Author's Note: GUYS I'M NOT DEAD. Okay, so it's been... Months, but I finally, FINALLY, did something! I hope you like it, I guess it's kinda an introduction chapter, but it ended up longer than expected, soooo... Not really.

PLEASE REVIEW. I'm not really sure where this is going so I'm totally open to comments.

P.S If you haven't already read my first piece, (Starlight) then please do so. THIS WILL MAKE NO SENSE, LIKE A JAPANESE MONKEY TALKING TO AN APRICOT, NO SENSE.

REVIEW. :)

The King of the Greenwood never forgot that one fateful night. Something, it seemed had changed in both Thranduil and Èarasmë and from then on and made no contact to each other. Both could feel themselves slipping away... Until it dawned a new day...

Some months had passed since the King's coronation. Èarasmë had not forgotten, and she had not forgiven. Saein, on the other hand, had kept in contact with Thranduil, yet something was different about the King, and Saein knew this. He knew Thranduil regretted his words, he knew Thranduil blamed himself and above all, he knew Thranduil wanted Èarasmë back. If there was anything Saein could do, he didn't know it.

Thranduil sighed into the early morning air. It was still dark and the morning sun had not yet dawned, but the King had no trouble seeing in the cold light the covered the Greenwood. The Greenwood. He said it in his mind and images of an almost unfamiliar face flashed through his thoughts. Oh, how he missed his father, he missed the way he laughed at something Thranduil didn't find funny, he missed the way his hair ruffled under his crown, he missed the way he smiled when Thranduil visited from Lindon- even if Thranduil couldn't smile back... He missed Oropher, King of the Greenwood.

The Prince- no, King. The King couldn't help feeling as if he had failed his father. It wasn't that he hadn't stepped up to the plate in being ruler of the realm, no, so far, so good. It was just that... Oropher would never hurt his friends like Thranduil had, he would never hurt... Alatáriën.

Thranduil's mother had been... Wonderful. If wonderful can describe her at all, she was gracious and radiant... Like the stars she loved. And much like someone Thranduil knew, or, used to know.

He felt a pang of guilt at the thought of Èarasmë. She was like no other, and one of Thranduil's greatest friends. Yet, Thranduil knew, if something didn't change soon, he'd be lucky to ever see her again.

"Thranduil".

Saein's voice was firm, though he wore a look of sympathy for his friend.

"What are you doing out here?" He continued.

Thranduil turned to face Saein, "I was... Walking." He wasn't satisfied with his answer and he could tell it meant nothing to Saein, but it was better than nothing.

Saein raised an eyebrow, "Is that so..?"

Thranduil tried to act as if his friend's response was completely ludicrous, apparently, he wasn't much of an actor.

"Not in your... Courtyard?"

It took only a moment for Saein to realize his mistake.

Thranduil's heart fell to his stomach. The courtyard was a place Thranduil hadn't visited in months, as much as the perfectly trimmed hedges and picturesque flower beds tempted him he just couldn't do it. He couldn't remind himself of the times he'd spent there with Èarasmë.

"Thranduil, I'm- I'm sorry, I didn't mean-", Saein tried.

Thranduil's gaze fell to the ground.

"Thranduil, she... She loves you." Saein wasn't sure why he said it, but considering his previous comments, he couldn't make things much worse. Or so he thought.

The King straightened up, taking a deep breath.

"She loved me, Saein?" Thranduil asked, looking deep into the brown eyes of the blacksmith.

"Èarasmë couldn't have loved me", Thranduil's voice cracked on the second word. "At least, not now."

The last thing Thranduil saw of Saein before he fled the scene was the sad little boy inside. The same little boy who couldn't save his mother, the boy who's sister vowed never to love again, the boy who only wanted his friend to be happy.

The door banged savagely against the wall as Thranduil stormed into his chambers like a madman. He wasn't angry at Saein, or, at least he tried to tell himself that. It was just that he'd stirred up old memories.

Thranduil sat on his bed and hung his head in his hands, he was at a loss. Why couldn't he do anything right? First it was his father, then Niphredil and Èarasmë. And now Saein.

It seemed like hours before Thranduil could will himself to move. He stood up, stretching his legs and surveying the room. Then something caught his eye. He walked over to the hand-made desk in the corner of his room, where a small, white flower lay. For a moment, he couldn't possibly think where it might have come from.

Then it hit him.

It was the flower that the young elf-girl had given him on the morning of his coronation. Though somewhat withered, it had retained some of its original beauty.

Thranduil sighed deeply, there was one place that would clear his head better than any other.

Èarasmë admired the beautiful flowers growing next to the path with a small sigh. Presently, she was in Lindon, not the Greenwood. She had come with Saein to attend her mother's memorial service, and had decided to stay for a while longer than anticipated.

The sea air was so refreshing, and the atmosphere so very different from that of the Wood. Though the scene in Lindon was delightful, Èarasmë was returning once more to the forest in the East. But considering she was only leaving that afternoon, she thought she'd might as well spend her last few hours in town.

Èarasmë was about to enter the main court of the marketplace when she heard a small cry from behind.

Upon turning, Èarasmë saw that a small Elfling had slipped on the smooth paving and fallen. She moved to help the young girl.

"Are you alright?" Èarasmë helped the girl to her feet.

"Mavís!" The voice was familiar to Èarasmë, but she couldn't place a name.

The owner of the second voice rushed to where Èarasmë was and took the hand of the child.

"I'm so sorry miss, she's... She's young and-"

"No no, it's fine. No trouble at all." Now Èarasmë knew she'd seen her before, but still couldn't think where.

"Have I... met you before?" Èarasmë asked.

The girl, who appeared to be Èarasmë's own age, had fair hair and pale skin. Then it clicked.

Niphredil.

Èarasmë pondered her brief meeting with the girl from Lindon as the surface under the carriage changed from stone to dirt, reminding Èarasmë that she was once again under the leaves of the Greenwood.

Some time later, after Èarasmë'd finished unpacking her belongings, she entered into a painfully familiar place.

Thranduil had managed to get to his destination without being seen (or hardly being seen, we can doubt that he went completely unnoticed). Of course, if the people knew where he was going they'd ask questions, questions Thranduil didn't want to answer.

Actually, to say that Thranduil had got to his destination wouldn't be completely correct, but he had made it most of the way. All that stood between the two was the door, it wasn't locked or even difficult to open, but still, Thranduil stood frozen, his hand on the doorknob.

Come to think of it, maybe this wasn't good idea after all. Maybe I should just go back, surely I could find something better to do with myself. The thoughts raced through his mind. Yet for some reason, Thranduil knew he couldn't go back, not after he'd come this far...

With a deep breath, he opened the door to a familiar sight. The flowers, hedges and ornaments of the garden screamed home to him as Thranduil walked through the courtyard. Admiring the new changes and letting his fingertips brush the delicate petals of the roses. Eventually, he came to a spot more familiar than any other. The tree, his tree.

His breath caught in his throat as he realized he wasn't alone. For under his tree, was a maiden. But not just any maiden...

Èarasmë.

GASP.

So now that you've finished reading this chapter, listen to Carrie Underwood's 'There's a Place for Us'. Link: watch?v=aB9ueVfyZ1M

HEAR THE SIGNIFICANCE. ALSO REVIEW.