Hi everyone! This story was written by myself and Journen! We started this story in January and only just now getting around to posting the first chapter ^_^. We both are excited to share what we have been working on and we hope that you like it. This will not be an overtly long story, but we predict a few more chapters will be added as we have time to write.

Chapter 1

Tauriel stifled a yawn. She squeezed her eyes shut while she clenched her jaw, doing everything in her power to push the automatic intake away. Her eyes watered with the effort, but her determination suppressed the need to get her blood pumping - a sign of boredom during this important, yet dull and eventless task.

She, along with only three others, were on guard duty this day, charged with the overrated order to protect their king within the already safe confines of his throne room. They were dressed in their heaviest armor, polished so that every piece of guarding glinted with even the faintest speck of light. Gold-toned helmets rested upon each of their heads, shielding most of their defining features behind a grand yet intimidating display of metalsmithing. They carried nearly every kind of weapon they could know how to wield, strapped in various places about their person, but the door guards remained in formation - statue-like - while holding spears in front of them so they would always be at the ready should disaster occur.

But it was pointless really. There had never been an attack within the palace and any external threat was being heavily monitored along the borders of Mirkwood - too far away to even be considered a danger. And yet, Tauriel found herself here, stuck within the rotation among the ranks of warriors who every-so-often had to leave their routine posts and duties behind to take their turn in being the final fighting force who would risk it all to protect their sparse royal family.

Another yawn was on the rise and the she-elf wrinkled her nose to continue suppressing the tightening muscles, but this time the buildup was too great. Without her consent, Tauriel's jaw flexed open giving way to a silent gasp before she forcibly rushed her exhale. Her eyes darted immediately to the grand throne chair, worried that her Monarch may have witnessed such a pitiful display within his presence, but she relaxed slightly when Thranduil's attentions proved to be elsewhere.

The flaxen-haired king was at ease today, indulging in his prized vintage of ruby nectar. A chalice of garnet wine rested effortlessly in his graceful, ring-clad fingers, sipping on it at his own leisurely pace while he brushed up on a few reports that had been dropped off some moments before. He took pause... only to reach for a crystal decanter resting off to the side of his seat and he helped himself to another glass of cerise wine.

Tauriel watched his lackadaisical movements, dully wondering why the king even bothered to pour it into a glass. It was likely that Thranduil would consume the entire contents of the carafe and she figured it would save the palace staff the chore of cleaning the goblet... but ultimately, she cared little about the details in which her king partook in his sipping. At least this could give her some sort of silent entertainment; counting the glasses as they were consumed. She eyed the spout of liquid while it pooled in the cup's base, making a calculated guess as to the number of servings the decanter could still possibly hold.

**...Eight more.** She wagered, but watched on as the pool of wine grew deeper and deeper with each passing second. **Perhaps six then... if he consistently keeps his pours that long.** she smirked to herself.

Thranduil finally cut his portion off and placed the vessel back in its stored position beside the throne chair before lounging back in the magnificent seat that nearly swallowed him with its sheer size. The royal chair was carved from an ancient oak tree that fell victim to a lightning strike during a storm within the early years of Greenwood's uprising. But rather than leave the timber to rot away, Thranduil's father, Oropher, put it to use and ordered it to be transformed into the mighty cathedra that was still used. Decorative touches had been added to it over the years, but nothing compared to the massive elk antlerless that currently loomed over head. They were symbolic in a way as the massive rack resembled a crown that the mighty elk would wear, for he was the king of beasts in these wooded lands.

But now, the deciduous horns sat above the elves' throne, acting as an ornate reminder of where the true power sat. The ruling headdress of forest growth rested on Thranduil's head who reclined in the thrown below. He carefully crossed one leg over the other, sinking deeper into the crook between the arm ledge and back as the wine glass was tipped to his lips.

The quiet and calm air seemed to reflect in Thranduil's apparent mood, only interrupted by a slight sigh of content coming from the unwound king. However, the hall was cast back into its boring state when the reporting parchments were picked back up.

And so, Tauriel found that once again, she had to battle her own functions with the instinctual need to yawn. It was maddening being rooted in place with nothing stimulating to hold her fascination. It was a wonder how the other guards managed to keep their rigid and attentive position.

She shifted her centered weight to one foot, slowly so that her movements would go unnoticed. However, this new position felt awkward and she knew she looked just as out-of-place as she felt. She straightened up with a barely audible sigh of defeat, but that only fueled her need to take a longer drag that would boil over into the dramatic gasp…. And then, she could feel it building in her jaw.

She tried to stop it, but the motion had already been set and there was no way to retain the swell in Tauriel's lungs as she yawned for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

Beside her, a warrior leaned forward with minimalistic movements and the she-elf turned just enough to get a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye.

It was her captain.

He bore daggers into her, using the intense smolder of his dark orbs to project his message.

**Get yourself together, Tauriel! You know better!** she could almost hear his order being barked at her. She snapped herself back into position, standing stiffly while keeping her eyes riveted on the spear she held out in front of her.

"Sorry…" She mouthed the words silently and the subtle clinking of armor resonated softly from her captain as he too got back into his former position to wait out the rest of his watch.

**Only a few more hours.** she told herself with forced optimism and Tauriel pushed her shoulders back, propping her posture into a sturdy stance. She could make it through this.

At least she had tonight to look forward to.

Instantly, a spark of excitement burst through her core, but she did not dare move a muscle. She had been anticipating this evening, planned with a long overdue commitment that had been scheduled well over a month ago. One of her closest friends - her prince no less - had arranged to spar in the training grounds during a rare occasion in that they both had the night off. Legolas always seemed to be tied down with increasing responsibilities to keep the kingdom running. And while the prince was busy toiling away with royal duties, she expended much of her efforts to begin her climb in the ranks as a soldier. Ultimately, this deemed any of their overlapping free time as nearly non-existent. While Tauriel was never starved for days off, Legolas was another matter and it was not often the two got to see much of each other.

She supposed it was It was a shame in a way, but right now, she was too happy to really think about her friend's past absences, for tonight that was going to change.

And, as if spending time with Legolas wasn't enough, she looked forward to the fact that she could simply let loose, especially after the way in which her day was currently going. But even the mere thought of feeling the pleasant weight of her weapons in her hands sent a giddy shiver down her spine. Before too long, she would be slashing, ducking, twirling and dodging as she danced in a potentially deadly ballet in her fevered quest to become the victor in her sparring session.

As hectic as it sounded, there was a relaxing, therapeutic quality found within the chaotic rush of battle, even if it was mostly pretended. But whether or not she sparred with her lifelong friend, or if they simply took an easy walk through the forest, she loved nights like these and considered this free time a blessing. Legolas had a strong and vibrant soul that emanated compassion, traits that always put her at ease within his presence despite his high and dignified title of Prince. Over the years, most people came to think the heir to the throne was a tad intimidating, for his father's tendency to let his quick temper flair was common knowledge. But even if Legolas did harbor these inherited traits, rarely did anyone see them and he held everyone with a high regard of their own right; a modest quality not normally found within royalty.

Tauriel could see these changes as the effects of time worked their magic. She had grown up with the prince and as children there were few boundaries in which they needed to adhere to. Legolas was just like any normal elfling she encountered - other than the fact that his father was the King. But as they transformed into well-rounded adults, his title and social rank seemed to take on more weight. He had to start acting like a true prince. But as his mannerisms were molded to fit the princely protocol, she found that Legolas still treated her, and many others, as an equal. She was always warmly welcome in his eyes and there was a sense of true, unconditional belonging. That made her proud and she appreciated it.

No... she loved it.

She felt a small smile prickle at her lips from her thoughts, but she made no attempt to hide it as she allowed her mind to wallow in every fond memory she had with the prince - and there were a lot; running through the heavily wooded forests as young carefree youths, laughing, singing, finding their own selves while experiencing the normal growing pains of life as they balanced the tedious rounds of training to become renowned warriors who would serve their realm with pride.

And through it all, she felt the development of something little more connective between them - an emotional bond that was far stronger and more important than an ordinary friendship. It was love.

-ly.

It was lovely.

She corrected her thoughts quickly, now finding her heart hammering so hard, she was sure her captain could hear it. She chanced a glance at him to see if the veteran warrior was on to her, but his sights were diligently held in front of him, much to her relief.

Tauriel settled down, now shocked that her thoughts had run far to freely. But in the same light, she could not quite deny some of the truth they held.

Oh, but what was she thinking?! Legolas... Her *friend*... In *love*?! She shook her head to herself, finding a warm flush spread across her cheeks. Though she had visited this idea before, her heart's desire had never been so clear, nor as intense. Yet, she knew the reality in that this was nothing more than a fancy daydream.

Besides, what would Legolas think?! No doubt there was someone far more fitting for him!

Surely she was going mad by now. The she-elf glanced toward the king's decanter of wine to gauge the passage of time by the missing servings, disappointed that there was still far too much left for her liking.

With a silent huff, Tauriel tried to reason with herself to quell the fluttering in her core... She was just bored and found *some* enjoyment in her thoughts... there was no harm in conjuring up 'what-if' scenarios, for Legolas had no such feelings towards her. She was just being ridiculous.

A sudden rush of movement marched past Tauriel's doorway post position as a lone person made their way into the throne room. She nearly jumped as Legolas unexpectedly appeared and Tauriel held her breath after a surprise spark of longing ignited deep within. However, it burned away quickly, morphing into confused worry as she took full notice of her friend's appearance.

The prince's gait was determined and he never faltered in his strong approach towards the throne. He was adorned with armor and his clothing looked travel weary with dust. Evidently he had just come back from patrol. But rather than change out of his heavy guard and freshen up before he made an appearance before his king, he saw the need to report directly to his father over some matter that took priority over those privileges.

Thranduil seemed to notice the same thing for he too caught sight of his beloved son the moment he set foot through the threshold. The king smiled warmly at first, but it drained away after all cues of ill news rolled of the prince's presence. The king sat up immediately to await his son's approach, worry clouding his stony visage.

The prince closed the distance without hesitation and climbed the flight of stairs to stand before his high lord on the platform intended as a subject's landing. There, the father read his son easily and it was plain to see that Legolas did not come to report any ill news. Rather, his son was upset... with him.

The king's eyes squinted as Thranduil came to his own conclusions, and he could feel his own hard front of resistance start to build.

The prince forwent any formalities and launched right into the matter that brought him here.

"I have been told my presence is required at dinner tonight as the palace is entertaining important guests." He said icily, his sapphire eyes locked on the identical ones of his father.

Thranduil was taken aback, for no one spoke to him in that manner and he was not sure if he actually heard the disrespectful tone or he made it up in his head. He wanted to give his son the benefit of a doubt, finding that his anger was not exactly keen after coming out of such a calm repose. Surely the wine was helping. Thranduil opened his mouth to speak, but the prince cut him off tersely, a dangerous and bold move on his part.

"I knew nothing of this." Legolas' fair features were marred by a frown of disapproval after his father did not outright deny any of the news.

Thranduil's jaw slackened, allowing his lips to part slightly. He was astonished after realizing he had not imagined the prince's brashness.

"Well then..." the king started off with a cool flippancy to brush the prince's cares off his agenda. "...you know of it now." Thranduil jumped his thick brows to punctuate his statement and send his message across that the conversation was over. His intense stare bore into his son. Had the subject been any other person, they would have frozen in fear.

"Ada," Legolas reproached, letting out a sigh realizing that he was not making the situation better with his lack of manners. He continued on, but the anger in his tone had dropped a few degrees. "I was given leave tonight well over a month ago and I already have other arrangements." the prince tried to explain.

Thranduil shrugged his shoulders, indifferent to his son's wants, especially after the way in which he was previously addressed.

"Cancel them." The king stated simply, unfazed by the hurtful disappointment that darkened his sons' countenance. Thranduil turned in his throne chair to reach for the wine decanter and helped himself to a fresh glassful.

The prince did a remarkable job in keeping himself composed, but on the inside the younger elf bristled. Legolas took a calming breath to fight against his frustrations. He knew this was going to be a losing battle, for Thranduil had already made up his mind in the matter. It would be near impossible to change it. But maybe... just maybe he could reverse the decision if he used a different tactic. Despite the odds, he had to try if he had any hopes in salvaging his plans with Tauriel.

"Father... Please, I-"

"Legolas!" Thranduil interrupted with his thunderous voice now taking on strict authority. As far as he was concerned, this conversation ended the moment the prince started with his disrespectful tone. The king finished pouring his wine then practically shoved the container off to the side as the crystal vase was placed none-too-gently on the table. "This is not up for debate! You are a prince - your duties come first and I find myself exacerbated by the fact that I need to remind you of this again! You do not have the luxury to pick and choose what you do nor when! The palace has guests... that means *you* have guests and I am *ever-so-sorry* that *I* failed to halt all dealings with the kingdom in order bring this *inconvenient* and last minute date to *your* attention in a timely manner." the king nearly spat his mocked words while sending off a terse explanation to which he owed to no one. The king arched a single brow, daring his son to talk back.

The silence was uncomfortable and the king used this opportune moment to bring his glass to lips again.

Legolas crossed his arms and looked off to try and hide the scowl that turned his handsome features.

"...Who is here?" the prince asked quietly but his disapproval over the matter was still very clear.

The king lowered his glass with a forced smile. "... Lord Elrond... and his family."

The black look Legolas wore turned perplexed and he glanced to his father, unsure if this was some sort of joke. The prince had met the Lord of Imladris only a handful of times and he developed a strong respect for Elrond. Even if the other wood-elves were wary of him since the relationship between realms tainted after the turnout of the Last Great Alliance, Legolas maintained his own opinion. It was not Elrond's fault that Legolas' grandfather, King Oropher, was killed in the battle nor was he to blame for the countless warrior lives that were also lost.

Besides, Elrond's sons, Elladan and Elrohir were becoming well respected leaders themselves and they were always a pleasure to be around. The prince would even consider them friends outside of royal duties.

But this was not making any sense to Legolas. Surely the Peredhil family did not stop by to have a friendly visit due to the simple fact that Mirkwood was considerably out of anyone's way. And even if they did want to catch up, he could not fathom why they would chose to come here because of the growing infestation of giant spiders taking over the southern forests, not to mention the increasing threat of orcs. It would have to be a matter of great importance to drive anyone into traveling deep into the dark forests, but Legolas was unaware of any issues that would spur a formal gathering. Besides, Thranduil seemed to be far more preoccupied in dancing around the matter as if to taunt his son with an unusual punishment for his lacking manners rather than take any kind of proactive measures on a pressing issue. Therefore, in the prince's mind, this meeting could not be urgent - if it was even important at all.

"Why have they come here?' Legolas asked, his phrase still dripping with resentment towards the situation.

Thranduil considered his son for a moment and had half a mind to retain the requested information. However, if Legolas was upset over having to break his personal plans - whatever they may be - the king knew some sort of argument would ensure over the details of this visit... No, it would be better to get it out of the way now, rather than during dinner and risk causing a scene.

The king set his wine glass down on the arm of the throne and toyed with the thin lip of the chalice under the pad of a single digit, tracing the circular curve of the cup. He contemplated his every word, making Legolas wait to get his answer.

"Lord Elrond sent a request nearly a fortnight ago to have a... meeting of sorts... with you."

So many aspects of that statement did not sit well with the prince, particularly that the lengthy reply shed no more light on the matter. In fact, Legolas only had more questions.

"A fortnight ago..." Legolas looked off again, finding the pattern in the floor to be easier to look at than his own father. "And *that* is a sudden meeting?" he mumbled to himself, but the king heard it no less.

"What did you say?!" The murderous stare that snapped across Thranduil's features was intensified as the king practically jumped to his feet. He glared down upon his son who did not even flinch, as opposed to the door guards who watched on. It was clear they were uncomfortable from their slight readjusting stances as they squirmed in their armor.

**Oh, Legolas!** Tauriel's eyes were huge, horrified that she had to witness this in silence. She wanted to shout out to her prince, tell him not to make the king angry and that their plans for tonight could always be rescheduled. Yet, she was required to keep her tongue and had no choice but to watch as Legolas dug himself in a deeper hole.

"I asked you a *question*!" Thranduil barked, his voice echoed slightly in the great hall. The king had heard every word his son uttered, but Thranduil was challenging the prince, daring him to make another comment like that. Legolas was walking a thin line and Thranduil would gladly sever it if this continued. "*What* did you say?!"

"Nothing." the prince picked his head up and locked his sights with his fathers, giving up his foolish need to make witty remarks. However, his strong pride was undoubtedly flashing within his own steely eyes, giving him at least that small victory.

Thranduil clenched his jaw, his lips pursing. His crowned head shook stiffly, silently demonstrating he had used up all his patience. The prince was running solely on luck right now.

Legolas switched subjects quickly to keep his father's ire from rising further, sensing that it would not be long before Thranduil surpassed the point of self-control and his anger had full control over him.

"Why do they want to meet with me?" The prince asked with a surprising calmness despite the threat of Thranduil's anger looming over head. The king on the other hand carefully calculated a million actions within his seal-off mind. Ultimately, he took the high road and slowly sat in his royal chair for dramatic effect. He pinned his son's hard gaze with his own scrutinizing eyes, only to look away and hold his noble head up high. The king refused to look at his disobedient son any longer.

The silence was pure tension.

The king took notice of his unattended wine glass and picked it up by the fragile stem. He began to mindlessly roll the fine glassware between his forefinger and thumb, watching the hypnotic spin of the glass as he marveled over the ruby liquid. It was odd in a way to watch Thranduil self-medicate his anger by distracting himself with his prized vintage, but it was not uncommon either. The mere sight of the glass' rich contents was enough to soothe some of the burning anger.

The prince waited patiently, silently rolling his eyes at having to watch the dramatic play. He wished his father would just tell him the details so they could be done with this whole mess.

Thranduil took his precious time in his decision to elaborate on any of tonight's plans... but then again, things needed to go smoothly. At this rate, the evening would end up in disaster.

"The ties between Rivendell and Mirkwood had been strained for some time." Thranduil started off and paused to take a sip from his cup. He still did not look at Legolas. "...And perhaps it is time to move forward and work together to eliminate potential enemies and ensure peace within our neighboring realms by gaining relations."

The prince had an unsettling feeling that he could not quite explain, but he listened to his king speak.

"And so, there has been a discussion of a... merger between our rule that would unite our forces and people, thus, securing a lasting and strong future for Mirkwood and all elven kind."

The prince was now intrigued by this turn of events and let his defenses drop. A merger between realms was no small task and he could now see the importance of this meeting, even if it wasn't exactly last minute. He let out a sigh to dissolve his anger. Sure, he was still upset by having to break his plans with Tauriel, but she would take the news with beauty and grace as she always did.

He made a silent vow to himself that he would make it up to her... eventually. This merger was most likely going to consume a lot of his time within the upcoming months as he needed to be present for strategy planning and diplomatic meetings to ensure whatever plans were made were followed through seamlessly. He just was not looking forward to having to break the news to her face-to-face. Of course he could send someone to deliver the disheartening news, but she deserved the courtesy to hear him explain and not think that she was being cast off as a second priority.

Then again, that is exactly what was happening. She was being brushed aside due to matters that took precedence over her, but that was not a personal choice. If he could truly have his way, Tauriel would always come first to him.

He hoped she would understand.

"A merger in our forces?" the prince repeated to get himself back on track. "Are you sure this is... right?" Legolas asked, but Thranduil could not answer while he took another swig of wine. "...Pulling our defences together *would* strengthen the elven armies... should we find need to rely on all our resources collectively... Are all of the captains of our forces aware of what is going on? Perhaps they should join us. I can send word to every-"

"I am not talking about a merger of our armies, Legolas." Thranduil interjected tartly. "I am speaking of a merger in our houses... a *union*."

A single prick of dread dropped to Legolas' core as Thranduil lifted his sights to finally offer Legolas a smug smirk.

"I am talking about a marriage."

The blood in Legolas' veins turned to ice, draining all the color from his face in pure and utter shock.

"A… what?" Legolas stammered, trying to wrap his head around the unexpected meaning being implied.

"Lord Elrond is entrusting more and more authority to Elladan and Elrohir. They are becoming more prominent figures in Rivendell's lordship... although I fail to see it with their constant joking antics and wild behaviors... But I can honestly say they are making a better impression than *you* are currently making." the king glared at his son, but Legolas didn't even see it.

"We are not prepared for the future like Rivendell is." the king continued. "They are making progress with plans to pass on lordship, should the need arise. They have a solid plan with many appropriate people to take charge... Now…. you have demonstrated your abilities to step up and assume your responsibilities as expected of you, but the longevity in our line is growing stale."

Legolas could not believe what he was hearing.

"What does this have to do with the lords of Rivendell?!" he demanded, his heart thumping loudly in his ears causing his head to swim.

"You have met Elrond's sons on occasion, but you have never met his daughter."

To Be Continued….