Story Summary – Legolas becomes the personal bodyguard to the Rhûn king's young daughter and as the years pass he confronts serious complications.

Disclaimer – I own nothing originally found in any of Tolkien's books.

WARNING – This story contains the following:
1) mushy, sappy romance
2) some explicit sexual content in later chapters
3) representation of Legolas in a slightly out of character manner
4) mild violence and angst
5) a scattering of flashbacks in chronological order

Author's Note – I've been fiddling with this story on and off for almost two years and I think I've finally got it heading in the right direction. I wasn't going to post it until I was satisfied with the rewrite of the first chapter. Well, here it is. By the way, some of you who read my unposted NC-17 fanfic "No Control" will recognize the name Silivrén. It's so hard finding uncomplicated Elven names. I'm sure some of you can relate.

Destined to Reign
By Marisa

Chapter 1 – A Life to Protect

The Present

The Sea of Rhûn extended far to the south, the wind blowing gently across the tall grass lining its banks. A variety of birds flitted among the nearby trees, chirping excitedly at the intrusion of the approaching mass of people on horseback.

An Elf rode several paces ahead of everyone else, his spirited gray mount snorting in frustration at the slow pace. He shifted his eyes to the body of water on his left, searching for signs of danger, listening to every sound that reached his pointed ears. Although nothing had threatened them thus far since leaving the safety of the walls of Rhûnen, there was always a possibility of an Orc attack.

Legolas turned his attention back to the path in front of him. The land stretched out for miles and miles, barren of any hills. He knew what laid ahead for he had once traveled the same way, a little over a decade ago. Two full days of arid flatlands awaited them at this pace. He decided maintaining a course along the banks of the sea would be beneficial to the others, for once they crossed the River Carnen, they would go nearly a week before seeing another body of water. Water needed to be conserved and bathing would be a long-forgotten luxury, even for himself or the princess.

He turned his head to look over his right shoulder. Twenty-two Rhûnen citizens traveled with him. The majority made up the king's guard, many of whom he was proud to call friends. The rest consisted of four of the king's advisors and two women. One of the women was Silivrén, the king's daughter. The other was her elderly handmaiden, Teress.

Legolas spoke not a single word to Silivrén since they departed her realm. It disturbed him to think he needed to distance himself from her, both physically and mentally. After all the years that passed, although not so long for an Elf, it would be difficult. The feelings he tried to lock away of late continued to pain him and he knew they would indefinitely.

How much heartache could an Elf tolerate before he faded from the living world? Everyone he knew and loved either had sailed West or died. Aragorn and Arwen were long gone and to the Undying Lands his father had sailed. Even his stout dwarf friend, Gimli…perished of old age. Now Silivrén was about to be taken from him. Nothing else tied him to his existence in Middle-Earth.

Perhaps it was better this way. Afterall she would eventually die like all the others and he would still be alone.

§

Silivrén was not so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice Legolas looking back in her direction. She knew the reason for his silence and didn't question it. Her own thoughts were troubled beyond measure.

How had it come to this? Why did fate bring them together over a decade ago…only to rip them apart?

All her life, she was given anything she could ever want. But being the king's daughter came with a price. The price of freedom. She was never alone, never unescorted. The king of Rhûn had no other heirs. Silivrén was the last of the royal line. She understood why her safety was so vital. What she didn't understand was why she couldn't make her own decisions? She was given no choice in the matter. She was destined to reign, whether she desired it or not.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats. She looked up and saw Legolas cantering toward her. He slowed Alagos and spun him around to ride side by side with her.

Silivrén studied his features. She was all too familiar with the many emotions that crossed the Elf's face. His current look reflected the melancholy state of his mood. Then he gave her a barely noticeable wink, obviously so the others in their party would not see.

The wink reminded Silivrén of another time, when the mysterious Elf named Legolas first came to Rhûn. She had only been ten years of age at the time. The memory of that initial meeting was forever burned in her mind. Being so young, she was extremely impressionable and curious about everything new she encountered. Having heard so much about the Elves from her mother, it was only natural for her to become infatuated with the beautiful being that soon became an indispensable part of her life.

At Ten Years of Age

Young Silivrén stared wide-eyed toward the center of the arena. She was fascinated by the presence of one of the competitors. His luxurious, golden-white hair flew like silk around his fair face with every move he made. The sides were braided in plaits and he sported a braid at the back of his head. His movements were graceful as he contended against the kingdom's finest soldiers. Many of the soldiers under the king's command were known to be the best in all of Rhûn, surpassing even the skills of the Corsairs or the Haradrim that also came to compete. But this solitary Elf was defeating any that went against him.

First he dominated the competition in archery. Every single arrow was shot with unmatched precision. With his solid stance and the strength in his arms as he stretched the bowstring, he made it seem effortless in comparison to the other competitors

Next he revealed his amazing ability at swordplay. Rather than a broadsword, the Elf had two long knives with curved blades and white handles. He skillfully blocked the blows of his opponents and barely stopped short of cutting off their heads or limbs as he defeated them with such ease.

The king of Rhûn watched the competition from his place in the stands. His interest in the event was of a personal nature. He would ask the winner to join his regime and to personally safeguard the life of the princess. Rataman was most impressed with the skills of the Elf and was already thinking about not waiting for the competition to end before making his choice. "I have never seen such proficiency in all of my days," he stated.

An advisor seated behind the king leaned forward. "The Elf hails from Mirkwood."

"Mirkwood? Where is that?"

"An Elven realm situated far north in Rhovanion."

King Rataman knew the Elven woods to the northwest had been avoided for many centuries by the people of Rhûn. Trade routes were maintained in the Haradwaith regions to the south, while the lands of Elves and Men were circumvented. There were solid reasons to avoid them…and for that Rataman was remorseful. With all that transpired nearly two millennia ago, Rataman wondered if the Elf was intentionally demonstrating his skill to prove his superiority. "What is the identity of this Elf?" he curiously asked Koran.

"He is Prince Legolas, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood," replied the advisor.

Silivrén turned to her father. "He is a prince?"

The advisor continued, "He also personally participated in defeating Sauron decades ago."

Rataman nodded thoughtfully, his decision made. Then he glanced in the direction of the guard captain standing a few feet away. "Bring him to me."

"The competition is not yet over, my Lord," Collin objected. "Someone else may still have an opportunity to win."

"Considering how things have progressed thus far, I find that hard to believe. Bring him to me," the king repeated.

The captain of the guard bowed his head and quickly departed.

Rataman turned back to witness the Elf defeat yet another opponent, the Corsair's sword flung high into the air and behind him.

Cheers for the Elf followed. He had quickly become the people's favorite as he won each part of the competition. Despite the cheers of the spectators, the Elf humbly didn't acknowledge the praise.

Rataman turned to his daughter and smiled at the fascination upon her face. Before she died two years ago, his wife frequently enchanted their daughter with stories of the beautiful Elves she had once crossed paths with. It was from that moment on that Silivrén had an unrelenting desire to see one up close. Rataman was well aware of it and now she would have an Elf as her very own personal guardian. "It seems your fondest wish is about to come true, my little Silivrén."

When the king first told his daughter the main purpose of the competition, she vehemently argued that she needed no such bodyguard. He tried to explain the dangers of being a princess, but she was too young to truly comprehend her status.

As the games began, Rataman was aware the very sight of many of the opponents seemed to disgust Silivrén. Especially the foul looking Corsairs. Although cleaner in appearance, the Haradrim warriors seemed cold and unforgiving even to him, so he imagined the thoughts rolling in his young daughter's mind. To have any one of them in her personal company, for every moment of her days and nights, and even in her own bed chamber…it seemed unthinkable. Rataman had yet to determine the Elf's countenance, but he was fairly certain he might prove to be a far better guardian than any of his own soldiers.

§

Legolas ascended the steps of the arena stands, following the captain of the guard to a section reserved for the king and his advisors. When the captain first approached and informed him the king wanted to meet him, he went without question. He had hoped to gain the king's favor by demonstrating his honed abilities. And now the moment had arrived.

The guard left him standing before the king. Legolas respectfully bowed his head and kept his eyes lowered. "My Lord."

"I have been told that you are Prince Legolas," said the Rhûn king.

When the king waved him closer, Legolas stepped forward and finally raised his eyes. "That is correct."

"As prince, are you not needed by your father and your own kingdom?"

"Most of my kind have sailed to the Undying Lands, my Lord." Legolas kept his voice neutral, but it was often difficult for him to relegate the authoritative tone after so many millennia commanding his father's troops. "There is no kingdom for me to rule. Thus my title no longer holds any status." He briefly glanced toward the terrified child sitting beside the king.

"Why have you not sailed with your kin?" the king continued.

Legolas turned to him again. "I don't feel the pull of the sea. Tis apparent there is yet a venture the Valar wish me to fulfill."

"You are far from your realm, Legolas."

"My presentiment has led me to these lands."

King Rataman accepted his words and stood up. "According to written history, our forefathers were mortal enemies."

There was no need to deny the facts. History was history. "Tis true. The Wainriders defeated Gondor and enslaved many inhabitants of Rhovanion."

"Were you among them at the time?" Rataman asked as he stepped forward.

"No, my father's realm was far north in the woods. But we were prepared to fight if it came down to it."

"I'm certain your people would have proven to be formidable."

Legolas wondered if the king had requested his presence in order to discuss ancient history.

"I value my young daughter more than anything else in my life and I'm in need of someone with the appropriate skills to protect her. I'm most impressed with the displayment of your abilities today and greatly desire to enlist your services. That is, of course, as long as you hold no grudge against the kingdom of Rhûn for its past alliance with the dark lord."

Legolas nodded his head in consent. "The past is just that…the past. I honorably accept the position, my Lord."

With a smile Rataman placed a hand on Legolas's shoulder. "Then I give you my daughter's life to protect."

"I will safeguard her with my own life." Legolas tilted his face toward the child staring wide-eyed at him. He sensed her unbridled fear and yet he also felt a small measure of excitement exuding from her. Wanting to ease her apprehension, he raised the right corner of his lips, giving her an amicable smile. Then he followed it with an almost imperceptible wink of his right eye.

§

Even at her young age, Silivrén understood the feelings that made her heart pound uncontrollably. His eyes were a deep, brilliant blue, like nothing she had ever seen before. When he first caught her staring at him, she was terrified.

But Silivrén couldn't look away from him. He was beautiful, almost like a woman. Yet he exuded an undoubted masculinity and she was awed by his presence. Standing so closely, he was far taller and leaner than seeing him from a distance. He appeared to be formidable, a commanding force to be reckoned with.

However, the moment he gave her the slightest wink, it instantly gave Silivrén a sense of the Elf's playfulness. Her sudden apprehension at the sight of him quickly melted away. Perhaps he wouldn't be so bad.

§

Later that evening, Silivrén's handmaiden, Teress, just finished dressing the child for the night when the door suddenly swung open. Both Silivrén and Teress jumped and turned to see Legolas enter.

"A knock would have been in order, sir," cried out Teress.

Legolas ignored her and proceeded to walk around the bed chamber, inspecting the geography of the room. He went to the window and looked down from it.

As he continued his inspection, Silivrén sat down at the edge of the bed. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she watched with amusement as Teress grabbed things out of his hands and placed them back where they belonged. He seemed genuinely curious about her personal items. The cloth doll sitting on the dresser, the bowlful of seashells.

"Do you mind?" Teress asked in exasperation.

Legolas continued to ignore the handmaiden and paused in front of the daybed beneath another window. "This is where I will sleep."

Teress gasped in shock. "Absolutely out of the question! You will sleep outside of that door, on the floor, you tyrant."

Silivrén covered her mouth with both of her hands to keep from laughing.

Legolas's brows drew together as he turned to face the insubordinate handmaiden. "You will mind your tongue in my presence."

"Careful, Teress," young Silivrén interjected. "He is a prince."

Teress huffed in disgust. "I care not if he is the king of Arda. He will not be allowed to sleep in this room." To her surprise, the Elf unsheathed a white-handled long knife from his back and advanced upon her. She squeaked out a cry of fear and quickly bolted toward the door. "I will speak to the king about this."

"Please do so," replied Legolas. "For your information, by order of the king, I have been instructed as of this very moment to not ever let Silivrén out of my sight. I have also been instructed to terminate the life of anyone who prevents me from fulfilling that responsibility." He gave her a lethal look. "I certainly hope you are not attempting to hinder me…my lady."

Visibly shaken, Teress quickly left the chamber, closing the door behind her without another word.

Silivrén could no longer stop her laughter.

Legolas sheathed his long knife and turned to the girl with a raised eyebrow. "I certainly hope you agree that handmaidens are nothing but a nuisance."

"She is far worse than my mother ever was," Silivrén confessed with a giggle.

He unbuckled the strap at his chest and placed the quiver and weapons on the floor against the wall. Then he approached and knelt on the floor in front of Silivrén. "I spoke the truth when I said you will never be out of my sight."

"Are you to follow me into the bath as well?" she asked, her blue eyes wide as saucers.

Legolas took her left hand and held it between both of his. "No, I will not follow you into the bath."

After noticing the size of his hands in comparison to her tiny one, Silivrén looked up at his pleasant face. "You have very pretty eyes." The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them.

He chuckled. "And so do you, little princess."

"I have never met an Elf before."

He smiled at her. "Is that so? Your name is Elvish."

Silivrén's jaw dropped in amazement. "I didn't know that."

"So if you've never met an Elf before, how did you come about such a name?"

"Mama named me, I suppose." She looked thoughtful. "I do know she met an Elf or two before I was born."

"Tis the color white you are named after. A glittering white, such as the sparkle in your eyes." He playfully tickled the side of her neck.

Silivrén giggled bashfully and then a bold thought entered her mind. "May I touch your ears?"

He frowned slightly, but maintained his smile. "I do not think that is wise."

"Why not?"

"The ears of an Elf are very sensitive."

"Do you mean that it will hurt you if I touch them?"

There was a pause before he responded. "Tis best if I leave that question unanswered until you are older." Before she could question him further, he stood up and pulled down the sheets of her bed, prompting her to get beneath them. He tucked the sheets around her and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Trust your life to me, Silivrén. I will never let any harm come to you. And I will always be here should you need someone when you are feeling sad."

"Sometimes I cry when I think of mama because I loved her and miss her so much. Do you cry when you think of those you love?"

He reached out to caress her cheek. "I do because they are gone and I miss them terribly."

"You are all alone then?"

He gave her a warm smile. "Not anymore."

Without thinking, Silivrén sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I'm so pleased you are my guardian, Legolas."

"So am I." When she released him, Legolas tucked her back beneath the covers and bent to press a soft kiss upon her forehead. "Maer velui, Erelei."

Silivrén smiled at his pretty words. "What does that mean?"

"Pleasant dreams, sweet one."

When he brushed his thumb over her brow, she felt her eyelids begin to grow heavy. "Will you teach me to speak your language?" she whispered.

"I will do whatever you desire."

Silivrén drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

Legolas remained seated beside her for awhile before he moved to sit on the daybed. But he continued to listen to her steady breathing, becoming familiar with its pattern so that in the future he would be alerted to the slightest change and know if something was wrong.