Instead of going directly back to our flets after breakfast, Legolas and I opted to walk around Lothlòrien for awhile before subjecting ourselves to Cellinneth's torture.

We walked in companionable silence for awhile, slowly climbing and descending the never-ending stairs leading the path over massive protruding mallorn roots. It wasn't long before my ribs were throbbing, and Legolas was leaning on his walking stick more than ever. So when we noticed a small path branching off to a garden, no discussion was needed for us to head that direction.

Plants on either side of the path gave the illusion we'd strayed into a child's maze. Or perhaps we had—I couldn't tell. At length, we reached a small clearing. At the center stood a wrought-iron birdbath, elegantly fashioned and standing proud. Around the edges of the clearing were scattered a few carved wooden benches. Legolas and I walked to the nearest one and sat down.

I'd heard this length of bench described before as a lovers' seat—just wide enough for two people to sit side-by-side. Legolas didn't seem put off by the lack of distance between us, so I settled in at his side without complaint. My mind strayed to our odd and unsettling breakfast with Lady Galadriel.

"Legolas," I said suddenly, "what did Galadriel say to you?"

He raised a dark eyebrow at me, and smirking a little, he said, "Do you make a habit of immediately asking others their confidential affairs?"

"Of course not. Well..." I looked away. "Unless it's something I think I ought to know."

"And what makes you think this is something you ought to know?" Legolas smoothly replied.

I frowned. "I just...got that impression." I met his gaze. "Is it?"

He gave a half-smile and turned to look at the surrounding flora. "The Lady informed me that there is much about you that I do not yet know."

I wasn't sure how to respond, and the following silence was uncomfortable.

Finally, Legolas said, "And what of your conversation with Lady Galadriel? You seemed greatly interested in me for awhile."

Heat rose in my cheeks, and I stared straight ahead. "I was trying to block her," I mumbled.

"And did you find the exercise enjoyable?" Legolas's tone was far too close to laughter.

I shot him a humorless glare, which elicited a chuckle from him. Eru, was I that transparent? Finally, I answered, "It could've been worse."

"Hmm." Legolas frowned at that, but playfully. Then he lazily draped an arm across the back of the bench, behind my shoulders, not touching me. "And what did she say to you? You appeared rather distraught." His teasing had disappeared, and he gazed at me concernedly.

I looked away, uncomfortable with the intensity of his gaze. "She knows about me. About who I am, where I'm from, what I've done..." While I'd never told any one person everything, if Galadriel wanted to blackmail the Mordor out of me, she would've had no lack of material or knowledge to do so. A shiver crawled up my spine, fleshing out into goosebumps where the dress's neckline failed to cover my neck and shoulders.

Legolas's hand gingerly touched my right shoulder, his fingertips grazing my skin. His other hand clasped my uninjured shoulder, and he said, "She is not angry with you...?" It came out more as a question.

I swallowed hard and shook my head. "No. It's just—she's so powerful. It frightened me all those years ago...but now I'm terrified."

A small grin lifted Legolas's features, and he said, "It would seem, proper fear is a mark of maturity. At least in you."

I snorted. "Sad, but true." I heard the edge of bitterness in my own tone, and I was just as surprised by it as Legolas.

"Why sad?" he questioned softly.

I glanced up, and was suddenly trapped in his dangerously blue gaze. And with a sinking sensation in my stomach, I realized what I was feeling. And, as unbecoming as my language could be at times, there was one four-letter word I couldn't afford to add to my vocabulary.

As well as a particular five-letter word Elladan had spat in my face not so long ago.

Legolas's fingers gently lifted my chin, guiding me to face him. Concern was written in his expression. "Why sad, mellon nin?"

A single tear streamed down my cheek before I could attempt to stop or hide it. "Because I only fear what I've been burned by," I whispered brokenly.

Sympathy swam around in Legolas's eyes. Reluctantly, he withdrew his fingers from my chin, revealing that my tear had rolled onto his forefinger. With his thumb, he stroked away the remaining trail of moisture from my cheek. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead on mine. "How else can gold be refined, Eda?" he whispered, his voice a mere breath.

"I see she has you calling her by her human name."

I startled, trying to pull away as Haldir stepped out from behind a trellis, but Legolas held me close. The marchwarden crossed his arms across his broad chest and glared down at us. Mordor, how much had he heard?

Legolas lifted his head from mine and turned to face Haldir. A long moment of silence passed between them, with Legolas openly sizing up the intruder. Finally, he said, "Actually, the name is Dwarvish. Though the mistake is an easy one to make for any who did not know."

Haldir sneered. "Then you know of her shame."

Legolas casually raised an eyebrow. "That she is half-Elven and half-Dwarvish? Yes."

"This is but one fact she hides so diligently." Haldir's eyes darkened. "Amariel conceals the truth beneath a cloak of darkness and conceit."

Legolas's cool hand clasped mine, and he said indignantly, "Eda reveals what she will, and I do not pry. Likewise, I hardly see what business it is of yours."

Old hatred lit in Haldir's eyes, and fixing me in his glare, he murmured, "Did she tell you of how she used my brother? How, upon her departure, she nearly stole his Light?" Haldir's voice dropped to a menacing growl. "Did she tell you that, even now, he struggles to remain within Arda? How his heart yearns for Valinor?"

I averted my gaze, with no defense. No excuses, no one to blame...nothing. I had earned every one of Haldir's bitter accusations.

"The latter, it seems, would be your brother's tale to tell," Legolas returned coolly. "As for the former, I may be mistaken, but I don't believe it ever came up."

I blinked, still avoiding Haldir's hateful gaze. Why was Legolas defending me? And over something he knew nothing about. Assuming, of course, that Galadriel had kept her promise and not told him. And lying seemed rather underhanded for an elleth as powerful as she.

"You are mistaken," Haldir replied, his tone as smooth as snakeskin, "though perhaps not in this."

Legolas's strong fingers squeezed my hand. I glanced up at him, catching his passing glance for a moment. His eyes betrayed his concern and doubt; he knew he was venturing into foreign territory. Determination hardening his gaze, he turned to Haldir. "I do not understand your snide remarks thus encrypted. Unless you wish to speak senselessly with yourself, say what you will straightforwardly, so that I may answer."

Haldir slid me a venomous glance, then turned to Legolas, straightening to his full height. "I speak as one ellon to another, having once been where you are now." His tone had turned lofty, and he gazed down his nose at us, much as an older child would to a toddler.

"Then speak," Legolas said, his voice dangerously soft.

This prompted a smirk from Haldir. "Everything that Amariel does, she does for herself. Do not trust her with your heart, as Rùmil so foolishly did. For that, too, she will use for her own devices."

With a haughty flourish, Haldir swept out of the garden, leaving me alone with Legolas and history I would do anything to rewrite.

A weighty silence pressed in on us. I expected Legolas to break our contact and begin interrogating me. The wait was agonizing. Finally, he turned our clasped hands over so that mine was on top, and he placed his other hand over that. He took a deep breath, then released it. Another deep breath then, "Amariel?"

Chills ran down my spine, and longing bloomed deep within my stomach. He'd said my name. My Elvish name.

And it was beautiful.

I closed my eyes, mentally squashing down the fuzzy feelings. "Yes," I said, avoiding his gaze. "That's what my mother named me."

"'Daughter of the earth'," he translated in a thoughtful murmur. Reaching up to my face, he took a stray curl that had fallen out of Cellinneth's masterpiece and tucked it behind my ear. "She named you well," he said. "For as the Elves rule the land and forests above the earth, so the Dwarves rule the land and treasures beneath."

There was something startlingly kind in Legolas's tone that convinced me to meet his gaze. Steady blue eyes silently communicated that I had nothing to fear from him.

Tears pooled in my eyes. "Oh Legolas!" I burst out, yanking my hand from his and throwing my good arm around his neck. Burying my eyes into his shoulder, I sobbed.

I was vaguely aware that he tensed at my sudden outburst. Then, slowly, Legolas relaxed and put his arms around me. "Shh," he whispered, rubbing my back soothingly. He said nothing else, just held me in silence until the tsunami had passed.

Finally, I swallowed and took a deep, shuddery breath. Mordor, why had I let myself go to pieces like that? I couldn't afford to keep letting my heart speak for my head. And, Eru, this was embarrassing. I pulled away, noticing the darkened spot on the shoulder of Legolas's tunic. Wiping my eyes with my sleeve, I muttered, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Legolas replied gently. "I would be concerned if you showed no remorse at Haldir's dire accusations."

My heart fluttered, but I forcibly stamped the sentiment out of my mind. I would learn to control my feelings. If I had to burn my heart out of my chest, I would command these cursed feelings spinning around in my otherwise-empty head.

Legolas touched my cheek, drawing my gaze back. "Let's go back to our flets. You're tired, as am I, and I'm sure an afternoon of rest would be beneficial for both of us."

I didn't answer immediately, instead closing my eyes and focusing on his touch—what it did to me. The pathetic warmth in my belly trying to melt me from the inside out. I took a long, deep breath and willfully forced the emotion from my mind.

"Eda?"

Finally, his touch did nothing but send a mild tingle across my cheek. I opened my eyes, mentally driving my runaway heart into the corner and feeling nothing as I met Legolas's worried gaze.

"Yes." My voice was startlingly distant, even to my own ears. But I did nothing to change it. "Let's."

Legolas frowned slightly, but said nothing as he took his walking stick and stood. I followed his example, and when he offered his arm to me, I took it, satisfied at my body's lack of reaction.

No words passed between us as we slowly made our way back to the mallorn tree of healing rooms. Nor was our silence comfortable, as it usually was. Legolas's occasional side-glances were concerned and questioning, and I didn't have the inclination or courage to explain myself. I was just grateful he didn't ask.

When we had finally climbed the many stairs to my flet, Legolas stopped and turned to face me. He placed his long fingers under my chin, drawing my reluctant gaze up to his face. "I hope we may speak again soon," he said simply, looking deep into my eyes.

I looked away, backing away from his touch. And while my heart cried out from solitary confinement, my mind congratulated me in this simple victory. "Of course," I replied quietly, but without emotion.

Legolas hesitated, and I could feel his gaze sweeping over me. Looking for the cause of my sudden change in behavior. Finally, he gave a single nod and continued limping up the stairs to his own flet.

I allowed myself three seconds of watching him leave. Then I turned away and entered the single-room flet I'd been assigned.

I pushed the door shut behind me, then leaned back against it. Fresh tears rose in my eyes, spilling over unchecked. It hardly mattered now. I was alone in an empty room. And even if the room were filled with people, Eru knew I'd still be alone. I always had been.

I closed my eyes, pushing out more tears. Feeling their heat, and the chill they left in their wake. Something about this place, this mysterious wood, completely stripped me of my defenses. Reminded me of a side of me I'd buried thirty years ago.

A little girl that had never known the love of a parent of the comforts of a home.