A/N – Okay, so I write LotR fics as well as Harry Potter. *grins* Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fic, it is not what it appears. It took hours to come up with this chapter (literally) as I knew the basic story idea, but had no idea where to begin. As always, I want constructive advice and compliments. Mostly compliments, please. Lol! Just kidding. I hope you enjoy the story, I d LotR since before I knew how to read, and my father read it to me, so hopefully I won’t ruin Tolkien’s work. If you hear something, it’s just him rolling in his grave. *wink* I HOPE not, anyway! This fic will NOT contain spoilers UNLESS you have not seen the movie/read the book The Two Towers. If you have NOT, then go out and do either (preferably both) and then come back. The ending might contain some RotK spoilers, not sure right now. My fic will follow both the books and movies, mostly movie, for the sake of those non-readers out there, but I will definitely have book stuff in there, too. It’s rated PG, rating subject to change, though. I doubt it will, but my fingers have a mind of their own, sooooo, you never know. It shouldn’t be a Mary Sue, so if you get an inkling just keep going, I am not wanting it to be one. But if it turns out like one (it shouldn’t, since I know the ending…) then forgive me, many pardons. *grins* Anyway, here you go, have fun! And remember the key world: REVIEW!!! Reviews are what inspire me to write more (and that is the whole truth).

Chapter One ~Cry for thy Beloved

by Ka-da-great

***

Legolas Greenleaf lifted his eyes from the book he was studying. They immediately focused on the Elven-maiden sitting across the large room. He smiled softly, his clear blue eyes filling with affection.

The woman bit her lip as she gazed out the large window she was sitting near and into the velvety black of the night sky above. Her green eyes settled on a small star that twinkled dimly on the eastern edge of the night sky. The star was small enough that most would have to look arduously to find it, yet her trained eyes located it swiftly. She blinked, and one small tear made its way out of the corner of her eye. She quickly brought a hand to wipe it away with a hasty, practiced movement.

Legolas’s eyes softened and his smile faded. He set the book down quietly and asked, “Corwyn?”

The woman either didn’t hear him, or chose not to respond. He hoped for the former.

“Corwyn?” he asked again, this time standing and taking a step towards the brown-headed elf.

This time the woman looked up. Upon meeting Legolas’s eyes, she blinked rapidly, her tears dissipating from her eyes so that he would not see her grief. She offered a small, crescent moon smile, but Legolas did not return it. Instead, he looked out the window as she had been doing before, and, like her, his eyes were practiced at finding the small, dim star.

“You miss him.” Legolas said, stating a fact, not asking a question.

The woman, Corwyn, bit her lip again. “Always,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“You loved him, and still love him.” He turned his eyes to meet hers, which were rapidly filling with tears. He felt like putting his arms around her, telling her it would be all right, that he loved her now, but he knew his question had to be answered before he could find peace.

Corwyn fought the tears that were blurring her vision and blocking her throat. She cleared it softly and replied, “Y-yes,” hating herself for the quiver in her voice… and perhaps for the answer itself.

“More than you love me?” Legolas asked, his face drawn, solemn. “More than you have ever and will ever love me?”

“T-that’s not f-fair!” Corwyn said, her tears reappearing and now flowing freely, “That’s n-not fair!”

Legolas put a hand on her fine-boned shoulder. “Answer me, Corwyn.”

Corwyn looked up at Legolas. She saw the hurt in his icy blue eyes first, but behind it there was nothing but love. She could see he was worried, worried and upset with her. But she didn’t know if that’s what she wanted. It hurt her deeply to see him look at her that way, for a piece of her did love him, but a larger portion wanted so badly to be free of him. I must tell the truth, she thought, a fresh batch of tears rising in her eyes, the truth will set me free.

Legolas knew Corwyn’s answer. She needn’t have said a word; he knew what she would say. He could feel her saying it every day, every night, though never in more than her subliminal self. He knew she felt it when he touched her, he knew she thought it when he spoke to her. But he also knew she would never, never tell him it out loud. She would not allow herself to say it, though her subconscious fairly screamed it at her every day. He just wanted to know the truth, to hear her confirm his fears. He would never have said he was afraid to hear Corwyn speak, what a laugh Gimli would get out of his fear now. He could hear the Dwarf’s voice as clearly as though they were back wandering Fangorn. So you can slaughter the Uruks with the best, Elf, but you’re afraid to hear your own maiden speak! That’s one point for the Dwarves… But Legolas had never been afraid of Corwyn, until this moment. Because now he knew she was speaking death to him. But even death, Legolas thought wryly, needs to spoken.

“Just tell me Corwyn, please. I see it in your eyes every day. Do you love him more than me? More than you’ll ever love me?”

Corwyn looked up at Legolas from her seat. This wasn’t fair… how could she do this, how could she have brought it to this?

“Y-y-y-YES!” she cried, bursting into a deluge of tears. Legolas watched as the hundreds of small droplets fell softly on the long, silky, silver dress she was wearing; the dress I gave her, he thought sadly. He was still watching the tears, which had made their way into a miniature waterfall that fell onto the wooden floorboards with a barely perceptible patter, when Corwyn looked up at him. Her green eyes were red from crying, and her breath was gasping from both nervousness and exertion. He glanced up and met those sad, sorrowful eyes with his own. He saw himself reflected in her emerald irises, and he could see the hurt in his own eyes.

The truth hurts. Who had told him that? His mother? Yes, that sounded like her. Well, she had been correct. The truth was out now, and it did hurt. It hurt more than any battle wounds he had ever received from the armies of Sauron. Time heals all wounds. His mother had told him that one, too. And she was wrong about it. Time hadn’t healed Corwyn, and he doubted it ever would. He doubted time could heal him now, either.

***

Corwyn felt like she was about to vomit. She could see the pain she had caused Legolas; Legolas, who had only ever wanted to love her and who had always been there for her, Legolas who had never hurt her, and had always come back. I wish I were dead, she thought, more tears welling up. I wish I had been the one who had died. I could have kept us both from this end!

Legolas had always been good at reading Corwyn’s emotions, and now was no different. “Don’t think that, Cor,” he said, his voice oddly touching.

Corwyn looked up at him again, her eyes red and watery, and full of doubt. But with a huge hitching gasp she said, “L-Legolas!” and stood up, practically throwing herself into his arms.

He pulled her tightly to him, her sobs wracking against him as water against rock. He held her close, softly saying nonsensical things in her ear, trying to calm her.

“I’m so sorry, amin hiraetha, I’m so sorry, amin…” she kept repeating, the words coming out quickly and jumbled.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Legolas said, fighting to keep his voice neutral.

Corwyn lifted her head from his shoulder. “There’s everything to be sorry for, Legolas! I’m sorry I met you, that I ruined everything for you by meeting you. I’m even sorry I met him!”

Legolas shushed her. “No you’re not, and never say that again. You don’t have to be sorry about speaking the truth, either. I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t let you go, you were a bird and I refused to free you. But now we’re both free, eh?” he smiled, but it felt fake, even to himself.

Corwyn tried to smile back, but the expression felt strange. Legolas put a hand to her face. “Nae saian luumè, it’s been too long. Too long since you have had a smile on your face.” He said, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I have no reason to smile,” Corwyn said, the polite smile vanishing from her face. She said this and knew it was true. She really did not have anything to be happy about. When he had gone she knew in her heart she would never be happy again, and now that was coming true. Now she did not even have Legolas, by fault of her own.

Corwyn clenched her jaw against that inner voice. I don’t know what I want! She screamed back at it. I don’t know whom to love!

She put a hand to her face and wept into it, her sobs coming out irregularly in giant gasps. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and for one heavenly moment her grieving mind thought it was his hand. She looked up. But, of course, it wasn’t his eyes that greeted her, though the eyes there were full of the same expression he had always worn around her. But she knew it wasn’t the same; Legolas was not the one she yearned for, no matter how much love he offered.

Legolas squeezed Corwyn’s shoulder for a moment, and then dropped his hand. He backed a few steps, never shifting his gaze, then turned and walked to the door. He stopped in the archway, his back to her.

“I’m leaving.” He said simply, and then turned to face her. “I do not where to, but I know that your heart will lead you to me, if indeed it desires to. But I cannot stay here and hold onto false hope, Corwyn.”

Corwyn’s crystal eyes did not fill with tears, though she felt her heart, what was left of it, rifting into two. She found she had no more tears to spill.

“Amin hiraetha.” She said, her voice steady for the fist time that night. “There’s no more I can say…”

Legolas nodded, his long blonde hair swaying slightly from the breeze outside. “Namarie, melamin.” Farewell, my love.

“N-namarie, me-me-mel––” she could not say it.

But Legolas understood. His blue eyes darted up to the eastern horizon, finding the dim little star proficiently. He understood.

Without another word, he left, so silently that Corwyn thought perhaps she was dreaming. She knew she was not dreaming, however, for her dreams were never of Legolas. They were always of the other. She walked over to the doorway, and gazed out. Her eyes could barely make out the retreating form of Legolas, mounted upon his long-legged gray mare Calowiel, the horse helping him move quickly through the dark forest of Mirkwood. It was his home, and she had driven him away. She took another step outside, and almost yelled for him, (Legolas, come back!), but saw something out of the corner of her eye.

The dim little star in the eastern sky sparkled brightly for a moment, then faded to normal, becoming almost invisible by comparison.

Corwyn gazed at it, and felt her knees give in. She crumpled to the ground and sat there sobbing, but with no tears to shed.

How could it have come to this? She asked herself, What happened to make this the end for me?

But she knew the answer. She told herself the answer many times a day. With her slight form still lying on the ground, sobs shaking her shoulders, but making no sound, she cried out to the dark night.

“H-h-haaaldir!”

No answer, nothing. But what had she expected? A voice from the sky?

Corwyn, he can’t talk to you now. A little whisper inside her said. And he never will again because he’s never coming back.

“Haldir,” she sobbed, “Haldir, Haldir, Ha

***