A/N Hello everyone thank you all for reading. This is going to go a bit canon here with the Elven bond, please forgive me.

When I was a child and my mom would punish me she would always use the phrase 'this hurts me more than it hurts you,' Apologizing to Legolas felt like that. It hurt; it hurt my ego and my pride.

I found him that evening; his hair was wet and tousled as if he had just bathed. He looked as unraveled as I felt, his clothing though clean looked wrinkled. And his scent was magnified and overwhelming.

He was seated on one of the platforms that overlook the city; I think it was called a flet. It was one I had yet to go to, as it was the highest. I wasn't necessarily afraid of heights after living so long in a treehouse, but I was friends with the ground and preferred to stay on it. He had his back to me but I knew he was completely aware of my presence as I was completely aware of his. The steps to the platform were carved from the living wood of the mallorn tree itself, each one gleaming with a honeyed luster that seemed to radiate with an inner light. As I ascended, it felt as though I was climbing a spiral of golden sunbeams, gently leading me toward the heavens. Also, side note, I felt I would fall over and die.

There were no rails, no ropes to grab onto, and by the time I reached the top, I wasn't sure how I would climb back to the bottom. His back was still to me, but it was rigid, his long, lithe legs were completely still hanging over the shimmering embrace of the forest below. They should be swinging, or at least mine would be, but he was rigid, he looked like a still frame from a movie.

I carefully approached him and sat near him with my legs folded underneath me, I would not sit on the edge, not with how easily I could fall to my death. I cleared my throat, causing him to finally turn his head and look at me.

"I'm sorry I called you arrogant," I took a very deep breath. Why was this so hard?

"I do not want us to have conflict between us," I said through gritted teeth I held my gaze on his tunic refusing to look him in the eye, but I didn't want to look down and see the ground below through the gaps in the wooden planks. Part of me wanted to give in and beg him to teach me, but the longer I sat there the more I felt like I did nothing wrong and an apology was more than he deserved.

"I was arrogant," he laughed but it lacked mirth, "I regret our discord as well. Forgive me for my behavior; I let my emotions cloud my judgment."

I looked up and met his eyes. His expression was blank and unreadable, but his eyes, those twin pools I could drown in, held regret. I swallowed.

"I haven't been here in many years," he gestured toward the landscape; the sun was beginning to set and taking the heat of the day with it. "When I was a young Elfling this was my favorite spot to come and think."

I could not imagine choosing to climb those perilous stairs to sit on a railless platform many stories above the rest of the city. So that was what he was doing then when I found him, thinking.

"The embrace of these trees, the songs of nature, and the gentle sway of the branches offer me a sense of connection and peace. It reminds me of the unity that exists in our world and the role I must play in preserving it."

I nodded, shivering slightly as the breeze swept through. Legolas scooted closer to me, he wasn't wearing his cloak only his trousers and tunic. I don't think Elves feel the cold like humans do, however.

He continued speaking, the whole time my brain bounced back and forth between thoughts of falling to my death and turning into an icicle. Dramatic really, but a fall from this height would surely kill me, and my hands were beginning to go a bit numb.

"-Are you well my lady?" He paused his tangent; he was speaking about something in his childhood.

"Yes, I'm fine." I lied. He looked around as if he finally realized the sun had long set and the air was cold and biting.

"Are you tired?" He asked standing up quickly and easily, not at all afraid of the edge he happily dangled over.

As if on cue I yawned, "May I walk you back to your talan?" He asked and if I were wiser I would have told him no, I would have admitted that when I look at him my eyes linger on his lips far too long and the urge to kiss him is far too strong. But I didn't, I selfishly nodded, I justified it, it was dark and those stairs were perilous and railless. He extended a hand down to help me to my feet which I accepted with a gasp as I felt the familiar sensation of his touch. He let go of me instantly allowing me to walk in front of him down the steps.

Only three steps down however I flailed and ended up gripping onto him, he didn't pull away and allowed me to grip onto him the rest of the way down. Then when we reached the forest floor and I held no excuse to hold him so tightly I still did not release him. I held his arm with both of mine wrapped around it, I had no excuse now, but he didn't pull away, he was so warm.

"You're shivering," he stated as we stood at the base of the stairs. I was embarrassed; could he feel me shaking against him? Of course, he could. I fumbled away from him and began nervously picking at my shirt avoiding eye contact as I began walking toward my talan.

"Here," he stated again, this time when I looked in his direction I felt the heat of the sun radiating from his body into mine. He was completely shirtless; his tunic was crumbled in his outstretched hands, his toned chest completely hairless and rippling with tense muscles. Elves are pure innocent creatures, and it is wrong to ogle him. He is a member of the Fellowship. He is nothing but kind, do not be a pervert.

So, I did what any logical person would do, I ran.

oOo

It wasn't awkward around him like I would have thought, though I avoided the Fellowship altogether in the mornings. It was easier to avoid the thing that caused our disagreement than sit there and watch them train. Besides their version of training was nothing like a modern-day fencing match. There were no timeouts or pauses, you fought until you couldn't. And often they would fight with such ferocity I would fear for their lives.

"What is he doing?!" I shrieked once, pointing frantically at Gimli who took to chucking his axe at the Elves heads he trained against.

This caused the training ground to erupt in laughter, not from the Dwarf trying to decapitate the Elf no, from the innocent human who did not know how truly evil times of old were. Times so evil, you trained as if your life was on the line.

Dargan and I had a heart-to-heart yesterday, or the closest to one we've had before. We were both in the talan at the same time which was rare nowadays.

"I really like Boromir," he said quietly, his fingers tapped quickly together as if he were making shadow puppets talk.

"Me too," I blushed.

"If he doesn't die I don't know what will happen, Calico,"

"Maybe you're here so he'll live Dar, You said Tolkien traveled here as well and made changes himself, The Valar wouldn't have sent us here unless they wanted us to change it."

"What if I make changes and we don't exist anymore?" His voice cracked, his fingers moved at a more frantic rate.

"I trust you," I said.

"Maybe you will marry him, I can tell you like him you know." He changed the subject.

"I don't know, he treats me different than the men from our time do, I don't know if I like him or if I like how I'm treated," I answered honestly.

"Yeah, he doesn't treat you like a cow." He nodded, "Do you remember when Marcus would 'Moo' at you when you came over?" He spoke of it as if it were a fond memory.

I nodded solemnly, "Yes, I remember."

As if my admission wasn't enough Dargan then began attempting to impersonate his brother's Moos. "No, that one wasn't right."-"Calico, what about that one did that one sound more like it?"

The others in the Fellowship too have become more restless and nervous, they were all better at hiding it in comparison, however. Many times as of late Gimli would lose his place in a thought. He would be mid-story and freeze.

"-Sorry lass must be all this Elven wine," it wasn't the wine, none of us had drank any since the celebration. He did it more and more with others as well, would be mid-sentence and completely freeze sometimes he would recover and it would come off as a stammer but it was obvious. He'd get a glassy look in his eye as if he were reliving trauma, his body would slightly sway then a tremor would shake him from head to toe and he'd come back.

Boromir would pace, wearing trails into the ground. The hobbits were much better at hiding it; they played off of each other, distracting each other with memories of home.

Legolas held a blank expression as usual, but he hid away more, almost as if he were closing himself off from what was to come, I found him on the platform the night after I apologized. And instead of bothering him, I passed him by knowing he was there for alone time. We've talked here and there, it wasn't awkward between us but we were both unfocused.

They had met with Galadriel yesterday and today they would get sent off along the Anduin, Dargan was still going with them. I had made Legolas a hair tie, it was a dumb gift, and the entire time I stood there waiting for the Fellowship to arrive to send them off I contemplated if I should even give it to him. I wanted to make him a hoodie but without a sewing machine, I didn't think I had enough time. So I made the only other useful thing I could think of, he had quite long hair and perhaps would appreciate it. Or he would think I was foolish. I didn't make anything for anyone else in the Fellowship.

The sounds of the forest seemed to echo a soft lament, as if nature itself mourned their departure. Then I saw them, each trudging forward with similar frowns or blank expressions. Each would stop by nearby Elves and offer a farewell, even Gimli and Boromir who were wary of Elves at the beginning of their stay. Barasil stood next to me, his fists would clench every so often as if he were annoyed or restraining himself.

When they got to me, Merry and Pippin tackled me in a hug, Samwise offered me a very formal bow accompanied by a 'Milady,' and Frodo gave me only an empty sad smile.

Gimli grabbed my arm and shook it, "Now remember what I said about the ale, it's the cure for drunkenness, ale for ye ail lass."

Aragorn and Boromir gave similar farewells; Dargan sobbed uncharacteristically and clung to me. It turned my blood to ice; Dargan hated touch, and attention. By the time Aragorn pulled him away from me we were both crying. Then there stood Legolas last of all. I had snot running down my chin, and my breaths came in short bursts as I tried to keep from hyperventilating childishly.

He lifted my hand up to his lips but didn't kiss it right away, his lips hovered there as he stared down at me, his jaw was clenched and neither of us spoke for several moments.

"I-I made this for you." My voice came out nasally and broken, bunched in the hand he held was the hair tie I had sewn. It was green; I thought he would like it.

I looked up to meet his gaze, his expression was bittersweet. "It is green," his voice was light; he grabbed it and put it on his wrist. I don't know if he understood it was for his hair, or if he thought it was a bracelet seeing me wear mine on my wrists so often.

"Thank you melme nin," [my love] He brought my hand back up to his lips and kissed the top of it tenderly. "I will never take it off."

He looked beside me to Barasil, "Tiri- hen as cín cuil, Barasil." [Guard her with your life.]

"Care- tanca se na- símen yare ni péle-, lala linne- at-," [Make sure she is here when I return. Don't let her go back,]

"Cin gar- nin peth Hir," [You have my word, Sire.] Barasil replied.

"Lala linne- at-," [Don't let her go back,] Legolas repeated urgently, his grip on my hand tightening slightly.

Melme, maybe it is a different dialect for friend like mellon. Galadriel, the Lady of Lothlórien, stood at the platform where the grand staircase met the trunk of the towering mallorn tree. Her ethereal presence illuminated the gathering, and her eyes, like deep pools of wisdom, gazed upon each member of the Fellowship. She took small steps toward the river, she appeared to float and as soon as she approached Legolas stood with the others and that was the only goodbye I received.

She gave them lavish gifts, that made my simple hair tie seem like nothing, it was nothing but it looked even more pitiful in comparison. The Fellowship's Elven cloaks, gifts from Galadriel, billowed in the gentle breeze, and the phial of Galadriel, filled with the light of Earendil's star, shone brightly. And the Lembas bread, it was stacked like books on the boats as they loaded up to set off.

The air was filled with the haunting melodies of the Elves, bidding the travelers farewell as they set forth on their quest. I looked away when they began paddling; it was too much for me. I turned around and hid my face in Barasil's chest, I expected him to shove me away, or freeze. But instead, he wrapped his arms around me and gently shushed me while whispering Elvish into my ear.

oOo

Three days after they sailed off I began my apprenticeship as a healer. They say the quickest way to learn a new language is to immerse yourself in it. Mabeth accompanied me my first visit but soon had to excuse herself leaving me alone with the healers, who spoke no common tongue.

The Healing Talan was illuminated by softly glowing lanterns that hung from the branches above, their light casting a gentle, warm glow. Ethereal, delicate chimes hung nearby, producing soft, melodious sounds as they swayed in the breeze.

The healer I worked under his name was Lindnin, we developed rudimentary sign language together. Pointing and grunting worked better for me than the Sindarin and the often blank expression most Elves wore.

There were many herbs and plants that I quickly needed to make a cheat sheet for.

Athelas: lush green leaves and healing properties, a symbol of hope. Athelas is used to treat wounds, ease pain, and alleviate the symptoms of illness. Its scent, when crushed, had a calming and restorative effect.

Elanor and Niphredil: star-shaped flowers. Elanor was known for its bright yellow petals, while Niphredil displayed pale, starry blossoms. Both were used in salves, teas, and poultices to aid in the healing process and to provide comfort to the wounded.

Miruvor: A potent Elvish cordial, miruvor was made from honey and various herbs. It was used to revive the weary and heal the wounded. A sip of miruvor could reinvigorate and renew the spirit, making it a vital remedy for those who needed strength. Do Not Confuse With Elven Wine!

Lembas Bread: For those who hold not the stomach or consciousness to eat.

Willow Bark: The bark of the willow tree was known for its analgesic properties. It was used to create pain-relieving tinctures and tonics, providing relief to those who suffered from physical discomfort.

Cleansing Herbs: An array of herbs, such as chamomile, lavender, and mint, were grown in the pots around the talan. These aromatic plants were used in soothing teas, foot baths, and steam treatments to cleanse and refresh the body and spirit.

Glossop Blossoms: Glossop blossoms, with their bright red petals and sweet fragrance, were used in various tonics and ointments to promote the healing of wounds and soothe the senses.

Arnica: This mountain flower was known for its anti-inflammatory properties and was used in liniments and balms to alleviate pain and reduce swelling in injuries.

Astragalus Root: Known for its immune-boosting properties, astragalus root was used in tonics to strengthen and fortify the body, making it particularly helpful for those recovering from illnesses and injuries.

Their way of healing was how I would go about it in the modern time if I were uninsured, plenty of teas and tonics. The music of harps, flutes, and voices filled the Healing Talan, creating a tranquil and healing atmosphere. Music held a special place in Elvish medicine, though I still don't know how it works.

We had no sicknesses to work with, Elves don't get ill the way humans do, often what we handled was training incidents, or someone from the borders. Those cases frustrated me to no end. The healer would grunt and point until I successfully grabbed the right salve or herb then proceed to stuff the wound with it. No stitches, no cleaning the wound, no logic. I helped with an arrow wound earlier, after the head was taken out the wound needed to be packed, instead of gauze however they used salve.

Do you know how hard it is to shovel salve into a bleeding wound? They did use stitches, but it was rare, most of the cases seemed like they got far less treatment and attention than deserved. Barasil has returned to how he was before, teasing me for a blush constantly. Orophin returned to the borders.

"We need to take care of these bleeders," I muttered in frustration seeing yet another Elf on a cot from the borders. There was a substantial amount or orc activity, and the volume of Elves in the healing talan was growing steadily.

I took a needle and held it in a nearby lanterns flame until it grew red hot. "Díhen- nin," [Forgive me,] I said as I began the painful task of cauterizing individual vessels and veins. The Elf writhed under my care, and the healer swooped in and began chastising me as if I were doing something wrong.

"Glae!" [salve] He pointed aggressively across the room to a jar I was quite familiar with.

"He will bleed out, let me help him," I bit back. We stared each other down all the while the Elf on the cot continued to bleed. I shoved the healer aside boldly and continued my ministrations.

The tool we used to cauterize in modern medicine I've never used. I never got that far in my classes, it almost looked like a pencil, it had a battery pack built-in for heating and several needle tips. I'm sure that would be much more preferable to what I'm doing now. The Elf writhed under me, and I transformed. I began barking orders, and anyone who tried to stop me or attend to him with their salves I shoved aside.

My fingers hurt from the heat, having no gloves or barrier every time I dipped the needle into the flame my fingers would get bit as well. The Elves around me finally gave up, or at least I thought they gave up.

I finished cauterizing the wound and was stitching the Elf when Galadriel walked into the healing talan followed by several frantic Elves all pointing toward me. Tattletales.

She walked until she graced the foot on the cot and smiled at me, "We have much to glean from you," she turned her eyes to the Elves that tattled and though I didn't hear her I could tell from their expressions she was telling them off in their own heads. When she left I was no longer told what to do, or stopped when I would begin a method or practice. Soon, I had a swarm of curious Elves all huddled around me and whatever Elf I worked on trying to understand my methods and modern medicine.

A week went by, my Sindarin had improved tremendously, and I was slowly understanding the Elvish healing practices. They didn't stitch as often or pack wounds aggressively because Elves heal quickly. For them salve really was a cure all, slap some salve on it, and sing a song and you're good to go. That was until the orcs began to overwhelm the borders. More and more Elves arrived mortally wounded, and I quickly went from not even a licensed nurse to a surgeon.

There were plenty of Elves who were experienced healers, however, not many were experienced with healing that required more than salve. I taught a few Elves the lock-stitch suture technique, it was my favorite. The material to stitch with too was different vs what I myself was taught with. We learned with synthetic fibers, polyester, polypropylene, anything with a poly. But here, the closest thing I could find was silk, it doesn't hold as well and is extremely frustrating to work with in comparison.

The combination of Elvish and modern worked well together, however, my fingertips were blistered from constantly using the needle without gloves of any sort. I really felt as I did have a purpose though and I'm glad I heeded Dargan.

Barasil would often stop by and force me to eat and take a break. He became my rock during the turmoil and I was so thankful for the return of our old friendship and bond.

"Little Seer come," He stood in the doorway of the talan a basket held in his hands and a broad smile on his face. "I'm busy Barasil." I gestured toward the full room. He walked in grabbing my arm firmly, "They'll be here when you return."

Barasil loved touching me now and was back to his old habits of purposely touching me for a reaction. He didn't make me blush as much as before; I became used to him and wasn't quite so flustered by him.

He dragged me to a bench in a secluded alcove of the closest garden. If we weren't such good friends it would have felt romantic. He placed the basket on the bench between us, "Eat." He ordered.

I grumbled under my breath but obeyed grabbing a piece of raw broccoli, "What's bonding?" I asked after I crunched into it. Barasil learned it was my favorite and would often sneak it from the kitchens before the cooks prepared it, the Elves ate many raw foods but broccoli was not one of them.

He startled, "The Elvenbond?"

I shrugged, "One of my patients was talking of it, an incomplete bond."

He grimaced, "Elves marry for life. When they are wed their fëa bond together."

I looked at him curiously, "So what if they marry wrong? What if they make a mistake and don't love them anymore?" Primroses nod their cheerful heads, while crocuses push through the earth, their petals unfurling in a delicate dance. The gardens of the Golden Wood have truly come alive this past week.

He smirked, "Have you not noticed how many Elves here are unwed? Marriage to an Elf is more important than life or death." The gentle hum of bees is a constant presence in the garden. They diligently collect pollen from the early-blooming flowers, contributing to the garden's pollination process and the promise of future blooms.

I frowned, "So how do they know when it's right? I don't think I've seen any Elves date, do you date here?"

He laughed and leaned forward brushing a hair behind my ear, "We're Elves, not monks." Then he shrugged, "From my friends who have married they say it's a feeling. Two hearts beating in sync. There are some who choose to not pursue any relationship and wait for their fëamate, but most cannot go that long."

I gasped dropping my beloved vegetable onto the ground and covering my mouth with my hand, "So, you knowingly and willingly have relationships when you know they're not the one?"

He quirked a brow, "Would you not as well? Say you're here another couple hundred years, would you not as well? Has Legolas not explained this to you?"

I gaped at him, but would I? I think the first man who would show interest in me would hold my heart honestly. Even if he were just playing with it and I knew there was no future.

"So…are you dating anyone right now?" I felt my face heating up as I asked.

He smirked, "I believe our definitions of dating are different Little Seer, if you mean am I having relations with Elleth then yes, and frequently."

I flushed even darker, "And they know? That you won't marry them?"

He looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time, "I forget how young you truly are Little Seer."

Did Legolas do that? Did he bed many Elleth because he couldn't wait for his mate?