The snow swirled delicately past his curved window. It was incredibly distracting. He was trying to study his ancestors great conquest, but his sharp eyes kept darting to the movement outside, tempting him. A hundred excuses for him to go outside and walk in the snow fluttered behind his eyelids. Only the tiny voice in his mind that sounded far to much like Ada whispered 'Is playing in the snow something for a little prince to do? Of course not!', kept him rooted to the spot

"King Shyanlin was a respected scholar in the tactics of cavalry. He knew the major effect of cavalry came in the first moments of thunderous impact as horsemen drove into the enemy line. With the full momentum of the charge behind them, their three-meter-long lances smashed through armor, flesh and bone and hurtled the enemy troops back in disarray, to be trampled under the horses hooves. But once the horsemen..."

With sudden clarity he could hear hoof beats in the courtyard. He made to stand up, but immediately sat down again, glumly recalling Ada's order to 'Stay put!'. The order didn't keep him from craning his neck to see past the cooking building and into the courtyard. Mirkwood rarely had quests, for his father did not enjoy the input of other kings, and hated the race of men. He silently cursed his lack of height, if he were the weeist bit taller, he would've seen more than the swishing tips of hooded cloaks.

Could it be the ambassador from Rivendell? The ambassador had a soft spot for the eleven prince, and since Legolas's father had ban him from interacting with other children in fear that he could have the same fate as his fallen mother, he would visit Leoglas late at night and tell him tales of King Erond's children or just play games with him. He fondly recalled a story of Rivendell's twin princes Elladan and Elrohir getting up to mischievous trouble with their younger sister Arwen.

Through the flurries of snow, Servant elves came into view, leading a large group of multicolored horses. There were nine horses, but he had no doubt that at least two were pack horses. His anticipation mounted, and when no servant came to request his presence in greeting, slowly deflated. Regretfully, he turned back to his book:

"-trampled under the horses hooves. But-"

A messenger was in the doorway, Legolas eagerly gestured him forward. "Does my father call for me?"

Unsure, the messenger shook her head. "The King wishes you to know that there will be a welcoming banquet tomorrow night, My Lord."

Sighing, he waved the messenger away with a word of thanks, settling deeper into his chair to watch the snow fall and let his curiosity take hold of his imagination.

-----------------------------

An hour or so before the sun was set to rise over the hills, Legolas was awakened by the tiny tinkling of bells and a loud thump. At first his mind stayed stuck on the noise, until he realized that it was not bells but laughter. He'd only ever heard someone laugh if they were mocking another, but this sound was filled with pure mirth. Stumbling gracefully over to the balcony, he peered out into the forest. He had not trouble picking out the two dark haired figures in the snow. His breast beat with excitement, almost all the elves of Mirkwood were blond and fair (a strict stereotype, but true none the less).

The first of the strangers was extremely tiny and delicate, almost as young as himself, if not younger. The ellenth was splayed out under a tree, the snow around her crushed as if she had fallen. She was the one laughing, inky tresses trembling with cheer. As he watched, she stood and reached for a lower branch, struggling to pull herself up. Another branch and another, her sharp feachers outlined with determination. Growing more confident, she started to move faster, barely gripping a branch before she was on the next. At the very moment she reached halfway, her boot slipped. He gave a tiny hiss of surprise as she tumbled down. She landed in the same spot she'd started, miraculously unhurt. She laughed again, standing up to reach for another of the lowest branches.

It was then that the other figure spoke, his face was hidden by a cowl, stance suggesting angered amusement. "You have proven your point. Now give up this hopeless attempt and let me get you something for your arm."

Almost against his will, Legolas's eyes were drawn to her elbow, where thick blood was already staining the fabric. She gave a degrading glance down at her kinsman, "I will stop when you learn to fly."

He could hear the frown in his voice as the man scoffed, "I should never be compelled to even lift my feet off the ground."

"Then I, too, should never be compelled to think such thoughts of giving up."

With a sigh of resignation, the male turned and stalked away, calling over his shoulder, "When you finish with this silly activity, you may find me in my quarters."

With a clumsy salute, she called, "I shall return once I have one of the highest leaves!" The salute had unbalanced her, and with a yelp she tumbled back down the tall trunk. Smashing back down into the snow with a grunt.

Oh, how he wished to meet her, his father would doubtlessly not mind if he called spending time with her 'entertaining a quest'. With no further qualms, he raced down to the lowest floor, hoping she did not escape before he got there. In the hallway, he realized he was not the only one who had been awoke by the spectacle. Several elves were seated stiffly in the windowed halls to watch her.

The courtyard was thick with cold, each breath like an icy knife stabbing into his chest. He reached the tree just as she slipped again, neatly stepping out of her way as she fell once more into the cold snow drifts. Legolas leaned over her as she gasped with giggles. Noticing him, she tossed some snow in his direction and gave a light greeting. "Hello!"

He noticed that she didn't address him correctly and assumed she didn't know he was royalty. "Greetings, if you wish it, I could easily get you one of those leaves."

Her giggles stopped and she glared at him, "Getting the leaf isn't the point."

What? Immediately he was nervous, had he said something wrong? It wasn't like he had much experience with this sort of thing. Reluctant to argue he asked patiently, "Then what is the point?"

"Proving to the men that I can climb all the way up this tree is the point." She clasped his shoulder with innocent trust saying, "You can't get me a leaf, but you can help me get up to the top."

More than a little bemused, he helped her onto the first branch. They started climbing together, Legolas helping her when the branches were to far apart. He was so preoccupied with paying attention to her, that a first he didn't see the broken branch. Ignoring his instincts, he put his full weight on it, glancing down to see how his new friend fared.

Crack

Wood splintered away under his feet, he tumbled down, cracking his shoulder on a branch and getting leaves in his braids. He landed hard in the snow with a new respect for his female friend who had fallen many times, the wind knocked out of his chest.

"Are you alright?" The voice echoed from above, he could see his friend peering worriedly down from the canopy.

"Keep going!" He called back. She was only a few branches from the top, and without even the slightest flicker of doubt or resentment, she launched herself off the branch and plummeted. When she landed beside him, grinning as if she hadn't just almost reached the climax of her goal and now had to start over again. Standing, she and offered a hand to help him up. Fully astonished, he stared up at her. "Why did you do that? You were almost to the top!"

Throwing back her head with a laugh, she pulled him to his feet, "I'll never leave a comrade behind, besides, victory is not half as sweet if you lose a friend along the way!"

She once again reached for the first branch, with renewed vigor. This time, she was the one who was careful to watch him, immediately there to haul him up when his bruised shoulder gave out. Together they quested out the easiest road, spiraling up the tree together. When the girl's fingers slipped on heavy sap and she fell, Legolas fearlessly leapt after her.

"I did not expect you to do that." She said, turning on her side to see him over the drift of frozen water.

He glanced at her in wonderment, inspecting a scrape on his knee, "You would jump for me, but do not expect me to do the same?"

She sat up and touched a scrape on his cheek gently, "Thank you." Then she was up and reaching for a branch again.

Gently, he let his fingers skim over the cheek that she'd touched. He was startled by her sign of outright affection, used to the harsh uptight Mirkwood elves. He smiled to himself, And thank you too, for not being afraid of me or worried about about getting my favor. His fingers came away sticky with sap. She had wiped her dirty hands on his cheek!

Joking anger gave him a fresh burst of energy to climb with, and he raced up the tree to where she waited for him, like some sort of squirrel. This time they both intentionally covered their fingers of syrup, laughing as they smeared it on each others clothes. The sap worked as a kind of extra grip, helping to make sure their fingers and boots didn't slip. At the very tip of the tree, where even the base swayed in the breeze, two delicate frost-blackened leaves waited for them. This try was to be their last, the Ellenth lightly plucked one leaf, and Legolas gently picked the other.

Applause poured out through the windows, and Legolas realized he'd forgotten that other elves had been watching them climb.