Prologue:
The Tale of Melia

In truth the Ranger Melia had not left the Sunlands as much as she had fled from it.

For most of the ages, the lands of the Far East had been a mystery to the races of the north. Most surmised that it was a place of great evil since the Haradrim or the Easterlings, as they were sometimes known, bowed to the will of Sauron. This was not as much a conscious decision made by its people as it was an unfortunate fact of their existence to which they had little choice but to accept. Thus, as much of the northlands were shaped by the noble hearts of Imladris and Minas Tirith, the people of south and the east took their lead from the greatest kingdom in their sphere, which unfortunately was Mordor.

Because of their allegiance to Mordor, the Easterlings had little to do with the lands beyond its border other than to wage war. What little Middle earth knew of them was scarce and garnered from the experience gained whilst warring with the Haradrim. Together, with the Balchoth Variags and the Easterling barbarians called the Wainriders, they were as fierce in battle as Orcs and they were found to be almost as treacherous, giving no quarter when they launched their savage assaults. Physically, they were different from the fair folk of the north, being dark skinned and swarthy, sometimes riding chariots while fighting their enemies astride huge tusked animals called mumakils. Their weapons were composed of curved daggers, scimitars, spears, pikes and crossbows.

This estrangement continued until the conclusion of the War of the Ring. King Elessar, in an effort to unite his kingdom and create a real atmosphere of unity amongst all peoples of Middle earth whatever their past origins and affiliations, had extended the hand of friendship towards the Easterlings. Those that were not destroyed at the battle of Pelennor accepted the hand of friendship uneasily but nonetheless did so with the same desire for an end to the wars that had defined their existence for so long. For the first time since their very creation, all the races of men could know peace.

However, not all the tribes of the Easterlings were the enemies of the northlands under the yoke of Sauron. Some had fought with the elves in the First Age, the most notable being the Easterling hero Bor. Though he died in that war, his surviving kinsmen who had not fallen with him had traveled farther south east than any other race in Middle earth. Journeying into what was known as the Sunlands, the kindred of Bor established a nation of their own; separate from the Haradrim and all those races who were loyal to Sauron. Through the ages, they remained free of his evil but their freedom came at a terrible price for they were almost always at war with the rest of their neighbours who could not accept their refusal to bow to the will of the dark lord.

It was during the interlude of one of these endless wars that the Easterling Hezare left his tribe to explore the lands of the north. A warrior, who had spent more than half his years fighting one battle after another, he had wanted to see something of the world before he faced yet another conflict with his neighbors. To this end, he left the lands of his birth and continued northwards with the intention of seeing the great cities of the Eldar and the other races so despised by Sauron while he was still alive to do so. Although Sauron and his fortress at Barad-dur had remained silent since Isildur cut the One Ring from the dark lord’s hand, there were whispers in the wind and dreams of a lidless eye among his people that gave him suspicions that Sauron’s time was coming again.

The journey north had taken the better part of a year and it had been fraught with danger as he sailed the western sea and eventually arrived at the Bay of Belfalas. By making the journey by sea, Hezare was able to begin his exploration by sailing the length of the great Anduin River. As he sailed up the mightiest waterway of Middle earth, he was to see Pelagir and Minas Tirith. When he chose to travel by land for a time, he was able to see Isengard and the Orthanc. After passing Rauros Falls and returning to the Anduin, he was able to stare in wonderment at the Argonath and wish that in the Sunlands, they had will to inspire such magnificence instead of endless war.

He had even grazed the outskirts of Mirkwood though it was never wise to traverse the great wood alone, especially when so much of it was occupied by foul creatures of darkness. He met the dwarves and marveled at the skills of their smiths in being able to mold precious metals to suit any purpose. From their war masters, he learnt ways to fashion better weapons which he could take home to his people. Of the Eldar he saw little. Though he had wandered the wood of Lothlorien, he came away only with the feeling that he was being allowed passage but under great sufferance.

He did not blame the First Born for their indifference to him for he was from a race of men known to be allies of Sauron and he forgave them their suspicions. They had no reason to trust him since they knew nothing of him or the people. How could they when he was most likely the first Easterling that had ever ventured this far without the thought of conquest? A lesser man might have been disheartened by their rejection but Hezare was not a man to dwell on things he could not change and so he resumed his journey, preparing to follow its entire length before he turned back for home.

He might have well spent years sailing Anduin if not for the occurrence of one singular event that changed the course of his life.

Her name was Ninuie and she was the loveliest creature he had ever seen. Her folk supposedly dwelt along the river although he never saw them because when he happened upon her that midsummer’s eve, she was living alone in a cottage by the banks of the river. She called herself a River Woman, though he did not fully comprehend what that meant. In truth, he was not eager to meet her folk if she had any, for he feared they would reject him because he was an Easterling and he could not bear to lose her. Everything about her was a dream and he was lost the minute he laid eyes upon her. He did not know why she loved him but he rejoiced that she did because they were married within the month of their first meeting. Although he knew she had her secrets, he dared not question them for she was the single light of his existence and he feared that questioning the dream might diminish it.

For the year that she was his wife, Hezare knew happiness unlike any he had ever experienced. She showed him things about the river, about the wood where she lived, she taught him to cherish life and find beauty in places one would never think to look. When she told him that she was carrying his child, he thought he might die from sheer joy. All his life, he had only ever known death and blood, to know that he had created something that lived and breathed, that would be to him as beautiful as its mother was more than he had ever dreamed.

She was born under the light of a full moon and her mother named her Melia after the Maiar spirit who tended the Dreamland of Lorien and was attendant to Vana the Youthful, and Este, the healer. They lived happily in their cottage, far away from the eyes of the world until Melia had reached her second year. Then, Hezare who had been away from his homeland for far too long felt the stirrings of his native lands and yearned for home. He announced to Ninuie that it was time for him to return and he expected her to be at his side when they left Middle earth forever.

On the eve of their journey, Ninuie disappeared.

He waited for days for her return, praying that her disappearance had to do with a desire to see her fair folk but in truth, he knew that she was not coming back. She had never showed her unhappiness by his desire to return home, merely reveal a resignation that what must be must be. A month after her disappearance, Hezare knew he could no longer wait and with the only thing that mattered to him in the face of his despair, he took Melia and made the long journey home to the Sunlands.

Once home, he fell again into the pattern of combat, often going away for months to fight new battles and returning to her so that he could lavish upon her all the love and affection he was denied showing her mother. He taught Melia skills that no woman of the Sunlands should have, for it was the custom of the Easterlings to have their women be cloistered away and forbidden to touch weapons or speak out of turn to men. They were married by the will of their father’s choice and had very little say of their fates. Until Hezare had journeyed to the northlands, he had never imagined there could be any other way and though it was folly to do so, he raised his daughter in the ways of her mother’s land.

By the time she had reached her sixteenth year, she had become accustomed to being an outcast among her people. Her mixed heritage had ensured she did not completely resemble most Easterlings and her skills with a crossbow was certainly frowned upon by all who knew of it. Her father was a respected member of his tribe and so little was said in his presence but Melia could hear the whispers behind her back. She bore them silently, telling him nothing of it because his defense of her would only worsen the situation. She bore her loneliness in silence and pretended that it did not matter when in truth, it mattered a great deal.

It was inevitable that there would be a day when he did not come home from battle.

His death devastated her but not even Melia suspected how much things would change now that he was gone. At the age of eighteen, she was still unmarried, a thing unheard of by the standards of her tribe and well meaning relatives moved immediately to rectify the situation. Within a month of his death, Melia learnt that she was to marry a man twice her age, whose sole interest in her rested upon how many children she could bear him. Her refusal was met with indifference for it was not her place to refuse what appeared to be a fine match. With a heavy heart, Melia came to the understanding that there was only one course left to her.

Flight.

In the dead of the night she had left, an escape that would have earned her death if she had been caught. A woman breaking a marriage arranged by her family was considered no less than a criminal and she had little intention of being branded as such for desiring to choose her own destiny. She did not even know where she was going until she had found herself hiding in the galley of a sailing vessel travelling the Inland Sea. She was alone and she knew no one who would help her.

It was only during this voyage of terrible uncertainty that the purpose of her life would take shape. If her father was gone then it was time to find her mother.

The scope of what she had chosen to do had not dawned upon her yet. That would come later when she realized just how little she did know about the woman who bore her. Her father had told her next to nothing and Melia had always believed his reluctance to speak of Ninuie was because of his own heartache at losing her. Only when Melia reached the lands of Gondor and began the search herself, did she understand that his lack of explanation was due to the fact that he himself knew little about the woman he had married.

Her mother was a River Woman but Melia had no idea what that meant.

The Gondorians spoke of such women being spirits, not entirely of the flesh. Melia knew that this could not be true for a spirit does not conceive and deliver a child. Yet if they were to be believed, that her mother was some creature beyond the understanding of men, what then did that make her? The greater the mystery deepened, the more insistent Melia became in finding out the truth because she carried a secret she told no one, not even her father in all the years of his life, that when she slept she dreamed of her mother.

And in every dream, Ninuie was screaming.

Part One:
Chains of Duty

The message had come to him on the day of the elven new year.

Legolas Greenleaf had been anticipating its arrival for some time now, however now the day was finally here, he found himself consumed by a wave of disappointment that he could not dismiss no matter how much he tried. For months now, he expected the inevitable, hoping against hope that it would delay its appearance as much as possible for he did not relish the demand that would come with it. Without even being in the King’s presence, Legolas knew what inspired his father, Thranduil, to summon him home. Thranduil most likely felt that it was inappropriate for a prince of Mirkwood to ignore the land of his rule by travelling across the length of Middle earth in the company of a dwarf and in service to a king that was not his father.

When Legolas had first come to Minas Tirith following the War of the Ring and the establishment of the Reunified Kingdom, it had been to aid Aragorn in the vanquishing of the orcs that had taken residence in the realm of Dagorland. Left largely unaffected by the War of the Ring, this once favorite battlefield of Sauron’s had become a haven for orcs and the other undesirable creatures of Mordor that had fled to its treacherous empty plains and claimed it for their own. With the Lord of Ithilien, Legolas and a number of his father’s men, loyal soldiers that were not ready for the Undying Lands, had lead the expedition to rid the borders of Gondor and Ithilien of this threat. Unfortunately, it was a malaise that lasted for some time and in between the campaigns, there were other adventures and dangers, most notably the recent difficulties with the ancient enemy Glaurung that had threatened Arwen’s child.

During this time, Legolas relished in being able to remain close to his dear friends, the members of the Fellowship who still remained in Middle earth. Although it was difficult to think of King Elessar as once being the Ranger called Strider, Legolas could still see him as nothing else. The Evenstar, now five months pregnant was also eager to have him remain in the White City, mostly because she still pined for the father that had left for the Undying Lands less than a month ago. Gimli had returned to the Glittering Caves recently and Legolas had been given the happy duty of standing at his side when he wed a lovely dwarf woman who went by the name of Lorin Elfist.

However, it now appeared that he was required home by his father. While Legolas loved Thranduil for the rogue he could sometimes be, there was a part of the Prince that did not relish the idea of returning to the court of Eryn Lasgalen. When he was home in Mirkwood, he was the Crown Prince Legolas who was required to do little but lay in wait for his father’s eventual demise or departure to the Undying Lands so that he could become king. In the meantime, the process of waiting could be endlessly tedious and while hunting the dark, foul things that roamed the greater Mirkwood could be distracting for a time, Legolas felt strangely rudderless. His friends had moved on. Aragorn was king with a wife and a child, not to mention a kingdom to consolidate and to strengthen; a thing that was more than on its way to being accomplished by the conception of an heir to the throne. The same could be said for Faramir, Gimli, even the halfings in the Shire had shaped themselves a future.

What had he done?

He had done nothing and if he returned to Mirkwood, he would continue to do nothing. As Legolas walked the sculpted gardens of the palace in the White City, he could not deny missing the forests of Mirkwood. He missed the smell of the trees in the morning when the warmth of the rising day had melted away the cool night and left its lush scent upon every leaf and flower. He missed its peace and its quiet but he knew if he returned home, it would satisfy this emptiness for a while, not forever. There had to be a benefit in being three thousand years old, to not have the uncertainty of a purposeless life plaguing one’s every thought.

Yet he knew he could not disobey his father. He might be capable of delaying his return for a time but he certainly could not avoid it. Once there, another matter would plague him, one he detested almost as much as returning home and resigning himself to the boredom of life at court. His father had been urging him to deal with this particular issue for quite some time and Legolas had managed to avoid it because everything that had transpired since the discovery of the One Ring had ensured that he was rarely at home to give it any thought. However, Legolas suspected that once he returned to Mirkwood, his father would resume his insistence that he take care of this piece of business.

And that was the acquiring of a wife.

He did not know why this was so important to his father, considering that the man had no plans of vacating the throne of Woodland Realms and so an heir was not required the way Aragorn had needed to solidify his reign. Legolas had lived three thousand years as the Crowned Prince of Mirkwood and his title was unlikely to change in the near future. What need did he have of a wife? Elves did not mate frivolously and though they might engage in the sexual proclivities common to all races, marriage was another thing entirely. Once they bound themselves to another, it was forever. In the same manner that his father had not taken a wife when Legolas’ mother had passed on or Celebrian had left Elrond for the Undying Lands year before, Legolas was not about to choose himself a soul mate simply because tradition demanded it of him.

He was still young by the standards of elves and with many of the elvish peoples departing Middle earth in droves, he knew that should he choose now, he would do so only out of need to satisfy the requirement of wife, not because he was in love. The only woman who had remotely sparked his interest in almost three thousand years of existence was human and that in itself posed a great deal of difficulties. It was folly for an elf and human to love. Luthien and Beren had endured all sorts of trials in order to be together and though it seemed ideal to watch the love of Aragorn and Arwen, Legolas felt sad to think that someday Arwen, the Evenstar would die a mortal death. If he loved a human, eventually he would lose her, he had no delusions of that. Legolas had no idea why he should even entertain such an idea.

Of course, he wondered from time to time how the Ranger Melia fared, though he confessed this to no one. Following their return from Nargothrond, she had returned to the wilds of Angmar, taking up her duties as Ranger. Their journey from the Blue Mountains to Mitholond had been fraught with contention because it was clear she did not appreciate his efforts on her behalf. He supposed in retrospect that much of their arguments had arisen out of his mischief making need to bait since her reactions amused him greatly. However, it was soon clear that she in turn had shown no feeling for him and he had to assume that the infatuation he acquired at the time of their meeting was his folly alone. Fortunately for him, it had since passed and he thought no more of her but in passing.

"Legolas," Aragorn’s sudden call broke him free of his thoughts. "There you are."

Legolas looked up and saw the king before him, appearing as if he had made his presence known long before Legolas had actually heard his name from Aragorn’s lips. The Prince of Mirkwood gazed briefly at the sky above and was somewhat surprised to see that the sun had crested overhead and was starting its evening descent. He had begun this walk shortly after he had received his father’s message and that had been early afternoon. He was not one who often lost track of time but he supposed his father’s news was reason enough for him to experience such a lapse.

"I am sorry," Legolas muttered, "I had not meant to be away for so long."

Aragorn nodded as they stood within a cul-de-sac in the path of the garden, where a fountain made of blue marble was situated. "There is nothing to be sorry for, I merely wondered where you were. I was told that there was a message from your father, King Thranduil."

"Yes," Legolas frowned, showing the king clearly that it was not good news.

"Is it what you feared?" Aragorn asked, having known Legolas long enough to discern why a summons home would upset the Prince to this extent.

"More or less," Legolas shrugged, not bothering to hide his discontent from his old friend. "He would like me home as soon as possible."

"And you mean to go," Aragorn replied with a heavy sigh for he would not be happy to see the back of Legolas. They had been constant companions since the formation of the Fellowship and the War of the Ring. If Aragorn had a best friend in the entire world, then Legolas would have surely been it and to lose another close friend after Gandalf and Frodo had left for the Undying Lands was more painful than the king would like to admit.

"I do not see that I have any other choice, he is the King after all," Legolas reminded.

"And you are his son, not his possession," Aragorn countered.

"I have responsibilities at home," Legolas replied but he knew that it was a false statement. Other than ensuring then he was at his father’s beck and call, which was not often when one was a prince, he could be assured that most of his time would be spent trying to find something to do.

"You have responsibilities to yourself first," Aragorn declared, aware that Legolas could be too noble for his own good. "Do you know what your trouble is, elf?"

Legolas stiffened for Aragorn did not refer to him as such unless he was about to impart to him some uncomfortable insight that was probably for his own good, even if he did not wish to hear it.

"You are more like your father than you would admit," Aragorn declared firmly. "You do not wish to inherit your kingdom, you want to earn it. Perhaps you should think about that."

Legolas flinched uncomfortably because as always, Aragorn’s observations had not only been astute but utterly correct. He did feel as if Mirkwood was merely his home, not a place that he wanted to rule as its master. He wanted to build something, just as Gimli was now doing in the Glittering Caves and Aragorn was doing with the Re-unified Kingdom. It was probably the first time he had ever confessed to himself even that he had held such desires and yet now that he had admitted it to himself, what was he to do about it? It seemed he had opened one door to find another one just as closed to him.

"Even if you are right," the elven prince replied, "one does not simply go out and win themselves a kingdom. It comes of fortune and opportunity."

"There are things that are set forth by destiny even before you are born and then there are moments when you must shape your own fate, despite the portents and omens that say you should act otherwise. Do not remain chained to duty Legolas, it can break the spirit if it is not what you desire." Aragorn said earnestly, squeezing the elf’s shoulder in order to show him how serious he was of this. As much as he loathed Legolas returning to Mirkwood, he feared the elf resigning himself to an unhappy fate when it was clear what he needed to do.

"You are right," Legolas sighed heavily. "I will go back to Mirkwood but only to tell my father that I wish to build for myself. I think it is time."

"You have no idea where to begin do you?" The king gave him a wicked smile.

"Not in the slightest," the elf grinned, feeling a little better now that he had spoken to Aragorn and the two men laughed like boys indulging in mischief.

"Come on Legolas," Aragorn led him out of the garden. "We should join the others."

"Yes," Legolas replied, still somewhat surprised that he had forgotten the time so completely.

Arwen had chosen to celebrate the new year by inviting all her friends to the White City to partake in a small celebration that would be exclusive for those she considered her family. Now that Elrond and most of the elves were departing Middle earth, she had more need of such gatherings. Legolas suspected it was a way to keep her loved ones close and considering that it was difficult to leave the city, the more her child grew within her, he could understand her need to have them visit.

The Lord and Lady of Ithilien were in attendance as well as Gimli who had returned to the city to continue work on the gates of Minas Tirith, leaving Lorin behind. Dwarf women once settled, preferred to remain at home and leave the travelling to their husbands. The hobbits unfortunately had business to attend at home and had declined to attend because the journey from the Shire to the White City required almost two weeks of travelling. Although disappointed, Aragorn and Arwen understood the reasons for their absence and it had not been quite that long since they had all seen each other at the parting of Gandalf and Frodo to the Undying Lands.

"I must confess Legolas, I came seeking you for another reason other than your father’s message," Aragorn replied as they took the familiar path to the palace walls.

"Really?" Legolas gazed at the king wondering what it was Aragorn had yet to tell him.

"I thought you would be interested in knowing that Melia has just arrived," Aragorn answered, trying to control the smile that was trying to escape his lips.

Gimli had given him and the rest of the Fellowship, word by word descriptions of Legolas’ banter with the lovely Ranger during their journey to Mithlond following their trials in Nargothrond. The lady had departed shortly after arriving at Mithlond, eager to return to her duties in Angmar, giving none of them any inkling that she and Legolas had been anything more than travelling companions. It explained something of why the elf seemed more somber than usual when they had all journeyed home.

Legolas’ expression was as stone.

"Melia is here?" He asked feigning casual interest.

"Yes," Aragorn nodded seriously even though his eyes were dancing with amusement at the elf’s efforts to remain indifferent to the news. "Arwen wanted her to join the celebration after all, she considers Melia a true friend after aiding her in her quest."

"I suppose a Ranger has little choice but to accept an invitation given by the Queen," Legolas remarked trying to hide from Aragorn that the news was the best he could have received at this time, especially in light of his father’s calls for his return home. Besides, how the Prince of Mirkwood felt towards any lady was his own business. There were some things he would share with no one, even a trusted friend such as Aragorn. After all, he did not recall Aragorn being any more forthcoming about his feelings before his marriage to Arwen.

"She looks well," Aragorn stated casually. "Though one wonders why a woman would chose such a life for herself."

"You chose it," Legolas shifted his gaze towards the king in accusation.

"I chose it for it was a means to an end but I sense it is not that way with her," Aragorn mused. He had little chance to know Melia before leaving their company all those months ago but she seemed to him, distant with thoughts behind her eyes that no one but she could comprehend.

"Yes," Legolas knew exactly of what he was speaking for he had seen it in her eyes and he understood all to well what she craved because he felt it lately as well.

The need to belong to something or someone.

***********

Melia gazed at herself in the mirror of the suite of rooms she had been assigned in the palace and wondered how long it was since she stood gazing at her reflection and preparing herself for a celebration. With sadness, she realised that it was well before her father had died. Following his death on the battlefield, her life had been one hard turn after the other. She regretted none of it of course because as difficult as her life had been since she was forced to flee the Sunlands, it was still her life and she alone had the power to shape her destiny.

Still, staring at her reflection, seeing not the Ranger but the woman in the one dress that she had kept hidden beneath all the practical things in her saddle bags, Melia could not help but think there was a stranger gazing back at her. The dress was simple, a blue shift that clung too tightly at the bodice and seemed to drape over her hands in elvish fashion. She had bought it when she had been travelling near the valley where Rivendell was meant to be, from a peddler who had made his trade tailoring garments copied from the fashions he had seen worn by the elves. She had no idea why she bought it for it was such a frivolous thing but she liked its color that reminded her of the sea she had sailed to reach Gondor when she had first fled from home.

It had remained almost forgotten in her saddlebag, kept because of its colour and because she remembered fondly the days when news would reach the tribe of the battle won and she would dress in her best, awaiting the return of her father from the front. Those days seemed so far away that there were times when Melia wondered if they had happened to some other girl for who she was now could not imagine that she had ever been so young.

When the invitation to join this gathering had reached her, Melia wondered why she had been offered such a grand gesture from the Queen of Gondor. True, they had experienced some extraordinary things during their adventure in Nargothrond but as a Ranger it had been her duty to aid the Queen. It was fortunate that both the Lady of Ithilien and the Queen of the Reunified Lands were merely of noble stock but also of disposition, however, Melia was not so presumptuous as to believe that the friendship they had extended her would last beyond the quest. After leaving them at Grey Havens, Melia had honestly never expected to hear from either again.

Thus it was to her complete astonishment when the Captain of the Rangers in Angmar had sought her out and present to her the request for her attendance at the celebration of elvish New Year in Minas Tirith. What was even more astonishing to her was the fact that this was not a holiday celebrated by the Gondorians and the gathering she was invited to was for the Queen’s personal companions. When she had arrived at the palace, she half expected to be told that it was a terrible mistake but then she was brought to the queen and greeted with open arms. Suddenly Melia was filled with more emotion than she had ever thought herself capable of feeling when she felt the warmth in that embrace.

They said that the Evenstar was the fairest maid of the day. Melia wondered if they knew her beauty was surpassed only by the kindness of her heart.

As Melia adjusted the gown upon her body, she pinned back her dark hair and hoped that she was suitable for the company she would be joining tonight. However, each time she glanced at the mirror, she was startled by who she saw there. The woman in the mirror did not look like a Ranger. When one wore breeches and spent most of one’s time riding through the wilderness, becoming a non person with neither identity nor gender, it was disconcerting to be reminded that she was once Melia, daughter of Hezare, War Master to the Tribe of Bor, not simply Melia the Ranger.

It was almost to her relief when she heard the door behind her. The sound of knuckles rapping against the thick wooden door had the power to snatch her away from her anxious thoughts and sent her hurrying to answer it. She had no idea what customs and protocols she needed to adhere to whilst in the Royal Court of Gondor so she was not eager to be rude by leaving her visitor to languish outside her door.

"Melia!" Eowyn burst into the room as soon as Melia had opened the door wide enough and embraced the startled Ranger in a warm hug of joy and friendship.

"Eowyn," Melia replied, still rather overwhelmed by the warm reception she was receiving.

"My goodness," Eowyn exclaimed, staring at the Ranger wearing a dress. "Now I can see why so many were shocked when I discarded my breeches for a dress. You look most enchanting."

"I feel as if I should be better armed," Melia retorted, remembering that Eowyn had a dry wit and would appreciate the humor.

Eowyn laughed and took her hand, leading her to the chairs in the room so that they could talk. Like Arwen, Eowyn had not forgotten how Melia had risked her life to aid them in the quest to Nargothrond. Though she claimed she was duty bound to aid the Queen of Gondor, they knew better and had taken her to their hearts. The quest to fight Glaurung had bonded them in the way the Fellowship had been forged and though Melia seemed amazed by it all, Arwen and Eowyn had never considered it otherwise. Besides, there were not many women that Eowyn knew personally with whom she could speak of riding into battle and swordplay that did not think that such action was wholly inappropriate for the Lady of Ithilien.

"How have you been?" Eowyn asked as they nestled comfortably into the wing chairs.

"I have been well, though life does not vary much for a Ranger. We ride, we watch and we report what is important to those in authority," Melia explained.

"And how goes your search for your mother?" Eowyn inquired, remembering Melia had set aside her own quest in order to help them.

Melia let out a disappointed sigh before responding. "I am afraid that I have found little evidence of her. Wherever she and her people disappeared, they hid well for I have spoken to no one who has even heard of her."

"You will find her," Eowyn said firmly, with more confidence then Melia felt.

"I know," Melia smiled, grateful for the gesture. "Now, how about yourself? How have you and your husband been?"

"Faramir and I fare well. We have spent much of the past months in North Ithilien trying to establish a sizeable settlement there but I fear that we only have resources enough for the north of the land. Not many wish to live so close to Mordor and though I think the king would like to see Ithilien filled with decent folk, I do not think it is possible."

"I understand South Ithilien is just as fertile as the northlands," Melia remarked, knowing something about the local topography of the area.

"It is," Eowyn responded. "I am told that there are great tracks of forests, to rival even that of Fangborn and Mirkwood but forest living is not for men but rather elves."

"They seem to be leaving these shores in greater numbers," Melia pointed. "I have seen many travel through Angmar bound for the Grey Havens."

Both women recalled the great enterprise of shipbuilding that had been taking place in the land during their brief stay when they had been journeying northwards to the Blue Mountains. It had been a tremendous undertaking of the elven smiths, to mobilise themselves like an army to ready more ships then either of them could count, in preparation of First Born’s departure from Middle earth. The time was fast drawing upon them when those who were left behind would begin to question if the Eldar had ever walked among them or were they merely figments of fanciful legend.

"Speaking of elves," Eowyn replied with a coy smile. "Legolas is here."

Melia’s expression was as stone.

"The Prince of Mirkwood is here?" She mused, unwittingly feigning casual interest that was not at all unique in the palace today.

"Yes," Eowyn nodded, having also heard Gimli’s description to the two’s reaction to each other during the return trip from the Blue Mountains. "Though I fear not for long. I have been told that he has been summoned to Mirkwood by his father King Thranduil."

"Well that is hardly surprising," Melia replied. "If he were my son I would try to keep a tight rein on him as well."

Eowyn chuckled and remarked, "I see you remember him well then."

"He can be difficult to forget when the mood takes him," Melia replied sarcastically, recalling how she had almost taken her bow to him when they traveled together. He had taken the concept of being a gentleman beyond the parameters of its intended use, Melia was certain. She could not understand how he could see her as a Ranger and yet be completely unprepared to recognize that she was more than capable of fending for herself.

"Are we speaking of the same, polite elf?" Eowyn cocked a brow at the Ranger.

"Are we speaking of a polite elf?" Melia returned her gaze with an equally mischievous expression.

Eowyn laughed and Melia joined her before the conversation regarding the Prince of Mirkwood deteriorated even further.

"It is time we join the gathering," Eowyn prompted their departure. "Arwen thought you might prefer a friendly face to accompany you to the hall instead of a serving girl. We will talk more tonight."

"I am grateful for your company," Melia did not lie in admitting that Arwen was extremely correct about that assertion and she made a mental note to thank the queen when in her presence again and hoped the rest of the evening would transpire as smoothly.

"Melia," Eowyn remarked, seeing the anxiety in her eyes she was trying hard not to reveal. "Arwen asked you to this gathering because she wanted to see all her friends and that includes you. There is nothing to be afraid of."

Melia nodded but at this moment she was so nervous about the illustrious gathering she would be attending that she would rather be facing orcs.

**********

"Did you miss me?" A familiar voice spoke so close to her ear that she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She and Eowyn had just entered the corridor leading towards the great hall when she felt the movement behind her.

Melia sucked in her breath and replied sweetly, perfectly aware of whom had asked the question. "Like the pox."

"Are you saying you will never be cured of me?" Legolas asked as he rounded the two women and stood before Melia, smirking.

Eowyn rolled her eyes and started to see what Gimli was talking about. "Prince Legolas, I take it you remember Melia?"

"Vaguely," Legolas shrugged, a little smile crossing lips as his eyes continued to stare at Melia. "Though I am certain that it was a scruffy Ranger I traveled with, not this woman," his eyes moved over her form, indicating the gown.

"I remember you," Melia retorted, feeling uncomfortable enough in these clothes without this elven aristocrat making her feel more self-conscious. "You were that annoying little puppy that kept tugging at my heels. I thought I had succeeded in leaving you alone in that glade in the hopes you would not find your way home."

"It is good to see that Gimli was not exaggerating," Eowyn retorted, shaking her head while she drew away from them both in order to keep from becoming caught in their sparring match. "I leave you to your verbal fencing. If you two can rest your bladed tongues for long enough, join us in the hall. I do believe the Queen is waiting."

Neither spoke until Eowyn had gone and despite his earlier calls to himself to keep from falling into old patterns when around her, that resolve had crumbled the instant Legolas had laid eyes upon her. She was just as he remembered but the dress had taken his breath away even though he hid it well. She had been a diamond in the rough when they had first encountered each other. He could see her loveliness but it was secondary to her will and her wit, which he found very similar to his own. However, this was the first time he had seen how truly female she was and it had robbed him of the sense to crush the feelings he knew could only be a mistake.

"Would you let me escort you?" He asked, offering her his arm.

"Now you are behaving like a gentlemen?" She stared at him, wondering what was to be done with this impossible elf.

"Well a moment ago I was pox," he pointed out. "It requires a few seconds for me to rise above that distinction."

"You are quite impossible," she broke into a smile and linked her arm through his before they started walking again. Despite herself, Melia found that he was good company, when he was not being quite so infuriating.

"I can assure you, I do not suffer that affliction alone," he grinned before his tone became more serious. "How have you been?"

"I think I preferred you impossible," Melia retorted and softened a little because his inquiry was sincere. "I have been well. I hear you are bound for home."

He stiffened only slightly but enough for Melia to know that he was not happy about that fact and she wondered why a Prince would dislike returning to his realm?

"Yes," he nodded slowly. "My father requires me home and I have been away for far too long. It is time."

"Does that not make you happy?" She asked pointedly. She knew not how to be subtle with him. Their relationship had never allowed them to endure the tentative steps of walking around each other’s feelings. In some sense, it was good that they could be brutally honest with each other.

"No," he shook his head. "Not as much as I should be."

A pregnant pause followed as she debated what she should say to him. It was far simpler dealing with the Prince of Mirkwood when they were trading barbs and insults but seeing him visibly unhappy like this bothered her more than it should have.

"Perhaps you should go home only to visit," Melia suggested. "It would satisfy your father’s desire to see you and then go on your way again."

"I have considered something else," Legolas admitted. "When I have thought it through, I will tell my father."

"Good," she smiled, genuinely pleased that he had some other course left to him. When her father had died, she had none and she never took for granted the right to choose one’s destiny.

"What of you Melia?" Legolas looked at her, realising that he knew little about her. Obviously she had come from the lands of the Haradrim but the race was not known to depart its borders unless it was to make war on their enemies. "How does an Easterling find her way so far from the lands of her birth?"

"When she had even less choices than you," Melia replied without thinking.

His brow knotted, not at all liking the sound of that. Was she driven from her home for some reason? "What do you mean?"

Melia frowned, rebuking herself inwardly at her lapse but then deciding that she could tell him little for he would no doubt plague her until she revealed the meaning of her words. "In the Sunlands, a woman has no choice in who she is to wed. Marriage is arranged by family and so it was done with me. My father had died and his family believed that it was time that I was betrothed. The choice was not mine and I had no wish for marriage so I fled."

"Could you have not simply refused?" Legolas asked, finding the action of forcing a woman into marriage to some man she could not endure to be rather barbaric.

"In the Sunlands, a woman may not refuse a man or a proposal of marriage arranged by her family," Melia said with a sigh. "My father had spared me from such traditions because he did not wish a loveless marriage for me but once he died there was no stopping such an arrangement from being made by my relatives. Leaving was the only course left to me."

"That is a sad tale," Legolas replied as they continued to the great hall. "But I supposed you ought to be grateful," he remarked, casting her a sidelong glance as he spoke.

"Grateful?" she looked at him.

"If you did not find this suitor so terribly unacceptable, you would never have left to meet me and where would the joy have been in your world then?" That damnable smile on his face again.

"You are impossible," she shook her head.

"But you know I am right," he grinned.

"I do not have to admit that," Melia responded and yet found herself entwining her arm deeper into his.

***********

Although the gathering took place in the great hall of the palace, the proceedings were surprisingly informal with only the handful of people in attendance, all of which Arwen and Aragorn considered their good friends. Chief among the attendants were the members of the Fellowship, the Lord and Lady of Ithilien and Melia herself. Until now, she had not realised how much of an honor it was to be considered a friend of the Queen for it appeared that she was in select company. It was the first time in too long that she had been a part of any celebration where she was welcomed at the table. For as long as she remembered, her lineage had made her an outcast even among her family who showed their anger at her mother’s abandonment of her father on her.

"Melia, were your accommodations suitable?" Arwen, Queen of Gondor asked when she saw Melia and Legolas enter the room. Arwen was in her fifth month of pregnancy and the growing babe inside her could be seen by the swell of her body. Melia wondered if it was possible for the woman to appear lovelier than she had been. She was already a great beauty but she really did possess the glow of radiance common to women with child. It was no wonder that the king could only look upon his wife with eyes of adoration.

"Luxurious in comparison to what I am accustomed to," Melia confessed.

"Come now, Arwen," Aragorn joined them. "Melia is a Ranger. We spend most of our time in the wilderness, as long as it is dry and safe, we can sleep anywhere."

"And yet she manages to look less bedraggled than you," Arwen teased. "I remember your state when you returned to Imladris from the wilderness."

Aragorn gave his wife a wounded look, "it was because I was making haste to return to you Undomiel. If I stopped for even one moment to groom myself, it was one moment too long that I was kept away from you. I could not endure even that slightest delay." Aragorn flashed his wife a look of pure innocence that drew laughter from everyone present.

"Nicely done," Arwen stared at him, not believing him for a second but impressed by the sly weaving of words he had produced to extricate himself from embarrassment.

Appearing completely unrepentant, the king smiled proudly at his wife before responding, "diplomacy has taught me much."

"In any case I thank you for your hospitality," Melia remarked once husband and wife had completed their private joke. "My room will be a luxury I shall enjoy until I have to return to Angmar."

"How goes it there?" Aragorn asked, always interested in how things were transpiring in the rest of his kingdom. As a former Ranger, he knew perfectly well that a Ranger’s duties involved being the eyes and ears to whatever king they served. He could be assured of accurate intelligence from her.

"It goes well. The orcs have decreased in numbers and their raiding parties are sporadic," she answered, remembering now that he was not Aragorn but King Elessar and behaved accordingly. "They are being driven further into Forodwaith by local militia as well as the Rangers. I do not think it will be that long before we are no longer troubled by them at all."

"That is good to know," Aragorn nodded. "Middle earth has been blighted long enough by their evil. I think there will be pockets of their race emerging from time to time but it pleases me that we are making some headway."

"Which is more than I can say of Ithilen," Faramir added his voice in the discussion. "There are orcs there in greater numbers."

"Its is unfortunate," Legolas replied. He knew that there had been border skirmishes with northern Ithilien and had taken part in some of the campaigns to eradicate them but they seem to withdraw into the southern lands. "The forests there are vast and there are many places for them to hide."

"What is needed there is settlement," Aragorn remarked. "If more people were willing to dwell there, the orcs could be driven away. However, those lands are too near Mordor for the comfort of most."

"It is a difficult choice," Eowyn commented. "To risk attack from orcs or whatever dangers may still lie in Mordor."

"I doubt there is anything left after we were done with it," Gimli said enthusiastically. "The War of the One Ring decided Sauron’s fate once and for all."

"I would not be so quick to dismiss the dark powers that were once of that land," Arwen replied. "Evil of such power is extremely hard to kill. For all we know, our future progeny may suffer for something we did not finish."

No one could argue with her on that point after what they had experienced with Glaurung. If anything had reminded them that not all evils had been vanquished with Sauron, it was the presence of the dragon that had emerged straight from the pits of Angaband when Melkor still warred with the Valar. No doubt there were other threats, beyond orcs that were lying hidden, waiting for the right moment to wreak mischief upon them all. However, none of them were too eager to speak of such possibilities when the reason for their gathering was an occasion of celebration.

Despite this desire, however, Legolas found that their conversation about Ithilien and the vast southern forests being unoccupied inspiring something of an idea within him. Although he spoke nothing of that idea to his friends since there were numerous obstacles ahead of him, he could not help feeling the fire of excitement at what might be possible if he was able to surmount it. It bore further investigation before he could even consider it seriously but it was the first spark of hope he had felt since Thranduil’s message had come from Mirkwood. Even though he was a great deal older than Aragorn, the elf had to begrudgingly admit that Aragorn had been correct about his situation.

Legolas did have to find his own way and seize the opportunity when it came to create something of his own.

It appeared that chance might come sooner than either of them believed.

**************

The evening transpired with much merriment as the meal was served and Melia forgot that she was in the presence of King Elessar Telecontari and his lovely queen, Arwen Evenstar. It was hard to see him as the leader of the Reunified Kingdom when he had such a dry wit, a love of life and more intelligence than was usually customary for a man of his station. It also warmed her heart to see the adoration he held in his eyes for his wife for it had been clear to Melia when he had sought them out in Nargothrond, just how far he would travel for his beloved Undomiel. Arwen was equally smitten and the love they held for one another was like a bright beacon to all those in their presence. The King’s love for his wife was almost equaled by his affection for his friends.

The others were equally relaxed even though they had been party to great events of their time. Faramir who had been a Ranger of Ithilien still bore the marks of that vocation just as Aragorn. He would always be a Ranger at heart, even though he was now Lord of the land that he had once sought to protect and defend. His manner though not as overpowering as Aragorn’s, was a quiet kind of strength and in comparison to Eowyn’s headstrong and often fiery disposition, he was the perfect foil to her heated temperament. They suited each other well.

Of the men, it was perhaps Gimli she knew the best. He was the first dwarf she had ever met and during the journey to Mithlond when the urge to strangle Legolas was so intense she needed to stay well away from the elf, there had been time to know the Lord of the Glittering Caves. She found that she liked Gimli a great deal for the dwarf was astonishingly practical and when he examined her crossbow, had come out with all sorts of interesting ideas on how she might hone the shape of the bolts she used in them, to perfect her aim. They spoke of the lands from which he came and the wonders to be found deep beneath the earth. He spoke something of the lady that he had waiting for him in the Glittering Caves and Melia was pleased to learn during the course of the evening that he had married Lorin when he returned home.

The only thing she did not understand was how he had managed to become such good friends with an elf. She knew from experience that the two races disliked each other intensely for reasons that were more than just sociological and cultural. The elves preferred to live with nature whereas the dwarves liked to shape it to suit, to make it better and profit from it at the same time. However, none of these differences seemed to come into play when Gimli and Legolas were concerned and she wondered how she could get along so well with one while the other seemed to vex her beyond reason.

When the party had disbanded, Melia found that she could not sleep. Being a Ranger ensured that she could exist on little sleep and so far, the day had not been so taxing that her energy was exhausted. The business of dining with friends in a great hall was far less work than roaming the wild, keeping watch for every sound and movement for to ignore it was to do so at one’s own peril. Thus she found herself wandering the gardens, enjoying the sight of greenery under the pale moonlight of the twilight sky. She had become so accustomed to sleeping under the stars that too long within walls made her uncomfortable and surrounded by this freedom would settle her unease a little for her slumber this evening.

Still, in general her mood was good because for the first time in too long, she had found friends who were noble and true, who knew what she was and had no words of reproach for her manner. Not since her father’s passing had she felt such acceptance and though she knew she would soon have to return to the wilds once more, it was good to know that for awhile at least, she would have them. Melia followed the path until she reached the marble fountain with its ornate sculptures. She stood there watching the reflection of the full moon upon its water and was lost in the beauty of the cascading water.

"You should not be wandering the grounds alone," his voice slipped out of the darkness almost like a shadow.

Melia let out an exasperated sigh, folding her arms in impatience as Legolas stood up from the stone bench where he had been seated and walked towards her. It appeared as if he had been there for some time and Melia wondered what reason he would have to sit in the darkness like this. During the night, he had shown none of the melancholy that she had seen when he had confessed his reluctance to return home. In fact, the seating arrangement at the table of the king saw them placed side by side and he had been surprisingly pleasant company.

"Please tell me you have not followed me," she asked knowing that he did not really but insults were the way they greeted each other and it was a comfortable icebreaker.

"Oh yes," Legolas gave her a sarcastic look. "I sat here in the vain hopes that you would happen to walk this way instead of a dozen different paths that crisscross these gardens.," he said with exaggerated dramatics when he reached her.

The Prince of Mirkwood ensured that he stood at arm’s length from her. As much as she might think herself unlike other women, there were customs and conventions that Legolas had been raised with that he was not about to abuse, no matter who the lady in question.

"I deserve that," Melia threw up her hands in defeat, laughing as she did so. "Really, why are you out here?"

There was real concern in her voice, Legolas noticed.

"I could not sleep and I think better with the stars above me." He answered after a moment and glanced briefly at the myriad twinkling of stars in the indigo canvas before meeting her gaze again. "But always in my heart was the thought that maybe you were here as well." He added with a smile.

"I’m sure," Melia rolled her eyes. "How fortunate you are that I chose this path and decided to end your misery."

Legolas uttered a short laugh and stared at her, "what is it about you that brings a lilt to my heart?"

"Your enjoyment of rejection," she retorted. "And your misguided belief that I need protecting."

"Well it is hard to see you as a Ranger when you wear a dress," he returned. "I do not know what shocks me more, that you look lovely wearing a dress or that you have one at all."

Melia glared at him through narrowed eyes, "tell me Prince of Mirkwood, were you always blessed with a silver tongue or has it taken time to acquire the skill?"

"Three millennia of practice actually," he responded, enjoying their verbal sparring intensely. He sincerely had not expected to find her here when he had come here after the celebration had drawn to a close. He was true to his word when he explained that his thoughts about his future would come easier to him if he had the cloak of the stars above his head. However, he could not deny that he enjoyed this fencing match they seemed to participate in whenever they were together. "Am I not sweeping you off your feet?"

"You could not sweep me off my feet even if you had a broom," Melia declared.

He pretended to suck in his breath as if he had been gripped with pain, "you are harsh with me lady. Did I tell you that I enjoy that?"

"You have no shame," Melia turned away. "I will leave you to your thoughts before you say anything that will require me slapping you in feminine outrage."

"A lady should never wander about without an escort." He called out to her, unable to resist teasing her as she glided away from him towards the palace again.

"And when I find a suitable one, I will be sure to ask for him his assistance," she returned sweetly before disappearing into the darkness, leaving Legolas with a corresponding smile on his face.

************

 When Melia returned to her room, she was rather surprised to find that Arwen was awaiting her. Melia found the queen seated on the same chair that she had greeted Eowyn in earlier.

"My queen, is there something wrong?" Melia asked, wondering what could warrant Arwen’s presence in her room at so late an hour.

"Nothing is wrong," Arwen quickly assured her, aware of how self-conscious Melia felt at being in the palace. In the woods it had been simple, she, Eowyn and Melia had been on a quest, equal parts to an important triumvirate. Here in Minas Tirith, that dynamic was no more. She was Queen and no matter how much Melia or even Eowyn for that matter tried, they would never be able to forget that. "I came to your door and entered when I realized that you were not in your room."

"I am sorry," Melia apologized. "I have difficulty sleeping indoors and thought a walk might help my slumber this evening."

"As is your right as my guest," Arwen smiled beckoning her to sit down so that they could talk. "I did not mean to impose upon you Melia but I wanted to speak with you about an important matter."

"I am at your service as always, my queen." Melia replied sincerely and meant it. Arwen had extended a hand of friendship that she never dreamed possible and whatever the queen asked of her, it would never be enough.

"Then call me Arwen, as you did when we were fellow travelers," Arwen implored.

"As you wish," Melia nodded, trying to rise to the friendship this noble woman was offering her. "Arwen."

"Good," Arwen smiled, glad that formality was dispensed with. "Melia, I had reason other than this celebration for bringing you to the White City."

Melia’s brow arched with interest. "You did?"

"Yes," Arwen nodded slowly. "For your consideration and your invaluable assistance to me and my babe, I wanted to do something for you when I returned to Minas Tirith."

"I do not require a reward," Melia started to say when Arwen cut her off.

"I know that," the queen replied. "However, I thought that I might aid you in your own quest since you were gracious enough to ensure that I survived mine."

"I do not understand," Melia looked at her in confusion.

"Let me ask you one thing first," Arwen stared back. "Who exactly was your mother?’

Melia swallowed, not anticipating having this conversation today, however, Arwen was asking her question for good reason and Melia felt bound to answer. After a lengthy pause, Melia finally spoke. "I am not sure. I know her name but little else. My father claimed she called herself a River Woman but since I have begun my search, I have made little headway in deciphering what that is exactly."

"I have heard the term before," Arwen met her gaze and replied.

"You have?" Melia’s jaw dropped in shock. Finally, after all these years of searching, someone who had the answer she sought! It was almost too good to be true! "You know them?"

"No," Arwen shook her head. "I know of them. They were supposedly Maiar or sprites who served Ulmo, the Lord of the Waters."

"Maiar?" Melia’s shock continued to grow. Was she some kind of a river daughter? Like the legendary Goldberry who was supposed to inhabit the Old Woods? "My mother was a Maiar?"

"It has never been truly discovered what they are though they are known to take lovers for a time. Men seem to suit their purposes best for they are not immortal and they are somewhat disposable," Arwen tried to explain it as kindly as possible but there were some truths that were simply unavoidable. "Before my grandmother, the Lady of the Lothlorien departed for the Western Shores, I asked if she knew anything about the River Women along the Anduin, particularly of one named Ninuie."

"And?" Melia asked, her voice hushed as is she dared not speak too loudly for fear of ruining the revelation.

"Galadriel knew nothing of Ninuie," Arwen replied and saw Melia’s crestfallen expression before continuing. "However, prior to the War of the Ring, Dol Guldur was occupied by the Nazgul and they used that terrible place to commit all manner of atrocities against Lothlorien and Woodland Realm. It is believed that the Nazgul may have captured and killed the River Women in their dungeons."

Melia said nothing for a moment because her heart was turning into stone and threatening to shatter. She would have wept at the unfairness of it, the cruel trickery of fate that would allow her to come so far and search so long only to be met by this unhappy conclusion but she could not. She could not because she knew that Arwen was wrong. Perhaps some of the River Women were killed in Dol Guldur, she had no doubt of that intelligence especially when the source was Galadriel but she knew her mother was not among the dead.

"Not my mother," Melia whispered after a while. Her eyes closed when she answered, "my mother is not dead."

Arwen took her denial to be borne of frustration and grief and sought the right words to speak that would not cause Melia any more sorrow than she already felt. "Melia, you must face the possibility. I have come face to face with the Nazgul. They were beyond darkness. They existed in shadow and every waking thought of their existence was to serve Sauron in any way possible. The River Women were possibly Maiar or at the very least servants of Ulmo. The Nazgul would have been compelled to destroy them, lest they chose to aid the forces of light against their master."

"I do not doubt your words," Melia blinked and stared at Arwen again. "I believe you and the Lady of the Wood in the assertion that many of the River Women were killed but my mother was not one of the dead."

"How can you be so certain of this?" Arwen asked, starting to understand that her denial of what was almost certainly the truth, may have some foundation other than her stubborn refusal to believe.

"I simply know," Melia replied, reaching for Arwen’s hands and holding them entwined in hers. For the first time, she really did feel like Arwen’s friend and she loved the Evenstar dearly for the inquiries made on her behalf from the Lady of the Wood but she could not believe that Ninuie was dead.

"You must trust me in this. I know that she lives and thanks to you, I now have a place to begin my search, a place that is more than just words spoken by reports I cannot substantiate or arrived to me by mere rumor. I must go to Dol Goldur."

"Dol Goldur!" Arwen exclaimed, never intending to send Melia to that dark place when she had sought this audience. "There is nothing there! It has been cleansed of all evil since the death of Sauron and the end of the war."

"If the River Women were there once, then that is where I must go," Melia said firmly. "It is a place to start."

"How can you be so sure that she still lives?" Arwen asked.

Melia did not answer but inwardly, she responded to the queen in a wordless answer.

She knew because she could still hear her mother’s torment in her dreams.

Part Two:
Travelling Companions

She should have known this would happen.

The queen of Gondor cursed herself for being a fool for not anticipating this reaction when she gave Melia the news that her mother might have perished at Dol Guldur. The race of men could be notoriously stubborn when their mind was set upon a course. She should have suspected by Aragorn’s fine example of this both irritating and admired trait of his race. Why should Melia be any different? The woman had spent years searching for her mother, years! Of course she would deny all that effort was for nothing by persisting in the belief that her mother still lived. Arwen could not begin to imagine what it must be like to find that the reason for one’s purpose in life had suddenly disappeared before one’s eyes. Everything that Melia was since arriving in Middle Earth from Far Harad was defined by her search for her mother. If that search was over, what was left for her?

Unfortunately, Arwen’s understanding of the situation did not alter the unacceptable turn it had taken. Melia’s determination to journey to Dol Guldur was folly. Even now, the woods of Mirkwood were not entirely safe. The Woodland Realm had been purged of many of its former evils but forests were enormous and in their shadows, ancient creatures most assuredly remained hidden as long as they were not provoked into emerging. As far as she knew, Melia knew little of Mirkwood other than its existence and for her to attempt to journey through its forests with little knowledge of what awaited her there was sheer recklessness. Arwen argued these points strenuously following Melia’s declaration of her intent to leave for Dol Guldur, however the Ranger would not be swayed.

She retired from Melia’s room, pondering what was to be done about this since she would feel herself responsible if any harm were to befall the Ranger should she insist on the trip to Dol Guldur. Save for asking Aragorn to order her not to go or imprison her in a dungeon which could only result in the Ranger becoming fugitive, since she was not likely to obey, Arwen could think of nothing else to prevent disaster from occurring. She thought long and hard what she ought to do, remaining awake most of the night, as she was certain Melia was as well, thinking of what was to be done. The Ranger had confessed her desire to leave right away so Arwen did not even have the benefit of time to ponder what was to be done. Aragorn noted her anxiety through the twilight hours and though he asked of her the reason for her restlessness, Arwen could not bring herself to betray her confidence.

The solution however, when it finally came to Arwen was painfully obvious.

Or it should have been if she were a more presumptuous person than she was. With the answer in her head, Arwen had arisen early that morning, having made Melia promise her the night before not to leave the White City without first informing her queen of her departure. Fortunately, the Ranger was still bound by duty to her queen to obey Arwen’s request, despite their friendship. Thus was the reason that Arwen now found herself making her way to the stables, hoping to intercept the Prince of Mirkwood before he embarked upon his morning ride. She knew Legolas cared for the Ranger in some fashion but she did not make light of it as the rest of the company because she knew him long enough to know he was not prone to making attachments lightly.

Especially when the possible object of his affections was a human.

Because of her lineage, being hybrid of elf and man, Arwen had a choice in how she would live out her life. She had chosen a mortal life to be with Aragorn and it was not a decision she ever regretted, even in the face of the massive departures from these shores of the elves. However, Legolas was a full-blooded son of the First Born. There was no choice for him and like all elves; he would mate but once for all time. In the light of that kind of finality, it was no wonder that he had remained unmarried or unclaimed by any female, elven or human in nearly three thousand years of his life. There had been a time in her youth that her father Elrond had considered a match with the fair Prince of Mirkwood, but they saw each other too much like brother and sister to ever feel the passion of romantic love.

Ever since he had been visiting in Minas Tirith, Arwen knew it was Legolas’ habit to ride out of the city for a few hours. He was, by his very nature, a Woodland elf and though he was reluctant to return home for reasons of his own, he still needed to feel the air of the forest around him as frequently as possible. The few hours where he was allowed to explore the wilds around the White City was more than enough to satisfy this need, though Arwen was certain that even he would pine for Mirkwood after too long a period away from it. She entered the stable and found him saddling his steed Arod, the horse that had been presented to him by the King of the Mark in the first days of the War of the Ring. Since then, Arod traveled with him everywhere.

"Legolas," Arwen called out to the Prince in elvish. When they were alone, they often reverted to their native language. He was gently brushing down Arod’s flank and looked up at her at her call.

"You awaken early my lady," Legolas stopped what he was doing and bow gently at her in greeting. "I thought I was the only one who chooses to arise at this hour."

It was early but Arwen was elven like him and she too awoke with the dawn. It was a habit that she was unable to discard since leaving Imladris where everyone awoke with the sunrise. In Minas Tirith however, it was beneficial to Arwen to continue her early rising, for as queen, it allowed her to gain more from her day.

"It serves me to have more hours in my day," she responded with a smile.

"Will you join me this morning for a ride?" He asked politely. In their youth, they rode a great deal together and he knew her to be an even better horsewoman than Aragorn. There were not many maidens, elven or human who could out pace the Nazgul.

"I wish that I could," Arwen sighed, thinking that there was nothing nicer than a morning ride. "Unfortunately, I do not think I am allowed," she explained patting her swelling abdomen lightly. "He makes demands of me already."

"He is his father’s son," Legolas gave her a warm smile, thinking how radiant she appeared with her babe’s glow throughout her.

"True," Arwen nodded, giving him no argument on that particular statement. "I have reason for seeking you out this morning Legolas, I need your aid."

"Indeed?" The archer’s brow crooked upwards. "I am at your service as always, Evenstar."

"You are a good friend," she reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I fear I have done something foolish and now I have set events into motion I cannot stop."

"What do you mean?" His tone became serious and one could very well believe that he would one day be the future king of Mirkwood when he gazed upon her with such intent.

"I may have unwittingly given Melia reason to travel to Dol Guldur," Arwen explained somewhat embarrassed still, that she had not considered that her revelation to Melia would result in this.

"Dol Guldur?" Legolas exclaimed, his surprise was as evident as his horror. "Why in the name of Arda, would she wish to go there?"

Arwen hesitated, debating whether or not she should break Melia’s confidence and knew even as the thought crossed her mind at revealing the truth to Legolas that she could not. "I cannot tell you Legolas, I promised her I would not."

Legolas opened his mouth to protest but Arwen continued speaking before he could utter a word.

"She has good reason Legolas, that is all you need to know and nothing will keep her from it, not an order from Aragorn to desist, nothing. I know her determination in this, she will go there or die trying."

Legolas could not imagine any reason to go to Dol Guldur, whatever the cause. However, Arwen’s reluctance to tell him why brought to light how little he really knew about Melia to begin with. He recalled what she had said about fleeing from Far Harad, to escape a marriage that she did not wish. Had that only been part of the tale?

"Evenstar," he looked at her seriously. "The wilds of Mirkwood and Dol Guldur are not to be taken lightly. For those who have never wandered its paths, it can be deadly. I have lived there all my life, I know what roams those woods."

"That is why I have come to you," Arwen returned his gaze. "You intend on returning home to Mirkwood, do you not?"

"Yes," he said slowly, starting to see where she was going with this line of inquiry and deciding immediately that it was going to cause a great deal of trouble if he was correct about Arwen’s intentions.

"Could you not travel with her to Dol Guldur?" Arwen implored. "If you went with her, you could see to it that she is safe. No one knows its lands as you do."

"Evenstar," he spoke hastily before she could continue further with this idea of hers. "Even if I agree to your request and at this time, I am not saying that I am, there is no way you will be able to convince Melia to accept my aid."

He knew Melia well enough to know that the lady would be extremely averse to his insisting that he join her on this ill-advised journey to Dol Guldur. As much as he teased her about not being able to fend for herself, requiring his constant companionship to keep her protected, he knew otherwise. She was extremely capable. One did not become a Ranger if one did not have one’s wits about them. However, despite that, she was exceedingly stubborn in matters that required her asking for someone’s aid, least of all his. He knew that this was his fault in part but it was a truth that was unchangeable.

"Legolas," she stared at him hard. "In the three millennia that I have known you, I know that you have not looked at a woman the way you look at her. You are like my brother, Prince of Mirkwood and I know your heart. If you care about this woman as much as I think you do, you will find a way to convince her. She cannot go there alone. You need to be with her when she reaches Dol Guldur and finds there what I know she will."

Legolas swallowed hard, turning his eyes away because Arwen could see through him. He was the only son of King Thranduil and he would have spent much of his childhood alone if it had not been for the bright spark that the Evenstar and her brothers had been to him with her friendship with their almost familial bond. He could not deny that he felt something for Melia, something that he did not understand, that frightened him greatly. Remaining on the outskirts of feeling for the Ranger had been harmless enough play but Arwen had brought to light what lay beneath the surface of the gentle mischief that seemed only to surface when Melia was near.

"Alright," he conceded with a nod, his eyes staring at the stable floor for it was easier than allowing the Evenstar to look into his soul with her sapphire gaze. "I will do as you ask. I will go with her but I tell you now that riding the dragon Smaug bareback would be a far easier task than convincing her."

"You can do it," Arwen offered him an encouraging smile. "I know you can."

"Well," Legolas frowned, not at all sharing her confidence in his ability to convince Melia to accept his help. "You had better let me tell her. In your condition, your skill in evading flying objects is less than mine."

****************

Melia had not slept the night before.

Her thoughts were too filled with Arwen’s news to be able to close her eyes and drift into slumber. She thought of all the years she had been searching, the clues that led nowhere, the whispers of possibility that ended with disappointment upon learning the search were for nothing. Now here was the first tangible proof she had that her mother existed as more than her father’s memories. Melia had been too young to remember Ninuie and there were times when the goal before her was so far away, she wondered if perhaps she was on a fool’s errand, that this quest she had driven herself to fulfill was an empty one with no end.

All that changed with Arwen’s report that Galadriel herself had known of the River Women. Despite there being no news of her mother specifically, at least now Melia knew that the River Women were real and not some fanciful tale woven by a father wanting to explain to his daughter why her mother had left them both. She had promised Arwen she would not leave without telling the Queen of Gondor that she was departing Minas Tirith. After Arwen’s aid and friendship, not even Melia’s burning desire to fulfill her quest would have her slight the hospitality of so fine a lady. However, Melia did intend to leave the White City before the sun set upon this day.

She had risen early, packed her belongings and tried to discern from the maps she had found in the library of the palace which would be the best way to approach Dol Guldur. Although she had ridden her horse to Gondor, she had no wish to take the animal when it was possible that there would be terrain the mare could not traverse. From what she was able to discern from the parchments before her, the best route to Dol Guldur was by the way of the great Anduin River. By boat, she would be able to travel down its length, pausing only for a day to pass the rushing waters of Rauros Falls before resuming her journey again. If she approached Dol Guldur by the Eastern Shore, it would only take her a few days to reach the former Nazgul stronghold. Arwen had claimed that there was nothing in that dark place to find but Melia knew the queen was wrong. She could feel it in her bones.

Within the confines of her room, Melia gazed herself at herself in the mirror and found a more comforting reflection than that woman she had spied in a dress the night before. The Ranger before her feared little, was capable of handling herself in the company of all and never felt an ounce of self-doubt. The Ranger could face whatever terrible outcome her journey to Dol Guldur might yield, far better than that woman in the dress could ever manage. In her heart Melia knew that she hid behind the title. For so long, it protected her against everything, including the loneliness she would admit to no one.

Being the Ranger was far safer than being Melia.

She had come to the decision that there was no reason to delay and turned towards the door in order to find Arwen and thank her for her kindness when it knocked loudly before she could reach it. For an instant, Melia hoped that it was Arwen at her door so that she could carry out her farewells and depart the White City. In truth, a long and involved farewell with the others would simply make her uncomfortable and Melia was eager to begin her journey. She hastened her pace to cease the constant rapping against the wood that by the time she reached for the doorknob had become quite irritating and made her question who would be so impatient.

"Departing so soon?" The Prince of Mirkwood asked when she pulled the door open.

"Yes," Melia nodded; wondering what it was he wanted. Had Arwen told him that she was leaving? Of all the people at her door this morning, why did it have to be him? "A matter of some urgency has arisen, I have to leave immediately."

"What could possibly be so important that a Ranger would deny the hospitality of the queen?" Legolas asked innocently.

"I do not have time to spar with you elf," she retorted and turned on her heels, retreating into the room so that she could retrieve her belongings and continue on her way.

"It would seem so," Legolas nodded following her inside much to Melia’s chagrin.

Melia paused, uncomfortable by his presence and somewhat bewildered as to what he wanted of her. Turning around after retrieving her saddlebags, she faced him once more. "What is it you wish of me, Prince?"

"Why do you not call me Legolas?" he asked suddenly, surprising her with the question.

"Because I would rather call you vexing!" She cried out in exasperation. "What is it you want?"

He straightened up and looked her straight in the eye as if what he wanted to say required him to brace himself for her reaction and Melia guessed immediately, that she was not going to like his words.

"I know you’re going to Dol Guldur," he stated.

Melia let out a sigh of frustration, realizing why Arwen had made her wait and bristled with annoyance at the queen’s subterfuge.

"Yes I am," she answered because he was waiting for her response and appeared as if he would not move from the spot unless she provided one. "Not that it is any of your concern."

"If you are going to Dol Guldur then it becomes very much a matter of my concern," Legolas declared firmly, refusing to yield anything to her on this point. "That is a dark, dismal place with nothing left to recommend it to anyone. It is a blight upon the land that should be avoided. You court great peril by going there alone."

"That is my choice," Melia replied with just as much determination. "Not yours."

"I am the Prince of Mirkwood, Dol Guldur is part of the Woodland Realm," Legolas stared at her and declared imperiously, "That makes it my sovereign concern. You will not step one foot into the wood of Mirkwood without encountering my father’s men, that is if what lives there does not chose to make a meal out of your first."

"I will take my chances," she whispered, refusing to show that his words had shaken her as Melia attempted to brush past.

However Legolas was not about to let her abscond so easily. What in Eru’s name was so important that she be so stubborn in her resolve to reach Dol Guldur? He could see the fear in her eyes at his warning but she was still determined to go, despite it. Why? As she attempted to slip past him, Legolas grabbed her arm and stayed her beside him in order to find out.

"I will go with you," he replied gently, hoping that would appease her slightly.

Her eyes flashed in understanding and she pulled away from him fiercely. "Absolutely not!"

"Melia," Legolas stiffened, coming to the conclusion that there would be no compromise with her on this point. "You need me."

"I need nothing from you!" Her eyes blazed at him. "This is not your concern. Arwen had no right to bring you into this!"

"She brought me into this because she cares about you," Legolas flared back in turn, rising to Arwen’s defense. "The queen fears for your life although quite honestly, I cannot imagine why since you are so determine to squander it by this foolish desire of yours!"

He had no wish to be so harsh with her but she needed to understand what awaited her once she entered Dol Guldur and Mirkwood. Legolas had no difficulty in being cruel to be kind because Arwen was right, he cared too much about her to spare her feelings by not speaking the truth she refused to acknowledge. Melia stared back at him; her face wrought with indecision. He guessed that she might be seeing the sense of his words but the person she was made it difficult for her to admit that she might need his assistance.

"Melia," he said gently, "you are no fool and I will not treat you as one. Despite how I may jest that you are unable to fend for yourself, in your heart you know that I do not believe that for an instant but you must trust me in this, Mirkwood is dangerous. I have lived there all my life and I still know caution when I walk the paths that are familiar to me. You cannot enter the wood without permission of the Woodland Elves."

Melia closed her eyes, wanting to refute everything he said but she could not. However, her reasons for objecting so strenuously to him had little to do with her quest and had everything to do with him. For reasons she could not comprehend, this elf made her exceedingly aware of him. It was disquieting and she had no wish to be that way when she was about to embark upon such an important journey. Yet she knew he was right. She knew of Mirkwood by reputation and if she thought that she could enter its forests without arousing the notice of the Woodland Elves, the undisputed master of that realm, then she was foolish indeed.

As much as she loathed admitting it, she did need the Prince of Mirkwood to be her guide.

"Alright!" She hissed angrily. "We will travel together but you will not get in my way! I mean to go to Dol Guldur one way or another! I would prefer it without you but since that is obviously not meant to be, I will accept that I must have your assistance!"

"Such a gracious acceptance of my help," Legolas stared at her sarcastically. "Be still my beating heart, how can I refuse?"

"You are impossible!" She groaned in exasperation before storming out of the room, leaving Legolas with this intense feeling of dread that it was going to be a very long journey to Mirkwood.

*************

Too often these days, Aragorn found himself forced to remain behind while friends left the shores upon which he was standing to go their own way. Being present while Legolas readied to leave for Mirkwood should not have been as sad an event as when Frodo and Gandalf departed for the Undying Lands because there he and Legolas would meet again. However, because the Prince of Mirkwood had chosen to depart earlier than anticipated from the White City, Legolas was forced to put in motion the plan that he had been considering so deeply in secret. The private audience with Aragorn ensured that even if Legolas were to return to Minas Tirith, it would never be in quite the same way again.

The days when Legolas would be a constant at his side, eager to face whatever lay before them was over. As much as he was pleased that Legolas had found direction, he was sad that direction would lead him further away from the way things had been with them. Aragorn did not berate Legolas for his decision because the elf could see that the world was evolving around him and if he was not yet ready to leave for the Undying Lands then it was necessary that he changed with it. Frodo had realized first that his life would never again be the same after the One Ring and had taken appropriate steps to change his course, hopefully finding some happiness after so terrible an ordeal.

Why should not Legolas desire the same?

"This is far sooner then I would have liked," Aragorn sighed, his heart heavy as he stood before Legolas at the edge of the river where the boat that the Prince and Melia would use for their journey down the Anduin was moored and waiting.

"The sooner I begin, the sooner I might be able to return," Legolas offered but it was hollow comfort for both of them. He could feel the shifting sand beneath them and knew that they were at a crossroads.

"Not in the same way," Aragorn swallowed thickly, emotion welling up inside of him. Legolas was his oldest and best friend. They had shared more than two beings could ever think to experience together and had ridden the turbulent waters of great events side by side, loyal and true.

"No," Legolas agreed with the same sadness. "Not in the same way."

The two men embraced warmly as brothers might do and knew that their friendship was perhaps even closer than blood. When they parted, both tried to hide the mist that appeared in their eyes. Legolas was glad that he had said his farewells to Eowyn and Faramir at the palace for he could not endure the heartache of any more tearful goodbyes.

Fortunately, Legolas knew what to expect when confronted with an abrasive dwarf like the Lord of the Glittering Caves. Gimli who stood beside Aragorn had seen him off many times before because as much as they were constant companions, they were also always going their separate ways to tend to other matters. Lately, Gimli had divided his time between the Glittering Caves and the construction of the mithrail gates in the White City. This departure was only the latest in a long line of partings they had made of late.

"I wish that you could come with me on this journey, Gimli," Legolas replied as he looked upon his friends. They had traveled together constantly during the years following the War of the Ring and it would be odd to look over his shoulder and not see the dwarf there at his side. Gimli had his own life as Legolas did and they would always find time to go off on some foolish crusade together, of this Legolas had no doubt. Still, Legolas could not deny that having Gimli along on this occasion to act as intermediary between himself and Melia would have been useful indeed for he did not envision the lady’s disposition to be anything less than stormy at being forced to endure his presence during this journey.

"Surely you jest," Gimli retorted, raising a brow as he gazed past the elf at Melia who was speaking with Arwen. "Even I am not so foolish to be caught between the two of your for a journey of weeks." He teased, knowing Legolas’ mind well enough. "Helm’s Deep was less bloody then this is likely to be."

"You are a true friend," Legolas responded dryly.

Gimli patted the elf on the back and said in a more serious voice, "be careful, Legolas. You are still the only elf whose company I can endure."

"Why, thank you, Master Gimli," Arwen retorted sarcastically as she and Melia joined their gathering. "I am glad that my grandmother is not present to hear that."

As Gimli stammered to respond, Arwen turned to Legolas and embraced him warmly, grateful that he was accompanying Melia on her quest but also feeling guilty for hastening him on his way so soon. It was obvious that they needed more time then this to prepare for Legolas leaving them but she supposed no amount of time would make this farewell any less difficult.

"Safe journey, Greenleaf," she smiled at him warmly and he kissed her forehead.

"Take care of yourself and your babe, Evenstar," he replied with just as much sentiment. "I hope to see you both when I return."

Melia felt her heart sink with guilt as she watched the sad farewells being traded by Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli and Arwen. The sorrow etched upon his handsome face as he prepared to leave his friends disturbed Melia greatly because it was for her that he was departing so soon. It was obvious that none of them wanted him to leave and she wished that he were not so insistent on accompanying her on this journey because it was so uncertain when he would see them again.

"Be safe Melia," Aragorn’s voice brought Melia’s thoughts away from her regrets. "Dol Guldur is a dangerous place, even if it is claimed to be empty."

Although he did not know her well, Aragorn did not forget the invaluable aid she had provided Arwen during the confrontation with Glaurung. For that alone, she would always have his good wishes.

"I will," she replied grateful for his consideration and his advice. "I will rely on the Prince to see me out of trouble."

"He is good for that,’ Aragorn grinned, sensing more than a little mischief in her tone.

"Try not to kill him," Gimli added with an equally mischievous smile following the embrace he received from Melia. "Though sometimes that princely arrogance might warrant it."

"I am perfectly aware of that," Melia gave the dwarf a wink, more than accustomed to Legolas as a traveling companion after their last journey together. "However I will try to heed your advice."

Gimli laughed and allowed Melia a moment alone with Arwen as the hour of their parting was finally upon them. The Ranger and the Queen exchanged a long stare before Melia broke the silence between them.

"I know you did what you thought was best so I do not feel anger towards you. You thought of my safety and no one has done that for a very long time. Thank you." Melia spoke with sincere appreciation for her efforts.

"I hope you find what you seek, Melia," Arwen’s eyes softened with emotion and took Melia’s hand in hers with affection. "But if you do not find it, I hope you will try to find happiness at least."

"I will try to do both," Melia replied, embracing the queen once more. "You are good friend, Queen of Gondor," she whispered. "I will be back soon enough for Lomelindi is here and I wish to see you and your son when he arrives."

"You will always be welcome," Arwen answered and with that watched with the rest of the company as Melia and Legolas began their journey towards Dol Guldur.

************

Neither had said a great deal to each other as the boat took them down the Anduin and away from the White City. Melia seemed deep in thought and had made no attempt to tell Legolas why they were journeying to Dol Guldur although he was burning with curiosity as to why she was so determined to visit that terrible place. This was much in part due to his realization that despite his feelings for the Ranger, he knew next to nothing about her past other than what she had deigned to impart to him. While he appreciated her need for privacy, he wanted to help her because the fear in her eyes he saw was nothing to dismiss lightly. Unfortunately, they had not reached a point where she could reveal that secret to him yet.

"Am I to assume that you intend to remain silent throughout our entire journey to Dol Guldur?" Legolas asked an hour after they had left Minas Tirith behind them.

Melia stiffened, aware that she was probably being a little unfair, not to mention childish in her behavior. Her silence was akin to a tantrum thrown by a willful child and she knew that he was here because he worried about her welfare and because Arwen had asked him. Letting out a heavy sigh that not only dispelled her annoyance at having his company thrust upon her but also her lingering resistance to his presence, she decided if this must be then she ought to at least try and make the best of it.

"No, of course not," she said softening her manner towards him considerably.

Legolas was genuinely surprised to hear her speak, he had anticipated her silence to last at least another few hours before she finally relented. Three thousand years had taught him one thing about the female gender and that was speech was not something they could be deprived of for very long.

"Will wonders never cease," he remarked, casting a glance over his shoulder at her and revealing a little smile as he paused in his rowing.

"Do not make me regret speaking to you, elf," Melia warned, her brow crooking up in mock anger.

"I doubt you would have been able to resist my charming conversation for very long," he smirked, glad that things were back to normal between them. Well, as normal as it could be between them, Legolas supposed.

Melia rolled her eyes but she too was pleased that they were on more familiar ground. "If I can resist Uruk Hai, I can resist you." She said sweetly.

"You never did tell how you devised your escape from their hands at Nargothrond," Legolas reminded, aware that she did not like discussing it since she had evaded the question every time he had broached the subject with her.

"It is not important," Melia grumbled, not about to tell him that her great plan for escaping the Uruk Hai Captain that she and Eowyn had been given to in Nargothrond was a false seduction designed to put him off his guard. She considered herself exceedingly fortunate that the gamble had worked even though at the time she had been terrified out of her wits. Melia was certain that was the only reason she had managed to go through with her plan; the horror of what would befall her and Eowyn if she had not succeeded.

"Oh come now," he balked at her attempt to deter him from finding out the truth. "It is a long journey to Dol Guldur, I must be entertained."

"If you want entertainment, you should have stayed in Minas Tirith," Melia retorted tautly. "I am not your court jester."

Legolas was not about to let the matter rest since her reluctance to tell him convinced the Prince that the tale must indeed be an interesting one. "It will pass the time," he insisted. "Besides, how awful could it be?"

"You have no idea," Melia muttered under her breath.

"I promise you," he replied, looking over his shoulder again so that she would see that he was completely sincere with what he was about to say. "Nay, I give you my word, as a Prince of Mirkwood that I will not breathe a word of it to anyone if you tell me."

Melia let out a groan, wishing that she could throttle him about the ears except if she did so, it would most likely capsize the boat and that was probably not the best thing to occur in the middle of the Anduin. The Prince of Mirkwood did not give his word lightly and it was not something to be refused when offered so earnestly. As much as they enjoyed trading insults, she knew it would be a real offence if she did not take him at his word. Even if he was not offended, which she very much doubted, Melia could foresee being asked this same question continuously throughout their entire journey. Since killing him was out of the question (because it was wrong, she reminded herself), Melia supposed it would not be so terrible to tell him the truth.

"Why is it?" Melia asked no one in particular, exasperation oozing from every word, "that of all the elves in Middle Earth that I could possibly find as a travelling companion, I have to be with the one who is the most infuriating?"

"Luck?" Legolas quipped, with a grin on his face she could not see because he was faced front and knew it would earn him a slap of frustration had she seen it.

"Oh alright!" She exclaimed, conceding defeat. "I will tell you only to satisfy your curiosity and to keep you from driving me to distraction by your insistence to know."

"Finally," he returned with just as much passion. "You have my undivided attention. How did you manage to free yourself from a room full of Uruk Hai? I have faced them in battle, that you escaped unscathed while in their power, astonishes me."

"Well it is not that difficult to escape when one is a woman," she replied, annoyed enough by him that the words came easily. "All I had to do was promise him the fruits of human pleasure and he was so eager to be alone with me that he acceded to my request to send his men away. Once alone, I caught him in a vulnerable position and freed myself."

She noticed he had stopped rowing and had turned around so that he could meet her gaze. "Pray tell what do you call a vulnerable position?"

At first it did not register upon her what he was alluding do to until she saw the dark frown upon his face.

"Not that vulnerable!" she slapped him on the arm, her jaw dropping open in outrage. "Do you think me capable of bedding a Uruk Hai! Even to escape! Are you completely without wits? What do you take me for?’

"I was mistaken!" Legolas started to recant. "You said vulnerable position! What was I supposed to think?"

"I meant vulnerable as in alone with me, distracted by the thought of pleasure with a human female, not the actual ‘pleasure’! You know, this is why I did not wish to answer this question or wish it known that I escaped in that manner! Small minds like yours instantly think the worst!" She ranted on furiously.

"I am sorry!" He apologized quickly though unable to keep the smirk from crossing his face. Despite himself, he could not help feeling some measure of pity for the poor deluded Uruk Hai who had actually believed a woman like Melia would lend herself to seducing him for any reason. "I must confess it is a very different way of securing your release."

"You think so?" Melia retorted. "I was never so terrified in my entire life. If I had failed in freeing myself, the consequences…" she shuddered visibly at what she could not say and he was able to guess well enough to spare her that indignity.

"Well you were fortunate indeed that it went as well as it did," Legolas replied. "However, I would prefer it if in the event that we do encounter any sort of peril that you do not resort to that same plan to secure our freedom." He concluded that request with a wide grin before turning his back upon her to resume rowing.

Melia glared at him and wondered if it was entirely a bad thing if she were to cast him overboard. 

************

They traveled for the entire day, until the sun began to set in the western horizon, turning the blue sky into a vibrant shade of amber for a time. It would not be long before the blanket of stars were upon them and with night descending, Legolas and Melia decided that they would pull to shore in order to rest. Their limbs were aching from cramped confinement in the narrow boat for hours on end and the Ranger in particular, needed to feel the land beneath her feet. Of course, she would not admit such weakness to Legolas and he wondered what it was about him that inspired her to hide her vulnerabilities with such determination?

They made camp along the Eastern Shore which was supposedly devoid of Orc activity now that Sauron and the evil of Mordor were destroyed. Though there were reputed to be Orcs in Dagorland, it was three days journey from the banks of the Anduin to their vile sanctuary. But still Legolas had insisted that they camp near their boats should trouble arise and a hasty departure was needed. Melia agreed with his reasoning, aware of the dangers as well as he. For though she did not know this land as well as the Prince, she knew Orcs and knew that any precaution taken was a wise one when dealing with such foul creatures.

Legolas was glad to see the fire when he returned to their encampment, having scouted the area to ensure that all was safe. Although elves were able to endure the harshness of weather far better than men, he was still chilled, for the night was cold indeed. It also provoked a growl in his belly when he took a deep breath and scented the aroma of roasting fish. He had not asked her to cook because he assumed that expecting her to do so simply because she was a woman would have fired her contempt and he did not wish to seem chauvinistic. He had sense enough to know that Melia considered herself a warrior. The people of Far Harad seemed to define their worth by their ability to wage battle and if the restrictions placed on women were as bad as she claimed, then he would be poorly behaved indeed to expect her to do womanly duties because of her gender.

That did not mean he could not amuse himself.

"Now there is a sight to put order to my world," he remarked playfully when he returned to camp and saw her preparing their meal.

"What?" Melia mused, more focused on the sprinkling of a little spice over the meal to give it flavor than giving Legolas her full attention.

"Seeing you waiting for me with a meal cooked," Legolas smiled at her teasingly.

"Do not get too accustomed to it," Melia replied giving him a look. "Tomorrow it will be your turn and I hope your culinary skills extend to more than just carrying lembas in great quantities."

"Lady," he said with proud dignity as he sat down next to her. "The prince of Mirkwood does not cook."

"Then the Prince of Mirkwood is going to go hungry,"

"You are a hard woman," he pointed out as she removed the fish from its skewer over the fire.

"You have no idea," she arched one brow playfully as he handed him his meal on a plate. "Be careful it is hot."

"Thank you," he said graciously and they both relaxed away from the flames so that they could dine in comfort.

"You saw nothing out there?" Melia asked as they ate.

This part of Middle earth was unfamiliar to her. During her searches for her mother, she had mostly explored the north of the Anduin, in the lands nearest to Angmar. She did not wish to reveal to him that she was a little anxious because of this unfamiliarity since as a Ranger, her strength lay in knowing the land intimately and being able to anticipate all its dangers.

"No," he shook his head in answer. "It is relatively safe although these days it is difficult to say. Before Sauron was destroyed, we knew for certain the places of his minion’s greatest power. However, since he is no more, they are scattered and hiding. Thus I do not know if we are any more protected than if we had camped on the Western Shore."

"They are finding new hiding places in lands that are not common for them to dwell," Melia nodded in understanding, having encountering a little of the same problem in Angmar.

The pattern of these foul creatures were no longer a constant now that they were leaderless and without direction. Their power in Middle earth was done but like the wounded animal about to die, they were perhaps more dangerous in their final hour then they had ever been when they were in strength because of their unpredictability.

"Fortunately, if danger nears, I should be able to sense it before it arrives," Legolas offered.

"That is good to know," Melia replied. "I do not wish to awaken with one of their poisoned blades to my throat."

"Fear not, I shall protect you from harm," he said bravely and full of levity.

"On the contrary, I shall protect you," Melia did not look up from her plate when she responded just as smoothly. "If they mean to harm us, I will simply have to promise to show them the limits of human pleasure in order to secure our freedom."

Legolas threw her a sharp look and retorted tersely, "do not even joke about such things." He shuddered in disgust.

"Who was joking?" She returned his gaze with a look of complete innocence.

"I would kill anything that attempted to take advantage of you in that way. After all, I have staked a claim upon you, if you show anyone human pleasure it will be me." His blue eyes gleamed with suggestion.

Melia actually laughed out loud, "only in your dreams."

"Not in yours too?" He gasped in mock hurt. "I thought that I would be your eternal obsession."

"You are my eternal consternation that is for certain," she drawled, enjoying their bantering as much as he did.

Suddenly, the boyish smile melted from his face and his blue eyes became hard like flint. His gaze shifted past her and he set down his meal and stood up immediately, his expression one of grave concern. Melia did not know him well enough to read all his moods with any clarity but she knew that like all elves, they had a good sense of danger approaching and thus, she too reached for her own weapon before rising up to take her place at his side.

"What is it?" She asked quietly.

"Something draws near," he replied, unslinging his bow from his shoulder and beginning to arm it in readiness to fire.

"Can you tell what?" Her eyes swept the wood before them but she saw nothing.

"I am not certain," he answered but she noticed that he had loaded two arrows into his bow instead of one.

"I do not hear anything," she remarked and knew that she was talking too much.

Legolas frowned and forced her silence with a sharp look. His elven hearing could sense the approach of two, their heavy feet pressing into the soft ground as they neared. He was impressed by their ability to move so silently for the space between each footstep indicated that the enemies were large in stature and yet it required the heightened sense of the fair folk to detect their approach. He doubted that a human would have heard them until it was too late. He had a fair idea of what was coming after them because he had heard rumors regarding the dark threats that lingered in some of the lands closest to Mordor following the destruction of Sauron.

"Take this," he ordered as he handed to her the long dagger he wore on his back just as they began to hear leaves parting too close for comfort.

"I have my own weapon," She insisted, wondering why he required her to use a dagger instead of her crossbow.

"Your bolts will not penetrate their hides," he said hastily. The ground started to quake now. "That requires weapons that are elven blessed, like this dagger and my arrows." Legolas also carried with him on his back in elven fashion, his long blade, but he hoped the arrows would ensure it would not come to that.

"What are they?" She demanded, her heart starting to pound because they were terribly close now, enough to hear everything being said.

He looked at her briefly and answered, "Olog Hai."

Melia looked at him sharply but had little time to argue because the creatures chose that moment to launch themselves through the shrubbery into the light of the campfire. She had never seen the Olag Hai in the flesh before, but she knew of them and their fearsome natures. Not quite as big as cave trolls, they were twice the size of normal men and craved human flesh for their meals. Their skins were scales of thick armor and they carried hammers and clutching claws, while bearing sharp fangs that would rip the flesh from bones if allowed the opportunity to use them. Since Sauron’s destruction, the few remaining creatures that had not died with him wandered the hills aimlessly, scavenging food where they could.

There were two and Legolas let both arrows fly when they showed themselves. The shafts flew true and straight through the night, each embedding themselves into both their targets. The Olog Hai cried out in outrage and closed the distance between themselves and the archer. Legolas stood his ground as they approached, continuously firing arrow after arrow that met their mark with shocking accuracy. One of the Olog Hai flung their great hammers at the Prince and only then did he move, avoiding it effortlessly as they charged him. Melia had not earned their notice because she had not shot her crossbows at them. She allowed them to run past her before going to the fire where she picked up a burning log and threw it against their backs, hoping to draw one away so the elf only need to deal with the other alone.

At the time, the ploy had seemed like a good idea until the thing turned its yellow eyes upon her and Melia wondered what the hell she had been thinking, provoking a creature that she had never before in her life fought. She reminded herself that this was no different than fighting a cold drake or a dragon of Angband before realizing that she had damn near died on both those occasions. Unfortunately, there was little time to debate the point because the beast was coming straight for her. She ducked as he swung his hammer, the wide arch of its weight creating a whirl of sound before crashing on the ground where she had stood. Skidding to her knees, she swung the blade Legolas had given her and felt its edge sink into the Olog Hai’s shin. The beast screamed in pain and swatted her away like a fly.

"Melia!" She heard Legolas shout in her ear just before she landed hard. For a few seconds, she was dazed but that did not last terribly long because when she opened her eyes, she saw that a clawed spike was coming towards her. She rolled over as it dug into the earth, sitting up just in time to see the Prince shoot an arrow that impaled the Olog Hai intending to kill her in the back. The creature arched in fury, trying to extract the painful object from his body.

In his efforts to save her, she saw Legolas distracting himself enough to allow the beast he had been battling, an opening to attack.

"LEGOLAS! BEHIND YOU!" She screamed in horror as the Olog Hai used its shield and slammed into the Prince.

Legolas dropped to his knees in pain and Melia watched in fear as the Olog Hai prepared to finish the battle. Without thinking until it was done, she flung the dagger he had given her through the air, hoping her aim was better than it was. Legolas hearing her cry had somehow rolled beyond the path of the beast’s weapon, extracting the sword he had yet to use. As Melia’s blade struck the Olog Hai in the chest, the foul creature screamed in pain. Taking advantage of its agony, Legolas slash the broadsword in a wide arch. Far sharper than any ever crafted by men, the elven blade tore through flesh and organs despite the thick hide that contained them. Melia flinched as she saw the spray of blood.

The Olog Hai bellowed in agony but the Prince was far from done. The second creature was still occupied with trying to remove the arrow in its back and Melia watched as Legolas walked towards it purposefully, eyes hard with intent, his blade still dripping with black blood. She stood by and watched because she was unarmed and her crossbow would do little to aid him. Besides, Legolas did not appear to need her aid. It was odd how fair he looked even in battle and when one saw him in a palace, it was difficult to believe that this handsome prince was such a cold, battle hardened warrior. When she saw him swing at the Olog Hai in one wide, powerful arc, she could very well believe that he had fought at Helm’s Deep, Pelagir and Pelennor Fields and survived.

The Olog Hai’s head came away from its body, its head spinning in mid air before landing in the fire and trailing embers as it rolled out of it again. Melia turned away from the grisly scene because no matter how much she thought she was strong enough to stomach all manner of atrocities, carnage still had the power to make her flinch. Legolas let out a deep breath when the body of the Olog Hai fell to the ground heavily, forcing leaves and dirt to become displaced when it landed. The elf seemed to falter a little and he dropped to his knees again, his sword falling from his hand.

Melia hobbled to him, not realizing until now that her hard landing had twisted her ankle badly and it ached as she tried to walk. She knew that she was probably sporting a large bruise on the side of her face but it seemed incidental to the fact that his face had contorted into a grimace of pain. She had seen how hard the Olog Hai had struck him with the shield and knew that it was possible that he had broken ribs after incurring such a blow. His manner certainly indicated it.

"You’re hurt," she lowered herself next to him.

"Not badly," he lied through the pain.

"Fool!" she snapped at him. "You are in agony! I see can see it in that face of yours. Now move your arm and let me look."

Legolas reluctantly allowed her hands to pull open his tunic and he hissed as the cold night air touched his sensitive skin. He knew he was not severely injured but he was in pain. The Olog Hai shield was made to break bones, even elven ones and bearing the brunt of it had certainly earned him a few breaks. However, at the time, he could only think of the monster’s other companion bearing down on Melia and all rational thought fled his mind as he attempted to save her. The idea of protecting his life mattered little in the face of hers being lost. Three thousand years was long enough for him to experience life’s fullest pleasures but she was a child in comparison to him and he could not endure the thought that hers might end before it had even began.

Or more correctly, before they had even begun.

"You have broken something," Melia stated as she examined his side and saw the discoloration against his pale skin. She had never seen an elf so intimately before and had to marvel at the softness of their skin to the touch. Her fingertips grazed the swelling along his side and knew that he needed at least a day of rest before they could resume their journey for Dol Guldur again. Melia should have been annoyed by this delay but she was not. She knew exactly why he had allowed himself to be harmed this way and it was because of her.

He had been trying to protect her.

"I will manage," he replied bravely.

"You will manage nothing if you do not rest," she lowered the tunic down once more. "We will now move camp a little further downstream," she insisted. "No doubt the scent of blood will bring wolves and other predators to us."

"Perhaps I should have let you promise them the fruits of human pleasure after all," he grimaced when he tried to move.

Melia laughed softly and smiled at him warmly, taking his arm in hers to help him up. "Perhaps you should have. You would have been better for it."

"Well never let it be said that the Prince of Mirkwood does not suffer for a lady’s virtue," Legolas grunted as Melia helped him to his feet.

"I am not a lady," Melia reminded as she led him toward the boat whose spine was pressed into the shale embankment. "I am a Ranger."

"You are a Ranger no doubt of that," Legolas agreed, wondering why she found it so necessary to hide behind the word. "But you are also a lady."

"Well this lady will have you remain here," she said firmly as she lowered him to the ground next to the boat. "Remain still please, while I gather our things?"

"I did not know that you cared so much," Legolas teased, needing to feel less ineffectual than he already did by placing them on familiar ground again, instead of this wholly unacceptable situation where she needed to tend to him like a little boy.

"I could not care at all," she said haughtily but wore a smile with just as much play as his. "But I need you to guide me to Dol Guldur so I should at least ensure that you are well enough to make the journey."

"And here I thought I was melting your heart," he winked at her, though it was difficult to remain quite so charming when the pain in his side ached so much. "Have I not suffered enough to prove myself?"

"Just stay where you are," she ordered with more than a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice as she walked back to the campfire. "I shall be back soon."

Legolas watched her go and found that in his pain, he tended to be wicked and called out of after her. "No farewell kiss?"

Melia’s response was a string of words that made Legolas raised his brow in surprise.

Well she certainly knew how to curse like a Ranger.

Chapter Three:
A Night in Lorien

Legolas watched her sleep and knew that she did not dream well.

For the second night of their journey, he turned his gaze upon her, wondering if she would experience a more restful repose then the night before.

***********

Following their encounter with the Olog Hai, Melia had directed them further down river and upon finding a safe place to camp had moored their vessel in order to tend to his wounds. She was in no way the healer that Aragorn was but she knew enough to relieve some of the pain he had endured battling the foul creatures. Once she had ensured that he was comfortable for the night and he could not deny enjoying it immensely when she fussed over him, she took some rest herself.

He had awoken to the scraping friction of fabric against the ground. By nature, elves did not require sleep in the manner of men and were known to be able to direct their minds to a kind of sleep while their bodies continued to function as if they were awake. However, in light of his injuries, Legolas had allowed himself to indulge in the satisfaction of complete slumber and had dozed off once they had settled into a new encampment.

The sound that brought him out of this humanlike repose had a certain urgency to it that forced his unconscious mind to seek it out. It did not take him long to discern, upon awakening, that it had come from Melia who seemed to be tossing restlessly under her blanket. She rolled onto her side towards him when a gleam of moonlight illuminated her face and he saw that there was real anxiety in her expression. Whatever she was witnessing in her dreams was clearly disturbing and he debated whether or not he should intrude upon her slumber by awaking her from its unpleasantness.

Fortunately, he had only a brief moment to debate this when suddenly she sat upright with a small gasp. For a few seconds, she sat in place, panting hard as her mind came to grips that she was free of the torture that had left her in such a state and unaware that he was awake and watching. If things between them were the way he desired, Legolas would have gone to her and offer his shoulder in comfort but he knew that they were far from that point in their relationship, if there even was one for that matter to make so intimate a gesture. It alarmed him to see this fear she felt because its power was strong enough for him to feel in his own heart. What did she see in her dreams that frightened her so much? She was not a woman who scared easily and yet as he watched her, wide eyed and almost on the verge of tears, he wished she would confide in him so that he could help her.

"Melia," Legolas called out urgently. "Are you alright?"

Melia jumped at the sound of his voice and she stared at him for a moment as she realised that he had seen everything and quickly, she wiped the tears that glistened in her eyes. It broke his heart to see the tears he could not wipe away. However, his inability to comfort her was not as worrying as what she actually saw in her nightmare that could reduce one of the strongest women he had ever encountered in his life to this. For an instant, he saw beneath the veneer of the Ranger, past all the insecurities and inhibitions to the woman. The woman who felt more profoundly than she would have anyone believe.

"Yes," she nodded slowly, wishing he had not seen what he had and felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment at being caught in such a vulnerable state. "I am fine."

"You do not sound it," he replied, genuinely concerned. "That must have been a terrible nightmare."

"It is nothing that I have not dealt with before," she whispered softly not intending to be heard but his elven senses were too sharp for that.

"Do you often have such fearful dreams?" He asked gently, guessing accurately that she would be reluctant to speak of them.

"Of course not," she shrugged and he could tell immediately that she was lying. "Everyone has nightmares. Do elves not have such dreams?"

"Yes, we do," Legolas nodded, recalling a few terrors in the dark that had awakened him the way she had a short time ago. He wondered if perhaps he could help her by displaying some empathy of her situation.

"There are times when I dream of the balrog that we encountered in Moria," he confessed.

It was true. He did dream of the balrog that had pursued them through Moria and met its untimely demise at the hands of Gandalf at Khazadum.

"Balrog?" Melia looked at him, her eyes round with wonder.

"During the quest to destroy the Ring," Legolas explained, seeing he had her attention. "The Fellowship journeyed through the Mines of Moria and found that the dwarf city had been overwhelmed by a balrog they had awakened in the depths of the earth. The creature soon destroyed them all with the aid of goblins and we were to face its full wrath when we attempted to cross the bridge at Khazadum. If not for Gandalf, we would have shared the dwarves fate."

Legolas’ voice became soft as his mind drifted back to days when their purpose had been so clear and the enemy well defined. There was something inviting about knowing one’s course with such absolute certainty that nothing else seemed to matter and all he had to concern himself with was the fate of the other members of the Fellowship. Until they had scattered to the winds to follow their own destines, Legolas had no idea how dearly he missed the time when he was one of the nine walkers. The Fellowship of the Ring was the dying gasp in the final age of heroes and he was certain that once they was gone from this world, they would take with them a time of wonder and glory that would never be again.

Melia saw the sadness in his eyes and felt her heart grow heavy for him. It made her own nightmare seem less terrible hearing him speak. "This was when it was thought that Gandalf was dead?" She asked having heard something of the tale during her quest with Arwen and Eowyn.

"He placed himself before the beast to allow our escape," Legolas replied, remembering the crushing blow to all their hearts as they watched the balrog’s fiery lash take Gandalf over the edge of the crumbling bridge. Later on they would find out that he had been reborn in a manner of speaking but until then, they were all struck with a grief as real as any that might be suffered when a loved one was taken from them forever. Unfortunately, it was only a prelude to even greater loss during that journey.

"We thought we would die for sorrow of his death but we had no idea it was but the first. We did not know that we would soon lose Boromir too. He died bravely, riddled with arrows and I am told it was not until the last, did he finally succumb to the inevitable and stopped fighting." Legolas spoke softly, his eyes staring at the stars as he spoke reverently about the man of Gondor.

"I like to think my father met a similar end," she offered, understanding his grief all too well in the loss of a comrade and a fellow warrior. "The last I saw of him was a month before I learnt of his death. He had ridden away from our tribe, leading our warriors on yet another battle. He had fought so many in my life that I had never considered he would not return. One becomes complacent with repetition I think, but this time he met his fate. I suspect he probably fought as valiantly as your Boromir though I think that when it came, he was happy to meet death."

Neither spoke for a few minutes as they thought about the loved ones gone from this world and the sadness they shared in silence was nonetheless strengthening the bond between them. Since her father had died, she had shared nothing about him to anyone because no one had cared enough to ask. After being alone for so long, it was difficult to reach into one’s soul and find again the things buried so deeply. She had not spoken to anyone about her father since his death and the years of loneliness that followed after it had afforded little opportunity to confide in anyone at how much she truly missed him.

"How are you feeling?" She asked in hopes of dispelling the silence between them.

"As if I have battled Olog Hai," he retorted easing back into his sleeping place once more in order to draw slumber upon him again.

"We will rest tomorrow," she spoke gently but there was force enough in her words to indicate that she would broke no argument on this matter.

"I am hardly in the position to argue," he replied as he saw her nestle into her bedroll as well.

"Well," Melia said with a little smile as she closed her eyes to sleep, "perhaps there is some use for the Olog Hai after all."

***********

She was still tossing and turning in her bed, the demons plaguing her refusing to release their torment of her slumber. Legolas rose from his sleeping place and crossed the circle of amber light between them. Stretching out next to her, he brushed his hand against her dark hair and began to sing an elven song the mother he remembered so vaguely except for her voice, used to sing to him as a child. He continued to sing softly into her ear as he stroked the strands of jet against his palm and drew a little smile across his face when he saw that she had stopped her restless tossing and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

***********

Melia appeared to remember nothing of his efforts on her behalf the next morning although she was in possession of a curiously sunny mood, claiming that it was due to the restful nights sleep she had been afforded. The day of rest had aided Legolas’ recovery from his wounds considerably and though he still ached, he was well enough for them to resume their journey. In truth, he had no wish to linger on the Eastern or the Western shore indefinitely. After battling the Olog Hai savages, Legolas did not wish to see what other remnants of Sauron’s army they might encounter on the banks of the Anduin and was eager to continue their journey down the river.

Almost five days after Legolas had faced the Olog Hai; the Prince of Mirkwood and the Ranger found themselves at the edge of East Lorien.

Since the fall of Sauron and the destruction of Dol Guldur, the great forest of Mirkwood, now renamed Eryn Lasgalen in the elvish tongue, had been divided by the elves of Lothlorien and Woodland Realm. The northern part of Mirkwood was the realm of his father; King Thranduil while recently, Celeborn the former Lord of Lothlorien had taken up residence in the southern lands of the great wood, which also included Dol Guldur. Celeborn’s kingdom was new and Legolas knew that his father had been neighborly enough to lend the Lord of Lorien some of his elves to boost Celeborn’s guard.

Upon entering the wood of East Lorien, Legolas could feel his spirits rising as he took a deep breath of the forest scent because its effect upon him was like a spark igniting within cold embers of his heart. He felt light as a feather as the home that he had known all his life for three millennia began singing its siren song straight into his soul. For a moment, he almost forgot that he had come home with a purpose that would most likely see him severe all ties with Mirkwood because it was like he was boy again, thrilling in the simple joy of who he was and being happily content by that alone.

Melia did nothing to dampen his mood because she was rather amused by his demeanor once they breached the trees of Mirkwood and wandered into its forested heart. It was difficult not to be swept up by the euphoria he felt in returning to his native lands and it surprised her how much she enjoyed seeing him happy. Legolas had not lied when he claimed he knew Mirkwood intimately, for he did. He seemed to be familiar with every tree, every path, where there might be danger and which way was safest to travel. Melia supposed she could have found her way through this maze had she attempted this journey alone but seeing the complexity of Mirkwood’s forests, she decided that choosing to travel with him had been a wise decision.

It was with a sudden start that Melia realised that enjoying his company so much, she had forgotten why she was going to Dol Guldur.

"How long until we reach Dol Guldur?" Melia asked shortly as they continued through the woods.

"Two days from here," Legolas replied, noticing that her manner was devoid of the enjoyment he had witnessed since they had entered Mirkwood. He wondered what it was that had caused this sudden shift and wished he could be assured of an answer instead of a sharp rebuke if he dared to ask. "We have yet to reach Lorien."

"Must we go there?" She asked with a little more sharpness than she had intended.

She knew it was wrong to be so abrasive with him but she could not help feeling a little resentment at his being able to make her forget her goal. For so long had she searched for her mother, driven when most would have faltered and forsaken the search in frustration. Now that she was in reach of an answer, she was allowing herself to be distracted by an elf of all things! The absurdity of it was beyond her ability to describe. What fool chose to become lost in the eyes of an elf? There was no future with the First Born, nothing but years where he remained the same while her body disintegrated before his eyes. It was folly!

And yet each moment, she lingered with him, she found herself pulled towards a catastrophe she was powerless to avoid because her heart had betrayed her.

"This is the realm of Lorien," Legolas stared at her, unable to understand why her mood had become so dark. They had been together for almost a week and in that time their arguments though well frequent were laced with good humor and gentle mischief, not this cold edge that he could feel piercing his skin. "We have been travelling within it for more than a day, we must pay our respects for our passage."

"I suppose," she muttered sourly. "I have delayed enough in my journey, I wish only to get to Dol Guldur so that I can have my answers."

"What answers would those be?" He demanded. Until now he had not asked why she was so determined to reach that misbegotten place because he respected her need for privacy. However, her manner had inspired his own wrath and it frothed to the surface when she spoke so heartlessly to him.

"I told you," she paused in her step and stared at him. "That is none of your concern."

"Lady," Legolas started to say and then paused as he restrained his anger from overwhelming him. "I told you before, your presence in this wood is my concern and if you desire passage through here, you will observe the proper customs!"

"I am not an elf," she barked. "I do not have to observe anything!" With that she stormed past him.

"Melia!" Legolas called after her.

However, Melia was not listening and in his anger he had failed to notice that something about them had change though he sensed it was not danger. It did not take Legolas long before he discerned what it was and he hastened his pace to catch up to her because he knew they were no longer alone.

Melia ignored him, having every intention of continuing doing so until she reached Dol Guldur if possible. However, she had taken little more than a few steps away from him when suddenly, stepping out of the trees like phantoms in the dark were an entire contingent of elven warriors. As a Ranger, she knew how to move stealthily but even she was startled by how flawlessly they stepped out of their hiding places, as if they had torn through the fabric of the forest and simply slipped through. She found herself surrounded. The leader, a haughty looking blond elf that was a little more brutish in his features then Legolas, stared at her as if she was something of an oddity.

"I am surprised at you Legolas," the elf said as Legolas hurried next to her. "You are now travelling with barbarians?"

Melia stiffened and immediately retorted, "Better a barbarian than an elf who hides in the trees like a fawn."

Legolas stifled a smile as he saw Haldir’s expression tighten in anger at her insult. "Haldir, be still. The lady is with me." He said coolly.

"Lady?" Haldir’s brow rose as he regarded Melia with undisguised contempt. "She hardly looks like a lady to me." His eyes traveled up and down her form. "In those clothes, I would say she looks like a man."

"At least one of us does," Melia responded icily and immediately elicited a snigger throughout the company of elves present.

"Melia," Legolas gave her a look that silenced her further from any such remarks, though he enjoyed immensely the dark expression that marred Haldir’s usually smug countenance. "The lady is a Ranger and we are travelling companions."

"Really?" Haldir turned his eyes upon her and seemed to study her in a new light. A little smile curled his lips and at first Melia did not understand why he looked at her that way. The other elves too seemed to study her with renewed intensity and Melia began to feel a little self-conscious by their scrutiny.

"I would have thought that you would have selected an elven woman to be your ‘travelling companion’ not a barbarian whose people were known allies of Mordor." Haldir concluded.

"Enough," Legolas said sharply and gripped Melia’s elbow to keep her from crossing the space between herself and Haldir and expressing physically her outrage at his inference that she was whore to the Prince of Mirkwood. "Haldir, the Ranger Melia is my guest and I will have you treat her accordingly. My father has allowed the Lord of Lothlorien a kingdom in this woods, I should not like to return home and inform Thranduil how rudely you treat his son’s companions."

Haldir stiffened and for a moment, Melia saw that both elves had a history and did not appear to like each other very much. For once, she decided that whatever the quarrel between the two, she would take Legolas’ side because Haldir was as arrogant as he was rude.

"Come then," Haldir turned on his heels, "you will pay your respects to Lord Celeborn."

************

Although nowhere as grand as Lothlorien, the newly formed kingdom of East Lorien had its own emerging beauty. When Galadriel had chosen to depart Lothlorien for the Undying Lands, her husband Lord Celeborn had decided to stay in Middle earth longer. Lothlorien had been abandoned with both going their separate ways. Galadriel had departed across the sea and Celeborn, along with Haldir and some of the elves that chose to remain with the former Lord of Lothlorien, found themselves a new home in Mirkwood.

In the months since Celeborn had decided to establish his new kingdom in these woods, his smiths had been hard at work fashioning a small city interlaced within the great forest. Though none of the natural beauty of Mirkwood had been disturbed, Legolas was impressed by the work that Celeborn had undertaken prior to Galadrie’s departure in anticipation of his permanent occupation here. Lorien reminded him of Imladris in a way, cradled within the bosom of the forest rather than within a valley. Legolas could not deny that despite the grandeur of the White City, it did not have the aged magnificence of an elven city.

As Haldir led he and Melia through the city, Legolas noted that she was silent as her eyes took in the sight of East Lorien and its resplendent beauty. Even Haldir’s insulting inference seemed to be forgotten as she stared in wonder at the settlement that seemed to have sprung forth from the land like the great trees within it. Legolas reminded himself that when the opportunity arose, he would clarify the nature of their relationship with Haldir. The last thing he wished was for the entire court of Lorien believing that she was his lover, particularly when she was not. She had behaved like a lady throughout their entire journey and he would not have her virtue slandered as Haldir was likely to do after she insulted him so properly.

It appeared that work on the city was not quite completed for they arrived when Celeborn was in discussion with his builders about the manner in which the palace’s construction was progressing. Though mostly built, it seemed as if there were some segments of it that required work still. However, though uncompleted, the home of Celeborn was still a breathtaking exercise in elven architecture with its construction twining around the great trees. Upon seeing their arrival, the Lord of Lorien immediately dismissed his workers and came down the steps to greet Haldir and the new arrivals.

"Prince of Mirkwood," Celeborn greeted politely, "it has been too long."

"Likewise Lord Celeborn," Legolas bowed in respect for this was Celeborn’s realm and he was a visitor. Melia, taking his lead, did the same, saying little and allowing him to address one of his own. Legolas had not seen Celeborn sine the War of the Ring for it was known that the Lord of Lothlorien did not desire travel as much as his wife and was more accustomed to concerning himself with the welfare of his elves and little else.

"We found him and this ‘Ranger’," Haldir announced making no effort to hide his dislike of Melia, "in the eastern quadrant."

"Ranger?" Celeborn turned to Melia who immediately wished she was anywhere but here for his gaze was just like Legolas', rather disconcerting and piercing to the skin.

"Yes," Legolas replied. "This is the Ranger Melia, she aided the Evenstar in her quest to battle Glaurung."

"I know of you," Celeborn nodded in recognition. "The Evenstar has made inquiries on your behalf from the Lady of the Wood before she departed for the Undying Lands. Is that why you are here? To see Dol Guldur?"

Legolas turned to Melia in question and wondered how much did Celeborn know that he, who was her travelling companion and guide, was not privy too. Melia met his eyes and knew what he was thinking. Her expression melted into some semblance of guilt but she was not about to offer any more revelation than what Celeborn had inadvertently disclosed.

"Yes," she swallowed thickly, aware of the Prince’s eyes upon her as she answered. She would have some explaining to do once this audience with Celeborn was done.

"There is nothing there," Haldir remarked before Celeborn could. "It has been completely destroyed."

"I have to go there nonetheless," she replied, directing her answer at Celeborn instead of him. "I have to see it for myself."

"Your mother will not be found there," the Lord of Lorien declared.

"Your mother?" Legolas found himself exclaiming in shock. "This has been a search for your mother?"

"I told you," Melia met his gaze. "That it was a personal matter."

"Melia, no human survived Dol Guldur," Legolas stared at her, feeling pain at the loss she was refusing to accept. "The Nazgul were very thorough."

Melia wished she did not have quite so much of an audience when answering him but she felt badly that Celeborn should know more than he, especially since he had guided her this far. He had earned the right to know. "My mother was not human, Legolas."\

"Not human?" His eyes widened in shock. "You do not look elvish."

"She is not elvish," Celeborn answered for her, seeing Melia’s difficulty in explaining. "She is a River daughter."

"Like Goldberry of the Old Wood?" Legolas asked.

"No, not like Goldberry," Celeborn replied. "Her father is mortal so like him, she is mortal."

Legolas felt disappointment course through him as that explanation because for a faint instant he had hoped that she was an immortal like himself. If she were a true River daughter then she would have a life span that would ensure that he would never lose her to death like he would lose Aragorn and all his mortal friends one day. However, her father being a mortal ended that hope. It did not change how he felt about Melia but it ensured that tragedy would be the outcome of any attachment between them.

"Why could you not tell me?" He looked at her.

"I did not want anyone to know," Melia answered softly, deciding that he deserved an honest answer. "For so long I was not even certain that the River Women were real. I did not want to appear foolish for believing so much in what could be a fantasy and perhaps I feared of what I would learn about myself in discovering what they truly were."

Legolas could understand her reluctance to reveal that truth in light of her explanation. Even to the elves, the River Women were something of a mystery. It was said that they were Maiar spirits beholding to Utumo, the Lord of the Sea but few had ever been seen by others and to many, they were believed to be myth, not fact. If she had made her parentage known, she would have brought undue attention to herself or worse yet, been the object of ridicule or disbelief. Melia was too solitary a person to suffer either indignity. Nonetheless, knowing the truth explained much as to why she was so determined to see Dol Guldur for herself.

"As you can see," Legolas turned away from her and faced Celeborn, still absorbing what he had just learnt. "We have some ways to travel before we arrive at our journey. We ask for passage through your realm."

"You shall have it tomorrow," Celeborn answered. "Tonight, you will rest here and enjoy our hospitality. I am eager to hear what progresses beyond Mirkwood in the Reunified Kingdoms."

It was an offer that could not be refused and in truth, Legolas had no wish to do so. Not only would it offend the Lord of Lorien but it was a long day and the comforts of a bed were not unwelcome when they had more travelling before them until their arrived at Dol Guldur. He had no idea what would happen once they reached that desolate place for he knew that there was nothing there to find. Legolas had been a part of the force that had annihilated Dol Guldur following Sauron’s fall and he had seen for himself that its dungeons were emptied during that destruction.

However, the Evenstar was right about one thing; Melia should not be alone when she arrived at Dol Guldur and found nothing.

**************

It became apparent after their arrival that Celeborn had not much opportunity to entertain guests since his arrival in Lorien for much pomp and ceremony went into the feast he ordered to commemorate their presence in his court. For the second time in as many weeks, Melia found herself needing more formal wear than the breeches she had become accustomed to wearing as a Ranger. However, this situation was even more nerve wracking than the gathering at Minas Tirith because there at least, friends surrounded her. In Lorien, the only person she knew was Legolas and all others knew of her was the fact that she was an Easterling.

Once again, Melia was forced to wear the same gown and felt self conscious that Legolas would know it when he saw her in it again. She supposed she could have accepted the offer of the elven maids to borrow one of their gowns but Melia preferred to wear something of her own, even if it was the only one she had. She gazed at herself in the mirror and was pleased by her decision to wear her hair loose for it seemed in keeping with elvish fashion. There had been some pretty white flowers in her room and she used one in her hair, deciding that was all the embellishment her dark locks needed.

Still, if it were possible, she would have been content to remain in her room all night for she did not relish emerging from its safety into the company of people she did not know. It had been too long since she was required to be in the presence of so many and Melia knew that much of her social skills had been eroded by years of living alone in the wilderness. In the wilds, there was no need of airs and graces, of being polite and diplomatic, there was only the understanding of where one was because more often then not, this was the skill that kept her alive.

Unfortunately, the knocking at her door ensured that there would be no escape from this ordeal and after sucking a deep breath to brace herself for the rest of the evening, Melia went to answer it.

She expected to find Legolas standing before her but instead it was Haldir waiting in the hall beyond her doorway. Melia immediately stiffened with distaste at his presence, recalling the insult he had offered her earlier at their first meeting. She wondered why Legolas was never about when he was needed, since she would have preferred his company to that of Haldir, whose arrogance seemed to know no bounds. The captain of Celeborn’s guard eyes widened by her appearance in the dress and Melia steeled herself for another biting remark at her expense.

"Lord Celeborn requests that I escort you to the hall," Haldir said stiffly although his eyes were stealing furtive looks over her. "He believes that I behaved harshly to you at our earlier meeting and should make suitable amends for my conduct." It was obvious that he was ordered rather than simply requested to make the gesture.

"Fine," Melia declared sweeping past him, deciding the only way to end this ordeal was to begin it as quickly as possible. "Let us be off then."

"I must confess," Haldir remarked as he fell into stride with her, "you do not look so much like a barbarian when you are properly attired. I can see the Prince’s attraction."

Melia stopped short and turned around to face him with smoldering fire in her eyes. "The Prince of Mirkwood and I are traveling companions," she glared at him. "Nothing more."

Haldir returned her fierce gaze just as intently, "That is a pity. You are in your way beautiful, for an Easterling." His hand reached for a strand of her hair, causing Melia to flinch slightly. However she did not retreat and held her ground.

"Come now," he replied doing the same, seeing her ambivalence at his touch. "We are not children. Surely you would have enjoyed the comforts of a warm body in your travels? You are a Ranger. There cannot be much opportunity to make attachments in your chosen vocation?"

His voice was no longer arrogant but husky and try as Melia might; she was affected by his closeness. She had paid little attention to Haldir physically during their first meeting because he had been so repulsive, however now that she had mind to notice, she decided he was handsome though the beauty of his face was different to that of Legolas.

"There are not," Melia said neutrally, aware of what uncharted territory he was steering her towards and wondered if he would dare make such assumptions about her sexuality if she were noble born instead of a mere Easterling. "I have taken lovers when I have met someone I liked enough."

"That is all I seek to offer you, a night of pleasure satisfying your needs and my curiosity. I have never had a woman of the Haradrim," his eyes filled with suggestion.

Melia smiled faintly. She should have been offended by his offer but she was not. If she were, she would have never consented to travel with Legolas alone. She was not a maiden untouched. She considered herself virtuous still even though she had known physical love and did not bind herself in marriage because of it. In the years since her departure from the Sunlands, she had known only two men intimately. One was a Ranger who had died at the hands of an orc raiding party; the other was a member of the Rohirrim.

She had not loved them but she had mourned their deaths.

"I thank you for your offer," Melia said politely, feeling less intimidated by him now that she knew what he was about. However, consenting to bed him was another issue entirely. As pleasing as Haldir might be to look at, she did not like him enough to share so intimate and exchange with him and she was certain that his entire reason for suddenly wanting her had to do with satisfying his curiosity for Easterling women. She was no one’s curiosity. "But I should have to decline."

"Because of the Prince?" Haldir returned automatically. His reaction was that of indifference to her decision. He would like to have bedded her but was not overly distressed that she had refused him. After all, if she did not oblige him, there were plenty of others who would.

"No," Melia answered perhaps a little more hastily than she should have. His eyes narrow in response as if he did not believe that she was quite as dispassionate to Legolas’ feelings as she would have him believe.

She paused a moment, gathering her thoughts before answering him, "I have no desire to bed an elf. It is dangerous."

"Only if you love him," Haldir retorted, giving her a hard stare.

Melia did not know how to answer that so she remained silent, for that was a matter she would discuss with no one, not even Haldir who had been so forward about other things. They resumed walking towards the hall, two antagonists side by side finding an odd sort of neutrality. This was the understanding reached by two who suddenly discovered that in their mutual dislike, they had more in common then expected.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are an exceedingly arrogant elf," Melia asked as they neared the entrance to the hall.

"A surprising number actually," Haldir gave her a sidelong glance as he answered. "I try not to heed their words."

"No wonder," she retorted and they both entered the hall together, chuckling softly.

*************

It disturbed the Prince of Mirkwood to see Melia in Haldir’s company when she entered the hall, even more so when she appeared to be laughing. It was such a far cry from the antagonism she had shown him earlier that Legolas bristled in annoyance to see Haldir showing her similar regard. As Legolas fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, waiting for Haldir to bring the lady to his side, he rebuked himself for allowing Celeborn to convince him that Haldir should escort Melia to the hall in order to make apologies for his earlier discourtesy. Legolas had seen no harm in it. After all, Haldir did deserve to show some contrition for his behavior. However, Legolas did not like the look the elven captain was giving the Ranger. It was more familiar than he would have liked.

The celebration was modest in comparison to some of the feasts that Legolas had the privilege to attend in his lifetime but the atmosphere was warm and entertaining. Celeborn was always an amiable host and though it was clear that he missed Lothlorien and Galadriel, Legolas was pleased to see that he would remain in Middle earth for some time before he chose to depart to the Undying Lands like the rest of their race. It was good to know that he was not the only elf in Middle earth whose plans did not include leaving behind all they knew for the sea. While he could feel its call like every elf, there was too much binding the Prince of Mirkwood to the mortals and their existence for him to leave just yet. Someday he would make that crossing but like Celeborn, he was simply not ready.

When she was brought to his side, Legolas noticed the buzz of speculation it caused among those at court. No doubt, there would be much gossip and rumor about what the Prince of Mirkwood was doing in the company of a mortal female, particularly an unattached female. He knew that for many years, especially in the court of Thranduil, there had been much speculation as to why he had not selected a wife. He was, after all, three millennia old no matter how young he might appear to others. However, Legolas had met no one he had truly wanted to bind himself too and the advantage of being immortal, allowed him to be exceptionally choosy in making his choice.

If Melia noticed the stir her presence by him had created, she did not show it. Instead, she remained silent during the first hours of the feast, adding to the conversation only when addressed directly. Legolas suspected that she was somewhat overwhelmed by the company of so many elves when it was very possible that Arwen was the first of the Eldar she had ever encountered. This was within the realm of possibility since in the Third Age, presence of the First Born had diminished to a shadow of their former strength in Middle Earth.

However, despite her desire to remain a silent observer in the proceedings, she was undoubtedly the center of attraction. As strange as the elves might seem to Melia, she was as much a curiosity to them because of her Easterling heritage. For many years, the race of elves and men had fought the Haradrim and the Wainriders. During the last battle in the War of the Ring, the Easterlings had rallied under Sauron’s banner but little was known about the race themselves. Melia was most likely the only Easterling female that any of them had even seen for though men were encountered in battle often enough, the women of the Haradrim were sequestered beyond their seeing.

Unfortunately, it was clear to Legolas that the court of Lorien was also deeply curious as to the nature of his personal relationship with the Ranger. After all, there had to be something between them for her to be travelling with him alone. Legolas supposed it did not aid matters that he paid such close attention to Melia while she sat next to him during the feast. He had wanted her seated close to him because he knew her trepidation in such vaunted company. She was by nature a solitary creature, slowly becoming accustomed to having people in her life again. Legolas would be lying to himself and to anyone who asked if he denied that he enjoyed having her at his side.

When the meal was done and they were waiting for the rest of the evening’s entertainment to proceed, one of the elven maidens whose name Legolas had learnt throughout the course of the nigh, was called Miriel, directed her attention at Melia.

"Tell us of Far Harad Melia," the girl asked and the question drew a general rumble of interest from those present.

Melia swallowed thickly, wishing she had not been singled out in such a manner. She was still trying to accustom herself to their ways and she had no wish to be the focus of everyone in the room. However, there was little she could do to avoid it since Miriel was waiting for an answer. Meeting Legolas’ gaze, she saw his encouraging smile and supposed that if she was capable of fighting orcs and dragons from Angband, she could face answering a simple question about her homeland. Besides she sensed no malice in Miriel’s question, mere curiosity.

"Well," she spoke after thinking up a suitable answer. "My father’s tribe were descendants of Bor, the hero who fought with the Eldar against Morgoth in the First Age. After the battle in which Bor and his sons were killed, what was left of his kinsmen decided that they would no longer stand in battle with the forces of evil. They broke with the Haradrim and traveled deep into the Sunlands, beyond what you consider the known world. Unfortunately, the rest of the Haradrim did not accept the break and so since that first age, we have constantly been at war. The others believed that we betrayed Morgoth and later by our refusal to fight in the Second Age, Sauron as well."

"That is a terrible fate," Celeborn declared with clear distress on his face because two millennia of constant battle without end was an ordeal he could not even begin to imagine for his people or any other for that matter, especially in the desire to maintain an ideal. "It is a wonder your tribe was able to survive."

"Our survival came at a price," Melia said sadly and continued her explanations. "When the Haradrim were allied to Sauron, it is said that we were forced to endure the presence of Orcs and Goblins in our lands. Some of our women were taken and despoiled so it was decided that to protect us, we should remain hidden always."

"How primitive!" Miriel gasped, unable to imagine such a life where she would remain cloistered away from the eyes of all. "Was it this way for you?"

"Yes," Melia nodded slowly, remembering those days when she would only be allowed out of her home in the company of her father, who was more tolerant than most regarding the conduct of women in the Tribe. "Fortunately, my father had spent some time in this part of Middle earth so he saw that it was possible to raise daughters differently, which is why he taught me how to defend myself. In our lands, women may not fight or use weapons."

"That is a shame for I have seen enough women in combat to know they can carry themselves in battle as well as men," Legolas replied.

It was true. Eowyn was a shinning testament of this. The Shield Maiden of Rohan had killed the Witch King at Pelennor Fields, a thing that prophecy indicated no man was able to do.

"It was for our protection to begin with," Melia explained, having never really considered the traditions of her homeland so deeply until now. "However, as time went by it became simpler for men to choose their brides and conduct their household by having absolute command over the destinies of women."

"If we were to attempt such practices here, I do not think we would survive the night," Celeborn replied with a smile and receiving resounding agreement from those at court by the chorus of nods and soft replies. "I think it would grieve me if I did not have the counsel of my lady during the times of ages past."

Celeborn tried to hide the sadness in his eyes and it was opportune when the elven musicians began to play their instruments for the entertainment of those present. When the sweet melody of their song filled the air, it distracted everyone from the Lord of Lorien’s sorrow over the absence of his wife. With usual good humor, Celeborn hastened his people to enjoy the music and very soon some maids were invited to the floor by their suitors in order to dance. Only when this celebration of life bloomed around him, did Legolas see Celeborn’s somber mood dissipate. The Prince was glad for he liked the Lord of Lorien whose manner and disposition was not unlike his own and hoped someday Celeborn would be reunited with Galadriel again.

However, when he turned to Melia again, he found to his surprise that she was no longer by his side. What was even worse than this discovery was she had been borne away to join the other dancers by none other than Haldir! Legolas felt himself seething with annoyance as he saw Melia in Haldir’s arms, moving to the music and appearing as if she enjoyed his company.

Was it only this morning that Haldir’s had called her his plaything?

Legolas could not believe that she would forget that slander so quickly and deign to dance with the elf who had delivered such a stain upon her virtue. However, no signs of this slight appeared on her face as she danced merrily with Haldir, a radiant smile across her lips. Legolas watched Melia as she moved across the floor with Haldir, gliding in perfect synchronicity with the captain of Celeborn’s guard. Even Haldir’s typical arrogant manner seemed to have dissipated and there was real warmth when he gazed upon the Ranger. He seemed enchanted by her and Legolas bristled at the hold the Lorien elf had around Melia’s waist.

It did not take long before Legolas found himself striding across the floor and tapping Haldir’s shoulder so that the captain of Lorien would allow him a dance with the Ranger. Haldir did not appear surprised to see him and was actually rather gracious when he relinquished his hold upon Melia and stepped aside for Legolas.

"Why are you dancing with him?" Legolas hissed softly when Haldir was out of earshot and they had resumed dancing. This was no easy thing to do considering the sharpness of elven hearing. Despite himself, Legolas could not help but slide his hand possessively around her waist when he saw Haldir watching them together.

Melia raised a brow at the question and the sharpness behind it. "Because as you reminded me earlier today," she stared at him trying to grasp what was running through his mind. "We are guests in Lorien and should return our host’s hospitality with some measure of courtesy."

"Haldir is not your host," Legolas retorted stiffly, not meeting her in the eyes and searching the floor for Haldir to see if he was lurking about like a spider in wait for its next meal.

"He is the captain of Celeborn’s guard," Melia declared bewildered by his tone. "He asked me to dance and I saw no harm in it."

"He insulted your honor," he reminded. "Did you forget that when you chose to dance with him?"

"I did not," Melia said hotly for it was starting to dawn upon her what might have angered him this way. In understanding his motivations, she was able to force away her own ire once she knew what fire was coursing through him to engender this behavior. Melia did not know whether to smile or throttle him. She chose a third less confrontational alternative. "We have reached an understanding of sorts," she responded calmly. "Haldir is quite tolerable once one learns how to deal with him."

This did not please Legolas in the slightest. He did not like the idea of Melia tolerating Haldir on any level. "Haldir is an elitist snob. He uses women for pleasure as if they were trophies he might hunt. He would use you in the same fashion."

"I know," Melia agreed readily enough. "He already asked to bed me."

Legolas stopped dancing in mid step and stared at her.

"What? He would ask that of you while you were with….." he stopped speaking before he said too much.

"I said no," Melia declared, uncertain whether or not she should be flattered by this display or furious that he would think her so incapable of managing the affections of an unwanted lover. Around them, others present in the hall were staring at them questioningly, wondering why the guests of honor had so abruptly stopped dancing. Of course, no one could have possibly missed the daggers Legolas had been flinging in Haldir’s direction when the captain was dancing with the Ranger.

"You said no," he swallowed.

"I said no," she shook her head at him before she broke into a little smile. "You are very sweet when you are jealous," she replied as she took his hand in hers and pulled him away from the dance floor, onto the balcony outside. Melia had no desire to continue this conversation before the entire court of Lorien. Already too much was being made of their arrival together and Melia did not wish to inspire any more rumors about their non-existent relationship.

"I was not jealous," Legolas defended himself feebly once they were standing on the balcony overlooking Lorien. The sight beneath them was breathtaking with fireflies dancing through the tall trees, which in turn cradled the stars above them. "I have known Haldir for longer than you have been alive. He has always been a favorite of the ladies," he pointed out trying to explain himself and unable to deny that he felt terribly foolish for succumbing to such childish behavior. He was three thousand years and should be above such petty behavior. Jealousy was a condition of men not elves.

"I do not doubt that," Melia replied but she knew he was jealous, no matter what his higher evolved sensibilities might have her believe. "His only interest in me was to satisfy his curiosity about Easterling women. When I declined his offer he was hardly crushed by rejection."

Now that the moment had passed, Melia found his jealousy more touching then she found it amusing. She noticed that he still could not meet her eyes and his hand remained entwined in hers as if he feared letting go might allow someone else to stake their claim upon her. "Are you going to sulk all evening?"

"I am not sulking," he said petulantly, appearing like a little boy who was refused his own way.

"I do not see why you are jealous," Melia replied as she stared into his eyes and saw how easy it would be to lose herself in them if she were to succumb to the unthinkable. She swore that when she gazed into their depths, she could almost feel the sea. "I have enough difficulty trying to tolerate you. Why should I wish to vex myself with the company of another? One I might add who is even more arrogant than you?"

"True," Legolas answered, seeing that she was teasing him but with the music in his ears and with her hand in his, he did not care. He would be her fool tonight even if the cold light of day brought with it their senses. "Not to mention that I have claimed you as mine."

"Of course," she nodded with a smile, glad that he had overcome his little snit. "I forgot that. I should have told Haldir."

"I would have loved to have seen his face when you did," Legolas replied before his tone because serious. "I am sorry for doubting you. You deserve better than my suspicion."

"Do not trouble yourself," she said sincerely. "It was flattering and Haldir means nothing to me, just as I mean nothing to him. Even though you drive me to distraction, you and I are friends."

"Friends," he looked at her.

"Yes," Melia nodded.

"I do not wish to be friends," he said finally, caving into the feelings he could no longer deny.

Allowing her no chance at escape, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him in one swift moment. As their bodies crushed against each other, he sensed Melia trying to break free but he had finally summed up the courage to seize the moment and he would not yield until he had what he desired. His mouth captured hers in a soft but insistent kiss. She stiffened against him as if panicked but as he encircled her back, drawing her closer to him, Legolas felt her resistance crumble and her lips parted to give his questing tongue permission to continue.

Almost dizzy from the taste of his soft lips against hers, Melia could think of nothing when he explored her mouth with ruthless abandon. He was not unskilled at the art she soon discovered as his lips plundered hers, tasting her like she was something precious and brief.

Legolas could tell that she was afraid, even when she had allowed him the kiss. She was filled with the same inhibitions as he but he doubted even she knew the effect she was having upon him. His mouth devoured hers, he tasted her lips and felt his whole world shrink into sensation when she began to kiss him back once her senses had returned to her.

There had been other women to say for certain, however, there had always been some restraint that kept him in control, that always ensured that no matter what, he was the Prince of Mirkwood and they were there for his pleasure. The encounters had always been enjoyable for both parties but secretly, Legolas knew they lacked the emotional substance that would have made the experience truly special. Like it could be now. For days, they had flirted with each other, skirting on the edge of possibility because to admit the true nature of their feelings was to open the floodgates to a tidal wave that could never be closed.

All of her was much better than he imagined. Her scent, her taste and her touch brought out in him a raw craving for her he never dreamed could exist in a being who had lived as long as he.

"No!" She suddenly pulled away from him, leaving him shocked that she had actually retreated.

For a few seconds, Legolas could do nothing but come to grips with the realization that the pleasure they had afforded each other had come to an abrupt end.

"I’m sorry!" She gasped, mortified that she had let things get so far. "I want you so much that I cannot bear it but we are both doomed, you know that! This thing between us can only end badly."

"It does not have to," Legolas tried to convince her but his efforts despite his need for her was half hearted because Legolas knew Melia was right. "I am in love with you. You must know that by now."

"I do know," Melia nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I have fought hard how I feel for you but I cannot, I do feel the same but we have no future together."

"Beren and Luthien had a future," Legolas pointed out, grasping desperately at any semblance of hope, not merely for her but for himself. He knew of what she spoke, of the obstacles that lay between them but he did love her and he did not know if he could stand to be without her.

"You and I are not Beren and Luthien. She was the daughter of Melian and I am just a woman. I will grow old Prince, I will grow old and one day I will die, perhaps far sooner than either of us know. You will go on and if you bind yourself to me, you will mourn me for eternity and I do not think I can live with that."

"That is my choice to make," he argued, anguish in his heart because he knew she was more far sensible than he.

"If you believe that I love you," she met his eyes firmly. "Believe that I will not sit by and let you make such a choice."

And with that, she turned and walked away.

Chapter Four:
Dol Guldur

To the casual observer, nothing appeared amiss between the Prince of Mirkwood and the Ranger Melia when the duo departed East Lorien in order to resume their journey to Dol Guldur. When dawn broke over Mirkwood, the two travelers thanked their host, Lord Celeborn, for his kindness and hospitality of the night before and set out of the elven settlement, as if nothing unusual had taken place between them. Haldir had noted some tension between the Prince and his companions, but failed to make mention of it for the captain of Celeborn’s guard was wise enough to discern that his interest was probably not required or wanted. Celeborn had made them the gift of two horses, which pleased Melia to no end for it meant that they would arrive at Dol Guldur all the sooner.

Considering what lay between her and Legolas, it was probably for the best.

Legolas rode on silently, looking ahead because it was far safer than facing her. If he did, he would only be revisited by the images of the previous night, when his need for her had been so fierce he would have done and said anything to touch her. After she had left him and retired for the night, he had found himself talking solace by walking through the wood, trying to understand why she was so afraid of anything between them. Of course, he knew what obstacles lay before them if they chose to pursue any relationship. He wondered if she knew that he was just as frightened of the consequences as she, that for him it would be worse though she could not see it. He would remain with her all her life if she allowed him even if he knew that someday he would have to watch her die and then go on without her for an eternity.

Did she not think he knew the risks?

For a long time, he had thought how sad it was for Arwen that she would give up her immortality and her place among her people. She would never know what it was like to answer the call of the sea when she chose to bind herself to a mortal man. He knew many who were angered that the Evenstar, the fairest of her day, should squander her existence on a man, to die with him when his time had come. Until now, Legolas had not understood how easy it was for her to make that decision, once her heart was given to Aragorn or how fortunate she was to be able to make that choice. For at this moment, he would have given anything to have the same privilege.

Melia had sought to save him by pushing him away, not understanding that it was too late. He loved her as he had loved no one in three millennia. There had been women who captured his heart, he would not delude himself by thinking that this was the first time his passion had been stirred in this manner but he did not love them, not like he loved her. He knew that if he had Arwen’s choice he would have done the same and given up his mortality in a heartbeat but that was not to be. It was a hard thing knowing that he had lost her before she was his and understood that she had good reason for her actions the night before. Melia said she loved him but she would not sit by, knowing that he returned that love at great emotional risk to himself.

Three thousand years old and he had no idea what to do.

Legolas might have taken comfort in knowing that Melia felt just as miserable as he was about their situation. The Ranger was furious for allowing herself to fall in love with an elf of all people. She knew the heart seldom permitted one to choose whom it decided to bestow its affection upon but even Melia did not think she would be insane enough to have feelings for the First Born, not to mention the Prince of Mirkwood! She could not have made a more complicated choice if she had tried. Yet against her will, she had become drawn to this handsome elf beside her, who by his nature and his good humor claimed her heart as if it had become his to own. Melia knew that it was entirely possible that she would love him for the rest of her days but for her that time did not seem terribly long when compared to his.

As they rode through the wood in silence, Melia wished more than anything that what transpired between them had not happened because she could not force the memory of his kisses from her mind. She found herself studying his profile as he rode by her side, secretly examining the contours of his face and imagining how soft his lips were to the touch. This would not do, she told herself. Out here in the wilderness, her mind needed to be sharp not lost in daydreams like she was a virginal maid. She was far too experienced and seasoned in life to be this way and this silence between them was not aiding matters much. Despite how much Melia loathed the notion, she and Legolas needed to clear the air if they were going to continue their journey together.

"Prince," Melia let out a heavy sigh. "We need to talk."

She saw his posture slacken a little in the saddle as if he had been waiting for her to say those words before he himself could broach the subject. "Yes," he agreed somberly. "We do."

"I am sorry for last night," Melia apologised, feeling like the wanton for leading him on and then pulling away so abruptly. It was not fair to him. "I was swept away in the moment and allowed myself to forget how things are with us."

"How things are with us?" He turned his eyes towards her. "How things are with us, is that I love you."

"If it were that simple," she sighed wearily.

"It would be simple if you were not so afraid," he replied. "Do you not trust me to know my own heart and decide how I should choose to bestow my love?"

"I am afraid of nothing," she said hotly. "I just know that tragedy can only be the outcome of anything between us. I do not wish to watch you stay young and beautiful while the years turn me into an old woman who resembles nothing like the Melia you care for. I cannot bear to watch the love for me diminish in your eyes as the years pass. I would spare myself that pain and you the sorrow of loss when you realize you lost me long before I died."

"It would not be that way," he tried to argue desperately, wanting her above all else to know that could never happened.

"Can you say so for certain?" Melia returned tautly. "I cannot and I will turn from this path before it becomes irrevocable to both of us."

"You do not walk the path alone," Legolas replied just as sharply. "I am there with you and I do not wish to abandon what I feel for you in the fear of what may happen tomorrow."

Legolas had wrestled all night with her words after she left him. Yes, it was true, they were not Beren or Luthien and she was probably just as right that their love would only succeed in breaking both their hearts some day. However, it was better to know a few years of bliss together rather than a lifetime of feeling nothing at all. For so long, Legolas had been chained by duty, bound to his responsibilities as Prince of Mirkwood but this one thing he would have, no matter what the consequences to himself. He loved her and though they had not lain with each other to complete their binding, he knew he was lost and it was already too late for him.

"You hardly know me, or anything of me. All you know is how you feel," Melia shook her head wishing that she did not feel this way lightly. "We have not known nearly enough each other long enough to be able to say that we will stand the test of time. All you are to me is an elven prince whose life I know nothing of save to say that you have lived through far greater times than I."

"Do you love me?" He asked her pointedly.

Melia hesitated in her answer. She knew that she did but she did not see why it was necessary to say it. However, he awaited an answer, his eyes full of hope that what she spoke of last night was no figment of his imagination borne of their passion for one another. It was also the first time that the question had been put to her so starkly.

"Yes," Melia nodded, "I do love you."

She saw Legolas’ chest swell with happiness for a brief instance before his expression hardened again. "If you love me then that is all you need to know. I know nothing really of who you were before I met you other than what you have deigned to tell me and I know without doubt or hesitation that I love you. That I will until the day all things are done between us. If we know this about each other, cannot we take a gamble upon a future together, however short that time is?"

"No," she replied and faced front again.

"Why not?" He insisted, unable to believe she could be so stubborn about this.

"Because I will not end like my father," she said finally and dug her heels into her horse, leaving him behind to contemplate her words.

***************

For a thousand years the fortress of Dol Guldur had stood southwest of Mirkwood, the singularity to which all evil in the great forest was drawn. It was once the bastion of Sauron before the dark lord had shifted his attention Barad-dur, leaving his Nazgul to rule in his stead. Before Dol Guldur had been built, the site of its erection was covered in living trees that were brutally cut down in order to accommodate the Necromancer, the name by which Sauron was known when he inhabited the fortress. Even after the War of the Ring, when the elves of Mirkwood or Eryn Lasgalen as they now preferred to call it, had torn down its walls and cleansed its dungeons, the lands still remained barren where it once stood.

As Melia and Legolas approached the ancient fortress, the Ranger saw that the prince was right, there was little left of Dol Guldur that was of use to anyone. The land upon which it was built was devoid of vegetation or any other living thing. Bare foundations stared at them defiantly, refusing to allow the forest to claim the last vestiges of its former dark glory. The pits housing the dungeons that had caused so much pain and torture were exposed holes in the earth; their cells flung open and empty. No trace of the suffering they had caused lingered, other than the faint smell of sinister air clinging to its bricks and mortar.

She shuddered as she swept her gaze about the place. Though the sun was out and the lack of trees had robbed them of shade, she felt a cold chill run through her. It sent tendrils of ice down her spine, though she could not explain why. She had no special senses that came with her river daughter heritage, at least none that she knew of. In all honestly, she preferred to remain that way but she could nevertheless feel the terrible things that had taken place here. Nearing it, Melia tried to hide her discomfort because they were here at her insistence and she was not going to falter now that she was so close to her answers.

What was left of Dol Guldur after the elves were done with it was little more than a mound of large stones where the fortress had been. Large, ragged holes in the dirt with steps leading to the bottom that used to be the infamous dungeons where so many were tortured and abused, were exposed to the elements. Melia did not like this place and outwardly, it appeared that there was little Dol Guldur could tell her that she did not already know. The horses became anxious when they found themselves where the castle wall would be if the were still standing and it was decided that it was best to continue their investigation on foot.

Melia was shaking but she was doing her level best to hide it as she moved across the gravel, frightened of making a sound. Even though she was sensible enough to know there was nothing here capable of harming them; she felt the need to be silent as if she would wake something up if she were not careful. Her heart was pounding inside her chest for she could feel as if she was close to something, thought what she was not certain. She did not like having this perception because it was an awful feeling to know that danger was coming before you could see it.

Legolas who was blessed with such heightened awareness could feel the evil of Dol Guldur but to him, it was what remained of its ominous past. Great evil often lingered in the places it once inhabited, even when it was supposed to be vanquished forever. That is why nothing grew where the fortress used to be. It was as if the very presence of Sauron and the Nazgul had salted the earth forever. He glanced at Melia and saw that her eyes were fixed on the path ahead and cursed himself for not realizing how frightened she was. He could sense no immediate danger around them other than the terrible resonance of what had taken place at Dol Guldur and yet her eyes were like a frightened animal.

"What is it?" He asked her alarmed.

"I do not know," she shook her head as she forced her feet to keep moving. "I feel cold."

It disturbed her because the feeling intensified as she rounded the ruins of the castle itself and made her way towards the dungeons. She should have run away from the unpleasant sensations coursing through her skin but she was compelled to keep going. She ignored the walls that had crumbled to a pile and the hard gravel under her boot where there should have been grass and fertile soil. As much as she loathed continuing, she knew that at the heart of all the brutality that was committed here was the answer she needed to find her mother.

"There is nothing here," Legolas explained, as he kept pace with her, unwilling to allow her to endure this odyssey alone despite what difficulties lay between them. She was so afraid and he could not imagine what would frighten her for she was one of the bravest women he had ever known. "We cleansed it as much as we could after all the evil that had been allowed to fester here for nearly a thousand years."

Legolas remembered how the Nazgul had launched their attack upon the kingdoms of the Mirkwood using Dol Guldur as their beachhead. Never had the lands of Lothlorien and the Woodland Realm faced such peril on their own soil and it was only sheer determination that had driven the enemy back to its fortress where the combined strength of both elven kingdoms had destroyed it forever. He remembered the cost of that victory, the dead he had helped to bury and the friends who had died as he and Thranduil led them into battle. It was their finest moment and perhaps their saddest as well.

They reached the dungeons and even Legolas had to confess feeling some trepidation at descending into the pit where the Nazgul had done their worst to elves, men and dwarf alike. They say the Nazgul tortured and murdered thousands within this walls throughout the course of their rule. Who knew what other evils Sauron had committed while he occupied the place as the Necromancer until Gandalf exposed him for who he was? Melia paused at the stairs and stared into the pit. In the light of day, it appeared harmless enough and she took the crumbling steps to the floor of the pit. Legolas followed her, wondering what it was she sought so desperately. There was no way of knowing whether or not her mother had been here. Nazgul did not keep records and if there had been any, they would have been destroyed when the elves razed Dol Guldur to the ground.

"Melia, she is not here," Legolas replied, hoping that would help her in some way.

"I know that," Melia hissed, wondering if he thought her for a fool. She knew her mother was no longer here but had she been in Dol Guldur once?

That was a question Melia was not able to answer.

She reached the floor of the pit and was grateful that she could see the sun above her head for its brilliance gave her some comfort despite the fear she felt in her heart. The memory of death was like thick smoke, choking her. She could feel it against her skin and in her lungs when she drew breath. Legolas was staring at her in confusion, not understanding. In all truth, she did not understand either. She had never had any sort of mental ability common to elves or wizards. She had always been blissfully human relying on senses of sight, sound and mind.

"What frightens you so?" He asked, coming up behind her so that she could draw strength from his presence.

"I do not know," Melia shook her head, grateful that she was not alone. She saw a cell, its bars still in place even though its door was wide open. Inside its confines there was only emptiness. Melia walked towards it with a power that was not quite her own. She could feel her stomach starting to knot, clenching with a decidedly unpleasant sensation. The feeling of death as she neared the cell was so strong that she started to tremble a little and would faltered if not for Legolas’ hand taking her own, in order to help her complete her journey there. She passed through the cell, her fingers grazing the cold steel when suddenly the entire world went mad.

It was like a blinding flash of light inside her head.

Its intensity was so powerful that it felt as if she were being blinded from inside her skull. She let out a short cry as she landed on her hands and knees gravel biting into her palms as she fell. The pain was like a spear through her head and she screamed out loud.

*************

The woman was weeping.

She was crouched in the corner of her cell, weeping terrible tears.

The creature standing before her was once a man. What it was now, no one save Sauron himself and the shadow dwellers could explain for certain. Her voice was not the only one in such torment. Echoes of other voices, men and women, weeping elsewhere created a windstorm of pain swirling around the creature who had caused it. He was not alone though. There was someone else with him. The old man dressed entirely in blue who was not as dispassionate to the woman’s tears as his unholy companion. There was sadness in his eyes, the look of someone who was damned for all time and knew it.

"This will not work," he implored the creature before him, the one who wore black like an endless chasm of darkness. "I cannot do this."

"You have begun," the creature answered and his voice had the will to drain the life from anyone who heard it. It was all things hidden in the night of terrors that lurked in dark places waiting for prey to emerge.

"I cannot finish," he replied. "They will die before I am done and what good will they be to your Master, unformed?"

The woman continued to weep, heeding nothing of them both.

"He is your Master," the creature reminded. "You chose to serve him in this place. We have been good to you. You have had your fill of unwilling subjects to work your magic. Now it is time to pay the price for that."

"I never intended this!" The old man cried out. "I only wished to make something greater than elves or men combined. Your master had no right to twist my work into this abomination!"

"My master has right to do anything he pleases!" The creature shouted and though his voice was not loud, its menace sent fear through the old man.

The old man started to touch the woman, to ask forgiveness before his courage left him, but she did not look at him and there was no forgiveness when he had not even done his worst. "I am sorry," he whispered. "I never meant for this to happen Ninuie."

At the sound of her name, she turned her head and looked at him with tear filled eyes. "Not as sorry as we are Istar, not as sorry as we."

**************

"Melia!"

Legolas shook her again. She lay in his arms, blood running a red stream from her nose, her eyes wide open and seeing nothing. He had no choice but to take her out of the cell after she had fallen into her seizure. He had no idea what she was seeing but her scream had been enough to force him into action. He swept her into his arms and carried her out of the pit. Her state was such that she barely noticed that he had brought her away from the fortress. For a terrible moment, he thought she had died and the pain that course through him was so agonizing that he might have crumbled in despair if he had allowed himself to believe it.

When they had reached the horses, he lay her down on the ground once more, cursing the shadow that Dol Guldur still cast upon them. She did not move and continued to stare into nothingness until he shook her again, this time harder than before. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest he was surprised the sound alone did not wake her. There were tears running down her cheeks from terrified eyes that saw straight past him into what he could not say but knew for certain must be terrible to reduce her to this. She was being treated to a sending of some sort and Legolas cursed that Gandalf was not here because the wizard would know how to treat this malaise.

"Melia! Wake up I beg you!" Legolas implored, suddenly understanding that this was what she was so afraid of, this horrible feeling that gripped his heart knowing that she might die at any time. This was what she had been trying to spare him.

She gasped out loud, her body arching on his grip, trying to draw as much air into her lungs as possible. When the need for air subsided, she crumpled in his arms again and started to cough as if she could not breathe. The sound broke the still calm of the forest and sent birds in their nests flying in search of quieter surroundings. Melia’s coughing soon descended into weeping and she cried in loud sobs as she clung to him as if he were all that stood between her and complete madness.

"Melia, are you alright? Are you hurt?" He demanded, panicked by the sight of her blood when there was no wound.

"I saw it!" She wept bitterly. "I saw what happened there! What happened to my mother!"

"How could you see?" He asked bewildered. Celeborn had said nothing of her having any special abilities because of her father’s mortal heritage.

"I do not know," Melia shook her head, confused and frightened as she continue to cling to him. "As long as I can remember, I have dreamt of my mother. I cannot say for certain what those dreams mean because they were always vague and uncertain but in them, she was always in pain."

"In pain?" He stared at her, understanding the reasons for those terrible dreams that plagued her during their journey here.

"Yes," she nodded, releasing her hold of him now that she felt a little stronger and sat up on her own. She noticed the dampness on her cheek and touched her skin experimentally to be rewarded with the sight of blood. "In them, she was always screaming as if something terrible was happening to her. It never seemed clear and I never told my father. He was devastated when she left him and in the years since our return to Far Harad, I learnt not to speak of her to him."

"You saw something in the Pit," Legolas declared in understanding. "Something that made you able to unravel the mystery?"

"She was here Prince," Melia met his eyes with sorrow. "She was in the pit with others, I think they were all the same. They were all weeping. There was so much fear and suffering. I think what I saw was always inside me but it required being here at Dol Guldur to open the door. I do not think she is dead, I do not feel that she is dead."

"But you saw her in torment," Legolas reminded. "If she was here, the Nazgul would have killed her, all of them if she was not alone."

"Something was being done to her," Melia replied, trying to recollect every aspect of the tortured vision she had been forced to see. "She was weeping and there was an old man, she called him Istar."

Legolas’ eyes widened with shock. "Did you say Istar?"

"Yes," Melia nodded. "Istar. Does that mean something to you?"

Legolas stood up and walked away disturbed beyond all reasoning. Melia realised that he knew something and stood up shakily. "Legolas, you know something. Tell me."

"It is impossible," he turned to her after a moment, not knowing what to say. "Saruman is dead, Gandalf has gone to the Undying Lands and Radagast cares only for Kelvar and Olvar of Middle earth. He has never been to Dol Guldur."

"Gandalf the Grey?" Melia stared at him in shock, recalling the wizard that come to rescue them at Nargothrond with the rest of the Fellowship. "That is an Istar?"

"Gandalf was an Istar," Legolas met her eyes nodding. "Five Istari came from the Undying Lands to save us from the dark powers of Sauron. Of the three, I have already spoken but two, two were unaccounted for. We know nothing of what became of them. I do not believe even Gandalf knew."

"He was wearing blue," she whispered. "He was an old man wearing blue."

"We encountered no Istari when we destroyed Dol Guldur," he answered. "Only Nazgul."

"He was there!" Melia insisted. "If you say you love me, if you believe that I am all that you will ever want in this life, I swear to you I know what I saw. It was real! He was there in that dungeon doing something terrible to my mother and all her people! I have searched for years to find some trace of a River Woman and I have found nothing. What if they were all somehow brought here to Dol Guldur? Sauron had more than enough power to see that was possible, even when he had no body! What if it was his will to destroy them all? Would that not explain why no one has seen or heard of a River Woman?"

"Melia," he took her shoulders in his hand and made her look into his eyes. "I believe what you saw, but we do not know that your mother and the others like her were not killed by the Nazgul."

"She’s alive!" Melia exclaimed. "I know it! If the Istar is alive then so must she be! I have to find him!"

"Melia," Legolas stared at her in exasperation, wanting to help but what she wanted to do was next to impossible. "If you saw an Istar, he could be anywhere in Middle Earth. He has remained hidden for centuries without any of us, even members of his own Order, having any idea of him. How do you expect to find him?"

Melia sunk to her knees in defeat because he was right. She had no idea how to find her mother, not one at all. She raised her eyes to him, brimming with tears. "This cannot be all there is. I cannot have come so far to learn what I have and be powerless to stop any of it. I saw what I saw for a reason."

Legolas dropped to the ground with her and took her up in his arms. She did not resist as he held her in his embrace. "Come home with me to the Woodland Realm and we will find your answers," he whispered softly. "I promise you, we will find out the truth about your mother."

*************

On horseback, it took almost three days to cross Mirkwood and enter the Woodland Realm, kingdom of King Thranduil. As much as Legolas would have preferred this homecoming to be a happy one, he felt only somberness upon entering the familiar ground of his childhood. It raised his spirits to see the trees he had climbed as a boy or the glades where he sat and listened to the sounds of the forest, when the noise at court became too much for him. As a youth, he had hunted many things in Mirkwood’s depths and returning home gave him some sense of order that though the world might change so much that he barely recognised it at times, Mirkwood at least was one constant in his universe.

Of course, what he intended to do here would change his existence as he knew it and would most likely bring grief to his father. Although Legolas loved Thranduil dearly, he knew he could not stop the events he had set in motion the day he had left Gondor. He had no wish to break his father’s heart but Aragorn was right. He would never feel fulfilled ruling a kingdom he would always believe was his father’s alone. He could live with being the Prince of Mirkwood but not with being its king. If he was to wear that title, Legolas would prefer to earn it instead of have it come to him at the expense of his father.

If that did not trouble the Prince enough as he closed in on the wood surrounding his home, expecting at any time to be waylaid by his father’s guard, Melia’s demeanor since their departure from Dol Guldur was worrying to say the least. The spark in her eyes seemed to have faded and the sadness he saw in place of it was enough to break Legolas’ heart. Although she tried to maintain a brave face as she always did, he could tell that it was hurting her to be so stymied in her search. He wished he could give her some hope but in truth, he did not have the slightest clue as to where they should begin to search for a missing Istar. He hoped that perhaps his father might have some idea for if an Istar did reside in Mirkwood for a time, even if it was at Dol Guldur, Legolas was certain that Thranduil would have heard something of it.

Legolas knew he was not far from home even though he had yet to encounter any of his father’s men. The only reason he had managed to slip through their defenses undetected was mostly because he knew more about moving stealthily then they ever did. Since his youth, he had been an accomplished hunter who was capable of stalking prey without their slightest inkling of his presence until he had moved in for the kill. In Mirkwood, with the evil things that moved about the darkness of its uncharted woods, such a skill was necessary for their continued survival.

"How far are we from your home?" Melia asked as their horses moved through a well-traveled path.

"An hour," Legolas looked around the trees and smiled faintly.

"An hour from Thranduil’s court and not one guard?" She rose her brow in question. "That is hardly a safe situation for an elf king."

"You think so," his smile seemed to grow wider.

"What do you know that I do not?" She looked at him suspiciously. He had that look of mischief about him again, the one which meant he knew something that she did not and was enjoying every second of it.

"Shall we tell her, my friends?" Legolas called out. "Or do you plan to hide forever and forego the courtesy of greeting your prince?"

A ripple of laughter moved through the wood around them in tandem with rustling foliage and suddenly, Melia saw bodies dropping out the canopy of trees, like drifting leaves to surround them. Legolas grinned widely as elven warriors appeared out of the wood, obviously aware of their existence for some time now. Melia frowned at the prince, feeling somewhat ineffectual that she had not noticed their presence. As a Ranger, she prided herself in being able to detect the enemy before an ambush although elves were often the exception to such rules for they were the masters of stealth.

"I should have known better than to hide from you Prince Legolas," the leader of the group declared happily as he approached Legolas’ horse. Like all elves, he wore his golden hair long but his appearance indicated that he was a little older than Legolas.

"Nunaur," Legolas greeted the captain of his father’s guard. "It is good to see you. How do things fare here?"

"They are better since Lord Celeborn and his lot chose to civilise the southern forest," Nunaur replied. "Your father will be pleased to see your return, Prince. Only today, he spoke of how much you were missed."

"Then we will both be happy," Legolas smiled faintly before turning his eye to Melia who was being held under deep scrutiny by Nanaur’s men. "Nanuar, I would like you to meet Melia, she is a Ranger of Angmar and my travelling companion."

Melia expected the same reaction from Nanaur that she had received from Haldir at East Lorien but nothing of the like occurred. Instead he bowed politely in greeting, as if he was uncertain of what to make of her yet and regarded his prince once more. It did not take her long to realize that his respect for Legolas prevented his making assumptions about her relationship with the Prince of Mirkwood. Melia did not know whether or not that was a compliment or an insult.

It did concern her however, what sort of reception she would receive when she was presented to King Thranduil by his son.

************

King Thranduil looked nothing like his son.

Although he was handsome and appeared far too young to have a son who was three thousand years old, his physical appearance bore little resemblance to Legolas. Legolas had told her much about his father but of his mother she knew little, except that she had journeyed to the Undying Lands shortly after his birth. Melia suspected that Legolas’ looks must come from his mother for Thranduil’s hair was dark like Arwen’s and his eyes were the color of emerald pools instead of the sea like his son. He appeared a less serious man then Legolas who only seemed to show his boyish mischief around her and maintained his wise manner around the rest of the Fellowship. If this was because he believed they needed his years as counsel, Melia could not say. However his father had no such inhibitions and expressed his happiness to see his son without restraining his emotions for the benefit of his court.

Legolas seemed happy enough to see his father but Melia could tell the shadow that was in his eyes as they made their greetings. Despite the present difficulties in the search for her mother, Melia was not so absorbed in her own defeat to not see that Legolas was enduring trials of his own. She felt badly for her manner since leaving Dol Guldur because it could not have been easy for him to come home to tell his father what was needed without having to worry about her as well. Melia resolved herself to be of better disposition at least for her stay in Mirkwood. Legolas had promised to help her find the missing Istar and though she doubted very much that he might be able to provide her the answers she needed, it was good to have his company in the search.

No matter how dangerous being around him could be.

Besides, she had something of a plan and Melia preferred that Legolas be at Mirkwood before she attempted it. If he knew what she had planned there was no way he would let her go through with it and she needed to do so if there was going to be any chance to find her mother. She only hoped that if she failed in her task, he would understand why she had left him to accomplish it. It was very possible that she could die in carrying out this foolhardy plan if past experience was anything to gauge. However, Melia had no choice. She had to try.

After the happy reunion between father and son, Thranduil immediately called for a feast to celebrate the return of his son. Although Legolas wished he did not make such a big fuss, there was little the prince could do to avoid it. Thranduil’s reaction to her was silent and contemplative, accepting his son’s explanation for her presence with little more than a smile and a nod. Melia immediately felt uncomfortable for she could tell the king was not usually so sedate. Unfortunately there was little she could do because leaving Mirkwood after its Prince and King had extended her their hospitality for the evening was extremely rude. Despite the urgency of her search and her misguided feelings for him, Melia believed Legolas needed her there at least for tonight. . He had made good on his promise to guide her to Dol Guldur and the least she could do was repay his kindness.

This time, Melia relented and borrowed from one of the elven ladies at Mirkwood a gown so that she could attend the gathering at Thranduil’s court in something other than the blue dress that Legolas had seen her wear twice before. When it was presented to her, Melia could not help but gasped at the beauty of it. It was the color of the amber sunset and the silken fabric against her skin seemed to make her glow with radiance. Melia was certain that there were ladies in Gondor who would pay their eyeteeth for such a work of art and she could not help but think that she was not good enough for such a gown.

When she dressed, she discovered something else in the room she had been assigned and could not imagine how he could have slipped it in there without her seeing him leave it. In a small box, was a single strand of gold, broken every few links by a single bead of sapphire. It was the loveliest thing she had ever seen and for a moment, Melia thought it must have been a mistake until she saw the note from the prince, asking her to wear it. She would have refused if not for the fact that she knew it would hurt him and threw caution to the winds by indulging him in this one thing.

Upon dressing, she went to join him in the hall where the feast was taking place. When she journeyed there, she noticed that her presence was raising eyebrows. Melia frowned unhappily, deciding the gossipmongers were already hard at work, speculating at their relationship. She supposed she could not blame them for this because Legolas was the crown prince and unattached princes such as he, would cause a stir even if they paid special attention to a scullery maid. However, it did not aid matters much when Melia was placed next to Legolas and his father, in a position that was clearly provocative as far as royal protocol was concerned.

"I am glad you wore it," Legolas remarked as he glanced briefly at the chain around her neck.

"It is lovely," Melia smiled and traced her finger along the smooth gold. "Though I think a little much for the likes of me."

"It is only for you," he replied meeting her gaze intently. "It was my mother’s."

"Your mother’s?" Melia exclaimed shocked and understood now, why she was observed with such scrutiny earlier on. No doubt, everyone who passed her recognised the trinket she wore and its significance. "I cannot take this."

"I wish you to have it," he insisted.

"Prince," Melia sucked in her breath. "Please do not make this any harder between us then it has to be. I will be your friend but I cannot be your lover. You know why."

"I know that I love you," he hissed quietly, ignoring the entertainment provided for the guests. "I wish no other woman to wear what is my right to give."

He did not care who heard him say that, he was unashamed of his feelings for her.

Melia argued with him further but Legolas was adamant and she knew that he would not change his mind and take the gift from her. In some ways, she loved him more dearly for his determination and his indifference to what anyone thought about his feelings for her but she knew that his father had noted the exchange and he was not happy.

***********

When King Thranduil asked her to dance, Melia could not refuse but she sensed he had purpose in his request and so she had no choice but to join him with the other dancers on the floor as Legolas looked on with concern. Throughout the course of the night, he had been polite but she suspected that he was paying close attention to her effect upon his son. As they took a turn around the room, Melia waited for him to speak, prepared to agree with everything he said if his desires for Legolas were what she expected.

"He loves you," Thranduil broke his silence as his deep gaze bore into her.

Melia saw no reason to lie. "Yes he does," she nodded somberly. "I cannot change his mind on that no matter what I say to him."

"Do you love him?" The king asked in turn.

Melia hesitated before she answered. "Yes, I do but unlike him, I am not so idealistic to believe that any future can come of this thing between us."

"I am glad," Thranduil said softly. "I have nothing against you Melia, daughter of Hezare but I will not see my son’s heart broken. I lost my wife far sooner than I should have and it is a pain I carry with me always. I will not see him endure the same fate if he were to bind himself to a mortal. Your life will be short but his suffering is eternal."

"I know that," Melia’s voice lowered to a whisper. "Do you think I have not told him that?"

"Then perhaps you need to break his heart for him to understand," the king replied coldly.

"Break his heart?" She stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying. She had intended to leave certainly. In fact, after Legolas had revealed to her the necklace she wore around her neck was his mother’s she became more determined to go. However, Thranduil’s words had a cruelty to it she did not intend.

"Yes, show him that he means little to you no matter what he believes and leave him," Thranduil declared.

"No," Melia shook her head and met his eyes firmly. "I will not do that to him. I will say goodbye in my own way and then I shall go."

When the dance was finished and she returned to his side, Legolas questioned Melia about Thranduil’s words to her as they danced but she had no wish to tell him the truth. Already, a rift was going to take place between father and son when Legolas told his father that he would not be remaining in Mirkwood. There was no need for Melia to worsen the situation by telling him how much Thranduil disapproved of the possibility that he might have feelings for her not when she was leaving with the coming dawn.

*************

WARNING: ADULT SCENE

"Well that was not so terrible was it?" Legolas asked as he walked her to her room when she was ready to retire for the night.

The revelry was still taking place beyond the walls of the corridor and Legolas had informed her that such celebrations often lasted until the small hours of the night. Apparently, it was traditional for such celebrations to last until the sunrise and while it might be entertaining to linger and watched elven debauchery at its best, Melia intended to continue with her plan to return to Dol Guldur with the coming of the new day. However, only one duty was left to her now and it was not one she relished at all.

"What?" Melia looked at him as they approached her door.

"Being with me?" He smiled.

"Being with you is easy," Melia replied as she paused at her room. "Staying with you is hard."

"I wish you would trust me," he stared at her longingly. "I would never hurt you Melia."

Melia sucked in her breath, wishing he would not do this. "I know you would never hurt me Prince but by my death, I would hurt you and I cannot bear that."

"You take the choice away from me," he swallowed thickly, trying to hide his disappointment at her refusal again.

"You need to take this back," she reached for the chain around her neck. "It is not for me to have."

"I wish you to have it," he declared in exasperation. "Can you not let me have my way in this one thing?"

"Why can’t you see I am not trying to hurt you?" She cried, opening the door so that she could escape him.

However, Legolas was not about to let the matter rest and followed her inside. "You are a coward Melia."

Melia froze in her steps and swung around, facing him. Her eyes full of fury as he stood before her, proudly defiant. "You call me a coward for trying to spare your feelings? I fear nothing! Least of all you."

"You are afraid," he took a step closer, determined to have her understand that he was not going to give up on her. "You are so afraid you cannot bear it! I know you love me but you are so terrified of taking a chance that we might survive those odds you think are so insurmountable that you would say anything!

"How dare you!" She strode towards him. "I am thinking of you!"

"Think less of me and of what you wish, not what you fear." He retaliated sharply.

"Get out!" She ordered, hearing as much as she was going to.

"No," he shook his head and closed the distance between them.

Within seconds, he was before her and then suddenly he was against her. Legolas slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, capturing her mouth as soon as she opened it in protest and delivering his most searing kiss. She tried to push away but he was determined and he was passionate, his lips torturing her with brutal demand and she felt herself visited by the torrid encounter in East Lorien when she had almost given herself to him freely. His mouth upon hers was dizzying and though she knew it was folly, though there were a thousand reasons in her mind why this was wrong, Melia could not at the moment think of one as he kissed her. As the last of her resistance melted away by the incredible touch of him against her lips, Melia decided that mistake or not, she was his.

At least for tonight.

Legolas continued to press his mouth against hers until she finally relented and began kissing him back. He cared not any more that he would have her for only a splinter of time, only that she was his right this moment. His lips were brutal with need, plundering as his tongue forced its way past her teeth and invaded the moist cavern of her mouth. He forced her against the wall with the fire of his desire, driving her back against it as far as possible so that there would be no more place for her to run. When she could retreat no further, Legolas was greeted with the heat of her soft body pressed against his.

Melia no longer cared about tomorrow only tonight. She felt his hands running along her figure, exploring each curve with delight as his mouth continued to ravage her own with such fierce desire she could hardly breathe. Every since that night in Lorien, she had dreamed of him touching her this way again, even with all the consequences she still feared would take place when this night between them was done. She felt his hard chest pressed against her own and the growing evidence of his arousal as he pushed himself closer to her, until the air itself was driven from her lungs. There was nothing gentle or romantic about what was about to happen and Melia was grateful for it. At the moment, their sanity would only allow for a hard, driven coupling. Tenderness could come later.

Legolas could not get enough of her. Her lips were swelling from his ministrations and he took pity upon them and slid further down her neck, tasting every inch of smooth skin until he reached her collarbone. This time, there was no hesitation as he pulled the dress from her shoulders, sliding its fabric down her arms. Beneath its silk, she was bare and his breath caught as he laid his eyes upon her nakedness. He saw her swallow self consciously, as if she was uncertain that she would be all that he had expected. He paused a moment, his blue eyes gleaming with hunger before he lowered himself to captured one tight bud in his mouth and suckle gently. Her reaction was immediate. Her body languidly arched against him, her nails racking into his back and he swirled his tongue around the erect tissue.

Melia was gasping. Her entire body was caught in a wave of fire as she felt that insistent mouth tugging at her hardened nipple while his hand kneaded the other hard. She closed her eyes shut, lost in sensation as her fingers unconsciously tore at his clothes, desiring to feel his skin as sensuously as he was tasting her. Lowering her head, her lips reached his ear and her tongue traced a line against the ridge. She knew that it pleased him because he groaned slightly and then resumed his assault upon her breasts with even more fervor. It was becoming hard to concentrate on what she was doing as she continued to tantalize that tender piece of flesh, aware that each sensation she made him experience was one she would have to endure herself. She could feel the heat between her legs, the moistening of her inside in anticipation of how he would feel when they were ready to join.

"Oh Prince," she muttered caressing his hair with one hand as she felt his teeth graze her nipple.

Suddenly, she pulled him away from her breast and made herself face him. Legolas stared at her in puzzlement before she pressed her mouth against his in passion and slowly turned him around, so that he would be standing with his back against the wall and not her. He stared at her for a moment, wondering what she was about when suddenly, she began to free the buttons of his tunic, exposing his smooth chest. He swallowed thickly as he watched her mouth begin to work on him as mercilessly as he had done to her. Her tongue was creating fire with each flick against his skin. Legolas closed her eyes as he felt her hot breath moving down his chest, alternating between kisses and gentle nips that made him moan softly in pleasure. Her hair was brushing against his stomach and he was so hard he could barely think. He looked at her and saw a smile cross her lips as she reached the band of his breeches. Her eyes clouded over in mischief as her fingers slipped past the fabric and she thumbed the skin there with clear indication of what he was about to receive.

Legolas started to pant as he rested his head against the wall, his hand stroking her hair as he felt her pull the breeches down his legs and expose his more private parts to her ministrations. He closed his eyes as he felt her warm breath move over his length, now thick and weeping with need. He wanted to tell her she did not have to show him pleasure that way for he knew some women were uncomfortable with such displays but any consideration of the sort was driven from his mind when he felt her hands around his shaft. He let out a pleasured sigh as her smooth palm ran up and down his length. His fingers began to entwined in her luxurious hair as her breath drew closer to his hardened flesh, driving the reason further and further from his mind.

Legolas knew he had completely lost all coherent thought when she enveloped him in her mouth. The sensation of wet, velvet heat over him was enough to force a strangled gasp from his lips. His entire body became slave to her mouth, until his hips started to thrust gently into the tight ring of flesh that encased him. She was ruthless as she suckled him hard and insistently, her tongue laving the heavy shaft before culminating in warm pressure against the head. He felt her explore the slit and swirl her tongue over the tip, until he was moaning so loudly, it did not seem seemingly that any man or elf should cry out this way. However, at that instant, he was beyond caring about anything except what sweet pleasure her sensuous mouth was affording him.

"Melia!" He uttered a low growl, unaware that he had done it until the words had him. He could feel it building inside of him, the need to release himself into that warm mouth. His hands were grasping her hair as he thrusted gently, wanting her to finish him. He could not stand to be away from the incredible pleasure she was making him endure. However, he did not want their first coupling to end like this no matter how much he loved the way she was making him feel. Legolas knew that if he did not bid her to stop, she would most likely bring him to his peak and he wanted to be inside her when he succumbed.

"Stop, I cannot endure if you continue, " he pleaded breathlessly before pulling her up so that they could take the final journey together.

When her mouth left him, he thought he might die from the loss of such exquisite pleasure. However, all the cessation of her oral manipulations had done was to make his passion for her a brutal frenzy and as soon as their eyes met, his mouth devoured hers again. This time, he gave no quarter as he pulled what remained of her dress down her body until it had pooled at her feet. He stared at her completely naked, hunger filling every fibre of him as he studied her flesh as though he had never seen anything more perfect. What reservations there were between them were now gone and he slid his arms over her smooth back, before exchanging their positions again.

She stared at him with some measure of apprehension because there was an almost feral look in his eyes when she was pressed up against the wall with nowhere to run. His hand slid in between her thighs, knuckles grazing the tender flesh as he grasped her leg and hooked it over his hip. For an instant, their eyes met as she felt his shaft poised against her moist entrance. There was a look of wonder in his eyes as if he could not believe that they were here at this moment. For so long they had wanted each other and now they stood on the periphery of something that would change them both forever once they stepped over its edge. It was more than just physical pleasure, it was an emotional bonding.

"Are you sure you want this?" She gasped, thinking she would die if he were to come to his senses at long last.

He answered her by sliding deep into her body with one hard brutal stroke. Melia arched at the penetration, her hands wrapping themselvs around his back as he pushed inside her. Legolas let out a soft groan upon being enveloped by her warmth, unable to believe that the pleasure of her mouth could be superseded by the ecstasy of her body.

Sweet Eru, he never thought, never imagined, it could feel like this.

He was forced to close his eyes and bite down when he felt waves of sensation reverberating throughout him upon sliding into of her. Warm suction coerced him deeper with promises of agonizing pleasure as he pulled the leg hooked over his hip even closer until his fingers were digging into her flesh from the unbelievable pleasure of the deep penetration. Bracing himself with his other hand against the wall, it was all he could do to keep from crying out. The sheer intensity strangling his hardness was beyond endurance and he panted in quick short breaths as he accustomed himself to being inside her. Melia’s nails were raking across his back causing sweet pleasure in midst the pain.

"So tight," he muttered huskily into her hair, "so tight."

Legolas filled Melia like no one had ever filled her and she knew that she would go to her death, never wanting anyone else but him. He had not even begun to move and yet he was sending her spiraling into a whirlwind of sensation that was forcing all sense from her mind. She loved the smell of him in her lungs, the taste of him on her lips and the incredible fulfillment of knowing that he loved her and would continue to do so long after she was gone from this world. Even in death, she would know immortality in his heart.

"I love you Prince," she whispered in his ear just before she neared to nuzzle it.

Legolas met her gaze long enough for Melia to see that despite being caught in the physical pleasure of their union, he was not so lost that he could not appreciate the significance of her words. His blue eyes sparkled like sun bouncing off the ocean and a smile rolled across his lips before the passion of the their coupling overcame him and he began to move.

"Forever." He whispered as he punctuated each word with a long, hard stroke. "Until all things are done, Melia. No matter what you believe."

It did not take them long to develop a rhythm though they knew that neither would last as long as they would like. The sensations bombarding them were beyond their ability to endure for long. When Legolas had seen her crouched before him, with her warm lips and talented tongue delivering nerve shattering pleasure, he did not think that pleasure could be surpassed but he was wrong. Thrusting into her warmth, feeling her inner muscles tighten around him the more and more frenzied their lovemaking became, Legolas knew he was poised on the edge of something that would tear the soul from his body. Since meeting her, he had dreamed of this moment. Now that it was here and it was far sweeter than anything he might have imagined.

"Legolas!" Melia cried out as his pace increased and he was starting to pound into her relentlessly, every ounce of pent up desire finally finding its expression in masterfully delivered strokes of pleasure. Her insides were inflamed with incredible sensation and when she saw him pushing into her, the muscles of his bare chest glistening as it rubbed against her breasts, she felt a surge of lust for him that almost rivaled the lust in which he was taking her. Her hands found her way to his and Legolas pressed them against the wall, his palm clenched around hers in equal strength, as they were both gripped in the throes of unrelenting ecstasy.

"Do not stop my Prince!" She whimpered as she neared the threshold.

Melia was soaring higher and higher with each hard thrust of him into her, until she could hardly breathe for the pleasure of it. It had been so long since anyone had been able to make her feel so much. She had longed in her secret dreams to find that one person with whom she could share her desires and her soul, who would look into her heart and captured it the way she wanted. She never imagined the one to do so would be an elven prince. Melia could feel the approach of her release; it was like the sunrise in the horizon, filling her with warmth and heat, until she could see nothing else but its sheer brilliance.

Legolas could not form the thoughts to speak because he was now a creature of pure instinct and raw need. His jaw clenched as beads of sweat ran down his forehead and a fine sheen of moisture formed against his skin. He continued to move, feeling his breath shallow and sensing by the tension in her body as she neared the place he wished her to be. Suddenly, Melia’s muscles clenched around him and her fingers dug into his hands, giving him pain that only increased the excitement that ensnared him. He felt her release as it washed over his length like warm honey, oozing into his skin and increasing his pleasure until all he could do was open his mouth to groan.

Melia brushed her lips against his ear, suckled the pointed tips and felt the last vestiges of his control snap with that one act. His face melted and she decided that he never looked more beautiful then at this moment, when he had utterly lost control of himself and was finally about to yield to the beautiful symphony of sensual music they had created together. Feeling her lips upon his ear undid any control that remained and he slipped over the edge, drawn into a chasm of color and ecstasy.

"Melia!" Legolas cried hoarsely, pumping his seed into her with powerfully hard strokes, forcing every drop of himself into the deepest crevices of her body. It was like his soul had been freed, not simply his passion. Everything around him seemed to spin as his body shuddered in the wake of its satisfying release. His hands clenched around her as he began his descent, gasping in short breaths as he continued to thrust, determined to savor every bit of pleasure he could from this soul crushing eruption of delightful slick, warm heat.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear as he lay against her, exhausted and spent, knowing in his heart that while nothing had been resolved between them, everything else had changed.

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