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Legolas had never thought he would truly fall in love. He had lived for a very long time and had never met a woman he was drawn to or a princess he thought could love him.
This was because he had not visited Rohan recently. When the Hunters and Gandalf rode in slowly, he felt a strange tug in his soul, as if something was wrong. He thought it to be the yearning for life, for trees. The capital was dead. The longing was for more than that.
She was standing proud when he saw her in the light, with an air of knowledge and sadness that he related to. He saw her eyes slide over him to Aragorn, and the Man looked at her.
She saw him afterwards as an Elf of the living things, and as a friend of Aragorn, and after the War as her own friend, for he lived at times in Ithilien, great friends with Faramir the Steward.
But he very carefully hide his gazes, and his longings, to save for another life. She could never be his, no matter how much he wished for it. But she could love him as a brother, as a friend, and that was enough to stay. It had to be enough.