TA 2940

Tauriel and Legolas had spent the afternoon clearing nest after nest of spiders and were slowly making their way back within the gates, in no particular hurry.

She supposed now would be as good a time as any to ask him something that had bothered her for years now. "My lord Legolas, may I ask you a question?" The she-elf stared at Legolas, an apprehensive look spreading through her face.

He didn't understand why she would be so nervous. "Of course, Tauriel. You may ask me anything." He was surprised that she was not more comfortable around him; he was under the impression they had become, at the very least, close friends…possibly more.

"It is very personal," she added but the prince nodded for her to go on. "I've noticed your father is not overly-fond of Silvan elves and I wondering if perhaps you could supply me with a reason why." She knew she was entering dangerous territory.

Legolas was taken aback by Tauriel's comment and more than a little confused. "My father doesn't dislike Silvan elves – quite the opposite." He couldn't understand why it was Tauriel would assume such a thing; after all, Legolas had never seen his father treat a Silvan elf any differently than any other elf. (Of course, he had to admit that his father was prone to an ill-tempered disposition but all elves suffered from that, regardless of whether they were Sindar or Silvan.) "I don't suppose you remember much of my mother." Legolas' own memories of her were fuzzy at best.

"Not really, but I fail to see why that is relevant."

"Tauriel," Legolas began slowly, "My mother was Silvan."

SA 3425

Thranduil was, as usual, completely bored listening to his father's politics: he had never felt any desire to follow politics nor had much aptitude in the area. He only managed to catch every other sentence, if that, and gleaned from those sentences that the Woodland Realm was having difficulty with the Silvan elves, yet again. It seemed there was never a time the Silvan elves were not riled up over some matter or another.

"Carandan, you must try harder to keep your people in check," Oropher chastised his guest. "Under normal circumstances I would quell the matter myself but war is upon us – all the more reason for them to end this madness."

"My lord Oropher, I do what I can – as always – but my people are restless: they do not feel as if you hold their best interests at heart." Carandan, the king's only Silvan advisor, was not pleased that Oropher chose to criticize him over this particular matter.

"Of course I hold their best interests at heart! I'm their king!"

"I never meant to imply otherwise, my lord. I simply meant that perhaps some sort of …gesture may appease them."

"I am putting together and training an army large enough to aide our brothers and sisters to the south so I haven't the time or patience to conceive any such gesture."

Thranduil stopped paying attention again – knowing exactly where the conversation was going anyway – and glanced at Carandan's family who had also been invited to the dinner, though it was clear they were only invited out of politeness. But then again, Thranduil was only been invited because he was prince and not because his father actually expected him to contribute to the conversation so he couldn't exactly blame Carandan's family for sitting there silently just as Thranduil did. Now he was trying to remember their names from when Carandan first introduced them. The son's name was Caranhil, or something along those lines. Thranduil thought he may have sparred with the other young elf at some point. (If he remembered correctly, Caranhil was an easy opponent to best.)

Carandan's wife was somewhat plain by elf standards but she still had an almost commanding presence in the room when she injected herself into the conversation. "And believe me when I say that all the Silvan elves of Greenwood appreciate the difficulty that our realm is facing at the moment. I'm certain they will not make too much trouble until after this terrible war is over." If we actually win, she added dubiously in her head. "Many of them are too busy trying to rid our kingdom of spiders and orcs to do much else."

They all began talking about the war again and Thranduil turned his attention to the only person in the room, apart from himself, that stayed quiet through the whole dinner: Carandan's daughter. She was also the only one whose name he couldn't place. Maybe it was because she was the plainest of all Carandan's family – hair pulled back into an almost-severe-looking bun, plain green dress and brown eyes concentrated on her food all added up to one thing: boring. Boring was the one thing above all else that Thranduil could not stand so he returned his attention to Carandan, Caranhil and Fandis.

Once the dinner was over, the guests began standing to leave before Oropher added the only non-political gesture of friendliness he'd offered through the entire dinner. "I heard your son is to be married soon, Carandan. Congratulations," he said to the entire family.

"Thank you," Carandan replied earnestly. Caranhil only nodded, but both appeared appreciative of the pleasantries from Oropher.

After the guests left, Thranduil was eager to return to his private quarters to escape from princely duties – a habit he formed long ago – when his father called him to private chambers which elicited an irritated sigh from Thranduil. It was not that Thranduil disliked his father – he cared for him a great deal – but the furthest thing on his mind was to become king. Unfortunately, at this moment, that was exactly what as on Oropher's mind.

"Thranduil, the news I've heard of this war in the south troubles me more than I can express. We've been pushed further and further north by this evil and we must be rid of it – that fact I will not argue. But I fear going to war not only because I fear the losses our people will suffer but also because I fear the end of our line. Should I not return or should both of us fail to return when we eventually join the others, you will need an heir."

"You wish me to marry for the sake of procreation," Thranduil drawled, putting on a mast of apathy. In reality, he was far from apathetic on the matter. Thranduil knew that he was by no means ready for marriage.

"Yes," Oropher replied. "There will be many suitable Sindar maidens who will be interested." That was the last thing Thranduil wanted to hear. He found other people to be irritating most of the time which was another reason he was always so quiet. Now he would not only be forced to endure the company of another elf, but would also be forced to make conversation with them – tedious. "You're not pleased," Oropher ascertained.

"Am I ever? When do you intend to begin this barrage?"

"It will take a few months to send out all the necessary information."

"I suppose I better enjoy that time while I can, then," Thranduil replied before slipping away to his bed chambers.

There he fumed over the indignity his father intended him to endure as elf after elf tried to woo him and failed miserably. He decided it was time to blow off some steam so he put light armor on – still as beautiful as anything Thranduil wore – and took his sword before slipping out his window towards the single weak spot in the gates that secured his kingdom from the spiders and orcs. Slipping through the weak spot, he headed deeper into the no-longer Greenwood to hunt, hoping it would calm him down enough to speak with his father the next day without an outburst.

The woods became darker and spider webs began to appear: perfect. He tugged lightly at one of the web strands and allowed the vibrations to travel towards the spiders that had made the webs. Soon enough, he heard their ghastly hissing and the entire nest, stupid as they were, came towards him in the hopes they could make a meal out of Thranduil. Not going to happen, he thought to himself, as spider after spider met their end at his blade. The spiders were no match for his skill but an unexpected complication arrived in the form of a horde of orcs.

One of them almost hit him with an arrow but Thranduil quickly deflected it with his sword – the speed of his reactions unmatched. But no matter how good he was, it was unlikely that he would be able to take on a nest of spiders and a pack of orcs. What Thranduil did not expect was for any sort of rescue to come. How did anyone know he was here? Arrows flew from the trees in every direction, each finding its mark in the skulls of the orcs, giving Thranduil the chance to concentrate on the spiders.

Eventually, though, the arrows of the archer in the trees – Thranduil was surprised to only see a single archer – ran dry, forcing them to drop down from their coverage. To Thranduil's complete and utter shock, the archer was the silent daughter of Carandan and needless to say, she looked completely different than she had an hour ago: plain dress replaced by pants and a tunic; wild, black hair flying freely instead of constrained in a bun; and a look of absolute delight unparalleled by any smile Thranduil had ever seen.

Though it took them a while, eventually all the orcs and spiders were extinguished. It wasn't until then that she realized whose presence she was in. "My lord Thranduil," she said quickly before bowing her head with respect.

"There's no need for that," he muttered. "What are you doing here?"

Her face, already flushed from physical exertion, turned an even deeper shade of pink. "You can't tell anyone that you saw me out here." She tried not to make it sound like a demand – he was still the prince, after all – but she desperately required his silence.

"And why is that?"

"I'm not supposed to be out here," she admitted. "My father thinks it's too dangerous for me, given the present state of the Greenwood." The archer nodded towards the lifeless bodies of orcs and spiders littered around them to emphasize why her father was concerned. (Carandan was also a very conservative elf – one of the largest reasons why he was chosen as Oropher's counsel.)

Thranduil raised an interested eyebrow; maybe Carandan's daughter wasn't as boring as he thought. "It looks to me as if you can handle yourself well enough."

"He doesn't know that I can…" She gestured to the knives she'd used as well as her bow to indicate her father knew nothing of her training. "There are certain areas where my father lacks enlightenment and this is one of them. He believes it is unnecessary for she-elves to involve themselves in battles and weapons training." (There were still a few old-fashioned elves in the Woodland Realm.)

Thranduil felt something akin to pity for her so he decided he wouldn't divulge her presence outside the gates to anyone. Besides, technically speaking, he wasn't supposed to be outside the gates alone, either – both of them caged within protected borders. He could only imagine what his father would say if he saw Thranduil at that moment. "Had you not been outside the gates today and had you not any skill in battle I undoubtedly would not have lived to see tomorrow," the prince admitted. "Tell me, though: why were you outside the gates in the first place?"

"When I feel frustrated, I come here. What about you?"

He paused for a while, almost making her believe he wouldn't answer, before saying, "I have similar motives, I suppose."

A mystified expression crossed her face. "It's difficult to imagine you becoming frustrated, my lord." After all, was this not the same elf who had stared lazily at her family through the entire dinner earlier that evening? Thranduil had a reputation throughout the Woodland Realm – one of apathy.

"Things are rarely as they appear," was his curt reply.

"I meant nothing by it," she said quickly, hoping she wouldn't anger him into revealing her secret to her father, though she truly did mean nothing by it.

Thranduil was about to say something accusatory before he saw how genuine she was. However, he wasn't about to admit he was wrong so he opted to change the subject instead. "You have some skill with a bow. How did you learn?"

"My friend Ninith is an archer. She gave me a few lessons before leaving me to my own devices." Thranduil was surprised at her apparent natural talent as she began slowly gathering her arrows for future use. "Though it has been a while since then."

"I owe you my gratitude and I intend to repay my debt," he announced abruptly. The last thing he wanted was to be indebted to Carandan's daughter so he would repay that debt as quickly as possible and be done with it.

"That is completely unnecessary," she insisted, not wanting the prince to believe he owed her anything. (And she still wasn't quite sure how she felt about spending even another moment with Thranduil. She was still afraid his demeanor would switch from his current casual one to a more insufferable one like his demeanor at dinner.)

"Somehow I doubt you will refuse my offer. Tell me, who trained you with those knives?"

"My brother; he also trained me with a sword."

"Well, I'm afraid he has given you very poor training because you are sloppy with them. If these orcs had been only slightly more skilled in battle, you may not have lived through this encounter." She wanted to feel offended and object to his criticism of her brother but she knew Caranhil had no particular skill with any form of blade. In fact, she probably would have been better off simply watching others as they sparred rather than heed his advice. "I intend to rectify that, if I can, Lady…?" It occurred to him that he still couldn't remember her name.

"Rinien. My name is Rinien."

"You have my gratitude, Lady Rinien." The façade was slowly appearing again as Thranduil prepared himself to return home.

"And you have mine, Lord Thranduil, for your silence." The face of the wild she-elf softened, saddening at the prospect of returning home.

Thranduil had only one more question before they parted ways and it was one that had eaten at him from the moment he learned Rinien was Carandan's daughter. "If I may ask one more question, Lady Rinien?"

"Of course."

"Why are you so eager to fight orcs and spiders in the woods? There must be other ways to vent your frustration."

"Have you found a more effective way to vent your frustration, Lord Thranduil?" she asked, only the barest hint of sass in her voice. When she received no response, she pulled an 'I Thought So' face. "Your silence speaks for itself, my lord. However, there is one other reason why I choose to come here."

"And what reason is that?"

"It is here in the woods, when I'm killing orcs and spiders, that I feel alive."

It took a few months before they encountered one another again, but Thranduil was honest when he said he intended to pay off his debt.

A/N: Please let me know what you think of Rinien and the beginning of the plot.