Ilmare trailed behind Aerin as she led her through the crowded hallways, her small legs worked hard to keep up with the elleths long strides.
"How are you liking the Greenwood, young one?" asked Aerin as they walked, slowing her pace so that Ilmare could keep up.
Ilmare tore her eyes off her surroundings to look up at the elleth, grinning widely. "I am enjoying it very much, thank you." She said, returning her attentions to the elaborate halls around her. "I am very pleased to be here."
Aerin smirked at the child as they stopped at the dining hall door. "And for that, I am glad." She turned her gaze towards the door before continuing. "Now, I do believe the Lady Melian and her son are awaiting your arrival." The elleth lightly pushed on the door, opening it to a small room.
There was a long, rectangular table in the middle of the room, foods of all sorts spread across its surface. Legolas and Melian were sitting across from each other, pausing their conversations when Ilmare entered, giving smiles of welcome.
"Good morning, Ilmare," said Melian kindly, her eyes grinning, she turned to Aerin and nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, Aerin. You are dismissed."
The elleth bowed respectfully and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind in her wake.
Ilmare stood by herself, shifting awkwardly in the silence. She lowered her large eyes to her feet, suddenly felt very shy, but she didn't know why.
Melian noticed the girls discomfort and gave her an encouraging smile. "Come, my dear. You can sit next to me," she patted an empty seat beside her.
Ilmare scrambled towards Melian at her word, quickly plopping herself into the chair, smiling kindly at Legolas, who returned it with equal warmth.
"Hi, Ilmare," the young prince said, waving a berry stained hand towards her.
"Hello, Legolas," she said, giving a dainty wave of her own
Melian began loading Ilmare's plate with firm grapes, bright red apples, and freshly baked bread.
"How did you sleep last night?" the queen asked as she slid the plate in front of Ilmare.
"Very well, thank you." The girl answered before taking a huge bite of the apple, the sweet juices flooding her mouth and dripping off her chin. Ilmare did not pay the mess she was making any heed, for she was too hungry, and apples were her favorite food.
Melian chuckled at the girl, whose cheeks were stuffed and rounded with the fruit. She was crunching happily, lips pursed in a smile. The queen picked up a napkin and wiped the sticky mess off Ilmare's chin.
"I would assume that you like it?" she laughed as Ilmare continued to quickly consume the food.
Ilmare swallowed her mouthful before answering. "Yes, apples are my favorite."
Legolas' eyes brightened at this, sitting up straighter in his chair. "Mine too!"
Melian smiled fondly at her son before turning back to Ilmare. "Yes, Legolas favors the green ones."
Ilmare licked her lips. "I like the red ones." She said as she finished the apple right down to the core, picking pieces of the inside of the bread out of the crust and popping them into her mouth.
They ate a little while longer, making small talk. Legolas began to get to know Ilmare better, beginning to like the girl more and more.
But, the more Melian looked at the girl, the more familiar she seemed, at yet, she couldn't place a finger on it. It was her eyes, she knew it. Ilmare's eyes reminded her of a friend from long ago…
No, Melian shook herself. It is not possible. She would of never treated anyone like this.
Melian cleared those thoughts from her mind and turned to Ilmare. "Starting tomorrow, you will be beginning studies with Legolas. Aerin will retrieve you in the mornings and bring you to your tutor."
School? Ilmare thought. Well, I guess that's better than doing nothing. "What will I be learning?"
Melian began to tick off her fingers. "History, geography, languages, writing, and the arts." She paused. "Once you reach the age of twenty, you will choose your job. Legolas already wishes to become a warrior, but you have time to choose…"
Ilmare thought for a moment. She did have eight years… but at home, she did always want to be a doctor. She liked helping people. It made her feel good inside. She used to pretend she was healing her dolls back at home, putting band-aids over fake skinned knees or giving medicine if one of them had come down with a fever.
"Do you have any idea of what interests you?" Melian began slowly, even if she already knew. "There's scholars, musicians, healers…" she drifted off, leaving it at that. The queen had a small amount of foresight. Not as much to see visions, but enough to have good instincts about others.
Ilmare looked at her, eyes wide in interest. "Maybe a healer…" she said, trying to sound nonchalant, but unable to keep the note of excitement out of her voice.
Melian smirked at the girl, watching her wiggle in her seat. Legolas was doing the same. The young elves couldn't stay still for very long.
"Legolas," said the queen, catching the boy's attention. "Why don't you show Ilmare around to your favorite places? Introduce her to some of the others in the Greenwood."
Legolas perked up at this, excited to be given a task. "Yes, naneth." He slid off of his chair and motioned to Ilmare to follow him. "Come on!"
The young girl hopped of her seat and hurried to Legolas' side as he led her out of the dining room into the halls.
"Where are we going?" asked Ilmare after a bit of traveling.
"The kitchens!" answered Legolas, his eyes bright.
Ilmare pouted her lips and furrowed her brows in confusion. "But why? We just ate."
Legolas rolled his eyes, as if the answer was obvious. "The head cook always gives me sweet-cakes when I ask. He makes the best ones in all of Middle Earth! I bet he will give some to you too."
"Good morning, young prince!" called out an elf as they passed.
Legolas stopped walking, causing Ilmare to almost crash into his back. The boy turned and gave a nod of respect. "Good morning!" he replied and continued walking. He sighed loudly once they were out of earshot. "I hate having to be so polite all the time. It's so boring! I even have to take studies for it."
Ilmare giggled at his frustration. "Well, you're the prince! Can't you just say that you won't do this anymore?"
"Well," began Legolas sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not exactly a prince yet…"
"What do you mean?" questioned Ilmare, noting the bit of color that flushed to his cheeks and tips of his ears.
"I am not a crowned prince yet, so I do not have much authority. I will, however, once I come of age." He explained.
"Then if you're not a prince, that makes you a…" Ilmare paused in thought, tapping her chin with her index finger. "Oh! A prince-ling!" she exclaimed.
Legolas narrowed his eyes, not fond of that term. "Maybe…" he grumbled under his breath.
Ilmare smirked, happy of the reaction she was getting out of him. "Oh, don't be mad at me, my dear princeling." She quipped sarcastically.
"Ha ha," Legolas said without humor. "Very funny. I could probably get you thrown into the dungeons you know,"
"No you can't!" stated Ilmare, snickering quietly.
Legolas sighed loudly as they reached the doors to the kitchen, opening it a crack and peering around to make sure it was clear.
"Avolozir!" hissed Legolas quietly, stepping slipping inside with Ilmare at his wake. "Avolozir, are you here?"
Ilmare watched as a dark haired elf looked up from where he was chopping vegetables with a sharp knife. I friendly smile graced his lips as he saw Legolas.
"Hello, prince Legolas," he said, wiping his hands on his trousers, grinning widely. He was very tall, with warm brown eyes and a few strands of his hair loose from the low ponytail that cascaded down his back. His eyes moved from Legolas to Ilmare, looking at her with interest.
"I do not believe we have met," he said, lowering down to eye level with the girl, suddenly making Ilmare feel very shy. "My name is Avolozir. What is yours?"
Ilmare tore her gaze from her feet to look the elf in the eye, feeling a bit better when she saw the kindness within his gaze. "Ilmare." She replied softly.
"It is nice to meet you, Ilmare." He didn't mention that he had wanted to catch a glimpse of the mysterious elfling that the queen brought into the caves the day before. Everyone was talking about her, wondering what the king would do, or if she was a friend of foe.
Avolozir shook these thoughts out of his head, turning towards Legolas again, an amused smirk upon his face. "I am guessing that you might want a sweet-cake, am I correct, Prince?"
Legolas nodded vigorously. "Please?" he paused, and then pointed towards the girl. "And one for Ilmare, if you can."
"Have you had breakfast yet?" the older elf asked as he stood. "I don't want to face your naneths wrath if I spoil a meal."
"We have eaten already." Said Legolas, eager for the baked good.
Avolozir bowed low. "Then your wish is my command." He strode over to a tall table and opened a small box, pulled out two thin, glazed cakes. He handed them over to the two elflings.
The sweet smell reached Ilmare's nose before she took it in her hand. The sugary glaze was sticky on her small fingers.
"Try them," Avolozir urged. "I wish to know what you think."
Legolas wasted no time taking a monstrous bite out of the pastry, while Ilmare took a small nibble out of the corner. It was very sweet, but not too much to be overwhelming. The cake was soft and moist, with a small amount of lemon flavoring.
Avolozir watched Ilmare's face carefully. "Well? What do you think?"
Ilmare swallowed before answering, licking a hint of glaze off of her lips. "It is wonderful!"
The cook smirked proudly as she took another dainty bite, finishing the treat a bit after Legolas.
The young prince grinned at Avolozir, licking the last remnants of the sticky glaze off of his fingers. "Thank you, Avolozir! It was delicious!"
Ilmare nodded in agreement.
The elf looked at the two young ones happily. "I am glad you enjoyed it. Come back anytime." He paused. "Oh, and Ilmare," the young girl turned to him right before she was about to walk out the door. "It was a pleasure to meet you."
Ilmare blushed involuntarily. "You too!" she said, and followed Legolas back into the halls.
"Didn't I tell you he is the best?" said Legolas proudly, crossing his arms over his chest.
Ilmare nodded. "Yes, my dear princeling. You are correct."
Legolas groaned, tossing his head back, causing Ilmare to giggle into her hand.
"I will get a name for you too!" the prince vowed.
"Oh yeah?" taunted Ilmare. "Like what?"
Legolas opened his mouth to reply, but shut it abruptly, lost in thought. "I do not know yet."
Ilmare laughed and playfully patted his head. "Perhaps one day you will think of it!"
Legolas narrowed his eyes down at the small girl. She was tiny even in elvish standards, and that's how Legolas thought of the perfect name for her. "Perhaps one day I will… thinnas."
Ilmare paused, translating it in her head, before her jaw dropped and she stubbornly placed her hands on her hips. "Shortness?" she cried. "I'm not that much smaller than you!"
Legolas chuckled. He was a couple inches taller than her and had the feeling he would always be. "I am still taller!"
Ilmare stood up on her toes, so she was the smallest bit taller. "Now I am!"
"Hey!" Legolas cried, putting his hands on her shoulders and pushing her back on her feet. "That's cheating!"
Ilmare simply giggled and put her hands behind her back. "Now where will we go?"
"Hmm," Legolas hummed as he thought, tapping his toes on the ground. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "I know! You can meet my ada!"
Ilmare nodded and grinned. She had not met his father yet. "Okay! That sounds nice."
Legolas bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, starting forward. "Let's go then!" he said as he took off.
Ilmare's eyes widened as she realized that if she didn't hurry, she was going to be left behind. She sprinted after Legolas, weaving between the legs of older elves along with the prince, earning a few surprised glances as they passed by.
They were both out of breath when they reached the entrance of the throne room.
Legolas strode up to a guard stationed at the door. "Is my ada in here?" he asked, taking deep breaths.
The guard's eyes shifted to Ilmare, but the girl didn't notice. She was too busy looking at her surroundings. The guard watched her curiously for a moment, wondering what the king was so worried about. He put the guards on high alert because of this elfling? She looked like she could do no harm, even if she tried.
The guard turned back to Legolas and gave a curt nod. "Yes, young prince." He pushed open the heavy doors and moved to let the two elflings in. Legolas hurried in, eager to see his father, but Ilmare walked through the entrance slowly, looking up at the guard with wide, dark blue eyes.
"Thank you," she said before she was inside fully.
The guard watched as she caught up with Legolas, becoming more confused at king Thranduil's decisions every moment. He shook his head and shut the door.
Ilmare couldn't keep the awed gasp from escaping her lips as she took in the spacious room. It was high, from the throne the king could watch over the main halls of Greenwood. The throne itself was carved in the likeliness of antlers, and sat high and proud. Ilmare walked up the stairs leading to where the throne sat, tentatively. She glanced shyly at the two guard positioned on either side of the stair case, suddenly feeling very small.
Thranduil was speaking to one of his advisors when he saw his son jog up the stairs.
"Ada!" cried Legolas waving towards his father, who smiled.
Thranduil stood from his throne and walked towards Legolas, kneeling down in front of his son. "Legolas!" he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He studied his small face and noticed the crumbs on the corner of his lip. "Were you in the kitchens again?"
Legolas nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Thranduil chuckled. "I'm guessing Avolozir gave you some of his cakes then?"
"Yes, ada." Replied Legolas. "And Ilmare too." He said, turning over his shoulder and looking towards the small girl who stood silently with her hands tucked behind her back. When she saw the king looking over to her, she scampered over to Legolas' side.
Thranduil stood to his full height when he saw the girl coming to them. He watched as Ilmare curtsied respectfully.
"Suilad," said Ilmare in Sindarin. "I am Ilmare."
Thranduil looked down at her over the bridge of his nose, his lip curling slightly. The girl did look harmless, but a king could never be too careful when it comes to protecting his people. "Hello," he responded simply and returned his attention back to his son.
Ilmare furrowed her brows in confusion. Did she say something wrong? No… Suilad meant greetings, she was sure of it. Did she curtsy improperly? Did she make the wrong kind of eye contact? She thought like this for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out what she did wrong in that short span of time. She didn't pay much attention to the conversation that the father and son were having until Legolas tugged on her wrist, pulling her from her thoughts.
"Come on, Ilmare!" he urged. "We must go!"
Ilmare blinked a couple of times, refocusing her mind.
"Goodbye, Ada!" said Legolas waving.
Ilmare bowed her head this time in farewell, wary of curtsies now. She let Legolas lead her out of the throne room, but she felt the king's heated gaze on her back the entire time, until the doors shut behind them.
Ilmare let out a deep breath, her small body relaxing now that she was away from the king. She looked towards Legolas, a look of content upon his face. She decided not to tell him of her feelings towards his father, knowing it wouldn't end well.
Legolas spent the rest of the day showing her through the halls and a bit of the forest. She tried her best to enjoy it, but the king was always in the back of her mind, nagging and annoying her for the rest of the day.
Ilmare was even quiet at dinner, paying attention to her bowl of soup more than the happenings around her. The king was there, and Ilmare focused all her attention on not doing anything wrong. She only spoke when Melian asked her something. The queen could see something was off with the girl, and could only assume that it was the fault of her mate.
Ilmare said a friendly goodnight to the royal family and then went to her room, surprised to find Aerin there.
"Oh," said Ilmare, closing the door behind her. "Hello, lady Aerin."
Aerin chuckled, hardly thinking herself as a lady. She was a simple servant, and fine with it. "Hello, young one. How was your day?"
Ilmare shifted her weight slightly, showing slight discomfort. "Very good, thanks."
Aerin raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced at her answer, but she knew the girl would open up when she felt like she should. The elf would not pry.
Aerin gestured towards the washroom. "I have drawn a bath for you before you go to bed."
Ilmare could faintly smell the scents of many different soaps wafting from the bath. "Thank you," Ilmare said.
Aerin helped her undress and then into the warm water of the tub. She handed Ilmare soaps as they spoke. "So, what was the most interesting part of the day?"
Ilmare was scrubbing her arms with a small bar of soap, enjoying the scent of lavender that it gave off. "Well," the girl said, beginning to scrub her other arm. "We went into the kitchens, and Legolas introduced me to Avolozir."
Aerin smiled. "He is very kind, is he not? Did he give you some of his cakes? Everyone in Greenwood loves them."
Ilmare nodded her head, rinsing her arms with water, watching the bubbles float on top of the water. "They were very good. I could eat one hundred of them!" she said, throwing in arms in the air for emphasis, sending a few droplets of water of Aerin's skirt. "Oh! Sorry."
"It is only water, my dear. It will dry." The elleth picked a bottle of a hair scrub off the counter. "Would you like me to help you with your hair?"
Ilmare nodded. "Yes, please."
Aerin kneeled down behind Ilmare, grabbing a small water jug and filling it from the bath. Then, poured it upon Ilmare's head, making the girls auburn hair a few shades darker. She poured the scrub into the palm of her hand and began working it into Ilmare's hair.
Ilmare tilted her head back, enjoying the feeling of Aerin's fingers massaging her scalp. They sat in silence for a minute, before Ilmare spoke up, asking the question that had been nagging her mind almost all day.
"Aerin, why does the king dislike me?"
Ilmare felt her stop scrubbing for a moment, but quickly began working her fingers through her thick hair again.
"Why would you think that?" asked Aerin. She was surprised by her question, not expecting anything like that from her.
Ilmare shifted in the tub, disturbing the water. "Well, when I met him today, he looked at me strangely… and when he spoke, it was not like he spoke to Legolas…"
Aerin sighed. "It is not that he dislikes you, Ilmare. He is a king, and wants to protect his people."
Ilmare was silent for a moment before continuing in a small voice. "Protect them from me?"
Aerin's eyes widened. "No! Not like that. He is just wary, for you showed up from nowhere."
"Oh." Whispered Ilmare. "I see."
Aerin dipped her soapy hands into the tub, washing them off before grabbing the jug again and rinsing Ilmare's hair. "Just give him time. He will warm up to you, I am sure."
Ilmare nodded and let Aerin finish cleaning her hair. The elleth dried her off and gave her a sleeping gown. Aerin helped get Ilmare situated for bed, tucking some of the girl's still damp hair behind her pointed ear.
"Do not fret, Ilmare." She said. "Just sleep. I will be here in the morning to get you ready for your lessons."
"Goodnight, Aerin." Said Ilmare as the elleth left, shutting the door and leaving the girl in darkness.
Ilmare sighed and rolled on her side, wiggling her body deeper into the blankets and soon, falling into a light sleep.
…
Melian had just put Legolas to bed and was now on her way to confront her husband about Ilmare, to see if he did have something to do with her sudden discomfort.
She strode into his study, head held high, emitting power. She stopped in front of his desk and crossed her arms over her chest.
Thranduil looked up from his papers and sighed, seeing his mates' un-amused look. "Did I do something wrong?"
"I don't know," replied Melian stubbornly. "Why don't you tell me?"
The king held his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his desk. "I do not know what you are speaking of."
"Did you say something to Ilmare?" she questioned. "You saw what she was like tonight at supper."
Thranduil looked at his mate. "Was it any different from before?"
Melian sighed and rolled her eyes. "You know very well that no one is like that unless nervous."
"I only said hello to her…" The king said.
"Thranduil," said Melian dangerously.
Thranduil leaned back into his chair. "What am I supposed to do?" he exclaimed. "I do not like or trust her. What do you expect me to do?"
Melian took a deep breath before continuing in a softer voice. "My love, I am not forcing you to like her- not that she has given any reason not to- just try and be kind to her." She raised an eyebrow. "What would the people think if they saw their king treating an elfling like this?"
Thranduil sighed in defeat. "Fine. You win. I will attempt to be… civil."
Melian smirked at her victory. She knew she would win.
…
The morning came too soon for Ilmare. It felt as though she had only been asleep for a few minutes before Aerin came and woke her.
"Good morning, Ilmare." The elleth said as she opened the door.
Ilmare groaned slightly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, reaching her arms far above her head and stretching, letting out a small yawn. "Is it time already?
Aerin nodded as she opened the wardrobe. "What dress would you like to wear today?"
Ilmare couldn't care less what dress she wore, but through halfway closed eyes, she looked at a bright white one. "Uhm, that one." She said sleepily, using all her will power not to fall back onto her pillows.
Aerin pulled out Ilmare's desired dress and watched in amusement as the girl struggled to get out of bed. The elleth looked at the desk in the corner, the sheet of paper on it catching her eye. Aerin looked at the detailed flowers upon the paper with interest. She placed the dress on the back of the chair and picked up the drawing, studying it closely.
"Ilmare, did you draw this?" she held it up to the young girl, whose feet just touched the ground.
"Yes, I did." Ilmare replied, patting down her messy hair.
Aerin smirked, eyeing the sheet of paper again. "You are very talented. This is truly beautiful."
Ilmare felt blood rush to her cheeks at her praise. "Thank you very much."
Aerin put the drawing down and helped Ilmare into her dress, quickly tying up the back before taming her wild hair and working it into a tight braid down her back.
Ilmare didn't pay much attention, for she was still very tired and had to constantly shake herself to make sure she did not fall asleep where she was sitting. Eventually, she was out the door of her room and on her way to breakfast before class.
They were halfway there when the king crossed their paths, causing Ilmare to freeze in her place. Thranduil made eye contact with the girl, seeing fear in her blue eyes.
He gave a slow nod. "Good morning, Ilmare." The king said with as much warmth as he could muster for the girl, whom he was still not fond of.
Ilmare blinked a few times, her mouth in a small 'o' shape. She took a heart beat longer until she came to her senses. "Good morning, my king." She said, bowing her head.
The king held her eye a moment longer before nodding towards Aerin, who curtsied in return. They continued on their way.
"See?" said Aerin. "I told you he would warm up to you."
"I guess you are right…" said Ilmare, though she knew that this comment was slightly forced. She could hear it in his voice.
Aerin poked the tip of Ilmare's nose with her index finger. "Do not fret." She said as they arrived at the dining room. "Have a wonderful day," she said as Ilmare walked through the entrance and sat down.
Melian gave her a friendly smile as Ilmare wiggled into her seat. "Good morning, child." She said. "Are you ready for your lessons?"
Ilmare nodded as she took a few grapes into her palm and popped them into her mouth one by one. "I am excited to learn."
Melian chuckled. "Well, at least someone is," she said, giving Legolas a pointed look.
Legolas paused before taking a bite of his apple. (Green, of course). "I never said I didn't like learning." He said. "I just don't like waking up!"
Ilmare laughed with Melian at his comment, her mood getting better with every passing moment.
Ilmare ate a few more grapes and a slice of warm bread before it was time to go. She took a long draught of water from her goblet and then leapt off her seat, brushing crumbs off her skirt.
"I will walk you to your tutor," she said, placing her hands on the backs of the two elflings and ushering them out of the room and into the halls. The two kids followed in her graceful wake while she led them along.
After a few minutes of walking and Ilmare and Legolas playfully teasing each other, Melian stopped and opened the door to their class room.
Ilmare peeked at their tutor from behind Melian's skirts, feeling nervous. Their teacher was a stern looking elleth with sharp cheek bones, black hair pulled tightly into braids. She held herself high, nose pointed up to the sky.
"Hello, my queen." She said, bowing her head towards Melian. "Young prince," she said, nodding again. She paused when she saw Ilmare looking at her with wide eyes. The tutor bowed her head towards the small girl anyways, surprised to see her there. "My lady."
Ilmare gave a small smile at this, the tutor smirking back, giving a wink.
"Pay attention today, Legolas." said Melian, giving her son a pointed look. "I'm sure Ilmare will."
Legolas scoffed. "I will become much smarter than her!" he vowed.
"Are you sure about that, princeling?" said Ilmare, giggling.
Legolas crossed his arms over his chest. "I am positive, thinnas."
The tutor watched their playful banter with amusement, knowing that the next eight years were going to be very entertaining.
