Hi! I'm so sorry about my sudden absence—my e-mail notifications somehow turned off and I've been super stressed and figured no one was really following the story, so it was fine to take my time getting back to it :( I'm so sorry, I was so surprised to find all your lovely messages—I promise, this story will never be abandoned!

I've been gone because I started Tokens around the time I was preparing to query a romantic epic I just finished (humanxfae…sound familiar?), and I've been working on that since.

Anyway, that's my little update. I appreciate your patience and hope you enjoy this next installment—updates will be more regular from here on out :)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Fated Farewells

Legolas did not visit Estel the following day, but the one after. Through Haldir, he heard about the fuss that her absence had elicited when they discovered her sleeping soundly in her bed yesterday morning—the running story was that she'd been running amok and climbing places she didn't belong, then stayed there. awhile. He bit back a sharp retort each and every time the conversation devolved into less-than-complimentary statements being made about her in his presence.

As he climbed the mallorn tree, Legolas considered what had happened the last time he had seen her and wondered whether she would remember any of it. Even if she did, he would not have been surprised to find her lying through her teeth about it.

With him, he had brought a small pouch of herbs and poultices that he had promised to bring to Methelda the other night—Estel would be happy to see him following through with his word. He knew how she worried for the old woman and suspected this would mollify her.

The silver branches of the staircase opened to an ornate archway through which he entered straight into Estel's room. He introduced his entry with a knock on the side wall, finding her sitting up in bed with her book in her hands—a pen to the page. She blinked up at him, looking slightly paler than she did before but all in all better.

"I heard you were awake," he said, stepping further into the room. "Don't worry—no one saw me coming up here."

Estel's gaze fell to the pouch at his side, the book closing with a thump as she set it on the ground. "What is that?"

"It's why I've come," Legolas said. "I promised you that I would go to check on Methelda, and I will be leaving to do that, now."

Estel stared up at him. "You… don't have to do that," she said softly. "I'll check on her myself tonight."

"You'll do no such thing," Legolas answered sternly. "Do you even remember the state you were in the other night? You must take no risks with your health at this time."

Estel looked like she was attempting to maintain a plain expression—instead, the poor thing looked so tired.

"I don't… actually remember much from that night," she murmured, hints of embarrassment in her voice. "I don't exactly know what happened to me."

The memories reeled across his thoughts, making him smile. "The herbs that Methelda gave you were the root of Miruvor wine—to put it simply, you were very, very drunk."

Estel's eyes widened, the faintest hints of crimson brushing her cheeks. "Spirits, please tell me I didn't do or say anything… strange."

The shadows scatter when he appears.

Legolas weighed whether it'd be worth it to mention what she'd said about dreaming of him, even in jest, but decided he'd embarrassed her enough with the possibility of saying such a thing. "Nothing you meant seriously, I suspect," he said, watching her confusion. "You did compare me to a donkey, though."

Estel smiled faintly. "Did you happen to drop me?"

Legolas narrowed his eyes. "And here I was thinking the Yavanas plant was to blame for your insolence. Have you forgotten who you're speaking to?"

"I never forget anything, your highness," she said, then dimmed a bit. "Thank you for bringing me back here. I'm sorry to have burdened you like that."

Legolas reached up and turned his braid over between his fingers. "Don't worry, it was very entertaining." His smile sank a little as he let it go. "But there is another reason I came to visit, there's something I have to tell you—I must leave for the Greenwood the day after tomorrow."

At that, Estel's expression sank back into her signature mask of nothingness. "Oh."

"My father sent word that he requires my return, sooner rather than later—I've been idle here too long," he said. "I received the message yesterday. Galion insists that it must be important, for my father to send word like."

"Of course," she said, her features schooled in an expression of icy understanding. "Your people need you—of course you must go."

He peered at her a long moment, trying to discern how she really felt. In the end, he simply nodded, then gestured to the herb pouch. "I had better get going. I'll come back and let you know how Methelda is doing."

"No," she raised a hand to stop him leaving. "You don't have to, I'm going to see her tonight."

He leveled a flat stare at her. "Estel, you're as pale as a sheet."

"So? We have that in common."

Legolas blinked in surprise. "Then we will both be making separate trips, unless you wish to go together," he said. "Come sundown, meet me at the edge of the woods and we can do just that—"

"Sundown?" Estel frowned. "Everyone will still be awake at sundown."

"You didn't let me finish—don't worry, I accounted for that. They won't see us if we meet by the creek."

She arched a brow. "You want to sneak?"

"And you had better appreciate the great lengths I'm going to do it," Legolas said as he turned to leave.

Just as he reached the archway, Estel called after him, "I can't appreciate what I don't understand." Legolas stopped, turning back to her. She peered at him in earnest. "Aside from my mother and Lords Elrond and Glorfindel, none among the Eldar have ever had reason to pay me mind, but you—you carried me home on your back. How, exactly, do you think that I could ever feel at peace with that?"

Legolas peered at her a long moment. He didn't rightly have an explanation for it himself, but he was certain of one thing: "The life of the Eldar is long, Estel. Whatever time we spend occupied by things that bring us joy—whether it's a moment, an hour, a day, or a year—is considered time well spent. You are very good company, and I am happy to spend time with you."

There was an abruptness to his voice despite the sentiments he made—Estel ceased all movement as she listened. Legolas bowed his head before turning back to the stairs, leaving her in solitude with her book. At the bottom of the mallorn tree, he was surprised to find she had another visitor—the young captain Heimir of Gondor. They both slowed as they came upon the stairs.

The brown-eyed man blinked up at him in surprise, then nodded politely. "Oh, hello," he said, glancing at the stairs behind him. "Pardon, have you just seen Lady Estel?"

"I have," Legolas said. "Heimir of Gondor."

Heimir lifted a hand with a guilty expression. "Ah—forgive me, I'm far less versed with remembering names."

"Legolas," the prince answered. "Estel is resting at the moment."

"Oh, I won't be long," Heimir said, looking up the tree. "I suspect I'll be tired myself, after climbing this thing. Will have to leave quickly."

Legolas smiled tightly. "Best of luck to you, then," he said, then walked by the captain.

"Thank you," the man responded before resuming his ascension.

Legolas looked back, prompted by…something. Curiosity, perhaps? He watched as the man disappeared around the tree's broad trunk, wondering when they had become so acquainted.

Hours later, Estel met Legolas in the woods beside the creek. He sat and waited for her atop an arching tree root, hearing the soft patter of her boots before she appeared around the corner. The sky above was still streaked with colors of the sunset, casting a lovely ambience over the glistening water. He rose to accompany her down the path leading back to Methelda's cottage, wondering how many more times he might have made this trip if he stayed in Lothlorien.

"Heimir of Gondor visited you today," Legolas said to Estel as he trekked behind her.

She looked at him over her shoulder—still pale. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm curious," he said. "I didn't realize the two of you were well acquainted."

"We're not 'well' acquainted," she said. "He heard that I went missing and then fell sick, so he came to say hello. Then he asked me questions about my upbringing in Imladris and left."

Legolas considered that a moment. "Why would he want to know that?"

She shrugged. "Who can say?"

"Are you not curious about his sudden keen interest in you?"

She paused. "What's there to be curious about?"

"Only that he is vested enough to check on you when you are ill."

"So? You came to check on me, too." Estel snorted. "Perhaps I should tell him the position has been filled."

"What position?"

She gave pause. "Nothing. Never mind."

They approached Anduin shortly after, and upon their arrival at Methelda's cottage, Estel knocked twice before letting herself in. The old woman hobbled from the hallway, looking visibly ill, and Estel immediately set to work. Legolas busied himself alongside her—while she changed the sheets in Methelda's room, he stayed behind to prepare tea.

Methelda shuffled over to the counter beside him, lifting the pouch off it. "I did promise to return that," Legolas said as she turned it over. "You should go and rest, I suspect Estel will be finished with your bedding by now."

Methelda smiled, but didn't look up from the pouch. "You must care deeply about her, to trouble yourself so often."

Legolas paused and turned to look at her, considering what she said for a long moment. "It is an elf-king's responsibility to care for all living things—and so, that responsibility will someday fall to me."

Methelda faced him. "So, you will look after her?"

"What?" The woman smiled sadly at him, but did not answer—she didn't seem willing to. "Of course. I would never turn her away."

Methelda nodded. "Thank you."

He offered an arm and walked her down the hallway of the cottage, just in time for Estel to come out of the room. She seemed exhausted as looked between them, lingering over Legolas a moment. "The room is ready," she said, then disappeared back inside

Estel threw extra blankets over the bed as they entered after her, then went to retrieve the tea as Legolas helped Methelda to sit down. Seeing she was taking longer than expected, Legolas returned to the kitchensoundlessly, and found Estel bent over the counter.

"Estel?" She flinched at his voice, shooting upright.

"I'm fine," she said without prompting. She had a distinctly pale pallor, though she tried hard to cover it up quickly as she grabbed the mug of tea from the counter.

Legolas stepped in front of her when she tried to pass. "You don't look well. Perhaps you should sit down."

"I don't need to sit down," she said, pushing past him.

He followed her back to the bedroom, and once Methelda was resting, Estel sat rigidly atop a stool at the foot of the bed. Legolas grew weary just by looking at her, and finally chose to speak in Sindarin, "I suspect she will be fine if you go and rest."

Estel looked slightly in his direction, but didn't turn all the way. "She sat beside me when I was ill, she didn't leave my side once."

"But you walked a long way to come here, and you are not fully recovered. Go on, I'll look after her."

She rubbed her brow and glanced up at him. "It's not your responsibility. You have a long journey in a few days—I have this handled, you can go back to Caras Galadhon if you'd like."

"What does my journey have anything to do with this?"

"You should have your wits about you in the wild—the road to Greenwood is a long one," she said. "Besides… once you are gone, I will have to make do without you. What would I do if that began now?"

"You would rue my absence." Legolas peered at her quietly. "That's to say, once I am gone, you would only have dreams of me."

Estel's eyes widened, darting toward him. "What?"

"The other night—you said that shadows scatter when I appear in your dreams."

Her mouth fell open and closed several times. "I—I couldn't have said that."

"You most certainly did."

"Then I didn't mean it."

He frowned. "It'd be no crime for it to be true, Estel. Light in all its forms is sacred to the Eldar, knowing you bring it into another's life is a wonderful feeling."

Estel rose to walk past him through the doorway. Legolas followed after her, straight through the cottage and right into the moonlit garden. She turned to face him, the cold air nipping as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"You should not look to me for honor or joy or anything else," Estel said, her voice soft but earnest. "Come morning the day after tomorrow, you will be gone from this place. In a few years, we'll have forgotten this conversation. One hundred years from now, I will be dead. It's not wise to look for sentiments from temporary acquaintances."

Legolas furrowed his brows at her reaction. "Temporary acquaintances?"

"You sound confused."

"Only that you're saying all this to me now," he said. "I don't understand this reaction—only that I miscalculated my decision to tell you what you said to me."

She stared up at him, it took a moment for her to gather her thoughts and answer, "It had to have meant something to you, for you to have mentioned it. Otherwise, you would have forgotten it. I'm simply reminding you of who and what I am, and all the reasons why you should not look to me for anything more than idle conversation."

"You are drawing many undue conclusions," Legolas said, his voice low. "You don't know me well enough to explain my decisions, nor what I expect from my friends."

Legolas didn't have much explanation himself, if he were honest. How could she possibly have one ahead of him?

He continued, "And anyways, I should be the one to decide what meaning any given person has in my life."

"Well, I am drawing my line with what I'm comfortable with," she said. The conversation had taken an odd turn—Legolas was only half sure he knew what she was talking about. Was Estel really so influenced by the elves of Lorien as to feel uncomfortable with the thought of a deeper friendship between them? "I would appreciate it if you did not put… other thoughts into my head."

He blinked. "What other thoughts?"

Estel scanned his features for some sign or indication of something. "If it's not clear to you, then I'm not going to give you ideas."

"What ideas?" Now, he was starting to get agitated.

Relief—actual relief—mixed in with her expression. "Never mind it. Never mind any of this—just forget we had this conversation," Estel said softly, glancing back at the dark tree line. "I suppose this is the last time you will be visiting this place. I'm happy to share a cup of tea with you. After that, I suggest you go. Galion will likely be searching for you tomorrow to discuss travel arrangements."

With that, Estel disappeared inside. Legolas did not share tea with her, but he did stay late into the night before departing at the crack of dawn.

Legolas stood with Galion and their horses on the edge of Caras Galadhon, offering their farewell to the elves that had come to bid them goodbye. They had said their goodbyes to the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn in advance, and Legolas was, in part, relieved that it was finally over—that he would now be heading home. The forests of Greenwood would weather the coming of winter differently than Lorien, but in the halls of King Thranduil, Legolas would make himself more useful than he'd managed in all his time here.

"Safe journey to you both," Haldir said. "It's certainly been entertaining, has it not?"

Legolas grinned. "Yes. You must come and visit us—too much time passes in between our meetings."

Galion added with a smile, "It's as though you think you don't have friends in Greenwood."

Haldir returned the pleasant expression. "I will make more of an effort to remember it. Legolas, be sure to tell your father I said hello."

"I will."

Arms crossed, Legolas turned to Galion, who was about to speak before his gaze caught on something behind Haldir. "Oh—Lady Arwen has come." His eyes glittered as he peered past the small collection of elves standing behind Haldir, all of whom had come to wish them well along their journey. "And there is Lady Estel, beside her."

Legolas did not look in the indicated direction. A bitter feeling roiled in his chest—he only feigned interest when he turned out of necessity, for the Lady and Estel drew past the crowd, too near for him to ignore them any longer. Estel's expression was as rigid and unrecognizing as he'd expected, and she offered Galion a warm smile compared to the lukewarm grin she turned on him.

"We heard you were leaving," the Evenstar spoke. "We came to bid you goodbye."

"We are most honored," Galion said with a kindly smile. "Lady Estel, you are feeling better? I heard you'd fallen ill."

Legolas looked toward her, finding her eyes had been fastened on him. The moment they met, she looked back at Galion and donned a warmer expression. "Yes, I am much better. Thank you for asking."

"You must be more careful, heed your health while you are yo—" Galion's sentence stuttered to a stop. Silence descended upon them as he cleared his throat. "Heed your health, dear Lady."

Estel grinned as though she sympathized with his slip up. "I'll be sure to take better care of myself from now on."

Legolas was tempted to roll his eyes—and he did. It's not like Galion was the one who'd carried her on his back, then traveled back again to make sure she was alright at Methelda's cottage. All to be treated like a stranger in front of all these people.

"Lord Legolas, please give your father my best," Arwen said. "I wish a safe journey to you both."

Legolas bowed his head, then everyone looked at Estel. Arwen turned to her as well, all of them waiting on her parting remarks. Estel merely lifted her chin and glanced in his direction. "Safe journey."

It was clipped and intentional, and everyone seemed to realize it. It was rare that Legolas found himself feeling particularly smug, but this was one such moment. He stepped past Galion and Haldir until he stood just before Estel, towering over her. Slowly, her eyes flicked up at him, her expression blank—her best attempt at it, anyway. He knew her far too well by this point not to recognize the glimmer of panic that had her tense.

Legolas reached down and took her hand, glancing at the other elves to ensure that they were witnessing this—if he could not convince Estel to disregard their pointless opinions, he would show her that they had no bearing on her life. The daughter of Arwen and adopted grandchild of Lord Elrond should give them no sway—it was about time she took control and made decisions free of them

"Write to me," he said, a loud and clear delivery. Estel stiffened. "I will look for your letters—or your arrival. Remember, you are always welcome in my kingdom."

Without looking away, Legolas tilted his chin down and brought her hand up, holding it with both of his own to suggest some closeness. Estel paled as he pressed his lips to her skin, holding them there for some time. Her lips parted with shock, her eyes slicing from his face to thoseof their onlookers.

Legolas glanced sideways at them also, finding Galion, Haldir, and Arwen wearing three varying expressions of shock: Galion seemed curious while Haldir wore a look of disapproval—disbelief, even—while Arwen looked altogether surprised, as though she'd had no idea they were so closely acquainted. Apparently, there were some things the two of them did not share.

On Estel, however, Legolas was surprised to find a thin sheen of wetness coating her eyes, pools of emotion seeping underneath the tension…

The Mask had cracked.

But this was beyond what he expected—what had he done, to elicit such pain? Legolas squeezed her hand without thinking, an unspoken apology for an unknown crime.

"Excuse me," Estel rasped as she immediately pulled away, lifting her skirt enough to hurry away from him.

"Ah…" Arwen stepped forward reluctantly. "I should—follow after her. I bid you farewell, my lords."

Everyone watched as she took off after Estel, disappearing down the path behind her daughter.

"When did the two of you become so acquainted?" Galion said a touch solemnly—so blissfully unaware. "I've never even seen you talk."

"Perhaps that was intentional," Haldir added with no small amount of suspicion. "But no matter—you have a journey ahead. You should go, before the sun rises high."

And so, they did.

Thank you for reading! :)