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Chapter Text

The Lighthouse

I had tucked my legs in, the hot water bottle on my stomach and a soft blanket ensured that the storm sweeping around the tower and howling under the closed door crack did not reach me. It was late afternoon, in late April. This storm would be one of the last spring storms before summer finally pushed winter away for a few months.
My hand held a pen and ran over the blank lines of my journal. I had not written in it for some time. Especially after my stay in Hamburg, I had filled several books. After that, my life had returned to an orderly course and writing down my thoughts no longer seemed so important to me. Nevertheless, what had happened still troubled me. I dreamed of the elf at regular intervals, and since Morag had appeared a few months ago at the playground that my nephew had insisted on visiting that day, the memories of what had happened more than ten years ago had once again fought its way to the surface.
So I was writing again.
With a sigh, I leaned back in the chair and lowered the pen. The storm had darkened the sky, clouds piled up, almost blurring the rough sea and the sky beyond. I no longer lived in the city. After returning from Hamburg, some practical problems had been awaiting me: The apartment had been dismantled by Sattler's task force, which had not exactly pleased my landlord. I had been kicked out and had temporarily moved in with my sister, who, however, lived in another city. I had interrupted my studies for some time and then enrolled at the university closest to my new place of residence. It had taken months before I felt able to live on my own again. And a therapy that my sister had forced me into more than I had really wanted to do of my own free will. Which had led to the fact that I had needed further months, in order to admit that the encounter, which I had had with the elf, had not only disturbed me, but had also brought me forward. It had also been my therapist who had encouraged me to write in my diary. At first I had been skeptical - all my previous attempts at keeping a journal had failed miserably. But as I had begun to write down the thoughts and feelings I had experienced during my short time with Legolas, I had slowly been able to place them in order. I had understood that the situation had overwhelmed me. I had understood that I had been in constant fight-or-flight mode over time. And I had understood that because of this, I hadn't known how to view Legolas for a long time. For he had been both the trigger of the situation and my protector. I had been angry that he had taken my life apart. That and his unwillingness to include me in his decisions had left me reeling like a leaf in the wind. I had lost myself, just stumbling from one disaster to the next. Accepting that I had lost control had taken a long time. Almost as long as accepting that I would only slowly get it back.
I flipped the blanket aside and went down to the kitchen. It was, like everything else in my tower, adapted to the curve. Moving had been another part that had contributed to my healing. I had never been particularly comfortable in cities - I had always preferred nature and especially the sea. But my personal situation had not allowed me to move to the countryside. That was different now.
My job was remote and, after a few years of work experience and accumulated savings, I had bought the old lighthouse on the northern coast. It had three stories and the beacon at the top. It was no longer in use, but I had repaired the beacon and sometimes let it shine across the bay. The project had given me hope and something I could do to not only regain control of my life, but to rebuild it. At the very bottom was the narrow entryway, the kitchen and a teeny tiny bathroom. On the second floor, I had set up my study and living room. On the third floor was my bedroom. At the top, I had placed only two garden chairs and some tubs in which I wanted to grow plants in the summer.
The important thing for me was that the tower was right on the beach. I had almost a 360 degree view of the sea.
When I was sitting up by the beacon in the evening, looking out over the tidal flats, I still couldn't believe that I was actually living here. But it was true. Just as true as the fact that my past seemed to be catching up with me.
It was clear to me that I would not be able to shake Morag off forever. He had only given me time to get used to the idea that he would show up again. The only question was: what did he want? And why the heck was he still alive?
Without realizing it, I had paused in my movement and let my gaze wander off into the distance through one of the porthole windows. I shook my head, turned off the water and turned on the kettle. Then I fished for the tea.
Was it coincidence or destiny that my fingers felt the tea caddy in which I had hidden Legolas' necklace? Involuntarily I had to swallow.
No, I was not yet cured. I had only accepted that there were things that could not be forgotten. And even though I had spent years thinking about our encounter, the thought had never left me that I could only truly come to terms with everything if I once again laid eyes on the elf.
Of course, I had not told my therapist the truth about Legolas. Not even my sister. I probably would have ended up in a psychiatric ward if I had. I had talked about the organization and about Legolas needing my help. As far as I could, I had stuck to the truth. My therapist had not failed to notice that I had established a connection with the elf. She had assured me that this was quite normal. That it just happened in such a situation. She had told me that the connection I felt with him had arisen out of the moment. It had been necessary in order to survive the events. She had seemed so sure that the connection would fade when enough time had passed.
But that had never happened.
Because I hadn't told her that part of me didn't want to give up the connection. At least as long as it had taken me to process everything, I had thought about Middle Earth. And about how Legolas had probably lived there for a long time. Maybe he was even still alive? But if that was the case, surely he would have sought me out again? After all, Middle Earth was our past. And elves were immortal.
No.
Resolutely, I put the tea tin back in the cupboard.
This carousel of thoughts had never led to anything. The longer I thought about it, the clearer it became that the elf was either dead or I was just a blink of an eye in his immortal life that he didn't care about enough to repeat again. And that was the fact that hurt me the most.
I wrapped the end of the tea bag around the cup handle and was about to go back upstairs to the workroom to finish my journal entry when the doorbell rang.
With a furrowed brow, I stopped. The weather outside was so bad that the delivery men were definitely not showing up. I certainly was not going to be able to pick up my Amazon orders at the local newsstand for a few days. So who had rung the bell?
For a moment, I hesitated.
Then I turned around and went for the door.

Chapter Text

An Old Favor

My hand was steady as I pushed down the handle. I had put the cup on the counter to be on the safe side. I knew the storm would push the front door toward me as soon as I opened it.
As expected, the wind nearly knocked the handle out of my hand, but I was prepared. Hastily, I put one foot in front of the door and looked outside. It hadn't started raining yet, but it wouldn't be long now, I was certain. The beach grass that grew around the lighthouse, which stood perhaps thirty meters from the breakaway edge, bent back and forth. I had to be careful that a gust didn't drive sand into my eyes.

There was no one outside.

No car.

Not a person.

Not even an animal.

In the past, I would have wondered and closed the door again. But I knew how it had started then. I remembered the advertisement that had the word Help on it. And that's exactly why my eyes wandered down to the door mat.

This time it wasn't an advertisement for Meals on Wheels.

It was a letter.

And it was stuck between the doormat and the flowerpot, so the storm couldn't tear it away. Something inside me didn't want to bend down and pick up the envelope. But another, far greater part, had wanted nothing more than to do just that.

For a heartbeat I stared at the letter, then bent down and pulled it from under the mat. One last look into the gathering storm, and I shut the door again.

Inside, I stood frozen. The tea on the sideboard was long forgotten. The envelope between my fingers felt like a promise I didn't know I wanted to keep. Yet I didn't even know who it was from. Maybe my only neighbors, who lived on an estate several kilometers away, had finally decided to get married after years of engagement and this was their invitation. Or there was some other perfectly normal explanation that had nothing to do with what I couldn't get out of my mind even after ten years.

I shook my head. Damn it. Since Morag had reappeared, the wall I had so painstakingly erected around my memories was crumbling even more than usual. The only way to find out if I was seeing ghosts was to open the letter. But neither my legs would move, nor my fingers to tear open the envelope. My heart was hammering wildly in my chest. My insides were a mixture of excitement, fear, and... longing. As strange as it sounded.

More minutes passed before I finally did reach for my tea and walked up the spiral staircase to my workroom. Slowly, as if I were carrying the burden of the one ring to Mordor. There I dropped the letter on the desk like a snake that had bitten me. Then I climbed back onto my chair, pulled the blanket up to my chin, and stared at the envelope.

What if the contents caused everything I'd built up over the last few years to fall apart? I didn't want to start all over again. It was the same turmoil I had felt back then. The wanting to know more on one side and the fear of finding out too much. I had never really chosen a side, which was not least the fault of Legolas.

But if I was honest with myself, what I had spent the last ten years doing had been a life, but one that was too shallow for myself. And that was despite the fact that I had been doing exactly what I had always dreamed of doing: I had studied. I had found the job I had always wanted to do. I had watched my nephew grow up. And I had had some relationships with men who had been good for me. That was more than many others had. Still, it had never been enough. Only now did I begin to realize why.

Just open the damn letter, I thought angrily.

Carefully I stood up, but then stopped again in the middle of the room. The storm outside had gained strength. It howled stronger now around my lighthouse. Like a pack of wolves slowly creeping closer and closer.

I bit my lip, then grabbed the envelope and a knife lying next to it and cut open the top half. With trembling fingers, I pulled out a single sheet of paper. It was the same size as the envelope and folded once in half.

With a dry throat, I pulled it open. There wasn't much written on it. But I knew immediately that it wasn't an invitation to my neighbor's wedding. It was from Morag. I had seen his handwriting only once, when he had brought Legolas and me to his hideout, and remembered it to this day.

The twisted handwriting could not belong to anyone else but him.

He has forbidden me to contact you because he thinks that you have done enough for him. But I have seen the look in your eyes. If you want to put it behind you, April 28th is your day. Consider this the only favor I owe you for stopping Thranduil. M.

Below that he had also written down an address and time, which, how could it be otherwise, was in Hamburg.

I inhaled as shakily as my hands felt before I dropped the letter and ran down the stairs. The room had suddenly become too cramped for me. Although I loved my home, at that moment I could not bear to be confined between the walls of the tower.

Without thinking, I grabbed my windbreaker and slipped into the gumboots that stood next to the entrance. I then rushed outside.

The storm was in full swing, but I barely noticed. I needed fresh air, and where would it be fresher than in a low-pressure area sweeping across the country, taking with it everything that wasn't nail-steady?

Sand whipped in my face as I dropped onto the bench I had set up last summer, which was fortunately bolted firmly to the ground with concrete anchors. It looked out over the wildly raging sea. Why did I feel like my insides looked just like the waves breaking on the shore?

Shit.

I'd had a hunch.

Ever since Ben had discovered Morag on the playground a few months ago, I had known this would happen. I hadn't expected the bastard to discover his heart, though. How did he even know how I felt? Was I all that transparent? Or had he been keeping an eye on me the whole time?

I groaned and pressed the palms of my hands against my eyes. The storm tore the sound from my lips almost immediately.

Or was there some other reason why Morag suddenly seemed to have found his Samaritan genes? Had he ever done anything without benefiting himself? Was he possibly just messing with me? Because he knew I wouldn't say no?

Huffing, I blinked into the storm. And what was the first sentence supposed to mean? Had Legolas returned to my time without visiting me? It sounded quite like it. If I could believe Morag - and that was already not a good start for a sentence - then he was here again because he had a mission. Something seemed to bind him to this time, but did I want to know what? In any case, he obviously wanted to do without me this time. Was it up to me then to show up at the place and time Morag had noted on the paper? Why should I impose myself?

A gust tore off my hood, grabbed my hair and made it dance in the wind like the arms of a Medusa. That was different too: my hair was no longer short, I had let it grow out. And so much else was not like it was ten years ago.

Ten years.

Shit, I had gotten old.

And I was no longer the same person. Who told me that wasn't true for Legolas, as well? I closed my eyes.

April 28th.

That was the day after tomorrow.

How kind of Morag to give me a day to think it over.

If my therapist knew about this, she would flatly forbid me to even think about it. But she wasn't here.

And I knew the answer already.

Chapter Text

Past Times

It was shortly after nine when I left the freeway. The commuter traffic had long since reached its offices, which is why I had made the hour's drive with virtually no traffic jams. I almost wished there was something stopping me from doing what I was doing. I still wasn't sure if it had been the right decision. But had I had a choice?

Yes.

And that was the bad part.

This time it was my own choice. This time I had no one to blame but myself if everything went off the rails again. I told myself it wouldn't come to that, but who knew for sure? With my eyes wide open, I was running to my ruin, and why? Because I didn't manage to close the door on my own. I almost felt like an addict on the way to her first fix after a long period of abstinence. Guilty. Repulsive. But necessary - as awful as that sounded. Because the point where I woke up in the morning and didn't think first of the elf and what had happened to us had never come.

Not after a year.

Not after five.

Not after ten.

Over the years I had collected so many questions. Only one of them would be answered for me. For I would not approach Legolas. I just wanted to know if it was really him. Whether he was all right. That was all I needed to have closure: To be certain that he had lived his life and I was allowed to live mine. For whatever reason he was here. Because if he didn't call on me of his own accord, I wasn't going to force myself on him.

Even though nothing was going to happen, my heart was pounding and I was having a hard time concentrating on the road. The address was in the historic warehouse district, near the old Elbe tunnel. Not far from the place where everything had ended.

I parked the car in the nearest parking garage, pulled out a ticket and paid for two hours. That should be more than enough time and I would be able to leave without delay if I wanted to.

I felt a little silly as I pulled the hood of my windbreaker over my head as I exited the parking garage and the wool scarf up to the tip of my nose. I was serious about what I was doing. Just one look.

Just a single one.

To get near the Magellan Terraces, I had to walk a good distance through the old warehouse district. It felt strange to be back here. With the exception of that one vacation with my sister and Ben, I had never returned to this place. I remembered this place well. Legolas and I had stopped here when we had needed a breather. Only briefly and only to enjoy the view of the water and to forget for a moment why we were in the city, and yet this had been one of the moments that had burned itself firmly into my memory.

When the Magellan Terraces appeared before me, it was five to ten. The time that had been written in the letter was 10:10. So I still had a good fifteen minutes to kill.

I ducked into a bakery that gave me a good view of the terraces and ordered myself a coffee-to-go and a roll.

While I stared outside through the rain-soaked windows and eyed every pedestrian warily, I wondered if I would even recognize Legolas after all this time. Perhaps he had not returned directly from the time he had disappeared to when we had said goodbye to each other in the Old Elbe Tunnel, but just like me, only many years later? And even if not: by now he knew my world well enough not to be noticed. In any case, I didn't believe that he would wander the streets in a hospital gown again.

Likewise, I hoped he wouldn't notice me. Because my now long hair was not the only change I had undergone. My eyes wandered to my reflection in the mirror, reflected back from the glass front of the bakery: I no longer needed my glasses - I'd had my eyes lasered, and if ten years ago I'd been more of a jeans and colorful fanshirts person, now I wore clothes I would have found terribly grown-up in the past. But that's what I was, after all: grown-up.

My eyes fell on the clock hanging on the wall, and I stood up. It was time.

I quickly downed the rest of my coffee - this was a vice I had tried to break, but had failed miserably. In stressful situations, I always fell back on it, just like smoking. I wasn't proud of that, but at least I had managed to significantly reduce my cigarette intake.

I had barely left the bakery when the first drops hit me, but that wouldn't stop me. I had a plan: I would join the people waiting at the bus stop, which was directly opposite the Magellan Terraces. From there I could keep a good eye on everything and was safe myself from glances by the many people around me.

The coffee made me jittery while I waited at the bus stop for the clock to finally turn. I had not yet spotted anyone who even remotely reminded me of the elf, or of Morag. But the latter also had a talent for emerging from shadows like a ghost from the underworld. He would be the last person I would notice, if at all.

10:10.

My gaze searched the Magellan Terraces, but except for two skaters, an old lady with her dachshund, and several pedestrians hurriedly walking with their shoulders hunched against the wind, I saw no one who even resembled the elf.

10:11.

Two buses reached the stop, which was on both sides. The doors opened with a hiss and some people got on and off. I couldn't really see the bus on the opposite side.

10:12.

The doors closed again and the buses started moving at the same time. There were only two other people at the bus stop with me. My body automatically tensed as the buses cleared the view again, and I felt my breathing come in gasps. But even as my gaze wandered uninterrupted over the terraces again, I saw no one who looked like Legolas.

10:13.

Had I missed him? Or had Morag fooled me and was just calmly emptying my lighthouse? It would look a lot like him. The nervousness that had stretched me like a bow until now slowly gave way to a feeling of disillusion. Of course he hadn't come. Because he wasn't here.

10:14.

At that moment, a figure stood up at some distance from one of the benches. I had not been able to see it, because the terraces were steep and not everything had been visible from my observation point at the bus stop. The figure was dressed like all the others: jeans, a coat with the hood pulled over her head, leather boots. I wouldn't have noticed it if the wind hadn't torn the hood off the head and revealed the shimmering blond hair. It was unusually long.

I stared at the elf, who had turned to me only in profile. He was quite far away, but I was one hundred percent sure that it had to be Legolas. He had pulled something out of his pocket and was now kneeling at the water's edge, letting this something slide gently into the water before standing up again and taking a deep breath. All this time I had held my breath and not taken my eyes off from him. Morag hadn't taken me for a fool after all.

It was surreal to see him again after so long. It seemed like he hadn't aged a day, only his wardrobe had gotten a significant upgrade. But what did I expect? He was an elf. He was infinitely old, forever bound to the prime years of his body.

He seemed to be fine, even though I couldn't tell why he was here. But that didn't have to concern me in any way. Should it? I had what I had come here for. Now all I had to do was go back home.

Hesitantly, I took a step back, but just couldn't take my eyes off him. It was as if my past was appearing before me, alive and well. The past to which I had devoted so much of my present. My heart was beating so fast that I was afraid it would leap out of my throat in the next second.

You saw him, I thought. And now you're leaving. Just as you promised yourself you would.

As best I could, I suppressed the chaos of emotions raging in my chest. The urge to cross the road and reveal myself to Legolas was stronger than I had expected. Until now, fear of seeing him again had dominated, but now that I was standing here, I wanted to see him.

No. I had to stick to what I had set out to do.

Taking one last deep breath, I was about to turn away when the elf's head turned toward me. Our eyes crossed, just for a moment, before he roamed further.

He had not recognized me. Thank God! Relief and disappointment battled deep inside me, and I took another step back, still looking at him.

Legolas paused in mid-motion, frowning for a heartbeat before his gaze drilled into mine again. It all happened so quickly that I couldn't react. Or wanted to?

His eyes widened and I knew my cover had been blown. He stared at me for several seconds as if he were seeing a ghost.

Then I turned around with a sudden jolt and broke the spell.

I had already stayed too long.

Chapter Text

Someone Else

I would have liked to hit my forehead. Why hadn't I left as soon as I saw him? Now he knew that I was here and there were only two possibilities: Either he would run after me or he would let me go. I didn't know which was worse.

It wasn't until I reached the next red light that I stopped. My heart was pounding in my throat and I didn't dare look back. If he had wanted to catch up with me, he would have done it already. Wouldn't he?

Restlessly I stepped from one foot to the other, why didn't it turn green? Every second that I stood here tortured me in a way that not even Sattler could have. My stomach still tightened at the thought of the man, even after all this time.

The traffic light changed and the people who had been waiting with me started to move. I too wanted to follow them, but I didn't. Instead, I stared at the tall office buildings that had been newly built in the historic warehouse district. My mind went blank. The fear, the excitement, the empty promises to myself - everything was suddenly irrelevant.

If I was honest, I did know why I was here. I had to stop lying to myself. I could almost hear my therapist's voice urging me to take control. Running away was the exact opposite of that.
Following an impulse, I turned around.

He was standing maybe five meters away, looking as guarded as I felt. Just like Morag, not a single wrinkle had creased his face. It could have been only yesterday when he had disappeared, leaving me alone with everything.

The Elf took two steps forward, but stopped when he saw my shoulders stiffen. The tension between us was almost palpable. "Ina."

"Legolas."

"How...?"

"Morag."

"Ah."

It was as if we were completely alone in this world. The cars speeding across the intersection, the people walking past us - none of it was remotely relevant. How many times had I thought about this very moment. How many speeches had I spun in my head, one more furious than the other. But now that I was here, all the words I would have liked to hurl at him were erased.

The elf took another step toward me. As he did so, he watched my every move, as if considering whether I would slap him if he got too close. I couldn't deny it, the thought had crossed my mind. "The lighthouse suits you. I like it."

I narrowed my eyes. "What?"

"Did you think I wouldn't check on you?"

"It's been ten years, Legolas."

He lowered his eyes. "And yet here you are."

In the past, I would have retorted something like: I was just about to leave. Or, Not because of you. But we both knew that would have been a poor attempt to cover up the truth. So I just said, "Yes."

The elf raised his head, I could see the surprise in his look. I had changed. Had he, too?
We stood hesitantly in front of each other. What could I say after all this time? I'm glad you're here, how was the weather? Is it true that you made a round trip through Middle Earth - just like it says in the books? I had to swallow.

Fortunately, Legolas took the part away from me. "There is a tavern... a restaurant near us. I would be pleased if you would accompany me."

It took a moment for it to sink in to me that he was asking me, not commanding me. That this was entirely my decision. My therapist would have said, It's okay to say no.

But I didn't want to do that at all. "Okay."

We waited until the light turned green again, then we crossed the street. Silently, we walked for a bit until Legolas pointed to a staircase that led down to one of the many canals in the hanseatic city. He led the way, and I followed.

The restaurant was small and cozy. It ducked into the shadows of the bridge we had just crossed, and was little more than two windows and a door in the brick wall. Only the sign, which featured a fish, suggested that there was food here.

Inside, it was more spacious than I would have guessed, but still small enough not to get lost. The lighting was dim. And when a waitress ushered us to a table next to one of the windows, I couldn't help but ask, "Since when did you join the ranks of restaurant experts?"

We sat down. Cards were spread out in front of us. Legolas ordered a wine, and I ordered a water. After all, I still had to drive. When the waitress had left, he replied, "Morag showed me."
"Hmm."

It felt like I was walking on eggshells. We were familiar and estranged at the same time, a weird mix.

Moreover, I had never been very good at small talk. Especially not with an elf.

"Say it," he said after the waitress had set the drinks down in front of us and he had taken a sip of his wine.

Suspiciously, I folded my arms in front of my chest, "What do you want me to say?"
"The question painted on your face."

"If it's so clear, why don't you just answer it?" I glared at him. I almost regretted going along. Was that all there was to it? In my imagination, I had hyped up the moment so much that it could only become disappointing in reality, I realized now.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I sometimes forget that you experience time differently than we do. To me, it's as if only the blink of an eye has passed."

Now it was my turn to look up in surprise. Had I heard him apologize properly even once? Not really. Every apology he had given me back then had been attached to a condition. I looked at him, waiting.

"What?" asked Legolas.

"No ifs?"

"No." Pause. "I didn't think we'd ever meet again."

"Ditto." Why did I get the feeling he wanted to say more, but swallowed the words back down? The silence stretched, broken only by the sounds coming to us from the kitchen.

And then he did say it, "But I'm glad it happened."

Chapter Text

The Sea Longing

We had finished the meal. But we hadn't talked much. Every question that was on the tip of my tongue, I had swallowed back down again, because they seemed too personal in my mind. I remembered well how it had been then and I didn't know if I could handle falling into the old pattern again. Legolas must have felt the same way and so I was almost relieved when we paid and got up. All this time we had been verbally tiptoeing around each other, neither wanting to be the first to address the elephant in the room.

As we walked back outside the door of the restaurant and the cool april air welcomed me, I ran my hand through my hair and zipped up my coat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Legolas' gaze follow my motion. He had already been watching me in the restaurant when he thought I didn't notice. "You've changed."

I looked at him. "Did you expect anything else?"

"I… don't know what I expected."

The situation was stressing me out. So I voiced what we were both thinking, "What are you doing here, Legolas? You hardly returned to the city for the good weather."

He looked out at the water of the canal. It was choppy, the storm of the day before yesterday still hadn't quite subsided. "It's a long story."

"Isn't it always?"

"So long I'd better have told it to you inside."

He hadn't changed. Inwardly, I counted to ten before replying, "If you don't want to talk about it, just say so. I didn't come here to pick up where we left off."

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Then how?"

Why did he seem embarrassed all of a sudden? It wasn't like him at all. Maybe I was wrong and he had changed after all. "It was an invitation."

"Oh." I slapped a hand over my mouth, but couldn't help feeling terribly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be. You're not the only one who's had time to think, Ina." He made a motion with his arm toward the stairs. I followed his lead and together we walked slowly back toward the Megallan Terraces. Legolas seemed to be searching for words until he finally said, "You're right, I'm here for a reason."

"It's not about the end of the world again, is it?", I asked, unable to stop myself from sounding tense.

He smirked. "No, it's less dramatic this time."

"Well, I'm relieved about that."

We had reached the terraces and Legolas led me down to the water. There we sat down on one of the benches. It took him a few minutes before he continued, "It's a personal affair."

"Personal, huh?" I bit my lip to keep from grinning, but failed completely.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing," I said innocently. "I'm just admiring the fact that even after all this time, you still haven't forgotten how to be fluent in riddles."

He blinked, only to wipe his brow a moment later. I could see he was smirking again. The rift that had separated us at the restaurant was gone. It felt like the best moments we had shared the last time we had met. How had this happened so quickly? And would it last?

"I'm here because I have a problem," he said after a while.

"Which you don't like to admit."

"No."

"What kind of problem is it?"

The elf leaned back and looked toward the water. "Have I ever told you what the sea means to us Elves?"

"No," I replied, "but I have read Tolkien's books."

"Then you know that even the cry of a seagull can be enough to spark the longing for the sea... and ultimately for the Old West within us."

"The Old West?", I asked.

"Valinor. The immortal lands."

I had to think for a moment before I remembered what he was talking about. "Where the elven ships go?"

"Yes." He stared out at the water. "The first time I heard the cry of a gull was in Pelargir, when we were about to attack the ships of the Corsairs."

It seemed that he saw the scene in his mind's eye and I didn't dare to interrupt him. Even though I had forbidden myself to do so: I wanted to know why he was here. And for the first time he seemed to want to tell me by himself. "The warning of Lady Galadriel still sounded in my ears: Legolas Greenleaf, she said, in joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea! If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore, thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more!"

"Very poetic."

"And true," he said. "I didn't want to admit it and focused on the task ahead, but one look at the waters was enough to awaken the longing in my heart."

"And then?"

"We won the War of the Ring and rebuilt the world. In the thirtieth year of Aragorn's reign, I was entrusted with the quest for Narya."

"The Ring of Fire," I whispered. I could still remember it well.

"And here, at this very spot, I heard the cry of the gulls a second time."

I looked up: Sure enough, two birds were circling directly overhead.

"That was enough to know that I had to return. That Valinor would be waiting for me as soon as my tasks were done." He fell silent before continuing. "I saw much of Middle Earth, but I never forgot the cry of the gulls. When there was nothing left to discover and Middle Earth could be safely left in the hands of men, I set out with a good friend."

My Lord of the Rings knowledge had long since stopped being limited to the movies, yet I interjected, "But hadn't the last ship to Valinor sailed long ago?"

He nodded. "We built one of our own."

"You built a ship?", I asked. At that, I must have sounded utterly in disbelief, so much so that the Elf took his eyes off the water. "Is it that unlikely?"

"Well... when you put it that way..." I broke off. "Sorry. You built the ship. And then what?"

"We sailed to Valinor, and we were warmly welcomed." Whether a dwarf had really been warmly received in the sacred Elven lands I strongly doubted. But I said nothing and let him continue speaking. "Once there, I expected that my longing for the sea would finally subside."

"But it didn't," I concluded. "Is that normal?"

"No." He rubbed his index finger. "The longing for the sea, as I said before, is nothing more than the longing for Valinor. Once there, I should have been content."

"And you weren't."

He shook his head. "No one could explain it. Not even the wisest Elven lords, who had arrived in Valinor long before I did. Finally, I spoke to Galadriel, whose warning had, in a sense, foreshadowed my... condition."

Galadriel... I frowned. "She was also a ring-bearer, wasn't she?"

"She was entrusted with Nenya, that's right," Legolas said.

"Was she able to give you any advice?"

He pressed his lips together tightly before saying, "She was very cryptic in her phrasing."

"Oh." I couldn't help but feel my tone tinged with a bit of mischief.

Legolas raised his head. "It must seem like retributive justice to you."

"Never," I replied, the corners of my mouth twitching.

Absorbed in memories of his past, the elf only shook his head with a small grin and continued, "Eventually, she opened up to me that her warning may not necessarily have referred to Valinor. I should think about where the longing for the sea was greatest." He let the last words hang in the air until I understood what he was implying. "Here?", I asked, just to be sure.

"Right here," he said.

"That's why you came back?"

"Yes."

Taking a deep breath, I leaned back. "But what do you hope to find here, Legolas?"

"I am not sure," he said quietly. "Only one thing is undeniable: it is not Pelargir that my heart has called for most."

Chapter Text

A Suspicion

After his last sentence, we had lapsed into silence again. I let myself think about what Legolas had said, and something didn't make sense to me: "So you went time traveling on the off chance, although you don't even know what you're supposed to be looking for here? How is that even possible - to jump from the past to the future just like that? Back then you said flying was like a miracle to you, but you're wandering through the centuries like it's a walk in the park." Distrust had crept back into my voice and I couldn't stop my thoughts from falling back into old patterns.

But the elf surprised me again. "Of course not." He ran his hand over his face. "The first time it was... necessary. At that time, I had to consult with others also and nearly didn't get permission."

"Who do you consult with about that?" I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "I mean... considering some recent developments, maybe that would be an option for us too."

Legolas shook his head. "You're not an elf."

"And I have to be one to bargain with destiny?"

"You could say that."

"Too bad."

An old couple walked past us, right alongside the water's edge. "And this time?", I asked, after Legolas continued to stare at the waves lapping increasingly violently against the concrete.
"This time I was lucky. Galadriel made it possible for me."

I frowned. Something about his tone didn't sit well with me. "But?"

He exhaled. "Nothing though. I'm here to find out why the longing for the sea still hasn't let me go."

"I see." I knew immediately that he was hiding something from me, but unlike before, I didn't have to rely on him today. So I would do what I had intended to do even before he invited me."

Then I wish you the best of luck with it." I stood up.

He snapped out of his thoughts as if I had given him an electric shock. "Ina."

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you one more question before you go?"

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Fine."

"Why did you come here?"

Well, why had I come here? I would have loved to turn around and leave right then and there, but I had let him ask the question, so now I had to answer it. Still, I wished he hadn't asked.

I stared at him silently. Answers ranging from sarcasm to anger flashed through my mind. But all that was left was the truth: "I'm having a hard time forgetting everything that's happened."

"All of what?"

"The stuff we went through. You know, back then."

He held my gaze for a moment before lowering his. Had I seen something like regret in his eyes? "I feel the same way," he finally said softly. And before I could say anything back, he added, "I'm not here to ask for your help yet again."

"I know."

"Morag?"

"Hmm."

The elf shook his head once. "I made him swear not to contact you."

"He didn't keep his word."

"Obviously," he retorted with a sour smile.

I was still standing in front of the bench; Legolas had followed suit. Was this the time for us to say goodbye to each other?

Neither of us made an effort to say anything, I found it difficult to look him in the eye. In my chest the feelings were fighting and I didn't know why I was still here. Why he was still here.

"Ina...," Legolas began, but I interrupted him with a wave of my hand. "Do you have a plan?"

"That..." He shook his head again. "You shouldn't be interested in that."

"And what if I am?"

"Then I'd say you're just as stubborn as you were ten years ago."

"Well." I crossed my arms in front of my chest, "Bad weeds grow tall."

The elf blinked before saying, "It took me a while, but I came to understand that my actions back then had the exact opposite effect of what I actually wanted."

"And what was that?"

"To protect you."

I snorted. "I'm not a damsel in distress."

"No, truly," he grinned, but caught himself just as quickly. "Still, that doesn't mean I'm asking for your help."

"No one said you had to ask."

"Ina…"

Suddenly I knew exactly why I was here. The denial mechanisms had worked well until now. Because part of me was still afraid of what had happened back then. After all, I had barely escaped with my life. It had taken years to accept that, but just now I had understood that I would only be able to come to terms with everything if I faced a similar situation again. It might not be wise, and it was the complete opposite of what I had set out to do, but I was as sure as I had ever been that I had to do it.

Legolas, who obviously must have seen what I was thinking in the look on my face, said, "No."

"That is not for you to decide."

"It is my story. I very much have a say in it."

"Are you afraid I'll find out too much about you?"

He winced, barely noticeable. "That's not the point."

"I think it is."

The elf looked exasperated as he took a step back and looked to the water again. "I promised I wouldn't put you in the same situation again. Why didn't he shut up?" he added, more to himself than to me. I could hear he wished he could put his hands around Morag's neck.

"Your promises seem to be quite short-lived," I countered cheerfully. "Besides, I thought there would be no danger this time?"

Legolas turned back to me. "I did not say that."

"But what?"

"I said it wasn't about the end of the world."

He was right. Of course, even with a task like this, there could be trouble. After all, he was being honest now.

"Listen to me, Ina," he said imploringly, "I have a suspicion of what it might be about, but that suspicion is anything but certain. You haven't recovered from the last time, why do you want to do it again?"

I raised my head. "You know why?"

Legolas looked confused. "What?"

"If it had just been about what happened then, I'm sure I could have ticked it off after a few years. But I... I never knew if you had succeeded. Whether everything had worked out. If we did fight for nothing. That was eating me up inside." I concealed the fact that he, too, was important to me. Something told me it wasn't the right time to say it out loud.

"I did," he said softly. "Now you know. Go home."

"Are you saying that because you really want me to, or because you want to protect me again even though I didn't ask for it? You can't seriously prefer Morag's company to mine!"

With that, I had him smiling. "I would indeed enjoy your company," he said, already holding my gaze again. My heart leapt.

"Good." I planted my hands on my hips. "What suspicions do you have?"

Chapter Text

Nenya

The elf seemed to have given up. Maybe he had actually learned to accept my wishes, or he was just tired of arguing against me. "Let's go back to the restaurant. You must be cold."

With a grin, I shook my head. "Oh no, I know a better place."

"Oh yeah?"

"Morag doesn't have a monopoly on hidden dive bars," I said. "Come."

Legolas looked hesitant; he must have seen the mischief flash in my eyes. But he joined me. "Can we talk there?"

"Among other things."

"Among... other things?" he echoed, but I ignored him and just kept walking straight ahead. Yes, I had only been to Hamburg twice before. But that didn't apply to a good friend of mine. She had only ever visited me in my tower so far, it was about time I returned the favor. Moreover, the store where she worked was not far from here. I had planned to visit her today, to get wasted after one look at the elf, but that was cancelled.

We arrived at La Sage about fifteen minutes later. It was already open, usually it was a nightclub, so there was hardly any clientele there during the day. The reason why I had chosen this place was simple: There were separees where we could talk undisturbed about the things the elf hadn't told me yet and which I wanted to know, in order not to rush into another disaster with my eyes open. Besides, there was always a security guard at the door even at this hour, I knew that from a safe source. Perfect - just in case Legolas' new task didn't go as smoothly as expected.

I had briefly written to my friend Daria and asked her to reserve one of the separees for us, which was no real challenge at noon. She apologized because, contrary to expectations, she had to take the day off, but made sure that I only had to say her name to be let in. As we entered the sparsely lit lounge, we were greeted by an even more sparsely dressed barmaid who showed us the way to the separee. The elf had said nothing since entering, but his look spoke volumes.

As soon as the barmaid left us alone, I pulled the curtain of the separee close. "There." I dropped onto one of the plush red sofas. "Now we can talk."

Legolas sat somewhat stiffly on a heart-shaped armchair with a silk cover. "Do you think it's appropriate..." he began, but then broke off when the barmaid placed two water bottles in front of us and disappeared right after. "What is this place?" he hissed cautiously. His cheeks had turned pink.

"What do you think?", I asked. I had a hard time suppressing my grin. "It's a strip club. So, at night at least."

"An establishment for floosies?" the elf asked in a piqued tone, and I couldn't hold it together any longer. "Jesus Christ, I wouldn't have thought you were such a prude! In your three thousand years, you must have seen a naked woman before."

"Well..." he continued, but I raised my hand. "I don't really want to know. Let me assure you: I didn't choose this place to embarrass you, but because we really are undisturbed here. If I recall last time, Sattler's people were lurking around every corner. No one comes in here with guns anytime soon." The oldest profession in the world had a certain tradition here in the Hanseatic city. Although there was more shadow than light, at least we now had a place where no one would interrupt us. "So?", I asked for that reason.

The elf relaxed a bit before replying, "It's about the Rings of Power."

"Again?"

He shrugged. "I didn't choose this."

"Sorry."

After a brief pause, during which he had let his gaze drift over the decor, which admittedly took some getting used to, he said, "After Narya, the Ring of Fire, Nenya, the Ring of Water, also disappeared. Only Vilya remained with Elrond when he sailed for Valinor."

After nearly perishing over an ancient ring ten years ago, I had been reading up on the rings that had been forged to control elves, men, and dwarves. Nenya had belonged to Galadriel, as Legolas had already said. "The ring that had the power to protect from evil, right?"

Legolas nodded. "Before the rings lost their power. Do you remember?"

I didn't have to think long: before the destruction of the One Ring, power had been inherent in the other Rings. After the destruction, magic had left them. In the hearts of the people, however, who continued to believe in their power, the rings still had great influence. That is why Legolas had fought so hard to bring Narya back: Without the Ring, the people of his time had apparently lost their belief in peace and unity, which in turn had led to wars and rifts. Something he would not allow to happen.

"However, Nenya also had another... side effect. Before its magic was destroyed, of course," Legolas continued.

"Side effect?", I asked, the confusion in my voice clearly audible.

"In its bearer, and in all the elves who came too close to it, it triggered a longing for the sea. I came in contact with it when I first came to Lothlorien with the companions. From Galadriel I also received the warning about the sea. If only I had known what I know now!"

"So you blame the ring?" I looked at him doubtfully. "But it hasn't had magical powers for a long time. How can it still be responsible for you not finding peace even in Valinor?"

"I don't know," he said quietly. "But there can be no other possibility. My father must have stolen it along with Narya and brought it to this time. That's why I'm drawn back here."

Taking a deep breath, I leaned against the sofa. I appreciated Legolas speaking to me so openly, but I thought it highly unlikely that Nenya was actually here. "Why would Thranduil have stolen it?"

He seemed to have thought about that as well. "Because it protected against evil. Also, Nenya still had an ideal value to the people of my time."

"In what way?"

"They believed that both rings together protected them from the evil of the world," Legolas tried to explain his train of thought.

"Even if there was no magic left in the rings?"

"Even then, yes."

"Weird." I rubbed my forehead. "And why are you only noticing that Nenya is missing now? Shouldn't you have been looking for both rings then?" The longer I thought about it, the more questions piled up in my brain like a mountain range.

"No one knew that Nenya was stolen," he said.

"And what the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve over," I said. "I see. So the theft of Nenya came to light, and that's why you had to do something?"

"It wasn't quite that simple, but you can boil it down to this," he admitted.

I would have loved to pepper him with more questions about what had happened after his return. But another query wouldn't leave me alone: "So you're here to get Nenya. And then?"

"I hope that completes my task," he replied simply.

It all seemed far too far-fetched. "Just finding the ring is supposed to turn off your ocean longing? Sorry, but that doesn't sound very convincing."

"It's all I have at the moment," he said curtly.

"Well," I leaned forward and took a sip of water. "Then we should really find out more."

Chapter Text

Elven Magic

"You don't really want that," Legolas said. He still seemed as tense as at the beginning. Whether that was because of the plush chairs or because I had decided to join him a second time, I couldn't say for sure.

"What I want is my business," I said.

"I remember the last time you were changing your mind almost every hour."

"Only because you treated me like a piece of cargo."

We glared at each other, then he nodded reluctantly. "You're right. It would have been different if I'd included you."

"Thanks, I guess." I looked at him. The whole thing seemed to be taking a toll on him. If he had been honest, and I assumed he had been, the situation he was in now was very different from the one he had been in then. Ten years ago he had known what was coming - more or less. He had already had a suspicion and a clear mission: to bring Narya back to Middle Earth. But this time? Just because he believed that his condition would disappear if he found the second ring, didn't mean that was the case. And something inside me advised me to look even closer. Legolas had always had a tendency to tell only half the truth. Something inside me told me that this time, too, this was true. So I leaned forward and asked, "How did you get back? I mean... after you find Nenya."

"Same as last time."

Was it my imagination, or had his tone sounded uncertain for a millisecond? "And how did that work, if you don't mind me asking?"

"That's not important."

"Oh yes it is."

"Ina..." He propped a hand on his knee. "It's... elven magic, all right?"

"Okay..." I had narrowed my eyes. No, something was very wrong here, and I was yet to find out what it was. "If that's the case, why don't we start where it all left off? In the tunnel."

"That's why I'm here."

"Hm." Maybe I'd get more out of him there. Yes, he was more open than last time, but that didn't mean he'd told me everything. "It's not far from here. We can leave right now."

He hesitated before nodding. "Very well, then."

Most of all, Legolas seemed relieved to finally be able to leave the separee behind. But before I made that concession to him, I stood up and positioned myself in front of the exit. "I know you didn't ask for my help and you don't want me around, but think of it as making up for what you did. I've spent ten years thinking about this story and even though I've built a life I'm proud of, it has never let me go."

I held his gaze for a heartbeat before stepping aside to let him through. But the elf didn't go. "You truly have always known how to use words to win," he said, and I heard the bitterness in his voice. He knew as well as I did that I had grabbed him where it hurt: in his guilt. But this time, it wouldn't just be about him and his mission, it would also be about me finally getting some closure with our encounter. He owed me that much.

That's why I said, "You can't choose your talents."

The corners of Legolas' mouth twitched, taking the edge off the situation. It was a strange moment: we had shared such intimate moments that I felt almost as close to him as to a good friend. I had slept in his freaking arms! And yet... I had never been sure what it had been from his side. I hardly knew anything about him personally. Except what was in the books. And that only because I had read it, not because he had told it to me. This ambivalence, this lack of knowledge had eaten away at me over the years. Had I only been a means to an end? Had I been mistaken when I had had the feeling in some situations that something like friendship had developed between us over the weeks we had spent together? Legolas had a way about him of telling off the world, only sometimes I had managed to break through this wall.

If I was honest, those were the questions I wanted answered. Ever since he'd told me in that damn port tavern that he couldn't give me what I wanted. Even though I had answered him honestly then, I didn't think he had really understood what I was after. In any case, we had never talked about it.

"Well then." He made a hand gesture toward the exit.

"Well then," I said, pulling back the curtain of the separee.

For the ordered water I put a note on the table. Then we left the La Sage together heading for the harbor.

On the way there we did not speak. Only when the tunnel appeared in front of us did I stop. The memory of the last time we had stood here overtook me with a force that I had not expected. Briefly, I felt Thranduil's grip around my neck again as I tried to reach for Narya. I went to my throat and had to swallow.

"Are you all right?" The elf had stepped up next to me at the bridge railing, which faced the entrance to the tunnel. His eyes were alert.

"It's nothing." I quickly averted my gaze and hurried down the stairs toward our destination.

It was the middle of the day. Unlike then, we were not alone as we descended into the tunnel. The tourists surrounded us like a swarm of flies, reassuring me. Still, my heart was beating faster than usual when we reached the bottom of the stairs.

Legolas stopped. "There are too many people."

"I know."

"Maybe we should come back later."

The thought of climbing into the tunnel again that night made me nervous. Besides, I had only taken leave for today and tomorrow and would have to be back at my computer after the weekend. "Let's give it a try," I said because of that.

The elf seemed unconvinced, but as we followed the tunnel, there were soon only two couples left walking ahead of us. Most of the people seemed to be just taking a peek and not really wanting to cross under the river.

Simultaneously, we had stopped at the exact spot where we thought the entrance to the hidden room was. I still remembered it well and also the person who had used it for himself.

We exchanged a glance. Then Legolas put a hand on the stone. He murmured something, but nothing at all happened.

"What are you trying to do?", I asked as I stepped next to him keeping an eye on the tunnel. We were sure to get strange looks if the elf started talking to the wall in his own language. And who knew if someone else wouldn't catch on.

"The door is secured with elven magic. I'm looking for the key."

"For a word?"

"Aye."

I raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. The scene reminded me of Moria, but this wasn't a dwarven door. And Thranduil would not have made it easy for anyone.

The elf kept trying, until at some point I put a hand on his upper arm. Some distance away, the next group of humans approached. "This is of no use, Legolas."

"Just one more try..."

"People are coming."

He turned away. "You're right." I saw the doubt written across his face as we waited for the group to pass. When they were out of earshot, I asked, "How was the door opened last time?"

"My father. He opened it so he could meet us."

"Well." I motioned Legolas away from the door and let my gaze slide over the wall. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"What do you mean?" the elf asked, but I raised my finger. I was looking for something specific. For I had remembered what had happened last time. A quick glance to the left, then to the right, and I stretched until I reached the stucco element that had slid into the wall ten years ago, just before the door had opened.

I pushed.

And the door swung open to the inside.

"Elven magic, yes?", I asked, meeting Legolas' eyes that widened in surprise. "After you."