He turned his head from the stairs of the palace to overlook the city of King's Landings. He had a long life, and he had seen a lot, but even he admitted that the land was a beautiful place.

His eyes narrowed a bit as he turned back over the palace, King Joffrey's lair. Even from Mirkwood, has he heard of the young tyrant's cruelty.

Pulling his hood to cover his face further, he glanced away half-heartedly. And there, his quick eyes caught sight to her. Who was she? Her bright auburn hair shinned over the soft pink color of her dress, falling smoothly behind her back, framing her delicate, small face. Her cheeks though, were a pale white color, her eyes avoiding all who passed by her nervously. Her melancholy took away his breath, as he stopped near the top of the stairs before the mansion to watch her. And for a moment, she noticed him. Their gazes met briefly, as he noticed her sad green eyes.

Noticing his silver-blonde hair all the way down his shoulder like a piece of silk, half covered in his hood, the girl nearly gasped. Moving her eyes away, she dropped her head to the ground and walked away soundlessly, leaving him to stare over her leaving back.

...

"My King! We found him, wondering around near the castle but not giving a reason!" Ser Boros slammed open the door to the throne room, calling upon the golden-haired Joffrey upon the iron throne. The boy seemed barely old enough to know his own personal matters. It was indeed pathetic, for a Kingdom so big to be managed under such an immature ruler.

The guards escorting him behind Ser Boros pressed him down to his knees forcefully, pulling off his hood.

Joffrey stood from his chair, almost seeming surprised, before smiling. "Well well well…look who we have here. I thought there in this world remains no other silver-haired Targaryen than Visery's sister across the Dothraki seas, that barely fifteen-year-old widow. You here, who must you be? Raegar Targaryen?" he jeered disrespectfully, letting out a sneer.

No, not Raegar Targaryen, he thought to himself, someone you should fear more, boy king.

He was a Prince, one who all respected. For that, there was no further insult then pushing him to kneel before an ignorant tyrant whom he loathed. Pursing his lips to hide his anger, he hid his dissatisfication. "My King…the name, is Legolas. I am no Targaryen. The Elvish folks to the East yet do possess similar features to those who once lived. I am one of them who fought alongside Aragorn during the war with Sauron."

Joffrey frowned, "You must be brave then, indeed to face me, Elf man. Aragorn, he is the King of Gondor, one of the realm's greatest enemies. Did you really expect a safe return home after being so honest?"

Raising his face shortly, Legolas looked away to avoid the child's sharp eyes. He hadn't lied for a long time, and he wasn't excellent at it. "My King, I thought, a wise ruler like you, should forgive the past of a man if he would be able to give you more in the future. I came here to serve you, and pledge you my loyalty. I once stupidly thought the man Aragorn was good. But his doings today prove that he is nothing but a liar. His kindness blinded our eyes. All he ever wished for was the people's services, so he would become greater after the Rings' war. I know I should be ashamed of what I've done for him, but I want to make it up by serving you, my King. Let me be yours to command, if you will give me the honor."

…after 3 days...

Legolas looked away uncomfortably as he noticed a drunk Lord, snogging a giggling girl. He was always too pure and clean for such a place. He never even kissed a girl in hundreds of years. He smiled awkwardly as people around congratulated him, even though, he didn't feel honored at all. Winning three soldiers before being knighted as a King's Guard, a test that Joffrey created especially for him, couldn't be any less simple. It almost seemed even a little insulting for the almighty prince. He remembered how he climbed up the Oliphant and killed it with his bow and arrows, back when they fought beside the Rohirrims. If it were not for his best friend Aragorn, he would never have agreed to come to such a place. It was dirtier than he expected, as he noticed the prostitute girl pull off her dress while sitting on the man's lap.

Avoiding that sight as quickly as possible, Legolas bit his lips in disgust. He walked fast to the other room where the ladies dined, dropping his eyes to the ground to not look back. Everything got a little awkward when he burst into a handmaid.

"I beg your pardon!" he was almost in panic as he pulled the wine jar she carried which dropped on the floor, spilled by him.

"No it was my fault ser," the girl smiled kindly, accepting the metalic jar from his slender hands. "And perhaps I never had the chance to congratulate you, Ser Greenleaf. The King's Guard is of great honor."

"Thank you, and please do call me Legolas," he pleaded playfully, seeing the pretty girl's dark eyes way more clearly then. "And may I please, you never told me your name?"

The girl smiled with a hint of timidity, letting out a slight giggle, "It's Shae." She had a light foreign accent, different, but sweet.

"Pleasure," Legolas grinned.

...

"And who is that over there?" Legolas pointed to a man near, or not a full-grown man, but a dwarf. He had the height of barely a seven-year-old child, and he had Joffrey's golden hair. However, counting all of Joffrey's sins, he was still one hundred times better looking than the dwarf with his twisted face and fat nose. Though, something of him intrigued Legolas.

"Him?" Shae paused for a moment, "Him yes…Lord Tyrion, currentlyt he acting Hand of the King, someone you should never forget of, commonly known as the Imp. He's the brother of the Queen, youngest son to Lord Tywin Lannister,. And that reminds me, our Lannister Lord's elder brother, Jaime Lannister, the King's Slayer was out in battle, captured the Starks. Our little Lord Hand is doing all he can to rescue him."

A smile rose from Legolas' face as he heard "the Starks". Eddard Stark, the former Hand of Robert Baratheon, he had always been a friend of his. Even he himself, fell into grieve when the news of the Stark's execution. For that reason too, Legolas has detested Joffrey, and beyond that, all the Lannisters nearly. He pulled himself out from his own meditation, "And who is that girl there? The one in blue? I find her very beautiful, ever since the first time we encountered each other."

Laughing over Legolas' straight eyes, seeming as if he hadn't seen a girl in centuries, Shae nodded, "Yes isn't she? She is my mistress."

"You're her handmaid?" Legolas eyes shinned so suddenly, "Who is she? What's her name?"

"The eldest daughter of Ned Stark, the former Hand to King Robert Baratheon, the traitor. She is Sansa Stark, the one girl who was appointed by hers and Joffrey's father to marry when they are grown. Poor girl, I feel heart-broken everyday I see her. She has no one to depend on, and her little sister dissappeared long ago, right after their father's execution."

Legolas' eyes blinked with compassion. "And how, does the King treat her?"

"That..." Shae stopped suddenly, "I'm afraid I dare not say more," she shook her head in pity, giving Legolas the clearest hint. No good.

...

Sansa sauntered by the aisle casually. Her sadness was not yet strong enough to make her deaf, for she heard the same footsteps walking behind her for a long while. Someone was following her.

She glanced back slightly to see the man's face, and immediately recognized him. However, she gave him the time to leave, assuming he would after another moment. At last, she could hold up her impatience for no longer. "I beg pardon ser," she turned with her eyes on the floor towards the new knight.

"My lady Sansa," Legolas stepped back nervously, "I'm sorry, for my offence. I just happened to see you at the feast…perhaps we have not been properly introduced. For a man like me, I need to get familiar with this King's Landing's court, and the people."

"But perhaps it is that you know I'm the King's betrothed?" the girl muttered.

Legolas paused for a second in embarrassment, "Ye-yes…of course my lady."

"You are the King's guard, and I am his almost wife," the girl raised her green eyes to look at him for the very first time, noticing Legolas' fair looks, "it's better that we go less closer…forgive me ser, for my rudeness…people talk. And I'm loyal to King Joffrey, my one true love." She turned away without looking Legolas another time, lowering her head diffidently. But even Legolas knew - the girl was an awful liar.

"What is the meaning of this?" Aragorn rose from his throne within the citadel.

"No one knows," Faramir shook his head. "The last of the Targaryen Dynasty's blood, the wife of the Dothraki Khal, Drogo who died just recently are near with barely twenty followers. Some call her Mother of Dragons. Many even say she carries three newborn dragons just now. No one knows what they want here. They are heading towards Minas Tirith currently, our city."

"It's probably a trick," the dwarf Gimli declared on the side, his arms crossed over his braided beard as he leaned over a column.

"I doubt so," Aragorn disagreed, "they've lost too much to trap anyone now. All they want after having wondered in the Red Waste for days should be food and shelter."

"How shall we react then, may I ask, sire?" Faramir asked, "The guards await for your orders. The Targaryen girl will arrive by the gates no later than noon."

Aragorn turned away for a moment to determine. "Open the gates," he said at last.

...

"I see you have come far, Khaleesi." Faramir walked forth first out of all through the gates. Not many followed him from behind, for there were only Gimli and the head ministers of court. He smiled kindly while watching the silver-haired girl and a few left-over soldiers from her dead husband's once existing tribe who remained loyal to her. Yet one man beside her, was a common folk, who was indeed no Dothraki. Jorah Mormont, he was said to be by all the gossips and rumors. And on the way side stood a bare-chested man, whom Faramir assumed to be one of the Khaleesi's blood riders. He carried a cage-like box, which none there knew what was inside.

"I wish to speak to your King!" Daenerys demanded sternly, her pale blue eyes as sharp as a knife. She was so beautiful, that no one would dare deny it. Her silver hair was messily combed up in a half braid which has already fallen apart from her long journey of hardship. Her skin was slightly tanned at that second, after having walked beneath the burning sun of the Red Waste for days.

"Khaleesi," Faramir chuckled a little as he noticed Gimli's intrigued expression, even though, he also found himself attracted to the lady's special grace and beauty. "The King asked me to come and welcome you. My words are sent from him to you."

"But it is not the same!" Daenerys called out over Faramir dourly, "Can you make decisions for him before asking him yes or no? My people and I have been through five long days, and they are tired and hungry. We plead your King for a temporary shelter, for us, and my dragons."

"That I cannot decide my lady," Faramir mumbled quietly, "but as for the dragons, I've seen lots of them; all that remained were killed in the War with Sauron, after the Targaryen dragons died out. And yours, I've heard rumors of them already."

"Bring them in front of our eyes then," a deep voice rose within the crowd. There who stepped forth was Aragorn, the King of Gondor, with a solemn, yet soft expression. "My lady, I am Aragorn, King of Gondor, Son of Arathorn. I wish for you to lay your dragons before our sights. If your words are true, then we shall provide your people with food and shelter."

The girl turned to look at the man beside her for a moment. "My people…they are starving and tired. My dragons shall be presented to you, in my orders, after I know it is that my people are well settled and fed, for a Khaleesi does not lie."

"Sire," Faramir placed a hand over Aragorn, pulling himself closely to speak near his ear, "the girl does not lie. Let them in, they are fatigued from their hardship."

Aragorn glanced Faramir an agreeing look, giving a nod. Stepping forth to face the young Khaleesi, he managed a welcoming smile. "Very well Khaleesi, as you wish. Welcome to Minas Tirith, we are glad to receive you, the Mother of Dragons, and your people." He found Faramir smiling at Daenerys strangely as she glanced him one last look, gesturing her people to follow her inside the city gates.