Hello everyone! Yes, I'm back again, whether you like it or not! He! He! After 'Torment Not The Child' had finished, I received such wonderful reviews and supports from you guys! God, I can't thank you all enough! Still, THANK YOU, THANK YOU and THANK YOU!!

By the way, at the end of it all, a certain reader had placed his/her opinion about your reviews. I've put it at the end of the page if any one of you is interested about it.

Now on to the latest story! This one has a touch of Malay fables in it. One of my friends suggested it to me and I am more than happy to comply. If you find it too sappy or too corny, blame it on my rebellious keyboard (I called the blasted thing Key-Key). It wouldn't do as I told it to do! Grrr!! Anyway, feel free to think this one as an AU (as if you don't know. ^_^)

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It was winter, and probably the coldest season in ages, as far as he remembered.

But the golden-haired prince of Greenwood the Great seemed oblivious to the frigid weather as he nudged his mount to move faster. He wanted to finish his mission and return to his wife as quickly as possible. Marwana's current condition was delicate even at her early stage of pregnancy and he was not fond to leave her side longer than he had to.

The great white stallion trotted gracefully over the snow at his master's skillful hands. The prince looked up and about, searching for the tree that he was told would be there at the edge of his father's realm, near the border of Dol Guldur's territory.

He nearly lost hope after searching diligently for a full day. Little by little, his heart was drenched with despair. If I do not get the fruit, Marwana will be so unhappy, he thought despondently.

Then his blue eyes lit up when he caught sight of the sparse thicket near the base of a snow-covered hill. The prince immediately recognized the small tree that stood proud among the other copses. The tree was now bare, except for the half dozen fruits that dangled from its thin twigs.

He dismounted and rushed forward, eagerly touching one of the fruits that had already turned red and ripe. "Pomegranate," he said breathlessly, relieved and joyful now that his search was over. Without further ado, he plucked the fruit and placed it into the satchel slung across his shoulder.

Suddenly the earth beneath him shook with a tremor.

The prince looked up in alarm as he hastily reached for his mount. The breeze started to pick up speed around him, forcefully whipping his long hair and winter cloak about. Thinking that a heavy storm was about to descend, he quickly grabbed hold of the stallion's neck and prepared to climb up.

That was when an apparition slowly appeared at the base of the pomegranate tree.

He stared, wide-eyed, too shocked to move as the apparition turned into the form a very beautiful lady. Her hair was as red as the ripe pomegranate and she was wearing all scarlet attire, accentuating her pale alabaster skin. Eyes as black as coal stared back at the prince, filled with anger and malice.

"How dare you!" she exclaimed. "How dare you take what's mine without my consent!"

The prince's knees quaked slightly with fear and guilt. He knew he had made a terrible mistake. He had been told to seek permission before plucking the fruit, but he had forgotten when he had seen no one about. "Forgive me, lady. I did not know to whom I was supposed to seek consent."

"To me! I am Lady Zuïlean, goddess of winter pomegranate! You should have called up for me before taking the fruit! Now, you shall not leave!"

All at once, a thick wall of ice suddenly erected all around them, cutting the prince from the outside world and his way home. He involuntarily trembled as the tales of missing Greenwood elves in winter came to his mind. So this is the reason for their disappearance. They might have taken the fruit without approval, just like I did.

Running his hand along his stallion's neck to sooth the agitated animal, the prince took a deep breath and braved himself to speak. "My lady, I am Thranduil, son of King Oropher of the Greenwood realm. I mean no disrespect. I was wrong for taking the fruit without your permission, but my head is clouded with worry and concern for my lady wife who waits for me at home. The fruit is for her, you see. She's two months pregnant with our child and she has a great craving for a winter pomegranate. Please, my lady. I beg you to release me and let her have this fruit."

Zuïlean stared at him through narrowed eyes, speculating. "Your wife is with child, you say? Need I tell you that these fruits are like my own children?!"

Thranduil blanched as her voice rose with each word. Dear me! She is not going to let me go, is she? But I need to get to Marwana!

Thranduil was a proud prince. He rarely begged in the 3,000 years of his life. But for the second time that day, he was about to do just that.

Slowly getting down on one knee, he lowered his head in humble submission. "I beg your forgiveness from the deepest of my heart, my lady. I have erred and deserve your anger. But please let me go back to my wife. I fear for her if I fail to return."

There was a long tense silence afterwards as Thranduil waited anxiously for Zuïlean's response. When she did speak, her voice was still cold and terse. "Very well. You shall go…but on one condition!"

Feeling a sliver of trepidation running up his spine, Thranduil asked, "What is the condition?"

"When the child is born, I want you to bring it to me!"

Thranduil's eyes widened in dismay. "But…but…"

"Either that or stay here forever! Which will it be?"

Give her my child? Thranduil was so shock he couldn't speak for a full minute. He gazed up at her stupidly, uncertain of what to do next. "You want m…my child?"

"Yes, Thranduil, in exchange for my child, which you've taken." With a flick of her wrist, the icy wall crumbled around them. "Now, go. And bring me your child, Thranduil son of Oropher. Do I have your word?"

He shook his head in dismay. I cannot agree to this! I can't! "My lady, please. What you ask is impossible!"

                She seemed to grow taller in that instant. "You dare to defy me after I have decided to let you go free?!"

                Thranduil gulped and hastily got to his feet. "No! I…I mean…" he stammered, and then sighed in defeat. There must be some way to get out of this mess, he thought, shaking his head. But I have to get home first.

                "I repeat, Thranduil, do I have your word?" Zuïlean asked once more.

The Greenwood prince looked up. "Yes, my lady. You have my word," he reluctantly said.

Zuïlean smiled. "Good. Make sure you keep it! If you don't, I will come for the child myself!" With that, she slowly vanished into thin air along with tree, leaving the elven prince alone with his stallion.

Thranduil's shoulders slumped. "Valar, what have I done?"

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Many, many years later…

"Ooo, easy Red Star. Easy," Prince Legolas of Mirkwood crooned to his mount as the dark brown stallion suddenly turned skittish on the snow-capped high terrain.

Prince Keldarion, who rode up ahead, turned around in his seat and grinned at his younger brother. "He is still jumpy after that skirmish, isn't he?"

Legolas smiled back. "He is still too young and immature. But give him another year. He will be as good as his sire, Firefox."

Firefox was the elven horse that belonged to their father, the king of Mirkwood. He was a magnificent beast, strong and graceful. His offspring, Red Star, was a feisty young one though, very wild spirited and difficult to control. Legolas was the only rider he'd let onto his back due the manyan prince's healing touch. No one else dared to get near the animal, especially when he was in a dour mood. And the bloody battle that they had had with their foe from Dol Guldur several hours ago obviously still spooked the young stallion.

Keldarion faced forward once more after he was assured that Legolas had Red Star under complete control. Pulling his cloak tighter against his body, the prince then looked up at the gloomy sky, trying to find the sun that was hiding behind the gray wall of cloud. What a winter, he thought. So many snow this year, and so many intruders to get rid of.

The two princes of Mirkwood were returning home after finishing a mission at the border. There had been some reports of the enemy from Dol Guldur entering the woodland realm since several weeks ago, so the king had sent a war party to chase them away. Keldarion had volunteered to lead the mission and Legolas had eagerly joined his brother, not wanting to be left out of the excitement.

The mission was a success, but the battle was viciously fought and had caused several casualties in Keldarion's company. Seeing the devastated look on the crown prince's face, Sir Jaden who was the head of the woodland guards, had suggested that the princes return to the palace without them, knowing that the dead bodies would only slow their pace. "Let us care for them, your highnesses. Go on home. You are weary at heart."

Keldarion had protested, saying that he would not abandon the mission until it was fully completed, until all of them had returned safely to Mirkwood. But Legolas had quickly intervened, fully understanding what his elder brother was feeling. As their leader, Keldarion was feeling responsible for the warriors' death.

"Come, my brother," Legolas had said. "You have done everything you can to make this mission successful. You have done your job, now let them do theirs."

Legolas always had the means to make everyone bow to his words. At last, Keldarion had relented and reluctantly agreed. The two brothers then rode on back to the palace, letting Jaden take care of the rest of the troop.

"Kel, look!" came Legolas' cries that broke through Keldarion's reverie. The elder prince looked around and found the object that had caught his brother's interest.

"Pomegranate!" Legolas voiced out excitedly, nudging Red Star to head for the tree that stood at the base of the hill. Keldarion frowned as he followed after his brother, watching as Legolas marveled at the ripe fruits hanging at the thin bare branches. That's strange, Keldarion thought. The tree wasn't there when we came up here.

Smiling widely like a child about to receive a candy, Legolas reached up to pluck one of the fruits…

TBC…

Like I've mentioned earlier, a reader had placed an opinion about your generous reviews to me for 'Torment Not The Child'. I think the review was not fully directed at me, so let's share it, shall we? Here it is;

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The following review has been submitted to : Torment Not The Child, Chapter 4

From: Concerned ()

I'm disturbed by a pattern I see here – people feeling that any negative comment is a 'flame'. That's not accurate; a flame is a *personal attack* which is quite different from a legitimate criticsm of a story. Further, I didn't see any review which told the author to stop writing, merely reviews pointing out the problems in the story. These reviews are at least as valuable to an author as those praising good points. Have authors fallen to the level of wanting only gushing praises? How is an author going to improve if no one mentions the weak points?

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Okay. Now that you all have read it, what do you think? Me? Well, I would not say that 'Concerned' is completely right. But I would not say that he/she is completely wrong either. I'd rather sit here quietly and contemplate. (Fallen to the level of wanting only gushing praises? LOL!!)

P/s : My instinct may be wrong (Heck! I'm always wrong!), but I have a strong feeling that Concerned, The Reviewer and The Teacher is one same person. ^_^