The outskirts of the colony were just as busy as the central; elves worked diligently weaving and bending branches together to form living platforms and steps. Some carried bundles of vines and flowers to weave into the structures, adding a touch of natural beauty to the homes. Others were engaged in the delicate art of creating stained glass windows, where sunlight would filter through, casting colorful patterns on the interior surfaces.

I ran into several elves from yesterday, each one commented on my change in appearance. They weren't being callous, but I knew if I looked normal and simply got a tan I wouldn't be subject matter.

"So lovely, never hide your stars," one Elleth had said. I gave her an awkward smile in reply because what do you say to that?

Another Elleth when commenting on my appearance mentioned Legolas by name and I stayed and spoke with her solely out of jealousy. Who am I to become jealous because another is fond of Legolas?

She placed her hand on my shoulder laughing at a memory, "I remember when he was an Elfling, he was always getting into trouble."

I relaxed, "You knew him when he was a child?" I asked.

She nodded quickly, "Rascal he was, learned how to whistle the birdsongs. He'd climb up in the canopy and mess with hunting parties."

That sounds nothing like the Legolas I know. "I was one of his nannies you know after his mother…" She trailed off and blinked several times. "Well I don't wish to keep you."

"No, no, please. I'd love to hear more."

She frowned, "He's always so serious now. I thought after the war he would go back to how he was before," she shook her head. "I called him Little Leaf, and a leaf he was. Always flowing with the wind and so full of life."

I swallowed. "He was very much ruled by his emotions and so expressive," she laughed, "There was a festival we celebrated, it was customary for the children to weave flower crowns. My Little Leaf though, he had caught at least a hundred fireflies. Glued them all to his crown, he shined so brightly. Thranduil was stunned into silence."

"Would you like to come in?" I nodded and followed her into a small cottage. She placed a kettle on a small wood-burning stove then sat across from me on a small couch. She looked young; I'll never get over how young they look. Elves, immortal beings with not even a laugh line to show for their years.

"How did Thranduil take the news? I'm guessing not well since Little Leaf left you here," she frowned.

"News?" I asked quietly, genuinely dumb, not playing it.

"It's just hard for him, no one will ever be good enough for Legolas in his eyes, it has nothing to do with you dear."

I stared blankly at her as she rose and poured two cups of tea and returned to the couch, "He'll come around. Once he sees the joy you bring his son, he'll come around."

I took a small sip of the bitter liquid, "You think I bring him joy?"

She gave me a quizzical look, "My husband died several years ago, it seems all the color has faded with his passing. The seasons are muted and dull." She frowned and shook her head, "That's what a bonded is, a bonded brings vibrancy."

She set her cup down grabbing my free hand in hers, "Thranduil doesn't remember the vibrancy, he remembers the pain of it leaving him. Everything with a bonded is more intense. Maybe seeing Legolas happy he will allow himself to sail West and return to that vibrancy."

"All we seem to do when we're together is fight," I muttered quietly, leaving out how it's normally me starting the fights.

She laughed knowingly, "Aye, that's the bond."

"Why does everyone think I'm his bonded?" I finally asked.

"Because you are." She stated as if I were dumb for assuming otherwise.

"Truly?" I asked failing again at hiding the hope from my voice.

She tilted her head to the side, "He has told you, hasn't he? You're not going to get me in trouble, are you?" I could tell she said the last part to try to ease the tension.

So many questions swam through my mind, I believed her, it only made sense. Why else was I obsessed with him? "Why did he leave me here then?" I looked into my cup. If we're supposed soulmates why would he leave me? Why didn't he tell me? Would I have even listened if he tried? No, I was convinced he couldn't possibly love me, even when he told me he did.

She gave my knee a gentle squeeze, "Why didn't he tell me? Is he ashamed of me?"

She shook her head quickly, "Perhaps this is a conversation you two should share together, I did not mean to meddle."

I felt numb as she stood me up and quietly took my cup from my hand and led me out of the home. "I did not mean to meddle," she stated again as she shut the door and shut it.

I blinked staring at the woodgrains in the door; I stood there until the minutes turned into moments. How could Legolas love someone like me? And if he did truly love me, how could he leave me? He begged me to accompany him to the colony then he left without a thought, without even saying goodbye.

I looked around wildly coming to my senses once again, the first Elf I saw I asked, "Which way is north?"

oOo

Walking through the forest was calming. I should have been terrified, the warg attack was still so recent and I had no weapon of my own. The trees though, were beautiful. The gnarled trunks and twisted branches used to look ominous, but now they appear much like me, scarred, healing. I had walked for maybe an hour before I wasn't quite sure if I was still walking north.

How do people go anywhere without GPS? The sun was low in the sky, not that I could see it through the canopy, I only knew of its position because of the dimness down below.

I began to sing, the same song Legolas often sang. It was stuck in my head anyway and was almost cathartic regurgitating it. The forest smelt like him, musky pine after a rainstorm.

The sun set while I was still walking, and only then when the darkness overtook me did I begin to question my judgment. I had no supplies; I had no weapon, no food, no map. Why did I think it was wise to follow after him?

I stumbled through the underbrush, lost in the haunting melody of my song; the moonlight cast dappled shadows on the forest floor. Dargan would often hyperfixate on a single song; he would play it on loop for weeks straight. I never understood it until now, I was singing to self-soothe, fill the silence with at least words that reminded me of a better time. Suddenly, figures leapt gracefully from branch to branch, descending like shadows in the night. The Elves encircled me with curious eyes, their leader a dark-haired Elf tilted his head to the side, "It's rare to hear a human speak our language so well, even more so to hear them singing so angelically," I flushed. A shiver of embarrassment coursed through me, and I shifted uneasily on my feet, feeling like an intruder in their ethereal realm. I definitely do not have an angelic voice. Should I have sung in Sindarin when I met Tauriel? Would that have gotten me out of the mess I found myself in?

"Am I north?" I asked dumbly then decided to rephrase, "I'm going to the caves, you know, where Thrandruil lives. Am I going the right way?"

Some of the Elves held bemused expressions, either from my stuttering or flushed face who knows. They were clearly entertained by me and didn't at all see me as a threat. "What business have you with the king?" I began walking again feeling nervous embarrassment and walking kept my mind busy. The Elves parted for me but kept pace, "I'm from the colony," I replied scratching my neck. What business could I have with the king?

The leader quickened his pace until he then stood in front of me, his posture was relaxed yet his tone was slightly clipped. "I cannot allow you passed these borders no matter how beautifully you si-" He was cut off by a voice behind him.

"She is with me." I craned my neck to see over the Elf's shoulder.

Legolas came into view followed by Gimli, "Forgive me sire." The Elf bowed deeply moving out of my path.

Seeing Legolas made me freeze. I willed my feet to move toward him but couldn't. My mouth felt dry and my hands began to nervously fidget. What could I say to him? Why was he here? 'Hey Legolas, it's me, sorry about being a little bit crazy. Anyways heard something interesting, like how you're my bonded, hmm.' No, can't say that.

"Calliope?" His voice was hesitant, he stood an arm's length from me, his brows were deeply furrowed as if he had been speaking for some time while I was zoned out in panic.

I couldn't answer him, my body shook with tension. If I opened my mouth only nervous babble would come out. He looked almost sinister in the moonlight. What if he hurts me again? He's going back to the caves; the dungeon is in the caves.

"Are you well?" He asked with even more concern in his voice.

"Why didn't you say goodbye?" I asked taking a step toward him.

He clenched his jaw, "I thought you would not wish to see me."

I looked away quickly. Gimli cleared his throat, "We're camped just over there."

I nodded numbly accepting his invitation silently. We all walked to their camp in silence. They weren't far from where the Elves found me, Legolas probably heard me singing.

The campfire was burning high, I was surprised they had left it unattended and all of their gear as well. Gimli busied himself getting firewood, though the fire definitely did not need any. "Would you like to go on that walk now?" Legolas asked me gently a polite distance away. He seemed on edge.

I shook my head quickly, "I'm sorry for coming." I didn't know what else to say. 'I'm sorry for inviting myself on your little adventure.'

His brows furrowed, "Would you like something to eat?"

I shook my head swallowing, "Actually-" I paused looking down at my feet. "How old were you when you stopped behaving like a child?" I asked stupidly.

He gave me a small, shy smile. "I do not believe I have reached that age yet."

"I'm sorry," I stated. I wanted to list every transgression, yet at the same time, there was a part of me that wished to justify them. Why should I apologize for anything when he tortured me?

He shook his head, "Don't be, would you like to sit?" He gestured toward his bedroll and allowed me to walk passed him to sit. He didn't sit next to me and my heart broke. He was giving me space. Isn't that what I wanted, what I demanded?

I patted the bedroll several times until he got the hint and sat down next to me. "I was afraid when you weren't there." I whispered quietly, "Barasil is gone, and you were gone, all of the Elves there were unfamiliar."

He let out a strangled breath, his hands clenched into fists. I continued on, "I just don't want to be alone if that's ok?" I rubbed my hands against my arms, "I know you're probably upset with me, I just don't want to be alone if that's ok." I repeated myself.

The nervous babble just flowed out of me, was it the trauma? Was it trauma that made me wish for his arms to wrap around me? How can I love him yet be so terrified of him at the same time?

He nodded politely to everything I said, though when I began speaking about my time at the tattoo parlor his nodding turned into a deep frown. "As the Easterlings," was his reply.

"I saw Dargan again, he told me what caused it, it's a feeling." Legolas held his breath, not that I could hear him breathing before, but I noticed the way his face gradually reddened as I explained what emotions caused it. When I had finished I stared into the fire wishing Gimli would return and fill the awkward tension with his snores.

"You felt unwanted." Legolas stated, I glanced at him then quickly back at the fire.

I scratched the back of my neck, this felt like way too deep of a conversation. Why was it so much easier talking to Barasil? "Do you know what happened with Barasil?" I asked changing the subject.

His entire body tensed, his muscles flexed so hard they looked as if they would rip his tunic. "I do."

"What is with you Elves? Is everything about secrecy?" I tried to lighten the mood but really I was peeved. It always felt as though everyone was in on a joke I wasn't a part of, and now the joke seems to revolve around me.

"What happened with him? Did you know Celeborn had all these rules, he said I couldn't go around him, I needed to be supervise-"

Legolas cut me off in a hiss, "That was for your protection."

"What happened that I don't know about?" I asked pinning him with my gaze.

He swallowed, "I dare not speak it. For me the grief is still too near."

"What?" I pulled my head back, "Did he kill someone?"

"Calli," he sighed in exasperation.

I pressed on, "No, I don't understand. One moment he is giving me a tour and the next I'm in a stranger's house and everyone seems to know something I don't yet they all refuse to tell me."

I stood up, "Does it involve me?" I pondered. Of course, it had to; why else would there be rules? No, maybe it was a safety thing because I was human. Legolas gave the slightest nod his face was deathly pale.

And for some reason I found it funny and began laughing hysterically. It was definitely the trauma, the disassociation, the PTSD. When I had calmed I spoke, "It involves me?" I asked again, his confused expression pushed me into a fit of giggles once more.

"Are you well?" He asked when we both knew the answer. I wasn't, and I don't think I'll ever be again. How do you cope with the nostalgia for who you used to be? Sometimes things will happen and it's as if I react and I'm someone else, someone foreign. Before I came here would I have marched into a forest without a plan or any provisions? Will I ever be her again?

I took a step toward him; he had also stood and was warily observing my manic episode. "Can you hold me?" I asked in a small voice.

He obliged, his arms encircled my form, we stood silently next to the crackling fire. His touch was warm and safe, a gentle heartbeat. As I nestled closer, my cheek found a resting place against the fabric covering his chest. "Dr. Reynolds said I would have problems regulating my emotions. He said it would take years for me to get back to where I was, with intensive therapy."

I knew Legolas had no idea what therapy was and I was glad he didn't interrupt to ask. "I'm so confused. Do you remember when we met?" I asked against his chest.

"Aye," he tensed and I knew it was because he was thinking of when he met me not when I met him.

"I was so different then. It's like everything that has happened has changed me down to my personality. I don't feel like Calli anymore. I don't know who I am anymore, I'm afraid."

He pet my hair rubbing the back of my head gently. "Would you like some food?" He asked.

I shook my head against his chest, "Would you like to sit back down?" He seemed nervous as if he were afraid to say anything but questions regarding my care. I made him nervous.

I pulled away from the hug feeling as though I had forced him to endure long enough. Why would he want to hug me anyway when I had spent so long hurting him? I took a step back and sat down on the ground, he too sat on the ground though it was a few feet from me. His eyes narrowed as he tried to read me, I know I confused him, I confused myself. Why did I come? Why haven't I told him what I was told?

"Are you cold?" He asked his eyes flicked to my arms and the raised bumps that appeared there.

I nodded; there was no reason to lie. He stood and untied his cloak then froze as if asking silent permission to approach me. "I'm not a wounded animal you can stop treating me like one, goodnight." I snapped at him rolling onto my side. Where did the anger come from? Why would I be angry at him for caring for me? I wanted to scream, I wanted to throw things.

He remained standing at least until I was fast asleep, though my back was to him I could see his shadow from the fire. Gimli woke me up some time later; his snores were as a freight train. And in my cold, lonely state, I crawled onto Legolas's bedroll and curled my body around him silently. I wasn't sure if he was asleep, normally he slept so lightly a whisper on the wind would cause him to sit upright. But now he didn't so much as react to my touch. He didn't protest but he also didn't welcome me either, he remained completely still as I cuddled into him. I began to feel foolish, why would he want me this close to him? Of course, he's going to be ridged and still; he probably thinks you'll kill him in his sleep. I began to ease away from him when his arm snaked around me pulling me closer. "Sorry, I shouldn't have." I began to say and trailed off. Shouldn't have what Calli?

He hummed in contentment, it was then I realized perhaps he was actually asleep. "It was improper," I said again trying to pull away as his arm tugged me closer and a soft whine escaped his lips.

What's improper Calli? You love him and he loves you. I allowed his arm to pull me tighter against him until our bodies were flush; he was now curled around me, spooning me. "Calli," he whimpered, his arm tugging me against his body as his back arched. Is he having a nightmare? A nightmare about me? I tried to turn around and face him but couldn't with his tight grip. I brought my hand up and began gently caressing his forearm. "Legolas," I whispered trying to gently pull him out of his nightmare.

He let out a low groan; his breath against my ear caused me to shiver. His body ground into mine, his hips moved against me, it wasn't quite running, maybe he was drowning in his dream? His arm that wrapped around me began to fumble as well. "Legolas?" I whispered again.

His hand reached up and began caressing my breast, squeezing and tugging as his body ground into mine. I bit my lip trying to keep my body from moving against him. My skin felt feverish as if my body was radiating heat and arousal, I was trembling in his hold. How could I be turned on right now? "Legolas?" I tried again this time my voice was much breathier. His fingers found my nipples and gently pinched as I arched into him with a moan. Suddenly he froze, his body no longer ground into mine, his hands that wrapped around my chest retreated until he held me at a more respectable spot. His breathing was ragged; every muscle in his body was tense. I rolled over trying to ignore the faint throb of need I felt; I caressed his face gently trying to comfort him.

"You had a nightmare," I stated.

His brow was slick in sweat and his cheeks were flushed a deep pink, the sight of him did nothing for the arousal I felt. I immediately assaulted myself with images of him naked and glorious. The thought of his hard, pulsing length filling me completely sent shivers down my spine.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked, his breathing still ragged.

I swallowed, "No, no." I said quickly. My eyes flicked to his lips, they were wet and parted.

He let out a deep sigh pulling one of his arms back, "Forgive me, I must have sought you out in my sleep."

"I don't think I've ever seen you sleep so deeply before." I pondered aloud, "Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.

"No," he said quickly, "I did not hurt you? I didn't- do anything to you, did I?"

I shook my head scooting closer to him as his body seemed to shrink away from mine, "Were you dreaming about that?" I whispered, suddenly feeling very ashamed for how much I relished his grabby hands.

"What?" He asked, his adam's apple bobbed.

"The dungeon?" I offered.

He shook his head quickly, his hair slapping against his face as he did. "I do not wish to speak about it."

I scooted closer to him again until we were practically flush again and our breaths mingled, "I'm sorry I keep bringing it up."

How much worse can I make him feel? He's proven he's remorseful, hasn't he? Yet, I continue to bring up the past, to the point now even in his rest he cannot escape it. "I know you are different now."

He gave no reply, what could he say? Finally, I sat up, unable to sleep. My hair was disheveled and my clothing crumpled, even still I couldn't escape the thoughts that plagued me. Thoughts of Legolas grinding into me, his hands pulling me flush against him. "Are you well? I didn't hurt you?" He asked again causing my heart to shatter.

"You didn't hurt me," I stated in embarrassment, how could my mind wander there again.

He too sat up, equally as winded as I was though he at least had an excuse.

"I'm not very tired anymore," I said quickly, "Wanna talk?" Why am I so awkward? We've been talking? Why would I ask him to talk IN CONVERSATION, oh Calli you foolish rat.

He gave me a small, shy smile, and instantly I was relieved. He's my bonded, isn't he? He loves me, doesn't he? So why am I so nervous, why do I question everything?

"You have a beautiful voice," he placed his palm on the ground propping himself. His knees were bent and his legs shifted continually as if sitting was uncomfortable.

He can't say that! "Oh, thanks." I was glad for the dim light hiding my flush.

"I like hearing you sing." His hair fell into his face; he quickly brushed it away with his other hand. I watched the movement, taking in the sight of his tight muscles pressing against the fabric of his tunic. I licked my lips.

He again shifted his legs, "Are you injured?" I asked.

He shook his head quickly, "No."

I tilted my head to the side, "Is something wrong with your pants? You just keep moving around and squirming like you're uncomfortable."

He paled, "I am well."

I leaned forward, part of me wanted to be useful, to show him I had skills to offer. Another part wanted to help him, repay him for all the times he had helped me. I placed my hand on his knee, "If it's fabric I'm sure I could figure out a quick fix until-"

"I am well." He cut me off quickly, his voice was strained and urgent.

I pulled away dejected, "Oh, well…"

We talked about much- our lives before meeting each other, our families, our hopes and dreams for the future. We both skated away from topics involving our relationship. I don't know why he did, he went from professing his love to now I'm not sure how he feels.

"Why did your father wish to meet with you?" I asked him after he began telling me stories from his childhood.

He gave a tight shrug, "I know not, though I suspect it is to do with his wish to sail West."

"And if he sails what does that mean?" I asked quietly.

"I will take his place." We sat there in silence for a moment, just gazing into each other's eyes. What would that mean for him? Would he move back to the caves? Is that what he wants?

"So then, you'll be king? You'll have to move back here, you won't be able to be in Minas Tirith anymore right?" I knew my questions weren't helping his anxiety, though I didn't stop them.

He gave me a weak smile, "My father will want me married before I take his place."

"Tauriel." I couldn't stop it, the name popped into my head and immediately exited my mouth, I felt instant regret.

He frowned, his mood clearly dampened by my outburst, "I've already told you I haven't seen her in years."

His response angered me, I had no right to be angry, yet I was. It was the wrong answer; of course, he hadn't seen her in years I know that. He's supposed to say 'Calli I would never marry her, if I saw her I wouldn't even touch her with a ten-foot pole.' But he didn't say that. He didn't comfort the small insecure voice inside me that seemed to only grow.

"So if you did see her you'd marry her then?" I asked, my voice harsh and jealous.

He let out a breath shaking his head in exasperation, "No, Calliope." He spoke through gritted teeth.

I scoffed at him, my anger surging. There was a part of me that knew I was being irrational, but that part was underwater. If I'm his bonded then how dare him have the nerve to get upset with me when he should have said, 'Calli I will marry you.'

If he said that though, what would I reply? Is there any situation in which he would win? "I'm going back to sleep," I grumbled, laying my body flat taking up a majority of his bedroll. That will show him.

He huffed out a breath and I tried not to crack a smile at his irritation, "Sleep well." He stated. His words tasted bitter, his frustration evident through the sharpness of his tone.

"I will sleep very well, thank you," I replied back childishly. The air between us felt tense and prickly, like tiny needles were poking at my skin.

"Yes." He replied instigating me to the point I rolled over in my fury to face him.

His face was an irritating sight, how could he be so distractingly handsome? Was he mocking me? "I can't sleep when you're talking to me." I huffed out, though I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.

"I'll stop."

"Ok," I sighed in irritation closing my eyes so I no longer stared into his playful blue orbs.

"Goodnight." He said after a few minutes.

I bent my arm propping my head up with my elbow. "You are infuriating," I stated. I meant it playfully, the irrational anger had passed. Legolas drew away from me, "I'm infuriating?" his tone was one of controlled annoyance.

Why are we fighting? Why are we arguing? Often when Dargan and I would have a tiff, he would pause mid-sentence and break the tension in only a way he could. "Not in the mood anymore," he'd state with a shrug, and the argument would cease.

But, I do not think that approach will work for me, I enjoy arguing with Legolas, there's a part of me that finds going back and forth with him exciting. It's safe, I know I can let go, say any and all ugly things and he'll still be there won't he?

"So you're just going to marry if that's what your dad wants?"

His jaw clenched, "Is that what you want?"

"Do I want you to be king? I don't care." I brushed off his question. "Go be king, King Legolas of the Woodland Realm." I rambled.

"What about what you want, do you want that, to be a king?" I asked, the tension from earlier had dissipated and I was thankful for his control over his own emotions. He had the patience of a saint to deal with me and my outbursts and mood swings.

He shifted his expression a blank stone, "It's a fate I've run away from for years." He shook his head bitterly, "What if I cannot lead them?"

I brought my hand up and gently patted his thigh in comfort, "Sucks to suck." It was a mantra I learned long ago, the first time it offered no comfort, yet it brings me comfort now. It isn't sugarcoating, it states the obvious, and facts don't care about our feelings.

"Sucks to suck?" He asked with furrowed brows, his hand resting atop mine on his thigh.

I nodded in affirmation, "Sucks to suck."

They say comforters are born through discomfort for how would one know how to comfort others if they had not themselves been through it. However, from Legolas's expression, it seems I have missed the mark. Can we blame the PTSD?

oOo

The next day Legolas and I were more comfortable with each other, though I still had random outbursts. It was as if they flew out of my mouth before my brain could even register them as thoughts. It was cruel, my normal thoughts were muddied and unclear, he'd ask me something or make a statement and it'd take me several moments to process a reply, yet those outbursts came cruelly quick.

Gimli was a joyful companion but it seemed his tension grew the closer we got to our destination. I too felt tense, was Mirkwood a home to evil memories for him as well?

"Will you be coming back with us lass?" He asked during our march.

"What? To the caves?" I asked stealing a glance at Legolas.

He would often walk at my side, though it was awkward. Not because he was awkward, just his stride was much more than mine. So often, he would take a step then pause, take a step then pause.

"To Minas Tirith! I'm sure Aragorn would love to see you again lass," Gimli nodded to himself.

I flushed feeling shy suddenly, "Oh, I don't know."

What would I do after this? I mean they invited me, I said no, then reinvited myself. Legolas was quick to read me and change the subject. Sometimes it felt as if he was the only one on the earth who understood me and then other times it was as if he was the most ignorant Elf in existence.

The underbrush crunched beneath my boots, a rhythmic percussion that harmonized with the whispers of the leaves overhead. Legolas didn't have such problems; Gimli and I were alone in our noisy steps. "Do you hear that?" Legolas asked, gesturing with his hand toward the canopy.

Before either of us could reply he began imitating the birdcalls, some were high almost shriek-like others distinctly metallic. I was reminded of the stories I was told back in the colony. This Legolas was playful, carefree.

"Bet you can't do the great eagles," Gimli teased.

Legolas narrowed his eyes in challenge, "Eagles speak as we do my friend,"

Gimli flushed then grumbled under his breath how he knew that and was trying to trick him.

"We'll reach Men-i-Naugrim by nightfall," Legolas stated. "There are many who travel that path, evil still roams." He wasn't speaking to Gimli but me, as if he saw me as a child in need of a warning.

"After the war my father rewarded the men who lived just over the path by giving them the land. Beornings,"

Gimli paused his step, "Beornings?"

Legolas nodded and thankfully understood both of our confused faces enough to explain what the hell a Beornings was.

"Skin-changers, men who can take the shape of a bear."

Gimli nodded in agreement perhaps I mistook his confused expression, "Aye, I know what a Beorning is, why would the Elvenking give a plot of land to such a brash people."

Legolas's lips quirked, "Are Dwarves so different?"

"We Dwarves know when to be polite!" Gimli threw his arms into the air dramatically.

"So these men turn into bears?" I asked interrupting Gimli's tangent.

Legolas nodded wearing a grin, "Dwarves and Beornings do not get along."

Gimli scoffed, "It is of no fault of a Dwarf that those beasts have not an ounce of humility."

"So you'll think we'll cross paths with them? The bear men?" I asked trying to keep the nervous fear out of my voice.

"No path of mine will be crossed with one of theirs! A skin-changer." Gimli scoffed, spit flew from his mouth and coated his beard. "Baw,"

I couldn't hold back my laughter at Gimli's dramatics. Bear men do sound frightening, but Legolas's calm demeanor grounded me. Gimli shot me a look until he too fell into a fit of laughter.

Once we had calmed, we ate a quick meal before setting off again. Walking was fun, peaceful for perhaps the first few miles but after that, I missed driving a car.

Legolas often would randomly spout off, "I want you here." It wasn't in conversation, it was random, and what on earth was I supposed to reply to that? 'Thanks live to please,' or a 'Happy to serve.'

I'd give him an awkward smile and a nod. Making camp for the night I offered to fetch firewood with Gimli, partly so I could feel useful and partly because the deeper we trudged through Mirkwood the darker my thoughts grew.

I wanted to bring it up again, tell Legolas I was afraid, that in the dappled lighting, he no longer looked like my Prince Charming but the Elf from the dungeon. If I did that though he would react in anger, 'I already told you, I'm a changed Elf what more will you ask of me?' He would probably say.

And I want to believe that, for the most part, I do.

"You seem in better spirits lass," Gimli stated bending low and adding another log to his arms. He didn't flinch when the branches and logs he grabbed were covered in centipedes and spiders, merely brushed them off with a shrug.

I gave him a weak smile, waiting several moments before replying. Initially, I wanted to take offense; I thought 'What was wrong with my spirit before?' But I knew he didn't mean anything by his comment.

"What is the Elvenking like?" I asked changing the subject. I didn't wish to ask Legolas. There was a faint throb of panic anytime I pondered it too long. Would he lock me away? I know it isn't a rational thought; I have Legolas here, but what if?

Gimli gave me an apologetic look, "Tall and disagreeable." He answered my question.

I grimaced fumbling with my own armful of wet bark and twigs, "You've visited with Legolas before right?"

Gimli nodded, "Aye, just after the war. Wanted to lock me in the dungeons and give your Elfling prince a' skelpin for bringin me."

I swallowed feeling faint, he laughed, "Tall and disagreeable."

We arrived back shortly after our conversation, Legolas had shot several squirrels and was working on a small fire when we arrived. I felt slightly guilty, how long had it taken us to get firewood?

The squirrels looked strangely naked without their fur, their small bodies were now neatly impaled on skewers, awaiting the flames of the fire that danced and crackled nearby.

I let the pile of wood tumble out of my grasp and thud the ground near the fire, his eyes briefly glanced up and met mine, he gave me a shy smile. I felt breathless under his gaze. My mouth was suddenly dry as if I had been chewing on sand. His gaze felt like gentle caresses, sending tingles down my spine and making my skin tingle with excitement. It was as if his eyes were physically tracing the curves of my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"-didn't even need us I see," Gimli teased Legolas breaking me out of my trance. Will Legolas always hold such an effect on me?

"You were much help, if I had to fetch my own firewood this meal would have taken... a few minutes longer." Playful Legolas was back and I thoroughly enjoyed his presence.

We ate in joyful contentment, my many moods placated by food. Gimli rose and stretched; his stocky figure cast a shadow in the flickering light of the fire. He uttered a hearty yawn before disappearing into the darkness, leaving behind an empty spot by the fire. Legolas sat hunched over, his hands methodically moving back and forth as he sharpened his knives against the stone. The glint of metal caught in the glow of the flames, casting shadows on his face and highlighting the sharp angles.

I watched him as one would watch a predator. I wanted to run, yet, if I turned my back on him what would happen? The rhythmic chinking of metal against stone fills the air as he continues sharpening his knives. The flames of the fire crackle and pop. Gimli's soft snores can be heard in the distance, signaling his departure to sleep, I should feel safe, I should feel comfortable.

I tried to rationalize with myself, if he wished to hurt you again he would have. Can't you trust him? But every time those thoughts passed through my mind they were accompanied by darker thoughts, thoughts that made me panic and gasp for breath.

Legolas looked up; his eyes scanned my form, from my goosebumps to the slight vibration of my lower lip. He frowned, "Are you well?" He asked like an idiot.

How do I formulate what I feel? How do I say, my rational mind is completely aware that my fear is unwarranted yet my irrational mind is still there unwilling to leave. I shrugged, "I'm fine." I gave him a clipped reply, wincing slightly at how harsh my tone was.

His frown deepened and Playful Legolas was gone. Now he was wary and guarded, how he often was in my presence and I hated myself for it. Why couldn't I just get over it?

He set his knives down gently and stood tilting his head to the side like a puppy. I know I'm a puzzle to him, sometimes I seek out his touch and relish in it and other times I'm cursing him and throwing such malice.

I watched him silently as he took hesitant steps until he stood in front of me. "I'm fine," I stated again trying to shoo him.

He stayed there a moment too long and I cracked wrapping my arms around him and weeping into his chest. Why would I seek his comfort if I'm afraid of him? He wrapped his arms around me speaking Elvish softly into my hair.

When I had calmed I allowed him to lead me to his bedroll, I wanted to tell him what caused my outburst, but I couldn't.

He still pried at me with his eyes and I knew he wished to ask but didn't. Our relationship was too fragile, I didn't wish to hurt him by again telling him he triggered me.

Sitting on the bedroll was grounding, comfortable. It's strange to me how being with him in certain positions will scare me and others won't. "Sucks to suck," he rubbed his thumb over my thigh to comfort me the same way I had him.

I cracked a smile, maybe we would be ok? Maybe we could get through this?

I looked up meeting his watery blue eyes with my own, "I'm going to ask you something and you must tell the truth."

His eyes widened, he gave the slightest nod.

"Am I your bonded, your Fëamate?"

He looked down, his breath shallow, "Would you like to take that walk?"

I shook my head, "No, is it true? Are we- meant for each other?"

He grabbed my hand holding it in his, "Can't you feel it?" He asked bringing my knuckles up to his lips, "Every time we touch, it's like the rush after too much honey."

I nodded numbly, "Why didn't you tell me? Why did an entire colony of Elves I've never met know, yet I didn't?" I tried to keep my voice level.

"I had not told you because I wanted you to not feel forced into loving me." He caressed my cheek with one hand, out of my peripherals I saw Gimli tossing on his bedroll. "I will be whatever you wish me to be, should you reject me and only wish for me to be a friend I will stay that, but please do not close me out of your life completely. Forgive me for my missteps," he kissed my knuckles tenderly.

"Do you feel forced into loving me?" I asked.

His eyes widened in surprise, "Had I not known, I would have found my way into loving you regardless. You are unbelievably lovable."

He continued, "When have you ever had a choice of your own? I wished to tell you sooner but I wanted you to have a choice…" he trailed off drawing my cheek to his chest. "You've been living your life for others since the day you were born Calliope, did you even want to do hospice or were you so used to living out someone else's will?"

I was crying, it wasn't gentle sniffling tears either; it was snot-filled sobs that coated his tunic. "Why did you drive a bus? Was that because you wanted to or because of Dargan? You're indecisive," he shook his head and I felt a chuckle rumble through his chest.

"No, that's not it. You're not indecisive, you're afraid." His voice took on a deeper note, "I wasn't sure until our talk about the Golden Wood… You're afraid, you're afraid no one will love you unless you do as they bid."

"I want you, Calliope." His hands slid down my wrists and flexed. "I want you, all of you, but do not choose me because I wish it. And should you deny me and wish to only remain friends, I will still love you, all of you."

I remained completely still as his thumbs rubbed nervous circles into my wrists, "The reason everyone in the colony knew of our bond? You are the most beautiful woman to ever grace Arda; I want the world to know I belong to you, and only you."

"Who else did you tell before me? Did others know too? Those in the Golden Wood? Or Edoras?"

He nodded, "You had a long list of suitor-"

I cut him off, "What? So you don't tell me, you don't want it to feel forced- let me get this right… You don't want me to feel forced yet you're forcing me to see you as my only option?" I regretted the words instantly but I couldn't take them back.

He swallowed, "I only sought to protect you-"

I cut him off by ripping my wrists out of his hold and enveloping him in an embrace. I was upset sure, but that was mild compared to the relief and joy I felt and Legolas belonging to me. Legolas wanted to belong to me. All other feelings can wait.