No shoelaces to tie.

I followed him quietly, wishing I had something to delay me. Like shoelaces. Or … a sprained ankle. No. That wouldn't work. Legolas would probably offer to help and that would mean touching. Touching would mean …

I wanted to turn and run suddenly. I didn't want to let Boromir down. Instead I let Legolas lead me out a small side door in the big building I slept in, through a little courtyard, and into a smaller building. The Minas Tirith version of a shed, I supposed, or a bungalow. Or something. Stone, not much bigger than a shed, a small bed. The same rich kind of furnishings as the main building but … smaller. Compact.

His bow was on a table, arrows in two piles, the repaired ones and the ones that needed repairing. I noticed that they'd been used. I stepped in a few feet, past him, and gazed at them. Orc blood was on a number of the still damanged arrows.

"You've been out..."

"There has been small Orc attacks that the Elves are aiding in keeping down until the coronation is safely over." Legolas responded softly. He waited until I was completely in the room before he turned to shut the door with a soft click.

Silence fell. We stared at each other, silent, several feet apart, but it may have as well been inches. Was it possible to feel the energy of another person? Elf? I wasn't sure but it felt that way. He looked okay. Looked normal. Hair was groomed. That was a good sign. Legolas moved closer, slowly, and looked hurt when I flinched.

"I ..." I trailed off, reaching out with one hand, and then stared away. I didn't know what to say. He didn't look hurt. But I was sure I felt it.

"Would you choose to live the long life of an Elf, if you had the choice?" He said quietly. A hand rested down on a chair, light, as he stared out a small window.

"Leggy-ol..olas." I frowned and scolded myself. Stupid automatic nickname. "Legolas. I … I can't make that choice." It wasn't one I had.

"But would you?"

"I don't know. I guess I would." I mean, who wouldn't? But it didn't change the facts. I kind of wished he'd overheard Arwen talking with Elrond or … overheard something that had more or less made it clear to him it wasn't going to happen. That would have made this so much easier. "But I'm going to get old."

I half expected him to argue. Nothing. He was so mute, so masked, that it was making me nervous. Not in the way Boromir did when he'd gotten worked up or drunk, I didn't feel like Legolas would snap, but in a different way.

He muttered something in Elvish. It did not help any attempts at trying to figure out what to say or do.

The seconds turned into minutes. After a while I sat down, I had to, careful to not cut myself on one of the sharpened arrows. Watched his back. What was I waiting for? Him to tell me what to do? I supposed so. As soon as I realised this I knew that wasn't what I could accept. I couldn't … let people make choices for me.

Was I making choices for him or for us?

I supposed in a way I was doing both. Was that right? I hesitated, quiet, and said softly, "Um. I … I'm not telling you to … do anything." Just accept it all? That would be so much easier. I had this feeling he still hadn't accepted it.

"Then you will accept that I would not leave you?"

"No." More silence. I wasn't sure what to do, what to say, because yeah. It was equally about him. I didn't want to make decisions FOR him. I wrung my hands against the dress, staring down, heart banging hard in my throat. "I … I don't know."

"Do you love me?"

The answer didn't even need to be said. He knew. I saw his shoulders tense, his face harden, and the confusion bleed through whatever connection we had. Of course I loved him.

"Leggy, I-" Why couldn't this be simple? Legolas should have … I didn't know, be all accepting, and all kind, and … "This really can't happen. I'll age. You'll be away doing things. I might see you once a year, probably a lot less than that, and-"

"Would you not wait for me?"

Of course I fucking would. All the time. And the answer made me hurt more because I'd already decided, damnit, I'd already decided WHO. If this was even an opition... wouldn't Lord Elrond have suggested it? Or not? Legolas may have been gone for a lot longer than a year, particularly when his son was grown up and in Rivendel or Mirkwood.

"I would be a reason for you to be distracted more. Leggy, you can't keep coming back every month, every six months... if you did, what's the point?"

"I do not mind you as a distraction."

He still hadn't turned to face me. His arms had crossed, his stance tense, voice sharp as if he was close to being angry. Was he angry? That I couldn't tell.

I felt so tired. I stared back down at the floor. Wooden planks, polished, and another of those 'works of art' carpets that sat under a small bed against the wall. The stone walls were carved with the same shape, each brick matching, some kind of flower. It reminded me of an Elven style, a little, but equally it was human.

"You might not mind but the forests might." As soon as I said the words I knew how fruity and weird they were. The forests? Seriously? I waited for him to laugh or to argue. He didn't. Legolas' shoulders actually slumped at that and he sighed, a long deep sigh.

"They would."

Seriously?

"There are so many forests who are wounded. Angry." Legolas moved only now, sitting down on the bed in front of me, his head in his hands. He was seriously saddened. I wasn't sure what to think. "And my kin should not leave Middle Earth until they are healed."

"You wanted me to come with you?"

"Yes."

"With a baby. Barely able to walk. Growing older."

Lgeolas didn't' answer.

I had to forget 'deciding for his good'. I rested my head in my hands now, rubbing my forehead with my palms, and however much I wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to love him silly, I just felt too exhausted. I felt … my instinct said... it wasn't going to be okay.

"Even an Elf grows old." Legolas said quietly. "In their mind. Their body will always show this."

"But I'll be old in fifty years." I reminded him quietly.

"Would you not choose to live a long life of the Elf-kin?"

"If I had the choice, like I said, yes. But I don't. I do have the choice to … to live here. To keep our baby safe, until he's old enough to join you."

"With Boromir."

He knew then. I couldn't answer.

"Leggy, it can't happen."

"I know." He turned, slowly, and finally the mask was gone. Finally I saw it, and it was a relief and hart to face, because it was a hurt I'd caused. Something in his eyes wasn't there any more. A glow or something. "Were Boromir not here-"

"I'd probably just live on my own." I muttered. "I don't know why he's different. I can't explain it. Arwen said he was sent back by the Valar. Or something. I think she meant that … that they decided it was fine."

Another long drawn out silence.

Legolas stood up suddenly. He sighed, another deep sigh, tension fading from his body. "Are you sure of that?"

A nod.

"We knew." I said quietly. "You knew."

"I... I did. Our fates are strange. Even I can not tell what to expect. I hoped this meant... we were free to create."

I guessed not.

We sat there quietly, sadness crippling me, and I stood up. I had to get out of here before I … before I caved in. When he didn't stop me, when he didn't even make a move to hold me, I slipped out the door.

Aragorn caught me just inches from the door, holding a finger to his mouth, and the secnd I'd shut the door he'd grasped me in a hug that shocked me. He was massive, so much taller than myself, but … it was a relief to be hugged. I leaned against him, breathing in and out as slow as I could, in a desperate attempt to control myself. If I started crying again I doubted Legolas would stand in there much longer.

He nodded towards the end of the courtyard, a clear 'keep going', and went to put his hand on the door. I breathed out slowly. Okay. Legolas had Aragorn.

Gimli, too, I realised, when I felt a smaller stocky body suddenly grab me in an embrace too.

Then they were gone and I saw a guard waiting for me. Okay. Maybe they'd been keeping an eye out for this. Somehow, given how close we all were, that wasn't THAT big a surprise. So where was...

There he was.

Boromir waited some fifty metres away, leaning against a building, still in his armour. He didn't come to me, he waited silently, and when I reached his side he reached out to squeeze my shoulders with one metal-clad arm.

"I don't know how well that went." I muttered. Even for me. I pushed his arm up, quick, because armour was not the most comfortable thing to be pressed into, and glanced back. Was that his house or had he borrowed it? I wasn't exactly sure. It was really just a distraction from the bigger question. Did he accept it or didn't he?

Did I accept it?

I still wasn't even sure about that myself.

"Did you tell him we were marrying?"

I blinked at Boromir's question. I hadn't even thought about telling him that. Guilt rose up as Boromir's face fell. "I... sorry. Second I was in there I … my brain just went foggy. I didn't really know what to say."

Boromir sighed. He started forward, ahead of me, and I followed close behind. I supposed we had to resume 'distance' until Legolas knew, to try and avoid spreading the news till Legolas knew, but I kind of wished he'd walk beside me.

Ah well.

We didn't go to my chambers. Instead we ended up inside the Hall, in one of the side rooms, food already waiting. Lunch time already? How long had Legolas and I been sitting in there?

I sat down, numb, still wishing I could curl up and go back to sleep.

"The Lady Galadriel reassured me all would be well." Boromir sat down beside me, shifting restlessly until he was satisfied he could sit with his armour, a bowl of fruit in one hand and a drink in the other. "Eat, woman."

"Captain."

"Only in your chambers." He lowered his voice, his hand grasping my thigh, squeezing it. Boromir leaned forward, or tried to, but his armour more or less made it impossible. He grumbled and stood up once more. "What are you hungry for?"

"Nothing. Fruit. Water."

"Wenduin! You need more than just fruit." Boromir growled softly. His head swung suddenly towards the doors, barking at the guards at the door, "Leave us!"

The second they were gone, Boromir slammed the door shut, and turned on me. "I will force you to eat real food if you do not eat it yourself."

"I'm not hungry much for anything."

"And this is why I do not like what he does to you." Boromir was tugging off his ...whatever those things over his hands and wrists were, tugging them aside, and swearing softly as he tried to unhook and throw the big metal plates off his shoulders. "You have the face of a walking dead once more."

I shrugged and stared away. Boromir growled softly and focused on trying to get his armour off. , I could see it building up in his face. Anger fueled by concern. He was not impressed.

Boromir managed to finally get his chest armour off and threw it to one side. There was another red velvet shirt underneath, similar to the one he'd worn for months, and the chain mail sewn to the ends. He knelt, the metallic rustle of the chain mail skirt getting in his way, and grasped my head.

Jealousy.

I stared at him as he stared up at me, one of his hands impatiently shoving the chain mail out of the way of his knee, fingers brushing the hair out of my face.

"Love that sickens you is not love."

"Don't tell me what to feel." I muttered.

"I am not. I do not doubt that you love him. But you are sick."

Yeah, yeah. That was pretty much telling me what I was. I sighed and shut my eyes. Okay. I felt sick. I felt exhausted, actually, and leaned my forehead against his shoulder. "I'm tired."

He sighed as well and his arms came around to hug me hard, heavy metal only adding to the strength of his embrace, and I shuddered as his body shielded me once more. \

"I know it's not fair to you or him."

"Or you."

I'd decided. Last night. I tried to hang onto it.

Boromir moved back as a knock at the door startled us both. He stood up, slowly, his fingertips tracing across my face. "I am not the one in a battle. I am the quiet place you can come back to."

"Quiet." I snorted. Sure. "You're my other battle ground."

"Then I am the place you may come back to for some energy." He smiled somewhat. Boromir headed for the door and unlocked it, checking, before he threw the door open wide as his face cracked open with a relieved smile. He held out his arms. "Lady Eowyn! My sister!"

My heart leapt at the words and I stood up, fast, as Eowyn brushed past him to head for me with a, "Not yet, Lord Boromir. Wendy. Aragorn sent for me."

I hugged her hard, her hug just as hard as mine, before she turned onto Boromir with a sharp, "Take your armour out of here."

"She would not eat."

"And you create more rumours by being alone in here with her. The strain of her reputation should not also be resting on her shoulders at this time! Go!" She gestured at him.

Boromir grunted but he didn't argue. He bent down, gathering armfuls of his armour in his arms, and headed outside.

"How long have you been here?" I asked, as she turned back to me, but I could see the answer. She was in stained clothing, mud still over the long dress, pants visable underneath, her hair slightly crazy.

"Not more than a few minutes before Aragorn sent for me. The message said you would explain. Where are your chambers? I will share them with you."

"Boromir won't like that." I muttered.

"He will survive, somehow, I am sure." She didn't even raise an eyebrow. A movement at the door made us both turn, the guards returning to stand there, and Eowyn didn't miss a beat. "Have food brought to her chambers."

"Yes, my lady." A nod, a half-bow, which was probably all their stiff armour would let them do.

She grasped my hand and we headed back outside, across the courtyard, passing Eomer. He nodded to me before he turned back to his men, calling orders, horses still being unsaddled. Aragorn was with him again now, Faramir close by, Eowyn's step faltering into a stop as she caught Faramir's gaze.

"Faramir might not like it either." I added, finding some energy return at this, and saw her cheeks flush.

"He will also have to survive." Eowyn responded. She softened though, her face warming in a smile, and it was a moment or two before she seemed able to continue. "I will see him tonight."

"Alone?"

"At the feast."

Feast. Oh. Great. I groaned softly at the idea of being at a feast.

"Do not look so tired. It would not be a large one." Eowyn nudged me in the side. "Where are your chambers?"

"Oh. This way."

I led her down the stairs and to the door. Inside, everything had been tided, the bed back to normal and sheets changed again, food and frying pan long gone. Fresh flowers and fruit.

"It is beautiful." Eowyn said softly. "Much larger than any room I have seen."

"Princess chambers. I suppose they had to be pretty."

"What has happened between you and the Elf?"

Great. Straight to the main topic.

I explained it, quickly, which wasn't good enough. Eowyn questioned me, probed, asked again when I didn't answer good enough, and the second the food was there she stared at me with this 'If you don't eat...' expression that was similar to Boromir's one. Funny how alike they were.

"You love Legolas?"

I'd already answered this but I nodded again, trying to swallow food without cholking on it.

"You love Boromir?"

"Yes." My answer surprised me. Not like Legolas. But I supposed I did, in a way, and that just made it worse. "I don't know."

"Then you must decide. If it is Legolas, then you must make it clear to Boromir, and if it is Boromir..."

"Marry him?"

Eowyn nodded. She wasn't totally sympathetic either. "Would you wish for Legolas to still have doubt?"

"Not really. No."

"If he can not accept it now, then he will, and you said yourself. The fate is not one you are involved with." Eowyn's voice softened. "I do not know the believes of Elves. But if Lord Elrond has already spoken with you..."

"I know. But he's … special."

"And he will be until the day you die. But you can not join him from next week on."

"No, I can't." There was pretty much no way. Even if I went to Mirkwood, even if I moved into his culture, I'd be there alone more than I would be with him. I sighed.

"You already have decided then."

"I..." I really didn't want to talk about this anymore. "Yeah. I need to think."

She raised her eyes but didn't probe.

Time machine. That was what I needed.

It wasn't that I regretted it. It was that... I didn't know. I regretted that I'd given into Legolas. Wouldn't it have been easier if we'd felt like this but had never actually acted on it? But then the baby? Would I redo that?

Probably not.

That night Eowyn slept in a bed brought in for her. There was more than enough room in this massive room, hers a few feet from mine, the same 'four poster' style right down to the fabric used for curtains. It was amazing how fast they'd put it up given how basic their tools were. But maybe they had … I didn't know. A storeroom of them. Okay. Probably not. But we were gone a few hours, Eowyn and I went for a walk to 'train', and by the time we'd returned hers was ready as well.

She was asleep fast and I lay there a long time, listening to the rain and the wind, breathing in and out slowly.

Boromir came in a few hours after she'd fallen asleep. I saw him, I watched him, watched him through the curtains as his eyes went from my bed to hers, as his face fell, and his hasty retreat. Yep.

He and I didn't get time alone for the next few days. And it showed on his face. One night with me and apparently he couldn't wait to get some more. Instead, he and I had to keep our distance, suddenly going all 'medieval' apparently. Or something. If we went anywhere together, we had an escort, and no kissing.

Boromir actually lost his temper ith the 'escort', a pair of guards and an older woman from the kitchen, at one point after I'd teased him a little bit. Nothing much- just a little bit of bare leg, flashed, a little bit of cleavage as I bent down to retrieve a flower, dribbling water down my front by 'accident'... and also, maybe licking a spoonful of honey and accidentally dribbling that too...

Boromir had gone steadily redder in the face, the more I'd teased, and by the time I got to honey on one of my increasingly ample bosoms, he'd looked like he wanted to pin me against a wall then and there and lick it off himself.

But besides that amusement, I didn't get much chance to think, because suddenly I had things to do. Eowyn expected us to ride together, ignoring my protests about a weak leg, and so we did. A lot. Then there was the need for a 'wedding gown' that could double as a gown I'd wear at the coronation. Eowyn in my room meant that Boromir was suddenly forced to keep his distance- she was usually close by- and Legolas? Not sure. He was keeping his distance too. I had to guess he was with the Elves again.

His question haunted me and maybe that was why I wasn't so upset about Boromir not getting time alone with me.

Wouldn't I wait for him?

Would I? Would I wait a year, three years, between his visits to Minas Tirith? Or Mirkwood?

Stupid question. If that was the only problem, waiting for Legolas, the answer would have been YES. But there was so much more to it. Where I'd live, for one, because while I was comfortable here, if I was here but not with Boromir...

Even if I hadn't given into him that would have been difficult for him. And me. Because I really did care about him.

In Mirkwood, on the other hand... Elvish speaking Elves, different culture, and all that …

And what about his life? Would he die when I did? Yeah. He would. Also something I knew. I had all the answers now.

I swore softly, grasping my head, trying to stop my brain from swirling these details around again. Fuck. Fuck. Yes. I had ALL the details. I'd already decided. Whenever I tried to will the power to go back to Legolas and make it clear, things happened, or I sprained my leg worse, and it was like I was finding excuses to avoid it all the time. It was too easy to find excuses.

"Wendy, concentrate." Eowyn said softly as I fell forward in a painful heap, rolling my leg when I stopped concentrating on moving it right, jabbing me rather than help me up. "Do not show weakness now. It will be remembered later when you return to duty as a soldier."

I groaned softly as she strode away. Not even a help up. Slowly I stood, ignoring the stares we always got, and followed after her. From the moment I'd told her Boromir wanted me to serve, regardless of being a woman, Eowyn had been on my case. She was probably right too.

The days slipped by so fast though. The day before the wedding came up and before I knew it, Eowyn and I were testing the final wedding gowns, each of us in different shades of gold, golden jewellery tested on us, and Legolas still didn't know.

It felt bizarre. Strange. Unreal, somehow, like this wasn't really happening. Legolas weighted on my mind so heavily that I felt numb, really numb, and I struggled to think. Only when Aragorn promiced to bring Legolas to me the next morning, the morning of the wedding, did I seem to really get some acceptance of what was happening. Sort of.

That night, the night before the wedding, I dreamed of Legolas.

He knelt beside me in the bed, that warm smile on his face, that warm affectionate smile that he used to have all the time around me. And when I saw it, I cried, but not with grief. It was something else. It was like all the relief, the joy, it just bubbled over into this endless fountain of tears. Legolas hadn't smiled at me like this for weeks. Since Rohan. He hadn't looked so relaxed as he did now. It was like everything was fine. Everything was okay.

"We are the same." He whispered, softly, reaching down to stroke my face, thumbs brushing away the tears. "Our fate is the same."

His hands were cold. His energy was different. Everything was different. As he kissed me, my forehead, my cheeks, over and over and over, I understood suddenly why. And the peace, the relief, it shattered. Instead there was only horror. Anger. Rage at him.

Then I saw Boromir. It was so strange. He was as angry with Legolas as I felt. He was shouting at him, over and over, What had he done?

The cold hands weren't the problem. Legolas had cold hands before. The problem was that I felt something had changed in him. I could sense it. I could feel it. It was hard to explain, except he no longer had that feeling I got around Elrond or one of the other Elves, but ...something else. Like Arwen had before- that 'open' feeling that reminded me more of people here in Minas Tirith.

That feeling that came with an Elf who was mortal.

I sat up, sat up so fast I fell out of bed, body heavily falling on the ground with a sharp pain up one leg, and suddenly Legolas had vanished. It was just dark, Eowyn muttering in her sleep to my side, the cold floor under my knees as I knelt in the dark panting for air. My poor bad leg throbbed with renewed pain from the fall but I ignored it.

It had been a dream? A bad dream? Or had it? Legolas wasn't ...normal. Well. He wasn't like me. Dreams with him were rarely a good sign. How long had we both, while together, constantly seen each other dying? And come to think of it, that was one of the reasons I was still alive now, because apparently he'd seen me die at Helm's Deep.

I stood up, cringing in pain, and stood up. Ow. Walking stick? Check. Door? Check. Cloak? I tugged the Lothlorien cloak around my shoulders, still half asleep, but more than awake to know that it was cold out of the bed.

But if I knew anyone would go check on Legolas for me, who wouldn't even question it if I was stressed enough, it would be Boromir. Yes. It was cruel to ask. But he understood. Aragorn might have, if he knew Arwen was here and I had someone to compare to, but he didn't know she was even here.

The guard looked so startled to see me that I didn't even bother to stop. I strode past, only pausing to silently push the door shut, and he scrambled after me. It was that young man again, the one who'd escorted me to meet Boromir's uncle, and he seemed as sleepy as I was.

"Wait... wait, my Lady!"

"I have to talk with Boromir."

"You cannot-"

"The man's going to be my bloody husband." Oh, wasn't that a secret? Woops. I lowered my voice as I turned on the man. Not a chance he was stopping me. "As of tomorrow, and if you tell anyone... dead meat. Anyway. I have to talk to him. Now."

"But-"

I turned and headed outside. Rain met my head, waking me a tiny bit more, but I continued onward. The hood blocked most of it. Then … the more I woke, the more I realised there was an additional problem.

I didn't actually know where Boromir lived.

"Where does he live?"

"With his brother."

"Then show me."

For a moment I felt bad for the poor guy. He stood there, mouth opening and shutting, clearly conflicted. Obey me? Disobey me? Then with a sigh he moved past me to lead the way down the slope.

Boromir wasn't close. He was some distance down the city, closer to the middle, and the walk was close to agony after the stupid fall out of bed. It was barely anything though compared to the dream. I gazed at the sleepy 'Fellowship' house as we passed it, only the faint glow of the wood stove but no life, and followed quietly past it. Would Legolas have done that?

Would he have abandoned his fate? Gimli's fate?

The further I walked, the more the dream faded, but I still felt rattled and kept going stubbornly through the dark, feet bare, until we finally came across a large-ish building in the middle of Minas Tirith. The door was unlocked, no big surprise given that Boromir was the Captain, and as I pushed the door open a crack into the darkness the soldier hesitated.

"Should I wait?"

"He's the Captain. He can walk me back."

"Thank you. I'm supposed to be on duty up there. His room is up the stairs and the door on the left. When we have problems we're supposed to wake him." Without a backward glance he hurried away.

I slid inside and shut the door again. It was so dark that I wished I'd asked for the soldier's lantern. But then that might have been rude. Carefully I felt my way up the stairs, slowly, narrow little stone stairs that felt slightly worn under my bare feet. They twisted around, suddenly, up another flight of stairs, and then onto a landing. I found myself in a small dark landing with a window out. Two doors to either side. Boromir's door was the left. I hoped.

Opening the door confirmed it was him. I could smell him. It may have sounded strange, that I could, but I knew that smell and I knew the sound of his breathing. There was a fire too, just a small one, mostly burnt down. I slipped in quietly, dropping the cloak, and grasped one of the lumps under the blanket.

He stirred, grunting something, something probably close to, "What do you want?"

"You need to check and see if Legolas is okay."

Boromir's arms grabbed me, sudden, and I was heaved onto the bed beside him, his body crushing me as he kissed me hard again and again. Then he tugged me against him, throwing blankets over me as well, yawning as he settled down once more. He mumbled, "Woman, if you are a dream, I take you anyway. Do not turn into a giant cat halfway this time."

"A... a giant cat?"

No answer. Boromir's breathing was slowing, his heart slowing against my head, arms relaxing. It was relaxing. Really relaxing. His warmth, his heartbeat, it was lulling me into sleep too, when he suddenly woke up properly.

"Are you a dream? A... wet dream?" He brushed my damp face, blinking in the dim firelight. Boromir crawled out of bed, stumbling, and there was the fumble of something nearby. Logs into fire. Twigs. Then the flare of an oil lantern as he used a lit twig to light it. Boromir blinked down at me, sleepy, confused, and with the trace of a smile on his face. "Or are you really sneaking into my home now?"

"I had a bad dream."

"My poor love." He didn't look like he meant it. Boromir was staring at me with that look, the look of a man who'd been denied what he wanted for four days, the same look he'd kept giving me during our 'escorted wooing' or whatever they called it. Hungry. It was really hungry. He dropped the lantern down carefully on a table before he jumped back into the bed, literally jumped, right on top of me.

It of course hurt. My leg hurt. And when I gasped in pain, Boromir froze, his good mood vanishing, a hand shoving my nightgown up. "Did you walk all this way with a swelling leg? What happened?" The affection and open lust vanished. He frowned as he touched my leg, the lines increasing as I flinched, Boromir's sleep vanishing from his face.

"I had a bad dream and I fell out of bed. Look. You need to check on Legolas."

"I am checking your leg."

I cringed as he touched it, watching him, and ...wondered. It hadn't really healed properly since the battle. There was no more bruising, not really, but it still struggled unless it was dead straight. Doing things like stairs were slow and problematic. Slopes too. It did look swollen again too. We'd been pushing it with all the training. I shook my head, sudden, shoving it out. No. Legolas. "No, you have to check on him."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I... it sounds crazy. Can't you just go?"

Boromir sat back, slowly, his fingers tracing the side of my leg slowly. God. He really loved me. I could see it, even now, even with all his concern. And I felt it too. I shut my eyes, as he slowly crawled over to kiss me, this long tender kiss that was suddenly so careful of my bad leg. "If you ask. But I do not know what worries you, how can I know what to look for?"

"Ask Lord Elrond. I'm sorry. I would have asked someone else but-"

"Was Gandalf not at the house?"

Gandalf? Gandalf! Of course. That was the most obvious answer ever. "I … didn't think of that."

"You rushed down to me, in your nightgown, in the rain, for fear for the elf?" Boromir sighed, head drooping on my shoulder. "I am not unhappy that you would trust me. But to come all the way down here on foot."

"Sorry. Should we go up to him?"

"Yes, but not you." There was this tone in his voice that was final, as his fingers traced up the inside of my legs, slowly, near the area it had started to swell. "I will ride up and I will go with Gandalf and Ara-"

"Not Aragorn. Just Gandalf. Aragorn... has a surprise down there. He can't know about it."

"A surprise?"

"Arwen. His Elf."

Boromir blinked, the sleepiness still in his face, before his tense face seemed able to smile just a little bit. He pressed tiny soft kisses all over my face, again and again, "I see. You have secrets."

"I can't tell you other people's secrets. Only mine. Except for right now."

"Nay, you can not."

But I could tell him mine. I reached up, as he went to stand. "Boromir?"

"Yes?" He was quick to reverse, sliding down, half over my body as he stroked my face, this slow tenderness.

I told him what happened in the room with Legolas. What actually happened. Not word for word, it was a bit blurry, but as much as I could remember. Not just that though. Everything. I told him about Arwen, what she'd said, even though I was sure I was repeating myself.

When I was done he sighed and slumped down to lie beside me. "Lady Galadriel told me what you tell me now. She said all would be well."

"How can she know?"

"She is not like us. She sees things we do not."

I curled into his chest, sudden, and breathed in deep as he pulled the blankets over my back. "I love him."

"I always knew you would." His voice had gone quiet, soft, and he'd tensed. But only a little. "This, she warned me of as well, and I have accepted it."

She did? I pictured it though- his behaviour since Helm's Deep. And... "I thought you thought I was dead?"

"Well... twas a very good excuse for holding you." Boromir grinned sheepishly. He reached down to cup my face, brushing hair out of it, "But it tormented me. To be told this, that you would be the woman I could love freely, and to believe I had violated you so terribly."

"Which you didn't."

"Nay, and I thank the world for it every moment I am with you now. Am I not in a hurry or would you have me relax you into sleep?" There was a hand, I realised, a hand that was tracing up the inside of my thigh. Slowly. "My love?"

"Hurry."

"Then hurry I will. You sleep here. Faramir is not here. I will be back before dawn breaks." He leaned down to kiss me one last time, a longer lingering kiss, before he carefully got out of the bed again. He dressed quickly, scowling. "Keep the bed warm for me. It's cold out."

"Boromir?"

"I am in a hurry, woman!"

"I love you too." It was true. I felt it, it was as true as it was for Legolas, and somehow the words didn't break my heart. I felt like crying though. Like in the dream. Because he'd frozen, and his face, and … it was the truth. Stupid big idiot. I couldn't say I'd always loved him, because I hadn't, but I did now. And I knew that I'd made the choice that was best for everyone. If I'd betrayed Legolas... it would have been by choosing happiness with him at the expense of everything and everyone else in his future. Even his own son- who, if Legolas became mortal, would loose him 'young'.

Maybe we were still married under Elven law. I didn't know. But it didn't change it.

Boromir came across to kneel on the bed, his hand shaking as it came down to turn my face up to his in the dim light, searching. He looked so emotional suddenly. "I love you."

"I just said that!"

"I will go ensure your Elf has not done anything mad. If he has, I shall tie him up, bring him to you and wait for instructions. For you." He promised, bending down, kissing my shoulder as he said softer, "And then I will return and I will make love to you for so long that we will likely miss our own wedding."

"I don't mind."

"Nor do I." He grinned, suddenly, before he stood up. "I will marry you in our bed if I must."

"Not in that dress they made me."

"You are fetching in that nightgown, my wife-to be."

Boromir turned, grabbing for his tunic, and headed out with the lantern.

I waited. Waited to hear him leave, to hear the hooves, wondering. Maybe there were stables nearby, or a barracks, or something that had to be positioned halfway down the city for easy access. It would explain why he'd live so far down from the main hall. When I heard a clatter of hooves not far from here, I sighed, relieved, and finally fell asleep. He wouldn't let me down. I knew where he lived.

With this thought I fell asleep.

I woke, slowly, aware of ...something warm. And nice. It was on the other side of a pillow, sure, but it was right there and …

I opened my eyes slowly, hardly believing it, but in Boromir's bed was Legolas. He lay there, fast asleep, curled up, a hand curled in mine. Still immortal. I wasn't sure how I knew it but I did, and I breathed out slowly, relieved.

"Lord Elrond reassures you he is fine. Drugged, in order to sleep, but he is fine." I twisted my head back to see Boromir standing there, arms crossed, a little tense. Not surprising. The elf was in his bed. He added, "As I promised I brought him back to you."

"I still have to tell him." I noticed that he was fully dressed- Legolas- and on top of the bedding. That the pillows extended all the way down the gap between our bodies. It was kind of amusing. As much as Boromir respected my feelings... he was making it pretty clear where he stood when it came to Legolas in his house. In his bed. "Thank you."

"Aye, I know. But I am not leaving. The drugs will break soon, I will go outside as you talk, and then I will return. You are not alone to carry this burden. Aragorn also waits downstairs."

I groaned softly. Supposed I should have expected this. But I turned back to Legolas and watched him sleep, quiet, his eyes fluttering under his eyelids. Traces of blonde hair was across his face, a little bit of mud, and I reached up to brush it away. The sense of Deja vu came and wet, as I flicked off the dry mud, before I brushed away his hair.

His eyes flew open. Fogged eyes, probably still drugged, that barely saw anything. I remembered it, remembered that nightmare even as it happened in reality, and saw Legolas. Knife. Panic. Drugged Elf, still half in his dreams, who didn't even see me.

Boromir's heavy body. Blood. And Boromir's voice. Or his groan? I didn't know. I knew that suddenly I was crushed, being held, Boromir's full weight on me. Arms around me. But... the knife wasn't in me. It was buried in Boromir's side, right to the hilt, and even as I stared at it, even as I felt his body suddenly go limp, I got it. Legolas had stabbed Boromir.

A/N :O Shock.