The pond was a deep, dark, ominous circle framed by sloping white boulders and a few twisted gray trees. There was barely a ripple, except at the small crack in the sheer mountains which fed the pond by a small trickle of water, and it was at this small fissure where she crouched. The water itself looked freezing, but the breeze was warm and she decided it would be worth the risk. Carefully stepping onto the gritty, jagged bottom, she entered the cold pond, the water sending prickling goose bumps up her legs and arms. She shivered, tucking a lock of red hair out of her eyes. Everyone else was waiting for Sam and Eleniel to come back with some fresh meat, and in the meantime, Gimli was entertaining them with a few Dwarven poems. Amy had wandered away, partly out of loneliness, and partly out of boredom. The farther the wandered, the less she saw; everything was wasted and bland, like a sketch book without borders. The plains around them were a soulless, empty gray, with only hints of lavender sketching against the tall grasses. Even two years after the terrible war, the world was just beginning to regain its color. Her world. The world. Legolas's world. Amy still didn't know what to call it. She waded deeper into the water, blinking back a sting of tears which bit at her eyes. It was ice cold, but the physical pain of the frigid water momentarily distracted her and took her breath away in a gasp. She set her teeth and dove in.

It was unbelievably cold – Amy half wondered why it hadn't just stayed frozen on some glacier somewhere. The artic water drove all the air from her lungs, but she forced her eyes open to catch a glimpse of the world around her. The place had a warped, surreal feeling to it, as though someone had raked the reality out of it; the edges of her vision trembled as she kicked towards the surface. Jagged rocks bruised her feet as she stood, and she flung her curtain of heavy red hair behind her, taking a few gulps of air, which felt positively baking after the sheer iciness of the water. Amy shivered, her teeth rattling together, but she felt amazingly good – a snake shedding its skin – and dove back in again, determined to see more of the underwater world. More accustomed to the water, she could see more; gauzy gray shapes melted together to form solid rocks, and there was a moldering, rotting wet tree trunk some ways away. Branches scratched at her legs, and she tried to scream in surprise, only to take in a lungful of water. She broke the surface yelping in panic, and stumbled towards the shore. One of the elves – either Legolas or one of the younger ones, she couldn't tell – looked towards her, but from this distance she couldn't see their expression.

She shook herself, grabbed a handful of her tunic and wrung it out, then tried to detangle her hair with her fingers. The sun which had seemed weak and distant moments ago, was powerfully hot and covered her in a glaze of warmth. After her cold dunk in the pond, she wanted all of the heat she could get. Amy shuddered, her teeth chattering uncontrollably, and scampered back over to the circle of friends she had left behind. Legolas looked up as she approached, along with the older, dark haired elf who had been slightly friendlier to the girls. Legolas's cerulean eyes lit up – So cheesy, Amy thought to herself, but there's really no other way to describe it. – as he saw Amy approach. He patted the grass next to him, and she circled the group until she reached him. There was a respectable stretch of grass between them when she sat, but she didn't care – last night had been a mistake, she told herself. She had no business snuggling up to Legolas like that when she wasn't even sure she liked him. Well, she liked him, she told herself, but did she ...? She couldn't even think the words.

"We breached the walls and the gloom we fought, In the atrium discovered what we sought. The book was found and names were spoken, The darkness cast out and curses broken.

The wounds may heal, but the scars remain - Where a bridge shall fall, you must build it again. And now when the anvil rings out loud, The hammer strikes - and makes us proud."

Gimli finished his poem with a gleam in his eye, and he sat back, puffing on his pipe. "Such a beautiful place," He said wistfully beneath his breath.

"I'm sure it is, my friend," Legolas said comfortingly. "And one day, a new generation shall rebuild it to its former glory." He sat back, squinting towards the horizon. "I wonder where Lady Eleniel has gone?" He queried aloud. "She has been gone for some time; I do hope she and Samantha have not gotten into a dispute."

"Knowing Lady Samantha, I would fret more if they had not gotten into a dispute," The dark-haired elf said quietly, smiling slightly. "But do not fear, Legolas – they will be back soon, I can feel it."

Amy bit her bottom lip in anxiety, surveying the area around her. "You're probably right," She admitted. "I just hope..." She trailed off, but then forced a smile on her face. "That was a lovely poem, Gimli. Really cool." She broke off – it had reminded her of Moria, to tell the truth. That dark, ghoulish place full of twisted stalactites and the gaping maws of black tunnels stretching far away, the impenetrable labyrinth which had nearly taken all of their lives. She dropped her gaze, but tried not to let the emotion show on her face. That horrible nightmarish place, so far underground, where the light was scarce and the dangers loomed, grinning and cackling, in the shadows.

There was a short, awkward silence, and then one of the younger Elves spoke up. "I believe Lady Eleniel is approaching," He said, and got to his feet. Amy whipped around right away, eager to see her friend. The group saw a most curious sight.

Eleniel and Sam were running back, Sam stumbling slightly, the blonde bracing her from one side. Sam looked fiercely annoyed, and the brunette's hair was in thick, shaggy waves around her face. "Sam!" Amy cried, and darted to her friend's side. There was a crude bandage around Sam's forearm, but it was soaked with blood.

"She needs help," Eleniel said, brushing the terrified Amy away with a cold glare. "Calanon, Ainion, get some fresh bandages from my satchel," She ordered with queenly grace. Her face was an unconcerned mask, but her jaw was locked tightly. The two blonde Elves leapt to her aide, opening her satchel and getting several medical supplies from the depths.

"What happened?" Amy demanded, her face crumpled in concern.

"Our friend thought it wise to shoot an arrow into a suspicious looking animal whom she claimed was here to claim the life of her last friend," Eleniel said dryly. "Samantha, be still," She snapped, and peeled off the bloodstained bandage. Sam hissed a breath between her teeth, and made it sound both like a cry of pain and a vicious curse. She glared at Amy, and rolled her eyes.

"It was a fox," Sam supplied between gritted teeth. "Sparkly, too, the little motherf-"

"Sam!" Amy cut her off hastily, with a glance at the Elves. "Do you think it was another messenger?" She added in a low voice.

"Yes," Sam snarled, and jerked away from Eleniel. "Watch it!"
She barked at the Elf, and the blonde elleth grunted in a very unladylike fashion. "It was a messenger, from who I don't know," Sam spat at Amy. "But I'm not standing around and accepting any more of their gifts, not while I'm still breathing."

"But, Sam..." Amy said, but one of the blonde elves, Calanon, broke her off.

"You do understand you have committed a great folly!" Calanon snapped. "You have angered the Valar! Eru only knows what they will do now!"

"Shut up," Sam growled. "I'm not going to take any chances. If I see it again, I will kill it."

"You shot a fox with an arrow and it didn't die?" Amy asked incredulously.

"My point exactly," Sam said, and scraped her molars together when Eleniel tightened the bandage. "Not to mention the thing sparkled like Edward Cullen with fur."

"Sam, can we have a minute alone?" Amy said pointedly, and Eleniel made a disparaging noise in the back of her throat.

"She should rest," Eleniel said. "This wound is strange – the skin did not break until I applied some ointment, and then she began to bleed profusely. She should lie still until I can examine the wound properly."

"You can talk later, Amy," Legolas said soothingly. "Sam must rest."

Amy didn't want to voice her wish – that sparkling fox might have been there to bring them home. The Valar might have changed their mind. She looked nervously at Sam and Legolas – could they see what she was thinking on her face? Legolas would be heartbroken, and Sam didn't want to leave. What did Sam want, Amy wondered. Did she want to go home as desperately as herself? Or did she feel attached to Middle Earth, to Haldir? Sam glanced up at Eleniel. "I'm not a baby," She snapped. "I can walk, okay?"

"Lie. Down. Now." Eleniel said evenly, each word tight and forced. The steel blue eyes, sharp as razors, glared at Sam. The two women sized each other up – Amy could practically see their hackles rising – and Eleniel won the stare down. Sam looked away first.

"Fine. But just because I'm too tired to argue," Sam conceded reluctantly. "Not because you told me."

Childish, Eleniel thought to herself with a sigh. So unutterably childish.

"Amy, we should eat."

It was Legolas, of course – he always had a habit of sneaking up on her when she was lost in thought. The purple clouds were blushed with a skimming of yellow, the dying rays of the setting sun bathing the plains, painting the gray canvas with delicate light. She was twisting together a few strands of heather, braiding them into a tight circlet, her fingers numb from the prickly activity. He approached her, and then sat down next to her. "Gimli is concerned," He continued. "You didn't eat afternoon meal with us, and you didn't eat the food Eleniel prepared. Is something troubling you?"

"You could say that," Amy said, focusing on her circlet in the fading light. Her voice was eerily steady, dry and firm. "I mean, it's only as if I've been deposited in a new world, dragged into this 'save-the-world-or-bust- quest, come out of it alive but missing her friends, and mentally scarred for the rest of her life. Not to mention her best friend died because your other best friend killed her, and that the only surviving friend you have is turned into some sort of Arnold Schwarzenegger-type macho-man, and she's madly in love with some Marchwarden who's just as insane as she is."

"Amy..." Legolas said softly. "Amy, I need to speak with you."

She sighed and buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry," She said, her voice muffled. "I'm just tired. And cranky."

"Amy, I need to make a proposition," Legolas said, and he sounded as though he had rehearsed this many times. "Please, I just need a part of your heart to listen."

"This sounds ... bad," Amy said, and looked at him worriedly. "Did I do something?"

Yes, Legolas thought bitterly to himself. She had bewitched him without her knowledge, she broke his heart every time she smiled. In a time of war, she had been a fragile, delicate white blossom amid the carnage, a white rose with no thorns to protect herself. He had never become this infatuated with an elleth before, and he had accustomed himself to resisting their flirtatious smiles and big doe eyes. But Amy ... Amy had snared him so thoroughly, so innocently, with her cloud of frizzy red hair and those worried green eyes, her slender figure and continual concern. He massaged his temples slowly. "Amy, you've done nothing wrong," He assured her, and a nervous, rueful laugh was shaken from him. "You've done everything ... perfectly. Which is why I need to speak with you."

"Legolas, I –"

"Iluvitar, Amy, I have this whole speech memorized, and if you interrupt me again, I will forget the entire thing!" Legolas said, frustrated.

Amy giggled, and put a hand over her mouth. "Sorry. Go on."

He took a deep breath, and looked pointedly at the beautiful sunset. "I have been giving this matter some thought for quite a while," He confessed, "And I understand you've still trying to adapt to our world, our customs... I know it must be difficult. But I would like to renew the question I asked you two years ago."

Amy's heart stopped beating for a moment, and she looked hurriedly around her, blushing, as though someone was listening. "What do you mean?" She asked, although she had an idea.

Legolas looked at her squarely in the eyes. His voice wavered slightly, and she smiled awkwardly at the serious look in his dark blue orbs. He had such a serious, worried look on his face. "I asked you to marry me two years ago," He said, and his voice dropped lower, "And I understand you will not give me an answer at this moment. But I would like permission to ... " He cleared his throat. "...To court you."

"To what?" Amy sputtered, a little louder than she intended.

"Under normal circumstances, I would ask your father," He said hastily, "But since there is no one to ask, I will ask you for your permission. I assure you, my intentions are completely honorable, but ..." He paused again to swallow – "I intend to marry you, Amy, and I will show you how beautiful Middle Earth can be." There was an eager, bright look in his face, underlined with nerves and uncertainty.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Amy said, her hands shaking. "You're asking me ... for permission to court me? Is that like dating?"

He frowned. "From my limited knowledge of your lexicon, then yes, it is like dating."

Amy looked at the honest look in his eyes, and then shook her head, turning back towards the brilliant sunset. A shard of lemon sunlight was being wrapped slowly in orange and red tinted clouds, melting softly into the horizon. It was achingly similar to the sunsets she had witnessed back home, but at the same time, bewilderingly different. The craggy black mountains clawed raggedly at the skies, and it was too raw, majestic and powerful to be on earth. The air was too clean, the colors too vivid. She dropped her head, a sigh expelling from between her teeth. "I don't know, Legolas," She said softly. "I'm just ... I don't know. Let's see how this trip goes, okay?"

"Amy, I assure you, I am very well off," Legolas said, and there was something desperate about his words. "I am a Prince, after all – Mirkwood is a beautiful place to live, and I shall treat you with the utmost respect, Amy, I promise you –"

"Shh," Amy said, and touched his lips with her finger. "Legolas, it isn't you," She whispered. "It's not, I promise. It's me. I can't – I can't wrap my head around this place."

"Then promise me," Legolas asked earnestly, "Promise me you won't listen to another ellon. Please, consider me above your other suitors – no matter how many times they declare their love, know that mine is a hundredfold – a thousand fold – more than theirs. Please, Amy. Promise me this."

She couldn't say no when he looked at her like that.

"Okay."

A/N: Honeeeyyyy, I'm hoommmeeee!

Sorry, Jack Nicholson moment.

Anyway, I'm sorry for the very long delay – some very personal matters which some of you may know about. I don't feel like going into it now, but suffice to say I was too sick to write and my family was too harried to post anything. At any rate, I hope you guys like this; I realize it's really subpar, but its something, right? :D I'm sorry about the quality, really, but at least its something for the weekend.