We set out again the next day at first light. I was intensely sore from all the riding yesterday, and mounting Arod again today was torture.

Legolas didn't say anything. He didn't say anything last night, either. He was furious at me for some reason, and too gentleellonly to express it. His expression remained a perfect mask of neutrality, and I hated it.

I considered taking my complaints to Faèola, since she struck me as the motherly type. But that would involve getting Legolas to let me down off Arod, and besides, Faèola kept busy taking care of all the villagers. I got the feeling she was the unofficial village leader.

So between my stupid ribs throbbing with every step that stupid horse took, and the stupid saddle rubbing against my stupid legs with that stupidly hot elf sitting behind me...I lasted until about noon before I exploded with frustration.

"Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you."

"Well I think you are," I quipped back. "Why else won't you talk to me?"

"Maybe I have nothing to say."

"I'll bet you have a lot to say."

"Perhaps, but not to you."

"To who then?" I yelled. "My mother?"

Legolas tensed and didn't respond. He didn't say anything else for the remainder of the ride.

So when Edoras came into view—just a bunch of wooden houses built onto a sharp, rocky hill with a fence surrounding it—I breathed a sigh of relief. Large mounds lined the path on either side, dotted with tiny white flowers. And standing before one of these mounds was a man wearing a crown...and a tall figure dressed in all white, carrying a white staff.

I tensed. "Saruman?" I whispered.

Legolas gave a sharp gasp. "Mithrandir!"

"What?" I cried. "Lemme down!"

Legolas dismounted and gently pulled me from the saddle. Holding my stinging ribs, I stumbled to Gandalf the Gray as quickly as I could. Only...he wasn't so gray anymore. I didn't care, and I threw my arms around him the moment I reached him.

"Gandalf! You stupid old wizard, you're supposed to be dead!" I wailed, too happy that he wasn't to be angry.

He chuckled, his deep voice ever soothing, and he placed a gentle hand on my head. "My dear Amariel." A pause. "I see you are well, Legolas." I scoffed. Well isn't the word I'd use to describe Legolas and his latest sulking session. Gandalf patted my head—somehow I interpreted the gesture as shut up—and he added, "I see Boromir is still with us, as well. Good."

"Gandalf," the other Man interjected.

I pulled back and eyed him. Comfortably middle-aged with shoulder-length blond hair, he held an air of authority despite his red eyes and moist cheeks.

He met my gaze for a moment, then continued to address Gandalf. "I would seek your council regarding this exodus. You, and your companions."

"Of course," Gandalf said. "Amariel, Legolas, Boromir—come."

"Mithrandir," Legolas cut in sharply. "Boromir has no place in such a council. He has lost all honor."

A frown deepened the lines in Gandalf's face as he shifted his gaze to Boromir. "Is this true?"

Boromir lowered his gaze. "It is true," he murmured meekly.

"Gandalf," The other Man said, frowning. "A Gondorian, I would accept in my halls; our alliance hangs by a thread, but I would not disregard it for an honorable man. But I do not wish any dishonorable being in my council."

"Boromir is a steadfast man, and loyal to our cause," Gandalf argued. "I would not cast him aside so easily, Thèoden."

At the reference to the Man's name, the villagers began to murmur, kneeling almost as one. Whoops. I guess this guy was the king. But Gandalf did not kneel, nor did Legolas. So I stayed standing, too. Thèoden glanced at me, his gaze lingering for a moment. I grinned and waved.

"Gandalf," Boromir murmured, kneeling with the rest. "I will remain outside and assist Faèola. I wish no trouble."

Gandalf hesitated at Boromir's easy compliance, but nodded. "We will rejoin shortly."

Thèoden turned and began walking up the incline and into Edoras, and Gandalf followed, placing his hand on my back to guide me. Still a little teary-eyed that he was alive, I grinned up at him, and he returned a smile of his own.

"You survived your fall in Moria," he mused. "And Legolas as well. How?"

I frowned, biting my lip. This brought up a good question; how much did Gandalf really know about me? "About that," I mumbled. "Umm...do you know the meaning behind my name? My Elvish name?"

Another wry smile. "Yes. And I have spoken to Galadriel."

Ugh, it was official, Galadriel was the biggest gossip this side of Valinor. "Well," I continued awkwardly, "Well, that's how I survived. And Legolas landed on top of me."

"What!?" Legolas snapped.

Gandalf turned to glance over his shoulder, his expression openly amused. "Do you disapprove, Thranduilion?"

I smirked at the use of Legolas's surname.

"I didn't land on top of her," Legolas argued. "When I woke up, she was sitting beside me."

"Oh, so you didn't have your face in my lap for the fun of it?" I retorted.

Gandalf patted my shoulder. "Hush, Amariel. The elfling can only handle so much."

At Legolas's enraged sputter, I flashed him a smug grin. Oh, how I liked the new Gandalf.

We walked in silence until we reached the center and topmost of Edoras—the king's hall. "Hàma," Thèoden called, and a heavyset man came bustling out of a corridor.

"Yes, Sire?"

"Villagers from the Westfold have migrated to Edoras. I will take council regarding this matter; find them a representitive and bring him here."

Hàma bowed. "Yes, Sire." And he bustled out of the hall.

"Eda!" Aragorn exclaimed, appearing from the corridor and running over to me. I threw my around his neck as he leaned down to hug me. "How are you feeling?" he murmured.

"A bit frustrated," I replied honestly, keeping my tone down so only Aragorn—and Mr. Elfears, of course—could hear me. "Legolas got his head stuck up his jacksie and he can't seem to get it out."

Aragorn began sniggering, and straightening up, he said, "I'll see what I can do."

I snuck a glance at Legolas. He was glowering at me, entirely unamused. Predictable.

Just then, another woman entered the hall. She was dressed like nobility for this people, and she moved with the purpose of a warrior. A warrior in a dress. Her eyes immediately rested on Aragorn, then fell to me, and she frowned a little.

"Èowyn," Thèoden said, drawing the woman's attention to him. "Have a meal prepared. These travellers look as though they have not eaten properly in many days."

"Did I hear something about food?" came a gruff voice, and Gimli walked in. His eyes lit up when he saw us, and he bellowed, "Ye made it! Oh bless ye—" Clunking across the wooden floors, he passed right by Legolas and wrapped me in a gentle hug. Suddenly, he froze, backed away, and bowed at the waist. "My Lady."

"Gimli." I sighed. "Please, don't call me that."

"Of course, my...Yer...Yer Magnificence...?" He frowned. "I'm afraid I'm running out of complimentary titles."

Rolling my eyes, I said, "What happened to good old regular Eda?" At his hesitant look, I added, "You're my friend, Gimli. And friends don't call friends Your Magnificence. It's ridiculous."

Gimli's eyes misted, and he sniffed. "Bless ye, Eda, bless ye." He moved in and gave me another hug.

I smirked over his head at Legolas, who was staring at us, looking rather peeved. "'Yer Magnificence'," he quipped scornfully, attempting to mimic Gimli's rough brogue, and failing. "I saved your life, Dwarf, yet you run past me to worship 'Her Magnificence'."

Gimli spun to face Legolas, his hand tightening on his axe. "That's because, last time I checked, ye ain't no queen."

Thèoden and Èowyn exchanged an uncertain glance.

I laid a hand on Gimli's shoulder. "He's a bloody good princess, though," I deadpanned. "Absolutely gorgeous in a tiara." I clutched my heart in a mock swoon. "I can see it now! Princess Leggy...all beautified and...bloomy."

Legolas's face flushed furiously, and he opened his mouth to respond, but Aragorn cut him off.

"Legolas, Eda, come with me please."

Oh goodness. I didn't want him to lecture both of us! But I reluctantly shuffled after Aragorn as he headed for the corridor he'd arrived from. I sensed Legolas trailing along behind, but I didn't acknowledge him. He didn't deserve it.

Aragorn went through an open door and motioned us into the humble room. A humble bed adorned the far corner, and a wooden table sat beside it, holding a half-burned candle. Aragorn's supply packs leaned against the wall, and his cloak was draped over the bedpost.

Closing the door behind us, he said, "Sit."

Since the bed was the only seatable piece of furniture in the room, I plopped down on it, preparing myself for a long lecture. Legolas looked down his nose at me, then moved to stand in the corner.

"You too, Legolas. On the bed."

Legolas flashed Aragorn an unappreciative glare, but obeyed, carefully avoiding physical contact.

Aragorn crossed his arms. "Good. Now. The last night I saw you two together, you, Eda, were dying, and you, Legolas, sang for the first time in Valar-know-how-many years to keep her from hurting herself."

I snuck a glance at Legolas. He sang to me? Eru, why couldn't he have done that when I was around to hear it!?

"The night before that," Aragorn continued, "you, Legolas, offered to let Eda sleep with you. You, Eda, claimed you wanted personal space. And halfway through my watch, you, Legolas, changed her mind with very little effort."

"Well I had to do something," Legolas groused. "She would have drawn the Uruks right to us, with her teeth rattling like a child's playtoy."

My flace flushed in anger. That was an excuse, and he knew it.

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "My point is, Legolas, Eda, you're mad at each other. And I want to know why."

Neither of us spoke.

"Okay then," Aragorn said. "What happened after we parted ways? Eda, you tell me first."

I crossed my arms over my middle, suddenly feeling awkward. "Well, umm...I woke up in a healing room. Legolas wasn't there, so I made the nurse go get him. When he came in, he didn't say anything, he just..." I blushed. "Kissed me."

Both of Aragorn's eyebrows went up at that, but not in surprise. More like amusement. "'Bout time," he muttered. "What happened next?"

I sighed. "Well, then these kids came riding through the village like all Mordor had broken loose, and—"

"No no no," Legolas snapped, "she's leaving everything out! Like how she started spouting random phrases of doom. In Ancient Quenya." Legolas threw his hands up in frustration. "How in Morgoth's name does Eda know Ancient Quenya!?"

I rolled my eyes. "Legolas. Please. Language."

Aragorn frowned. "Do you care to explain yourself, Eda?"

I sighed. "Okay, so, you know how orcs are so disgusting, the earth itself despises them and whatnot?"

They blinked at me. Oh, the intelligence of malekind. Or lack thereof.

I facepalmed. "I'll pretend that was a yes. Well, I'm like the opposite. Arda likes me, because I'm half-Dwarf, half-Elf. I guess. So yeah, I asked what the matter was, and it said 'tùla nortor'—"

"Does this truly not upset you!?" Legolas exclaimed. "She talks to the earth. My adar cannot even do that, and you know how closely he's tied to Arda!"

Aragorn brought the knuckle his forefinger to his lips, the way he did when he was deep in thought. "To the contrary, I am thoroughly intrigued. So rather than getting your tiara in a twist, Legolas, I would recommend you belt up and let the girl talk."

I flashed Legolas a smirk, then continued. "It was only those two words. And I had to ask the princess here to translate, because against common belief, I do not know Ancient Quenya."

Nodding, Aragorn said, "What happened after that?"

"Legolas got all mad! He stopped talking to me for no reason, and I just don't get it. He kisses me one morning, and hates me that afternoon." Sudden tears poked at my eyes, and scowling, I muttered, "Story of my life, I guess."

There was a quiet pause, then Aragorn said, "Legolas, it's your turn to speak now. Tell me what happened in your own words."

Legolas sighed, but it wasn't angry, or really even frustrated. It was sad. "I wasn't thinking straight, when I kissed her," he muttered.

I gritted my teeth, refusing to cry. Legolas wasn't worth my tears. None of them were. Good Eru, I was going to die a virgin.

"I watched a mortal die, earlier that morning," Legolas continued softly. "She was a mere child, born weak and bound to die sooner or later. But...it was sooner. And I watched." He paused to swallow, then his voice returned to cold and uncaring. "I became afraid that I would lose Eda, thinking that perhaps I would blink and she too would be gone. And in my fear, I acted hastily."

Aragorn sighed. "Wow. That was...romantic."

"Not," I muttered darkly.

"As for me not feeling like an everyday chatterbox," Legolas continued sharply, "perhaps it didn't occur to you there might be other things on my mind? After all, Eda, the universe does not center around you."

"Well it certainly can't center around both of us," I replied brightly. "Leave it to me to make the sacrifice."

A soft knock came to the door, and Aragorn opened it. Èowyn glanced between the three of us, her eyes uncertain. "My lord Aragorn," she said in a demure tone, "your presence has been requested in my uncle's hall."

Aragorn nodded. "I will come immediately."

Èowyn curstied and strode out of sight.

As he stepped out of the room, Aragorn said, "Stay here and work things out. Don't you dare leave until I get back, either of you. And—" he flashed us a wink, "—you're welcome to use the bed."

My eyes popped wide open. I could not believe Aragorn had just said that!

Aragorn burst into laughter. "The good news is, you both own a pair of eyes well-attached to your heads. They would've fallen out otherwise." And with a final, completely inappropriate snigger, he shut the door behind himself.

Leaving me alone with my becrushed nemesis.