Willow panted as she sprinted along the narrow stone pathways of Findlay Park. The park was a short walking distance from the high-end middle-class neighborhood of Amber's home. A beauteous place, it was, covered in lush green, black cherry and sugar maple trees, sharp blades of freshly cut grass and seasonal perennials filling the air with aromatic fragrance. It was nothing compared to the beauty of the wild in Middle Earth, but she enjoyed spending time there. Lately, she'd found herself there more often than not, needing time alone to clear her erratic thoughts.

She'd still not divined a way of return to Middle Earth. With each passing day, her hope dwindled. The possibility of continuing her life without Legolas seemed to loom like a dark shadow over the rest of her life. The weight of Brom's stinging words hung heavy in her thoughts of late. She startled from sleep to nightmarish visions that she'd grown old and never saw Legolas again. Sometimes, in her nightmares, he would find her with another man and ask why she'd forgotten him? Why didn't she wait for him? She held on to hope but as Maia grew the need for a father became more abundantly clear. In defiance of her efforts, Maia continued to address Brom as 'Dada'. In part having someone she can address as such filled her heart with joy but the dread of it being the wrong man left a bitter taste in her mouth. He was alive and well somewhere, yet she let another man take his place. A sickening feeling took shape in the pit of her stomach as she thought of Brom.

In spite of how cruel she'd been to him, Brom was a good man. He genuinely seemed to care for both Maia and for her. He'd even gone to ridiculous lengths to include himself in their lives. From the first, she thought him seeking sexual favors from her but the more she's come to know him, she knew he was after more. He was after something much more permanent than a simple tryst.

She gave in to the fear of her growing desire for him. Something deep and primal took hold in the pit of her stomach whenever he was around. A few times she caught herself fantasizing about tearing the clothes from his delicious body and fucking him until they both needed a helmet.

She did not want to confused appreciation of his kindness for attraction but the more she considered it, the more she realized, if she were completely honest, it was more than appreciation. Part of her desired Brom, if for nothing more than the security of knowing she would not be alone and Maia would have a loving father, something she never had.

She stopped, looking toward the rising sun. Nothing ever felt as good as when the sun's warm rays were upon her, rejuvenating every cell in her body. Rivulets of sweat left chills as they ran down her face. The morning breeze blew wisps dark hair that clung to her wet face. The morning air was cool, as it fanned her face, giving the promise of a beautiful day ahead. Spring was nearly over, summer would soon approach. She always felt best during summer, when the earth was closest to the celestial body she represents.

She turned to languorously make her way back home when she suddenly felt a presence. A shadow stalked her in the distance. Someone or something was following her. Since her first experience with Orcs, she would never again take the chance of being attacked in the open. She turned around the community center, a large but bland white building that stood at the mouth of the park, welcoming visitors as they came in and wishing them farewell as the pass to leave. The figure gave chase. To be certain of its pursuit she made another sharp turn towards the public toilets.

She pressed herself closer to the dark entrance of the bathroom. She slowed her steps to ensure that the stalker was close enough for a strategic takedown. The abettor's shadow cast long against the concrete floor in the early morning sun, as it drew nearer. She would not wait for her enemy to attack her, she turned to do just that. She spun quickly on the ball of one foot, while the other was brought high, hitting the man squarely on the back of his head. He tumbled to his knees and slumped forward onto his side. She gasped immediately recognizing the fallen figure.

"Holy, fuck, Brom! what the hell were you thinking?" She rushed to his side dusting off his grey sweatshirt across his chest and arms. He looked dazed rubbing the back of his head, where her blow struck hardest.

"Damn Rambo, that's some kick. You sure you're not taking some kind of self-defense or martial arts class I should know about. Jesus girl, you rang my fucking bell." He said stumbling as he tried to stand.

"Stop following women like some perverted creep, then you can avoid situations like this." She fired back, helping him to his feet.

"Easy, Billy Blanks, I saw you running this morning on my way in and I wanted to walk you back home. I didn't think the effort would nearly cost me my life." He said giving her a charming boyish toothy grin. She shook her head at his foolishness. She near killed him and yet still he could level that kind of smile at her.

"Brom what are you doing out here? You work nights, you should go home and get some rest." She stood arms folded facing him. Nothing he ever did seemed to make sense to her.

"You've been avoiding me." He said pointedly, "I think it's because the last time we were together I kissed you and you kissed me back." He said feeling a little self-satisfied.

"Oh that," She feigned ignorance. "You can hardly call that a kiss, Brom."

"Trust me when I tell you every inch of me was feeling it." His voice dropped in tenor. She would be a fool to miss the insinuation in his voice.

"Brom, this can't happen. I am tired of telling you." She closed her eyes hoping he wouldn't notice the way the lingered on him. Her mouth said the words, but it was clear she did not mean them.

"Then why can't you look at me? Why can't you talk to me?" When she opened her eyes again, the landed on the wideness of his chest. His thumb grazed the ugly brownish green of her fading bruises. He let his hand slip down lower and graze the fullness of her lips. He parted them with his thumb and let it slide in the opposite direction over her heart-shaped upper lip.

His blue eyes fixed on her. He could hear her heart beating as rapidly as if it were his own. Perhaps it was his, as fate would have it, she consented to what happened next. His lips briefly but gently made contact with her own. The whole world went quiet around him and then like a flood heat rushed to his core swelling his manhood to full length in moments. His arms were suddenly around her waist. Her own were flung about his neck, clinging to his broad shoulders. She shuddered as his mouth found her neck and ear.

A maddening desire to draw her closer urged him as he pulled her up to his height and wrapped her thick thighs around his waist. Her hands fisted curling raven locks at his nape and alternated between grasping firm muscular shoulders, squeezing her generous breast flush against his chest, a point he did not miss. He pressed his pelvis at the warm burrow between her thighs and she felt him brush against her heated core.

A not so gentle tug pulled at the hair on his crown, and he stopped very suddenly, dropping Willow to her feet and releasing her from his embrace. Flushed and confused she stared up at Brom curiously. The glimmer of the sharp point of a long knife, danced in her vision against the sunlight as it pressed against Brom's throat. She had not seen nor heard this foe approach. She looked to the wielder of the monstrous blade and her eyes snapped open wide in surprise.

Legolas' black stare trapped Willow with inaction, as he pressed his blade to Brom's windpipe. His anger barely in check as he breathed fire in her direction. He was angrier than she'd ever seen him.

"I will dispatch this brigand...Nay, this swine, then you and I will have words, wife." Willow swallowed hard passed the nervous lump in her throat. She hoped all the Gods would be with her tonight, she and Brom may very well be with them on the morrow.