Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR. I am a poor college student. No suing, please.

Chapter 1: Disagreements with the Enemy

"I can ride."

"You will not follow," he insisted, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

"It is my home."

A brief look of pain flashed across his features as he glared sharply at her, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "I have made my decision."

"Since when is it your decision to make, my lord?" she spat, arching her brows. "I have traveled alone between Imladris and Lothlorien for years, and now, all of a sudden, it is far too dangerous for me to even journey past the city gates without an escort?"

"This is not Lothlorien nor is it Imladris. There are many perils lurking in this wood, far more dangerous than you could ever comprehend. It is not safe for you here."

"Then why did you bring me here?"

"You married me!" he responded angrily. "Or was that not the agreement?"

"Whatever agreement our fathers had, I do not know. All I know is that I was brought here most unwillingly, and now I am not being allowed to return home, if even for a little while."

"You had to have agreed to it yourself. Elven marriages are not forced!"

"I married you out of love for my father."

"Then you should hold to the trust that your father knows best. He passed you into my care. You are my responsibility now."

"Is it truly me you worry for, my lord, or is it simply the fact that I am female, that distresses you so?"

He sneered. "Don't be ridiculous, Nevethiriel. I, as well as anyone here, know your capabilities…"

"It is a royal decree, then?" she interrupted, a scathing glare cutting across her usually pretty face. "The Prince of Thalmas Galen speaks and I, as the expected submissive bride, must obey."

Legolas pulled back as if he had been slapped, but it didn't take long for him to recover. "I have never used that as a judgment for anything that I do, and you know it."

"Do your people know that all must be silent as soon as your mouth opens? Hush! The Prince of Mirkwood speaks!"

His face reddened in humiliation, and he could feel the heat emanating from his skin underneath his princely attire. The entire hall was watching in silent suspension as the argument between their lord and his newlywed bride erupted. He knew many of them were probably scandalized at the way she addressed him, but Lord Elrond's youngest daughter had never been one for ceremony or protocol. She was completely out of her place as Princess of the Wood, and even more so as a female of the Court. And the slur on the name of his home that had been made popular by the humans did not go unnoticed.

"That is enough!" he hissed warningly. "You are out of line."

"Out of line?" she asked incredulously. "Forgive me, my lord, for it was never my intention to be 'out of line,' as you so put it. How can I ever make it up to you?" she finished, her sarcasm dripping off every word.

"Please return to your chambers, Nevethiriel." He leveled his piercing blue eyes on her.

"I most certainly will not," she snapped, her lips curling into a snarl.

Legolas remained silent for a moment, his anger evident in the fiery flash of his eyes and the rigid stance of his lithe Elven body. His jaw was tightly set and his brow was furrowed. He appeared absolutely livid. His superior height and strength seemed not to frighten the slender elleth before him, as she held her own ground against his intimidating figure. It was obvious to any watching that the Prince was not one to be toyed with or crossed.

"I will not ask you again," he growled lowly, gripping her arm none too gently and pulling her towards the door of the hall.

"Unhand me," she retorted harshly, sending daggers with her eyes. When he did not do as asked, she continued. "Remove your hand from my arm, my lord. Now."

Slowly, Legolas complied, keeping his anger in check as his position mandated. Barely containing the fury in his voice, he whispered so that only she could hear. "As my wife, you are the Princess of this realm. You have responsibilities now. Please see that they are attended to without embarrassing the both of us any further."

Coldly, she replied, "I do not recall entering into any such union with you. Our marriage, though true and binding through ceremony, has not yet been consummated. Your statement, just as our marriage, is invalid."

Legolas narrowed his eyes at this, the barb hitting its mark. "Whose fault do you suppose that is? It was not I being frigid and loathsome on our wedding night."

He did not react quickly enough to the blur of movement coming towards him, and the next thing he knew, there was a raw, stinging sensation across his cheek. He brought his hand up to his face to cover the tingling flesh, a look of utter shock on his handsome features. The silence in the hall was suddenly deafening, but it didn't last long.

"You are positively vile." With that, she turned on her heel and made her way to the hall entrance.

Panic gripped him momentarily, and he feared that his life was continuing to spiral violently out of control. His biting comment was immediately regretted, and he took a step as if to follow her, but decided against it, knowing she would need time to calm down. He had meant only to embarrass her as she had done to him, not to hurt her so deeply that her hate for him was made permanent. Suddenly, he felt cruel and callous, and he berated himself for stooping so low in his efforts.

Legolas ran his fingers through his hair and cursed under his breath. Whispers had begun to spread through the hall like wildfire, and the sound grated on his nerves. He glanced up to see his father standing near his usual seat, a stern, disapproving look on his face. However, the King appeared to be deep in thought, so Legolas said nothing as he took his leave. It wasn't completely unintentional when the door slammed loudly behind him. Thranduil stared after his son, his thoughts taking on the same direction they had for the past several months.

Nevethiriel had been a spitfire ever since they had met. Not knowing who the other was, both had been rather impertinent upon first meeting. When Legolas had expressed his interest, Nevethiriel had coolly shot him down, claiming his overly developed sense of self-confidence and rather chauvinistic way of thinking was incredibly irritating. Accustomed to the stricter mannerisms and highly formal society of his own wood, Legolas had felt slighted and rather bothered by her spite and limitless independence and nonconformity. It had come as an outrageous surprise to both of them when their fathers had suggested a somewhat advantageous union between the two of them, hinting at better sociopolitical relations. Feeling as if she owed it to her father, Nevethiriel had agreed to attempt a relationship with the arrogant Elf Prince. Certainly, Legolas only conceded because he wished to please his own parent. But Nevethiriel and Legolas continued to clash, their stubborn and strong-willed personalities keeping them from compromise. When the wedding finally came about, neither would admit to the whole set-up being a mistake. Instead, they had essentially doomed themselves to a loveless marriage for the rest of eternity. Nevethiriel had refused to allow Legolas to so much as touch her on their wedding night, and thus, the bond remained invalid but inescapable.

Having her in the Wood hadn't turned out quite so well, either. She was simply used to the independence and freedom allowed her in Rivendell. Tradition was less stringent, and little depended on decorum or custom, as it did in the Wood. Each person had a place, and as such, was expected to remain in his or her place unless otherwise asked. The more reserved society of Thalmas Galen favored a structured, male-dominated culture. Etiquette and protocol were specific and expected at all times and under all circumstances. Nevethiriel, of course, resented the oppression and expectations of decorous society, and yearned to return to her home. In turn, Legolas took exception to her disregard for the rules of his realm and the blasé manner in which she treated her duties. She had unashamedly insulted many an Elf with her sharp tongue. At times, it seemed like the two of them were constantly at each other's throats.

Thranduil and Elrond had hoped that the antagonism between the two would eventually fade and be replaced with kinder feelings. As of yet, nothing looked promising. It was uncharacteristic for Legolas to loose his temper so easily, especially with one of the fairer sex. He had been raised to show any woman the utmost respect, but something about Nevethiriel set him off like Thranduil had never seen. And the gall of her to call his son arrogant and conceited…Legolas was anything but. His people loved and respected him, and for good reason. Legolas had a good heart, and he took his place as Crowned Prince devotedly.

How much would it take to make them realize that the other was not their enemy?

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