Legolas's POV

I swallowed hard, but it did nothing to stem the tears beginning to stream down my cheeks.

She was gone.

Two children stood in the doorway, disbelief in their eyes as they took in the scene. The boy I recognized from earlier; the young woman was unfamiliar.

"What have you done!?" she screamed, stepping forward.

Her brother grabbed her arm. "No, Kèolyn, don't!"

She threw her younger brother off, fury filling her brown eyes. Eyes like Amina's. But harder. Colder. Angrier. "You will pay for this, Elf scum," she growled, stepping forward.

Boromir ran in, skidding to a halt behind the other girl. She whirled to attack him with her bare hands, but he wrapped his arms around her, locking her into place and pinning her hands against his chest. Even as she screamed at him, struggled, kicked at his shins, he looked at me and said calmly, "Legolas. Go."

My eyes drifted back to the motionless little girl in my arms, and reluctantly, I stood and reverently set her body on the cot. Her eyes were already closed, and a peaceful smile graced her lips.

It wasn't fair.

Mortality wasn't fair.

"Legolas!" Boromir snapped. The woman he restrained was still fighting him, still struggling to be freed.

There was something of that within me. An animal that had to be uncaged. I had to be alone. I had to grieve alone. Without a backward glance, I fled from the so-called house of healing.

I didn't stop until I had climbed a hill and descended the opposite side, and could no longer see the accursed village and its accursed mortals.

I screamed. Fell to my knees and let my tears fall, listening to my voice echo over the plains. I'd known of mortality all my life, but never seen its cruelty. I'd practically watched Aragorn grow up, but never stopped to think that someday he would grow old, wither, and die.

I suppose I'd always believed I would sail to the Undying Lands before that happened.

I don't know how long I stayed out there. I could have used the sun to track the time passing, but I cared not for minutes or hours. For that was the curse of the Elves—hours blurred into days and years and centuries, and while all else changed, we rarely did. Content to turn a blind eye to the coldness of mortality, we hid away in our homelands and forgot the troubles of others.

By the Valar—we were as bad as the Dwarves.

After what seemed an eternity, but was only a few minutes, footsteps rustled through the grass. Too broken to attempt hiding my tears, I turned to face Faèola.

Her brow furrowed in understanding, and she murmured, "Amina's passing is hard to accept."

"She deserved to live," I choked out. "She deserved a long life with much happiness, far away from this festering orchole."

A moment of silence, then, "She did."

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. How had I gotten so attached to the child? I had only known her for less than a day. "How many times have you witnessed mortality?" I whispered. "How many times have you seen the Valar steal a life?"

"More times than I can count," she answered softly.

"And does it get easier?" I asked bitterly.

"No." Faèola's footsteps came closer, until her hand rested on my shoulder. "But you learn to accept it, to move on. And you learn to never waste a moment with the people you love."

The people I love. Who did I love? My father and sister, of course, though resentment followed with the very thought of them. Aragorn, as the only true friend I had ever known. Tauriel, though she had never returned my love.

And Eda.

"The girl you brought..." Faèola said carefully. "Though she may not be human, she is still mortal."

"Eda is my responsibility," I interrupted. "I loved her mother, though she loved another."

"You lie," Faèola stated, booking no argument. "To yourself, as well as to me. Perhaps your words are true, but the pretense that you care for her only as a daughter is false."

I struggled to justify the pretense in my own mind. But once revealed, such things can never be hidden again.

Was it true? Was I...in love...with Eda?

But while my mind struggled, my heart knew the truth.

I was.

"Eda is dying," Faèola said gently. At my sharp look, she held her hand up. "Her wound is healing—far better than I'd even hoped. But she is still mortal. And unless you are killed in battle...you will outlive her."

Fresh tears swam in my eyes, spilling over. Had I realized my own love for Eda, only to have it torn away from me again?

"She is awake, and asking for you." Faèola squeezed my shoulder. "You know what you must do."

I looked up at the healer, into her wise, kind eyes. Would I set sail for Valinor, pretending it had all been a bad dream? Or would I dare to love again? I could walk away, deny my feelings and hide myself from the pain. Or I could make the most of what love had to offer, understanding that love came with a price, and embracing both will all my heart.

And again, while my mind fought for control and over-analyzed, my heart already knew the path that my feet would tread. I leaped to my feet and took off running, back to the village.

Back to Eda.

Eda's POV

I squirmed on the wretched cot, wincing as my ribs gave a sharp throb. I swear, the floor would probably be more comfortable. And Illùvatar, I needed to stop waking up like this!

Drumming my fingers on the threadbare blanket, I looked around the little screened-in area, waiting for that woman to come back with Legolas. It kinda surprised me that Legolas had strayed that far, being my new self-appointed father and all.

Outside the building somewhere, chickens squawked indignantly, and footsteps pounded inside. Then Legolas slipped past the screen and stood staring at me.

I'd never seen any Elf as disheveled as Legolas was. His face was slick with tears, and the whites of his eyes were red, contrasting with his luminous blue irises. His hair was tangled, his clothes were wrinkled, and there were grass stains on his trousers.

"Legolas!" I exclaimed, struggling to sit up more than the pillows propping me up would allow. "What happened? Is something wro—"

In one long stride, he crossed the distance between us and claimed my mouth with his own.

Shock froze my entire body. Legolas's lips moved tenderly over mine, and his hands came up to cup my cheeks.

By the Valar, if this was a dream—! They would pay. But until then, I released my heart and kissed the Elf back.

My fingers curled around his tunic, pulling him down to me. He withdrew his hands and curled his arms around my back, pressing me against his chest and deepening our kiss. Pinned between our bodies, my hand pressed into my side, and I gave a sharp gasp.

Legolas jumped away, his eyes wide. "Forgive me, I'm being hasty. You need time, I understand; we'll go slowly until you're comfortable—"

"Legolas?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"—I know it's a lot to take in, but please, you mean so much to me and I can't stand the thought of losing you without you knowing how I feel—"

"Legolas!" I grabbed his earlobes and pulled him down so that his forehead rested on mine. "Shut up, and tell me what's going on."

He swallowed hard, then closed his eyes and sighed. His breath washed over my face and neck, and I suppressed a shiver. "I love you, Eda," he whispered. A tear rolled over his cheek, dripping onto me. "I didn't understand it, so I tried to rationalize it. But...we don't have time for that."

There was a brokenness in his voice, a new level of vulnerability I had never seen in him before. I pulled him down into a gentle kiss, then released his ears and ran my fingers through his silky hair. "We have time, Legolas, I promise," I murmured. "I don't think I've even come of age yet."

Legolas met my gaze. "What do you mean, you don't think? Do you not know your own age?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I know my own age. But, who's to say when a half-Elf, half-Dwarf comes of age?"

Frowning a little, Legolas said, "How old are you?"

"Fifty-nine," I replied.

A grin crossed his face, hinting at a nearly-forgotten impish side. "Then you'll come of age when you turn sixty."

I giggled, then winced at the throb in my lung.

Legolas pulled back, frowning. "Am I hurting you?"

"No," I said, grabbing his sleeve. "It hurts anyway; please don't go."

"Alright," Legolas murmured soothingly. "I won't." He kicked off his boots, then carefully stretched out beside me, lying on his side. He rested his head beside mine, and I couldn't help but stare into his stunning blue eyes.

At length, I murmured absently, "Are you comfortable like that?"

"I'm with you," he said, giving me a content smile. "I would not be happy anywhere else."

I smiled as well. I couldn't remember any time I had felt so valued. "Legolas?"

"Hmm?"

"There's something you ought to know about me."

He sat up, a slight furrow appeared between his eyebrows. "What is it?"

I smiled again, losing myself in his swirling blue gaze. "I love you, too."

Legolas closed his eyes, an expression of joy overwhelming his features. He placed an adoring kiss on my eyebrow, his touch lingering a moment longer than necessary.

I had never been this happy.