It was the fifth time that Thranduil had asked Miriel to retreat to his study in a months time. The King had taken kindly to the she-elf since she had saved his son from a reasonably large spider nest. Their new-found friendship had just begun to establish into something further. "I am afraid I have not asked you of your parents." spoke Thranduil, barely looking up from his study. "Ah. My mother withered when I was barely a century old. I do not remember much of her. My father still grieves of my mother, he has succumbed to a broken heart. He cannot do much." replied Miriel sadly. "I did not suspect you were of that line." chuckled Thranduil coldly. Miriel quickly ignored the King's frigid remark. "Is there anything that you wish to be done my Lord?" paced Miriel impatiently. "No." answered Thranduil sternly. He stood, and gracefully paced towards the young elleth. "Please, stay." spoke the King in a more inviting manner. The air in the room suddenly became stiff with Thranduil's remark. "How do you feel of my son?" questioned the King as he slowly paced around Miriel, as if he was sizing her up. The elleth had become used to this movement, and looked past his endeavors. "Legolas is noble in his works, and a befitting prince. He is merely a comrade in disposing of Mirkwood's evil." answered the she-elf. The King nodded thoughtfully as his pace slowed. "And what do you think of your King?" questioned Thranduil, his cold eyes boring into the she-elf. Miriel was stunned by his question. She shifted uneasily, her mind racing to answer the King's question. A smirk plastered Thranduil's face. "Come, sit. A question such as this should be pondered over." gestured Thranduil. Miriel sat hesitantly in the seat next to the adjacent to the King's. Thranduil lifted a mostly filled wine flask, and poured its contents into two pristine wine glasses. He pushed one towards the she-elf, picking one up and drinking nearly all of it. Miriel coyly took the glass and drank from it. She was quite wary of Dorwinean wine, but this one was nectar-like in comparison. "You are quite different than most of the Silvan elves." stated Thranduil. "How so?" asked Miriel, her brows furrowing as she bit her lip. "You're more graceful than many of them, but nonetheless wreckless. It is breathtaking. You have excelled since I last showed you how to properly use a sword." spoke Thranduil as he took Miriel's hand in his. "I am surprised Legolas has not taken notice of you yet." Miriel turned away from the King's elated gaze, she could begin to feel the heat of embarrassment crawl up her face. "The reason I called upon you was to ask of your hand in marriage. Will you not take it?" implored Thranduil. Miriel's eyes met the King's. A look of sheer surprise illuminated her face. "My King, I am barely older than your son. What will the Kingdom think of it? I am a lowly Silvan elf, and you, born of royal blood. Do tell why you take heart to me?" asked the elleth as she stood. "My son and my people will accept the fact that you will become my wife. You mean more to me than many of my people, Miriel I love you." begged Thranduil. Miriel slowly paced towards the door, only to be herded to the wall by her King. Thranduil lifted her chin with his two fingers, their faces were merely inches apart. Thranduil leaned forward, their lips brushing. But at that moment, Miriel pushed him away. She made for the door, but was grabbed by the wrist. "I was meant to serve and fight for Mirkwood, not govern it. Thranduil, mellon, I cannot devote myself to you. Our love is merely lust. Please let me go!" begged the elleth, as tears formed in her eyes. It was her innocence that compelled Thranduil to relieve his grasp from the she-elf. Her blazing hair flew before the King as she made for the gates. "Guards! Seize her!" yelled Thranduil. But Miriel did not hesitate to bash their skulls with the hilt of her sword. She pursued into the shrouded forest, heading towards a spider nest. She fought valiantly, but she was clearly outnumbered. It was only moments before she was nearly slain, did Thranduil show, riding his white stag. The King slayed the vermin, as his lover lied - barely breathing. He made towards the struggling elleth, taking her in his arms. "You will be healed and sent to the dungeons." smiled Thranduil coldly. "It will be of no use Thranduil. I am in a horrid state, nothing can be done." chuckled Miriel. "Then I shall stay, melamin." replied Thranduil. (my love) "I have pondered long enough, mellon." gasped Miriel. "And what is your answer?" asked the King. "You are a foolish King, Thranduil." laughed Miriel as she winced in pain. Tears began to roll down her pale cheeks. "Which is exactly why I chose to love you Miriel." whispered Thranduil, as if he was telling a secret. A look of fear passed over Miriel's face, as she tried to pull away from her King, but she was too weak. Her hands grabbed his tunic in anger. Thranduil pulled her closer, their faces touching. "You are ill." gasped Miriel. "And you shall heal me, melamin." smiled Thranduil (my love) The King leaned forward and began to kiss Miriel violently. Miriel's hands became loose from Thranduil's tunic, and her mouth limp. Thranduil pulled away from the she-elf's deceased body. "Goodbye, My Jewel." smiled Thranduil.