Legolas stood in his room, looking out the window absently over the Greenwood. He was supposed to be preparing for a feast on his account, but he simply wasn't in the mood. He was supposed to be happy, for the celebration was for his coming of age. He was considered an adult, now, but he did not feel like one. He felt like a child, preferring to sit high in the trees to high on a throne. Legolas loved his father dearly, but he was not his father. Thranduil was regal and had a presence wherever he went. He was tall and strong, with a crown of green leaves upon his head for the summer. Legolas was small, girlish, with a thin frame, and slender shoulders. He was quiet, and could disappear easily out of the public eye, if he so wished to. Thranduil said his quiet demeanor was inherited from his mother, but even she was out in the clearing, preparing for the feast, while Legolas stood in his room in his deep green leggings, his shirt hanging limply from his hand.

Thranduil knocked on his son's doorframe a moment later, snapping the young elf out of his daydream.

"May I come in?" he asked through the drawn curtain that acted as a door into the prince's bedroom.

"Yes." He answered simply, not bothering to move. He simply stood still, looking down at the shirt in his hand, contemplating whether he should put it on, though he did not have much choice.

"What have you been doing up here? You aren't even dressed yet." Thranduil scolded gently, knowing how uneager his son was to join the celebration. "Guests have started to arrive. Everyone wishes to see you." The elf king said, sitting down on the chair at Legolas' desk, his long, flowing robe covering the chair completely. Though most elves wore dress robes to special occasions, none were as wonderfully extravagant as those of the royal family. Thranduil wore a pale blue satin robe, draped in shimmering grey shears that changed from silver to blue to shining white in the changing light. The inside of the robe was lined with rich green silk. Silver was Thranduil's signature: he always wore a silver robe, all of them a bit different, but all of them shimmering and grey. Legolas' mother usually wore deep burgundy or royal purple. Legolas' color was pale blue and a mossy green, colors he would be wearing to the feast.

Thranduil lifted the lightweight robe off Legolas' bed and handed it to him as the young elf straightened his shirt.

"Elladan and Elrohir are coming. I know you enjoy their company." Thranduil said in an attempt to enthuse Legolas. The young Elf smiled at his father briefly.

"Have you tried your robe on?" the king asked as Legolas slipped his skinny arms into the robe, fastening the clasps and tying the waist in a traditional knot at his side.

"Yes." He replied, again, simply and devoid of much emotion. Thranduil stood and straightened Legolas' sleeves, the deep green silk that made up the outside of the robe ended in a boarder of pale blue embroidered with delicate green leaves and vines, matching the motif on his circlet, which his father placed on his head. Thranduil smiled, stepping back and admiring his son.

"It suits you well. It's very light."

"I look like a girl." Legolas said quietly, noting how the pale blue shimmered through the green outer layer. Though the mossy green was solid, it was very thin silk, and the grey-blue could be seen clearly through it when the light hit just right. It was not that Legolas did not like his robe. He appreciated all of the effort that had gone into making it for him, but it was very lightweight and flow-y, a characteristic of a woman's formalwear. Legolas was just so thin and willowy that he would have been buried by anything more masculine and thick, like his father's robe.

"You do not look like a girl. You look like a handsome young man, and I think you'll be getting very much attention tonight. You're of age. That means you can engage in courtship." Thranduil said with a grin that he expected Legolas to return, but he did not. "You like to dance, iôn nín! Ask a young lady for a go around the dancing ring. Have fun."

"I am nervous, Ada." Legolas admitted with a meek smile, leaning into his father, who hugged him close.

"Everything will go wonderfully, I promise." Thranduil smiled, straightening Legolas' silver circlet. "Come, everyone is waiting to see you!" he added, holding the curtain aside for Legolas, following him out of the room.

—o0o—

Thranduil lead Legolas out onto the balcony that overlooked the clearing where his feast was taking place. Seeing the sea of guests just a staircase away was unnerving, and he stepped back, hiding behind his father. It did not take long for the crowd to notice him, though, and the crowd fell silent. Thranduil smiled before stepping aside and starting down the stairs, leaving Legolas alone, high above the crowd, placed on a pedestal like a piece of artwork. Everyone applauded as he descended the stairs, though he was looking at his feet the entire time, frightened of tripping over his long robes. He dared not lift them, though, for he had neglected to put on shoes in his rush. He hoped no one would notice.

The crowd was thick around him as he made his way to the table his mother and father were seated at, speaking to guests and subjects, most there to wish the young prince well, some there to bribe Thranduil into giving Legolas away for marriage. Legolas wasn't worried over that, though. His mother and father had promised he would choose his consort, and that they would willingly allow him to marry whom he chose, when he chose.

"Here you are, Dearest!" his mother cooed as he approached. She stood and embraced him. He smiled at her before sitting between her and his father.

"Legolas, do not sit with us all night. Go have fun." Thranduil prompted with a smile. "Please go and dance. Find a pretty girl! Any of them will have you." He whispered, looking out over the dancing ring. Legolas followed his gaze, but was still uninterested. He stood with a sigh, stepping down from the platform to appease his father's wishes. Linwe leaned over to her husband.

"He seems so out of place in a crowd." She said to him quietly.

"He is simply a person apart. He looks out of place because he holds himself differently. He holds himself as you do." He smiled. "Ethereal. Separate." He added, watching as Legolas' green robe disappeared into the crowd.

—o0o—

Legolas had been walking about for some time, speaking with friends and acquaintances, as well as subjects wishing him well. He looked out over the crowd, hoping to see Elladan or Elrohir, or anyone he was familiar with. Thranduil was very protective of Legolas. He and Linwe had lost their first son as a young child, before Legolas' time, and Thranduil vowed he would never lose a child again. He kept a close watch on Legolas, and did not allow him to leave the Greenwood. In fact, Legolas hardly left the palace grounds. Because of this, Legolas did not know many people personally. Elladan and Elrohir, though older than he, were his only very close friends. Their sister Arwen was also a friend, as well as Elrond's foster son, Estel, but he was very young last Legolas saw him.

The young Elf's eyes swept the crowd again as he swirled the wine in his glass absently. He smiled when he saw the twins, standing in the dancing ring, obviously trying to woo two young women. Legolas pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning against and made his way to them.

"Ah, the man of the hour!" Elladan said with a grin, embracing Legolas as he approached. "Korra, this is Legolas." He said, turning back to the girl he had been speaking with.

"Yes I know." She said, giving Elladan a snide sort of look. "He is my prince, I know who he is." She smiled at Legolas, blushing. "Happy Birthday, your Highness." She said. Legolas smiled in return.

"Hello, little Princeling. You've grown since last I saw you." Elrohir said with a smile.

"I highly doubt that." Legolas said with a meek smile, looking to his feet. "Even your lady is taller than I." He added in a whisper, noting the girl standing just behind Elrohir. He laughed.

"You will grow taller!" he said, straightening Legolas' circlet.

"It is good to see you, your Highness." The girl said with a smile and a bow of her head.

"You as well. Thank you for coming." He replied. She also turned a strange shade of pink before scurrying off after the other girl, who was giggling nearby.

"You are such a tease, Legolas!" Elladan broke in. "You only have to stand for girls love you!"

"Leave him alone, Elladan." Elrohir said. "You couldn't have wooed her anyhow. Korra did not like you."

"Her sister did not fancy you so much either." Elladan snapped back. Elrohir shook his head in exasperation. "I just don't understand why you don't have a nettë of your own yet! You only have to ask! Any girl would have you!"

"I have no interest." Legolas said, looking over his shoulder at the two girls who were still watching him.

"Ah I see! I'd bet you could convince a young buck if you tried t—" Elrohir gave his brother a whack on the head, and Legolas' face grew hot. He looked away.

"Leave him be! That is not what he said at all!" Elrohir said. Elladan rubbed at his head.

"There isn't anything wrong with it! Just look at Es—" Elrohir pressed his hand to Elladan's mouth, silencing him.

"Do you think before you speak? Do you think at all? That is not yours to tell!" Elladan licked his brother's hand, initiating a prompt removal.

"Alright! I am sorry! Where has Estel gotten to, anyhow?"

"Oh well done you've just told everything, now."

"I haven't told anything!"

"Both of you hush!" Legolas said, chuckling. "I care not whether Estel takes a benn or a bess. It does not matter. I just wanted to see you and say hello, not discuss my non-existent love life!"

"Forgive me." Elrohir said, pushing his dark hair behind his ear.

"Yes, forgive him." Elladan added. Legolas laughed.

"Did Estel come with you? He is very young, is he not?" Legolas asked, running his finger around the brim of his crystal glass, enjoying the hum it produced.

"You forget that he is not Elfkind. Though he is only eighteen summers, he is grown in the eyes of his people." Elrohir explained. Legolas nodded. "Here he comes now." Elrohir said as the young Man made his way through the crowd.

Though Legolas hadn't seen Estel since the boy was two years old, he immediately recognized him. The young man was but a taller version of his toddler self. He had the same wavy, dark hair and stormy grey eyes. He was tall, taller than Legolas, and strong, with broad shoulders and an awkward smile he flaunted when he saw his foster brothers.

"There you are." He said with a grin, approaching the trio. "I've been looking for you. You left me all alone!"

"I am sorry, Estel. Elladan was suddenly stricken with lust for a random Greenwood Miss, and I had the privilege of being dragged along."

"I was doing you a favor, she was with her pretty friend!" Elladan defended. Legolas laughed again.

"You remember Legolas, don't you, Estel?" Elrohir asked. Legolas offered a smile, which Estel returned.

"You played with me when I was small." He said. Legolas nodded.

"I did not expect to see you so grown." The elf admitted.

"And I did not expect to see you so constant! You haven't changed at all." He said, looking Legolas over slowly, carefully, noting every detail. Legolas smiled, surprised at his lack of self-consciousness. Normally, he would have been offended if someone looked him over so thoroughly, but there was something about Estel that made Legolas feel comfortable, contented, and he found himself staring as well. Most Elves were lithe and thin, but Estel was different. He was strong and hardened, with a chiseled face and jaw. His hands were calloused, obviously from swordplay, and Legolas was intrigued. His own hands were soft and smooth and pale, so different from the Man's. His intrigue soon turned to embarrassment, though. Never in his life had he felt so small and girlish. He wished he wasn't in his dress robes, though Elladan and Elrohir were dressed in much the same. The fact that Legolas wasn't wearing shoes also made him self conscious. Shoes may have given him more height. He shook his head to stop himself from thinking of his imperfections. Perhaps Estel was finding his quirks as endearing as Legolas was finding his.

"Elladan and I are going to say hello to your Atar, Legolas." Elrohir said after a long moment of silence.

"I'll say hello later—" Elladan began.

"No, now." Elrohir said, taking his brother's hand. Elladan understood and grinned at his brother. Legolas hardly noticed they had gone, lost in the man's gaze.

"You look…well." Legolas said quietly, looking down into his glass of red wine, fearful to catch Estel's gaze again.

"As do you, my Prince." He replied nervously, using his sleeve to wipe his forehead.

"Legolas, please. None of that 'my prince' nonsense." He said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, for he felt terribly heavy with emotion, and was detecting a similar feeling from the man who stood before him.

"Alright." He replied with a smile. "I-I have never been to the Greenwood before. It is beautiful here." He continued in an effort to make conversation. Legolas looked around. His kingdom was beautiful, especially now, during the feast. All of the boughs of all of the trees were strung with paper lanterns, all of them aglow with a flickering candle. Shining silver ornaments hung down from the branches as well, catching the light and reflecting it in small shimmering lights all around. The stars and the moon were visible through the breaks in the canopy of trees.

"Thank you." Legolas said, admiring his home. "I do love it here…"

"Perhaps I could…have a tour?" Estel asked with a meek smile. Legolas blushed, but nodded.

"I think that would be acceptable." He said. Estel offered the young Elf his hand, and Legolas took it cautiously, though he had been longing to hold that hand since he had first laid eyes on Estel. Legolas lead the man through the crowd quickly, avoiding conversation at all costs, suddenly longing for a quiet place. He hurried to the door, where two guards were standing.

"The door, please?" Legolas said to them with a smile. They immediately opened the heavy, oak doors. He pulled Estel inside eagerly.

"Alright. Someplace quiet." Legolas said with a smile, leaning against the wall for a moment, holding Estel's hands loosely in his own, looking into his grey eyes in the dim light of the hall.

"What would you like to see first?" Legolas asked quietly.

"Any place. As long as you will accompany me."

"Of course." Legolas replied, leading him down the long hall and through the archway into the formal foyer. Two massive, winding staircases spiraled up on either side of the room, leading up to the higher stories. In the center of the high ceiling hung a giant chandelier all of colossal antlers, lit with hundreds of candles. The floor was of stone tiles carved with intricate trees, a pattern of green glass separating all of the slates. Stained glass windows, also mostly of green, sparkled in the dim light.

They lingered here only a moment before Legolas lead Estel to the giant double doors between the two staircases. He smiled mischievously.

"Most people have to wait for hours to enter this room." He explained, leaning against the doors. "It is the heart of the palace."

"Am I permitted to enter?" Estel asked with a smirk.

"I think I may be able to get you inside." Legolas joked, reaching behind his back and turning the handle, opening the door soundlessly with a smile. Estel was in awe.

The throne room was spectacular in construction. It appeared to be created out of the forest itself, with winding limbs and roots for stairs and railings, the ceiling aglow with glass globes, all containing a candle. In the center of the large room was a throne of antlers and winding vines. Beside it was another, smaller throne, where Legolas' mother sat during meetings and gatherings.

"The throne room." Estel said, looking all around, lacing his fingers between Legolas', and making him shiver, though he could not explain why.

After a few moments wandering around the room together, Estel smiled at Legolas.

"What would you like to see next?" Legolas asked. Estel thought for a moment.

"I would like a closer look at the king's throne." He said with a cheeky grin. Legolas narrowed his eyes.

"A very bold request." He said with a smile.

"I will understand if it is not a possible request to fulfill." He said, taking the Elf's hands in his own.

"You forget that it is, by extension, my throne as well, Estel." He said, leading him up the short stair to the massive throne.

The young man smiled, admiring the throne: it's intricate, carved vines and leaves, the tangled, yet somehow organized collection of antlers that made up the bulk of the chair.

"Sit down, if you'd like." Legolas said. Estel shook his head.

"I would much rather see you sit. It is your place. You are royal indeed." Legolas smiled meekly at the flattery, but sat down on the edge of the throne nonetheless, feeling out of place. He placed his hands carefully in his lap and sat, looking up into Estel's eyes.

"And now what do you wish to see?" Legolas asked. Estel appeared to think again, running his hand through his dark hair.

"There is one thing I have always wished to see." He said. Legolas listened intently. "I have heard rumors of a jewel that is said to reside in this palace." Legolas cocked his head.

"A jewel? Do you take us for Dwarves, Estel?" Legolas smiled.

"It is not any jewel a Dwarf has found." He continued, leaning closer to Legolas.

"And what does this jewel look like?" the elf asked.

"It is very fair indeed. White with sparkling gold. It is not especially great in size, but its worth is beyond the riches of Erebor and all the lands of this Middle Earth combined." He inched closer to Legolas until their foreheads touched, their noses brushing gently.

"And where does this jewel reside?" Legolas whispered.

"It is before me." Estel replied in hardly a breath, leaning over Legolas, supporting himself on the arms of the throne. He kissed the elf, lightly, cautiously at first. When Legolas did not recoil, Estel intensified, causing the young Elf to melt into the throne, pulling his legs up as Estel leaned over him. Legolas placed a hand on Estel's corded shoulder, the other tangling in the young man's silken hair. Legolas allowed himself to be overpowered, and pressed his back up against the throne as Estel finally pulled away, breathless. Legolas sat quietly, contentedly, his eyes closed and a smile on his lips.

"I have never done that before." He admitted with a shy smile.

"You haven't?" Estel asked, sitting next to Legolas, pulling the Elf into his lap, allowing him to lean against him.

"And you have?" he asked, almost surprised. How could such a young man have done something so powerful before? Elves were very fragile when it came to matters of the heart, and Legolas could not imagine trying anything, even something as simple as a kiss, without being completely smitten with the other…Which Legolas realized he was.

"Once or twice." Estel admitted with a shrug.

"Twice? But how can one fall in love twice in only eighteen years? And what happened to the others who came before me?" he asked, his eyes shining in wonder and mild worry. He had never encountered a Man before, and was curious about Estel's feelings on the matter.

"One does not have to be in love to enjoy another's company." He explained mildly. Legolas did not think so little of his response, and pushed up and off of the man, standing in front of him, rigid.

"Not in love?" the elf repeated, feeling tears stinging behind his bright blue eyes.

"No. No Legolas that isn't what I meant—" he said, standing and offering the elf his hand. Legolas only looked at him, his eyes wide, and his mouth slightly agape in an awful rush of emotion. He backed away when Estel approached him.

"Not in Love." Legolas said again, a statement, no longer a question. He felt his lip quiver and turned around before Estel could see his tears. He ran from the throne room, glad he hadn't worn shoes, slamming the heavy door behind him.

Estel watched the beautiful creature go, powerless to stop him, his golden hair disappearing around the door.

"I'm sorry." He said to Legolas, though he knew he could not hear.