Title: Drawn Away
Author: Jinni (druscilla@cox.net)
Rating: PG13
Pairing: W/Legolas
Genre: BtVS/LotR Crossover.
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. The wonderful world of Middle Earth is Tolkien’s.
Distribution: WLF, WLS, NHA, BMP, Aislin. All others who are archiving my things may have this one too. Anyone else, ask first, I haven’t said no yet.
Author’s Notes: Pairing #111 at The Quickie Challenge http://quickie.moonlitpaths.com -- Everyone is invited to participate.

~*~

She saw them when they first came into Lorien, a weary band of travelers, out on a quest that seemed impossible from the whispers of those in the trees.

That was when she first saw Him.

He had a bow slung over his shoulder, a quiver of arrows upon his back. She leaned over the spun-moonlight railing of her bower, looking down with curiosity at this newcomer, a twinge of something she didn’t understand surging through her body. He fit in here more than the others did, but he too was different. Not one of the males of Lorien, and no one she recognized from Rivendell, though many from that city had visited before.

His hair was blonde, tied back by tiny braids that fell perfectly, a trick she had yet to manage with her own thick locks, which now fell freely to her lower back.

"Four years living with us, working alongside of us, learning our ways and customs. Four long years and none of the males of our city have turned your head the way he does now. Willow, you perplex me."

She turned, sparing a smile for the elf that stood behind her.

"Oh, shush, ‘big brother’." She spoke the term with all the affection she would have given to a true, blood, relative; though he could never be as such to her except in heart and spirit. "He’s pretty to look at."

It was more than that, her brain screamed, urged on by her soul; but she wouldn’t give voice to a feeling she herself could not name. Not yet.

"He’s a prince. From Mirkwood."

"A prince?" She scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "You’re joking, right? An Elven prince, traveling alongside such ruffians? Haldir, quit teasing me."

The blonde elf raised an eyebrow of his own.

"Do you know me to make jokes lightly?"

She shook her head, mouthing a silent ‘no’.

"Then why do you assume I do so now?" He smirked, a casual curl of his lip. "He is Legolas and a prince. And, as far as those ‘ruffians’ go, one of them is Aragorn."

"No!" She gasped, shocked. The heir of Gondor? Here? In Lorien? Why would he not be back in Rivendell, spending the last of his time with the Lady Arwen before the ships left for the Undying Lands? He was a part of this quest? This Fellowship? She truly must not have been looking very hard at the members of that little group to miss seeing Aragorn’s chiseled countenance, one that she had seen once before while visiting Rivendell.

"Yes." He teased. "Yet your eyes do not land on him, one of your own kind. You seek out the beauty of young Legolas with your eyes, and I know only that it disturbs me, because I see something in your eyes that I have witnessed only a few times in my life. . ."

"And what would that be? Lust? Because, if so, you haven’t been looking in the right places. I’m sure a good pub would let you view many sides of lustiness."

Haldir threw her a glare.

"That is not what I meant, little sister."

But he did not elaborate on what he had meant any further than that, taking his leave without another word to attend to the Lord and Lady of Lorien as the Fellowship was presented.

~*~

She trailed down the twisting, delicate stairs that led down from her bower, wandering aimlessly, her eyes full of tears. The music of the elves was a thing of beauty, but nothing was so beautiful that it could stop the pain of loss she felt over what they sang.

Gandalf was dead.

Her friend.

Her mentor in all things Middle Earth.

He was gone.

She fell to her knees, unconcerned that she would ruin the dress she wore. Her hands stole up to cover her face as the singing flowed over her, through her. Tears wound their way from her eyes, down over cheeks that were so pale as to rival the heavenly glow of the very elves that had adopted her as one of their own that fateful day four years ago when she had fell, bewildered, from the sky to land at their very feet.

"Are you alright?"

Willow didn’t bother to look up, merely shaking her head ‘no’ in response to the question. She hurt inside over this loss. Gandalf had been a great man and would truly be honored in the heavens. He had strove to find the answer to sending her home for years before finally giving up. And for that he would always have had her friendship and gratitude.

"Come." The voice was speaking again to her, a hand on her elbow urging her from the ground. "His loss is dear to all of us, but you will catch cold out here in such a delicate dress."

She nodded, mute, her eyes to the ground. Her cloak was still in her room, hanging near the door. She had not intended to wander the forest tonight; but the music had called to her.

"Thank you for bringing me to my sen. . .ses. . ." She murmured, her voice breaking as she looked up into the face of the one that had helped her from the ground.

From the dumbfounded look on his face, she could only hope that he felt the same way. Speechless, breathless, like something you had never known you were missing had suddenly come rushing up and jumped, forcibly, into your very soul. She had felt a portion of it earlier, on the balcony, watching him with his friends. But now, looking into his eyes, it all came crashing back.

This is was Haldir had meant.

Not lust.

Soulbound.

"Dear Goddess. . ." She whispered the expletive to the deity of her home realm;  knowing that those in this realm would just have to understand.

"I – " Legolas paused and shook his head, giving her a rueful look. There was a faint blush on his cheeks, something Willow hadn’t seen before in an elf. She reached out, running a finger along the normally pale skin, so soft and warm to the touch.

"Forgive me." He murmured at last, tilting his head so that his entire cheek was more readily accessed by her whispering, caressing, fingers. "But I do not know your name."

"Willow." She informed him softly. "Adopted sister of Haldir."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady." His manners and wit regained, the elf lifted her hand to his lips; the kiss a mere breath across her skin. "My name is –"

"Legolas. Prince of Mirkwood." She smiled, giggling gently at his surprise. "Haldir told me." She offered by way of explanation.

"And yet he did not feel gracious enough to impart information concerning his beautiful sister to me." Legolas smirked, just a touch wickedly. "Such a dear friend I have."

Willow laughed, her earlier sadness forgotten. His hand was still holding hers, having never released it after the chivalrous kiss he had laid upon it. The touch of his skin to hers was like electricity, flowing from one to another like the rivers to the sea. It was tantalizing and pleasurous; and filled with that same sense of ‘completeness’ that came to her every time she glanced into his eyes.

"Would you like to walk?" She asked quietly, not wanting their moment together to end too soon. "I can get my cloak if you’re worried about the cold."

"I will lend you mine." He offered, pulling the grey-green material from his shoulders. He draped it around her shoulders, locking the clasp into place. He would need to have words with Haldir later. For one to ask everything there was to know about this heavenly being standing before him, how a woman of the race of Man had come to be adopted by his family.

And, for two, to announce his intentions. It was a formality. They had felt It. The Soulbonding. She had felt it just as surely as he had. And now there was no turning back, even if they wanted to. They would need each other.

But, for now, they could just walk; hand in hand, through the beauty of Lorien.

~*~

"I will miss you."

"And I you, big brother!" Willow cried, her voice filled with untold sadness, though her heart was overflowing with nervous excitement at what lay before her.

"But," She continued on. "He is my heart. And it is my heart I need to follow now, during these hard times. Besides, I am a witch and a warrior in my own right, I can do naught but help them in this quest."

Haldir shut his eyes, blocking from view the pain he was feeling. Who would have known that he would grow to love this woman standing in front of him as he loved his own blood relations. And now she was going out with the Fellowship, following Legolas.

"I will miss you." He repeated, simply, opening watery eyes. "Please be safe. Come back to us whole and unharmed. The ships will be sailing soon – and Legolas is due to be upon them anyway."

Willow nodded, pulling his head down so that she could lay a light kiss on his forehead.

"I won’t miss the ships, Hal. Don’t worry. And you and I will see each other again one day, don’t let it trouble you."

He nodded, placing a kiss of his own onto her forehead. He held her face between his hands, staring into her eyes.

"If he hurts you –"

"You’ll be the first to know." She assured him, grinning. "I must go now. . . they’re ready to leave."

Haldir stepped back, the corner of his mouth twitching up in the faint expression that passed as a smile on his normally stern face.

And then he turned, walking away while he still had enough emotional control to do so.

~*~

The boats set out from the river bank, slowly gaining speed as they made their way from Lorien, gifts of the Lady in their hands, on their backs, in their pouches. She had been quite generous, in Willow’s opinion.

The red haired witch looked over her shoulder, meeting Legolas’ eyes as he rowed the boat with what could only be called a look of tenderness. Had she felt like this with Oz once upon a time ago?

No.

Legolas was, quite literally, her soul mate. She had never felt this need, or emotion, with anyone else.

"What are you think of, my Willow?"

She smiled and turned back to the front,, letting her answer drift upon the wind to his keen Elvish ears.

"That I think that I shall love you, my prince. In fact. . . I know I will."

~*~The End~*~