None of the Fellowship was truly glad to see the sunlit sky after their escape from Moria. Each representative grieved and pondered the strange chain of events. As silent tears coursed down Kiah’s face, Legolas felt a punch to his mid-section. Watching her standing away from the others, he sensed her loneliness more so than before. She didn’t speak to him when they crossed the bridge before it collapsed; she didn’t even look at him. 

Silently the elf cursed himself; how could he keep his vow to Cadrieldur to protect Kiah, when the only thing he had succeeded in doing thus far was push her away? 

If you had not snatched her back when you did, you would be a Fellowship of eight and not nine, his logical self reasoned. And it was true; his vow to his mentor would surely have been broken had he not rescued her from that arrow. Growing irritated, the elf thought, I save her life and yet she shows ingratitude. Had she listened to Gandalf, he would still be with us. 

Just then, his elven ears heard Kiah barely whisper a name that quelled his anger against her: “Asalie.” With that one simple utterance, Legolas now understood his mistake: by assuming she was not skilled enough to deflect the arrow, he had unwittingly trapped her in Middle Earth, in the Third Age, forever. His interference, though intended for good, had shut her away from the only family she had left. What have I done? 

Kiah avoided the occasional looks from the others, especially the elf; she feared she would kill him if she looked at him. Instead, she silently prayed for someone, something, to help her get home. If you hadn’t taught me otherwise, Maman, I would be quitting right now and walking away. But I gave my word, and I will keep it. What choice do I have? She wiped at her eyes, took a deep breath, and waited for their next move. 

Aragorn looked over his despondent travelers, and then back at the hell they’d just escaped. His voice seemed to ring with the ancient kings of old when he commanded, “Get everyone on their feet. We must move.” 

The rest of the Fellowship said nothing, but regarded him as if they hadn’t heard right. 

Aragorn became irritated and strode to Boromir, barking, “I said get them up!” 

The Steward stood and faced the exiled king. “You cannot be serious. Can you not see they are grieving? They are in shock, for pity’s sake!” 

“This place will be crawling with orcs! We must leave now if we hope to cross into Lothlorien and safety!” 

Begrudgingly, Boromir did as he was told. He jerked a thumb towards Kiah. “And what about her?” 

Legolas, a silent observer of the verbal exchange, spoke up then. “What do you mean, ‘what about her’? Regardless of what you saw, she is a member of this Company, Son of Gondor. She will not be abandoned.” 

Kiah gave each member—excluding her defender—a hard stare before shifting her attention to Aragorn. “Let’s go,” she simply said, following his lead to Lothlorien. 

 

As the weary and battered troupe marched on, the telekinetic and the exiled king were separated from the others, who occasionally whispered and mumbled about Kiah. Legolas heard it all, and was angered by it, especially with the Gondorian and the Dwarf. When he heard her mutter to Aragorn, “This is ridiculous”, he knew she’d reached her limit with them as well. 

Because time was of the essence, Kiah didn’t stop and turn around to confront; instead she answered their questions while maintaining her course. Willing her tone to be matter-of-fact, she began.  

“I’m from a place where some humans are born with abilities that at one time made us feared and hated. Our group of society is called psionics, and we transcend racial, age, and gender barriers. What you saw me do in the mines is telekinesis, the ability to move anything I can see just by thinking about it. Other psionics can read and control others’ thoughts, or heal their bodies without medicine…some can walk through walls, control the weather, manipulate ice…or control fire. The list is endless.” 

“You are a wizard, then, for no one can do those things without magic,” said Sam. 

Kiah looked over her left shoulder at him. “None of my kind needs spells or incantations to be who and what we are. We are born this way, period.” 

“If you have this gift, why did you not use it on Caradhras, or with the Wargs? Why did you keep it a secret?” pressed Gimli. 

“Because she was forbidden until the appointed time,” answered Legolas, who finally caught the woman’s eye for a brief and tense moment. “Kiah risks much to help in this quest, more than any of you could realize. Instead of doubting her integrity and worth, you should thank for what she did, otherwise we would all be lost in Moria.” 

That effectively shut the others’ mouths, including Kiah, who turned to look at him once more, as if to say “Why did you defend me?” 

“Because I am responsible for you, and I will do all that I can to help you get through this and get home,” Legolas whispered faintly. He watched her walk along side Aragorn, who’d lightly padded her right shoulder for encouragement. I promise I will get you home, Strong One. 

 

Three days had passed since Gandalf’s fall. It was January 17, 3019; Kiah had been in Middle Earth for almost three months, which—she hoped—meant she’d only been gone from Xinal for ninety minutes. During their trek to Lothlorien, she’d made a healing paste for Frodo, who’d sustained bruises from the cave troll’s attack. His quick recovery amazed the others; what else can she do, they’d wondered at some point. 

But despite the acceptance from Aragorn, the hobbits, and even Legolas, Kiah still felt alone. She had withdrawn more from the others since her psionic explanation. Her mind was occupied with the wizard, the elf, Riddick, and, of course, her daughter. Such thoughts began to drag her down the path of depression she hadn’t traveled since Asalie’s rescue. And she was doing her best to fight it, but it grew more difficult with each step. 

On the day they’d crossed the borders of Lothlorien, she was oblivious to Gimli’s gossiping of the dangerous Lady of the Woods, and how she wouldn’t be able to surprise attack him. Before he could take another step, the tip of his large nose met the tip of a sharp arrowhead. 

“You breathe so loud that we could shoot you in the dark,” answered the wielder of the arrow. The dwarf looked up into the blue eyes of an elf, whose appearance was as light and fair as Legolas’. The elf prince quickly drew an arrow, but no sooner did he aim at Gimli’s aggressor than three arrowheads leveled themselves around his neck. The entire Company found itself surrounded by elves camouflaged in the tones and hues of the woods. 

One lightly nudged his weapon against Kiah’s back. Slowly the telekinetic turned to see him, her face void of _expression save her rapidly changing eyes. Both Legolas and Aragorn noted that she was about to strike against the newcomers. “Wait, Strong One,” the elf prince urged. 

The ears of the new group’s leader perked up. “She is the One sent by the Valar?” he asked Legolas, who nodded in response. The elven leader regarded Kiah in a different light then. Not having seen the prophetic scroll, he did not expect her skin to be a rich, creamy brown tone, nor her stature to be small. Reminding her of one of the scanning machines at the Institute, the elf’s eyes roamed from her head to her feet, and back up again, scrutinizing every detail. When he saw the annoyance and defensiveness in her strange eyes, he grinned slightly. 

“Fear not, Strong One of the Valar. None shall harm you here,” he said, motioning to his companions to lower their weapons. 

“And you are…?” she asked. 

“Haldir, milady.” Turning to address Aragorn—but still feeling her distrustful gaze—he said, “We have been aware of you for a long while. It is an honor to escort you into Lothlorien, save the Dwarf.” 

Gimli’s face grew red with indignation. “What insult is this? I have done no wrong against you,” he charged gruffly. 

“We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days. They are not permitted in our land. I cannot allow him to pass,” explained the elven leader. 

“Outrageous!” exclaimed the son of Gloin, a sentiment which Kiah had no problem sharing. Looking back from where they’d come, she turned around and began walking. 

“What are you doing, Kiah?” asked Boromir, which marked the first time he’d actually spoken to her since before Caradhras. 

“It’s called leaving, Boromir, and I suggest you all do the same,” she replied matter-of-factly. One of Haldir’s companions moved in front of her, but found himself gliding to her right with a wave of her hand, his back pressed against a tree, his eyes grown wide. 

“Do not be so rash, Kiah,” Aragorn called out. “This is their land. They reserve the right to protect it from all outsiders.” 

“Maybe, but they don’t reserve the right to do so based on racial prejudice, which is exactly what this is about,” she answered and kept her course. “The people in my world haven’t dealt with that in over two hundred years, and I’ll be damned if I deal with it now.” 

The other elves were stunned by the attitude and tone they’d just received from this human; the Fellowship was a little more used to it. Gimli looked upon the woman who was barely taller than him, and felt respect grow for her. Gripping his axe, he too began to walk away, throwing back a glare at Haldir. 

Legolas was the only one of the Company to catch the faint, exasperated sigh from Aragorn, knowing full well what he was thinking. “She is a force to be reckoned with in any situation, my friend,” he said in elvish, a tiny grin lifting a corner of his mouth. 

“I think would I would rather battle orcs unarmed than confront her,” the exiled king replied. 

Kiah had no clue what they were saying, but felt that she was the subject. Turning back around, she said, “Look, what’s it going to be? Do we all pass through or not, Haldir? Time isn’t exactly on our side.” 

The elvish leader ignored the warning looks from his companions, and answered, “Very well. We will do this, though it is against our liking. If our northern kinsman and Isildur’s heir will guard the dwarf and answer for him, he shall pass. But he most go blindfold through Lothlorien.” 

Kiah’s hazel eyes shifted from, to Gimli, and then to Aragorn. In her mind, the deal sucked. In her mind, the all-or-nothing ideal rang loud and true. But she wasn’t calling the shots; Aragorn was. “What do you think?” she asked him. 

“If the Master Dwarf is to be blindfolded, then we shall all go blindfolded,” answered the Ranger. He looked around at the other travelers, and was pleased that their eyes reflected the same sentiment. 

Moments passed before the lead elf responded. “So be it.” While his companions moved to cover the eyes of the Fellowship, he commented to Legolas, “The bond of the Walkers is commendable, despite your many differences. Such unity bodes well in times such as these.” 

“That it must, if Middle Earth can hope to survive,” said the elf prince. 

Tying the blindfold over Legolas’ eyes, Haldir inquired, “The woman…how strong is she?” 

Thranduil’s son paused for a bit before answering with conviction. “What I have witnessed in Moria pales in comparison to what Kiah is truly capable of doing.” 

 

The sounds of daylight creatures gave way to those of the night, by the time the Fellowship and their escort had traveled further into Lothlorien and to Caras Galadon, home of Celeborn and Galadriel. During their hike, Legolas’ mind had become increasingly occupied with one person. Out of all the sounds and noises surrounding them, it was Kiah’s breathing, her footsteps, and her low gasps that he heard first. Many a time he wanted to speak out to her, to inquire how she was faring, even though he already knew the answer. The truth—which surprised him to admit it—was that he wanted to hear her voice. He would rather she hurl insults at him instead of the cold silence. 

Perhaps she keeps quiet because she is thinking of Riddick. 

Legolas frowned at the thought that appeared in his mind. Wondering about Cadrieldur and his feelings were now replaced with this faceless man. What manner of human is he? Is he like Kiah, a psionic? Where was he when the Valar called her here? Does he love her as she—the elf prince shook his head to prevent completing that question. It is foolish to assume I know what lies in Riddick’s heart…in Kiah’s, for that matter. It is truly none of my concern. But still, the questions nagged at him. 

Finally, Haldir and company announced their arrival at Caras Galadon, and removed the blindfolds of the Fellowship. Each one, save Kiah, expressed their awe for the sight before them: many paths of stairs that were illuminated by an ethereal, peaceful blue light. At the top of the high places, their hearing was blessed with musical voices carried on the wind; they looked down to the earth and saw a fountain adorned with silver lamps from surrounding trees. To the south, a mighty and glorious tree stood, glowing like gray silk under the moon. It was here that the escort guided the Fellowship, up the broad white ladder. 

Once at the height, again all but Kiah verbally marveled at the large house built on a wide talan. Upon entering, they found themselves in an oval chamber, with white and silver walls and a golden roof. There was a stairway before them, and from the top descended the rulers of Lorien, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. 

Legolas and the others bowed low before them out of respect…except for Kiah. Instead, he saw her bend her head forward for a few seconds. Her back was ramrod straight, her hands clasped into tight fists behind her back. Her tension and stress radiated from her, as well as sadness. I should have trusted her to save Gandalf, he thought with regret. 

As if reading his mind, Celeborn bade all to stand and addressed them. “Here there are nine; ten were set out. Where is Gandalf the Grey, for I much desired to speak with him.” 

The ancient, wise eyes of his queen roamed from Walker to Walker, finally settling on Frodo’s weary face. “He has fallen into Shadow,” she informed in a soft voice. She observed the way the others struggled with their loss, but found the Strong One’s reaction interesting: though sadness was there, hers was very old. Using one of her special gifts, Galadriel probed Kiah’s mind, to find the source. 

Kiah thought she felt a slight tickle in her head, as if nimble fingers were lighting across her memories like feathers. “What the—“ she whispered, her hazel eyes shifting around for whoever was inside her head. Her stare settled on Galadriel. Narrowing her eyes, the telekinetic sent forth one single thought: “Get the hell out of my head!” 

Both Celeborn and Legolas felt the thought more than heard it. The keen eyes of the Lord of Lorien saw the brilliant emerald flash in her eyes, and the aura of her power rippling from her body. Each time she exhaled, he could hear the rattling anger in her breath. His wife detected these as well, and felt sympathy grow in her heart. 

Respecting Kiah’s memories, Galadriel retreated and probed the rest of the Fellowship. What she saw in Boromir’s mind—the secret desire to possess the corrupting Ring and use against Sauron—was enough to inspire her to speak in her beautiful and subtly awesome voice: 

“Your quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail.” 

The steward of Gondor felt her azure eyes on him; guilt flooded his heart and forced him to avert her gaze. 

Continuing, Galadriel shifted her stare to Kiah first and then to Frodo. “Yet hope remains where all the Company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Tonight you shall sleep in peace.” 

With the barest of nods from Celeborn, Lorien elves appeared to escort the Fellowship away to refresh themselves and rest. Legolas looked to the telekinetic, who was being led in an opposite direction by Galadriel herself. “Where is Kiah being taken?” he asked the female elf who had appeared by his side. “Will she be alright?” 

“She will be fine, son of Mirkwood,” she reassured with a smile. “She is in good hands.” Again, she smiled when Legolas looked back at the retreating form of his fellow traveler, concern and worry etched in his blue eyes. “Trust me, she will be well taken care of.” 

 

Down the southern slopes of the great hill, the Lady of Lorien led Kiah to an enclosed garden, which led to a hollow below. A silver stream ran through, and near it was a silver basin and ewer, elevated on an intricately carved pedestal. As Galadriel gathered water from the stream to pour into the basin, she said to the wary telekinetic, “I apologize for reading your memories, Strong One.” 

“Why’d you do it? What did you think you’d find?” Kiah asked rather harshly. Her grasp on frustration and sadness was slipping, and she knew it. No matter how hard she was trying to fight it, to keep her head up, her old pain was resurfacing. 

Galadriel offered a compassionate smile. “I had hoped to find the root of your pain.” 

“You could’ve asked instead of sneaking around in my head,” the woman snapped. 

The Lady moved to the basin and filled it. “And if I had asked, would you have told me?” 

“No.” 

Galadriel grinned, then leaned forward to breathe on the surface of the water. “This is the Mirror of Galadriel, for you to look upon, if you will.” 

A dark eyebrow lifted on the telekinetic’s face. “To look and see what?” she asked, her voice heavy with skepticism. 

“Things that were, things that are, and things that yet may be. Whichever you see, even the wisest cannot always tell. Do you wish to look?” 

Kiah said nothing for the longest time; she just looked at Galadriel, searching for any hint of trickery. She shifted her gaze back to the basin and slowly approached it, her TK shield ramped and charged. Looking onto the water’s surface, she saw it turn from silver to black, and then to a light gray. Small ripples emanated from the center, giving way to an image in black and white. A tiny cry escaped Kiah’s lips when she saw the memorial of her family commissioned by her old neighbors. Her hazel eyes skimmed over the first line of engraved names: Madelyne, Claude, Reesa, Reymond, Lucille, Peter. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, the sound breaking with her tears. 

The water rippled again, switching to images of Jack and Imam, and then to Riddick. Kiah wiped at her eyes and uttered his name, his presence in the image bringing her a little reassurance. “You’ll always be there when I need you, won’t you?” 

Another disturbance brought forth a vision that drew a sharp look at Galadriel. “What’s this?” she demanded, pointing at the basin, at the view of her being bound and beaten, covered in blood and bruises. Her clothes were nearly torn to shreds, her eyes blindfolded, and her lips parted in a silent scream as a whip lashed against her back. When the Lady said nothing, Kiah grunted and looked at the mirror. “Asalie…show me Asalie.” 

Her request was ignored, replaced instead by a specter of Legolas garbed in silver and blue. His eyes were unreadable, but their stare was penetrating, through her heart and to her soul. The telekinetic looked at Galadriel again, her voice hushed and pleading, “Why are you doing this? Where’s my daughter?” 

Shifting her eyes back to the mirror, which was now black, Kiah repeated louder, “Where’s my daughter, dammit! Show me Asalie!” 

The water rippled slower, and finally yielded her heart’s desire. A sob fell from her lips when se saw the younger telekinetic, her face a mask of responsibility that was forced upon her too soon. Kiah watched as Asalie placed flowers on a marker, whispering, “Je t’aime toujours, I love you always.” 

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, like something was crushing her chest, when her daughter walked away and was embraced in Riddick’s arms. She thought she could hear him say, “She’ll be back…she’ll be back.” 

Kiah stumbled away from the basin, and away from Galadriel. All of her fears, her doubts, her fragility rang heavy in her voice when she asked, “I won’t be leaving this place, will I?” 

“I cannot say, Strong One. Yours is a destiny which has not been clearly defined.” 

“Then what was the point of showing me this? To warn me? To scare me? Shit, I’m scared enough as it is!” Kiah shot back. 

“I’m scared I fucked up in Moria! I’m scared I won’t be able to protect Frodo! I’m scared that I’ll never see my daughter, my heart, ever again!” 

The tears fell unabashed from the telekinetic’s eyes, a sign that she had finally succumbed to the depression she’d been fighting probably since day one. Her heart hurt with a pain that not even Galadriel, in all her years, could have experienced. She didn’t care if the elf saw her stripped of her courage and strength. She didn’t care if anyone heard her cries. For this moment in time, Kiah the telekinetic was on sabbatical: Kiah the single mother stood in her place. 

Risking the ire of the human, Galadriel probed her mind again, her beautiful face creasing in sympathy at what she saw. “Dearest Kiah, yours is heart that has been bruised in ways no one should feel. And though you have survived this long, it still has not fully healed. You believe your strength lies solely in your power…without strength of heart, your gift is incomplete. To be the Strong One of the Valar, your heart has to be made whole,” she said in soft, soothing tones. 

“How?” asked Kiah, her voice a mere whisper. 

Galadriel smiled with compassion. “Release your past, once and for all. Once you have done that, you will be ready to be healed.” 

 

Perched in a large tree, Legolas watched and listened as Kiah and Galadriel talked. Once his escort had left him at his flet, he left immediately to find the petite woman. Her inner pain acted like a beacon to him, leading him down the hill and hollow, to take his seat high above. He could not see the mirror’s images, for they were for her eyes only, but he could see her reactions. When she had uttered Riddick’s name, the elf prince’s handsome face creased into a frown. She loves him…but does he deserve her? 

Her demand to see Asalie recaptured his attention, as did her breakdown. Void of her defenses, of her power, Kiah appeared as fragile as a flower caught in a storm, battered with wind and rain. More than anytime before, Legolas wanted to gather her in his arms, to wipe away her tears, to protect her from more pain, to fight her battles. …But that is not my place; she does not need me. 

“Yes she does, son of Thranduil,” Galadriel said calmly, sitting on a nearby bench. “Join me, please.” 

Embarrassed at having been caught, Legolas quickly descended to the ground floor, dropping to one knee. “My utmost apologies, milady. I was—“ 

“Keeping your word to your mentor to watch over Kiah”, she finished, bidding him to rise. “I know the importance of vows to your kinsman. I do not begrudge your actions.” When he began looking around for Kiah, Galadriel informed, “She has departed to her flet, while you were deep in thought.” 

Legolas regarded the powerful elf, while asking himself how he could’ve missed Kiah’s leaving. “You said she needs me. How is that possible when I cannot even converse with her without argument? I become like a drunken orc around her, clueless and dumb.” 

Resting a slender hand on his shoulder, the Lady of Lorien smiled. “I disagree, Legolas. You did well to shield her from the son of Gondor in Rivendell, and to assist her on Caradhras. Likewise, you did save her life in Moria.” 

The elf prince silently marveled at the skills with which Galadriel had scanned his memories. “Then...why can I not speak to her except to offend? Why is there so much enmity between us?” 

The Lady looked deep into his inquiring eyes, into his heart, for several minutes, peeling away his own layers to reach the core. “Your heart has grown to care for her in such a short time. But you fear she will reject it if you reveal it to her.” 

Legolas could only blink. Was it true? Was that it? He had never feared any refusal from any female before, for none had done so. Yet from the moment they met, Kiah wanted nothing to do with him. She didn’t care about his royal status, or his appearance. She paid him little attention, when they were not engaged in a fight. “This…caring…in my heart…it cannot be true. I feel this because her spurning…intrigues me? What will happen the day she no longer does that? Will my feelings for her fade?” 

Galadriel answered his question with one of hers. “When you are near her, when you touch her, do you feel something?” 

“Yes, milady, her gift’s energy. It flows through me like a warm, humming current of power.” 

The older elf smiled at him again. “You are the only one who can feel that, Legolas. Above all others, above all circumstances to come, she will need you. Be patient, son of Mirkwood, and stand fast by her side. The caring in your heart will not be in vain.” 

 

Four nights later, the elf prince found himself walking alone in the woods of Caras Galadon. The litany for Mithrandir had come and gone, and the Fellowship continued to rest. Yet absent from them was the Strong One; after her talk with Galadriel, Kiah had retreated to her own flet, to do what should have happened two years ago: take time to heal. No one had seen her since then. 

As his long, strong legs guided him past countless trees, moving in and out of the moonlight, Legolas’ thoughts were solely focused on the telekinetic. What would he say when he saw her again? What would he do? How could he get close to her to help? How could he earn her trust? 

Near one of Lorien’s beautiful ponds, he caught the scent of lavender on the tiny breeze. His sensitive ears heard someone breathing—deep, slightly shuttering breaths. As he approached, Legolas peered through some low branches and saw Kiah sitting by the small pool of water. Gone were her tunic and pants; she wore a pale yellow gown, a gift from the Lady. Her wavy ebony hair hung freely, stopping six inches below her shoulders. Her legs were folded so that her chin rested on the tops of her knees, her arms wrapped around them. The elf prince could see the fresh trail of tears on her cheeks, how they had pooled around her chin and soaked through her gown. Her alluring eyes stared emptily at the water. 

Legolas approached her quietly, and sat by her left side. Together they remained this way for a long time; occasionally he would glance towards her, but kept his silence. He didn’t know what was happening in her mind and heart, but as Galadriel had encouraged him, he remained by her side. 

Eventually, Kiah slowly leaned against his arm, still not aware of who was with her. The movement made Legolas jump a little, before repositioning himself to gather her in his arms. Her telekinetic energy reached out for him, he sensed, wrapping itself around him delicately. Tenderly he stroked tendrils of her hair away from her face with his right hand, noting for the first time how soft she felt. Before he realized it, he’d leaned back to plant a soft kiss against her left temple, and began to rock very slowly. 

Kiah didn’t know how long she’d been there, in the dark place from her past. After her anger and denial phases had passed, she’d mentally and emotionally returned to the cold, painful void, a strange solace in the early days after her escape from the Packard Institute. The grief and despair that enveloped her was a twisted version of a security blanket: it was no way near comforting, yet she clung to it all the same. That changed, however, when she felt something warm and bright begin to invade the void, something that beckoned to her. A low, soft melody floated into her consciousness, stirring her from her dark, quiet state and moving her to focus and look for the source. 

Legolas stopped rocking and humming when Kiah looked up at him. At that point, he didn’t know if he should let go or hold fast to her. He tried to gauge the emotions in her eyes, but they swirled so fast it was hard for him to tell. He got his answer, however, when she looked down, seeing how close he was holding her. Without a word, without a syllable, she leaned back against him, her arms moving around his waist. 

The elf prince let loose the breath he’d been holding as a soft sigh. Resuming his rocking, he rested his cheek against the top of her head, leaning back to plant a comforting kiss there. Seeing Kiah like this—vulnerable, fragile, bathed in moonlight—made her more beautiful to him than any other time before. The feel of her curling against him, her head tucked into his right shoulder, drawing on his strength, was testimony to Legolas that Galadriel had been right. Kiah did need him, whether she would say so or not. 

He began humming the lullaby again, his hand slowly rubbing up and down her arm until he sensed the moment she was asleep. Ever graceful and silent, the elf prince stood, cradling Kiah in his lean, strong arms. He carried her back to the main part of the city, back to his flet since it was closer. Once inside, Legolas laid her gently onto the bedding, removing her slippers before tucking her under the blanket. He took off his boots and laid on top of the covering, facing her. His body still hummed with her energy from carrying her from the pond. His left hand reached out to stroke the right side of her face, from the temple down to the chin. 

Inspired by Galadriel’s words, Kiah’s subconscious acceptance, and the depth of caring in his own heart, Legolas leaned forward, his eyes studying every detail of her face. He closed his eyes, and barely touched his lips to hers…and knew things would never be the same.