Chapter Two of the re-write is here! Next week I should be caught up to where the story originally started, so I'll put like, three chapters up next week and we'll be back up to speed! Whoo! Apologies for not having had the story figured out all the way when I posted - Shit Tyrone, get it together! Haha. So, yeah. Hopefully you all enjoy and please please leave reviews - they're so helpful and I love them!


Thranduil's Son

Dúlinneth eyed the company of elves as they rode into the city. Elrond stood front and center in the welcoming party, Arwen to his left and Elladan to his right. At Elladan's right was Elrohir, and Dúlinneth stood to Elrohir's right hand. As the Mirkwood elves came to a halt before them, Elrond stepped forward. "Welcome, Legolas, son of Thranduil. It is our honor to welcome you to Imladris."

The golden-haired elf at the head of the colonnade slid gracefully to the ground and stepped forward. "Lord Elrond. We are most grateful for your hospitality." He inclined his head in a gesture of respect.

Elrond returned the gesture. "My sons, Elladan and Elrohir, and my daughter, Arwen Undómiel." His children bowed their heads as he named them, and then Elrond motioned to Dúlinneth. "And may I present Dúlinneth Berethiel, daughter of Braigon Silver-Eyes and Ereinien Ñaltanárië."

Dúlinneth stepped forward and bowed stiffly. "The hospitality of Imladris is yours, Prince Legolas. I hope your journey was not overly arduous."

Thranduil's son offered her a courteous bow. "Indeed not, My Lady. You are most gracious."

"Not at all. We are pleased to welcome you." Dúlinneth stepped back, but the prince had more to say.

"My father sends his greetings and wishes for your good fortune. He asks me to present this gift to Lady Dúlinneth, as a token of his favor, and mine." He produced a small silver box and handed it to Dúlinneth.

She pulled the lid open and was unable to suppress a gasp of admiration when she beheld the jewel glimmering within it. The rest of the elves gathered in the courtyard watched her expectantly, and she bowed her head and murmured, "You are too kind, My Lord. Please pass my most heartfelt thanks to King Thranduil."

"Surely you may thank him yourself, when we reach Mirkwood," the prince nodded. "He has heard many tales of your beauty, and sought to present you with a gift that could rival it."

Dúlinneth closed the box carefully, "When we meet, your father shall know that he has presented me with a gift that far surpasses my own beauty. I am most grateful for this generous gift, My Lord." She stepped back into line beside Elrohir.

At this, the Lord of Rivendell spoke again. "You must be weary from your journey. We have a meal ready for you, if you will follow me."

The other Mirkwood elves dismounted from their horses and handed the reigns over to the Rivendell elves who stepped forward to take them. Arwen took her father's arm and Legolas offered his to Dúlinneth, and they made their way into the city. Legolas spoke first. "Long have I heard tell of the silver eyes of your father, and now it is clear to me that you have inherited them from him. I was not fully convinced of the truth of these tales, I confess, but now that I have seen the truth in your own eyes, I will readily admit my error."

Dúlinneth blinked at him. "Surely my father's eyes are not all you have heard of me, else you would not be here now, Prince."

Legolas looked down at her, startled. "I have heard much of you, My Lady, but I confess, nothing of your abruptness."

Dúlinneth's cheeks flushed an angry red. "It is one of my many flaws, Prince of Mirkwood. Perhaps you ought to accustom yourself to it. I see little use in these games of words and manners, especially not with one whom I shall be forced to spend my life with."

The prince raised his eyebrows. "So it would seem." Both fell silent.

They were separated when they reached the great hall in which the feast was waiting, and did not find themselves in each other's company again until Lord Elrond rose at the end of the meal to pronounce a blessing on those present and retire for the evening. Dúlinneth rose to leave as well, but Prince Legolas followed her out. "Lady Dúlinneth!"

She turned to face him. "Prince Legolas?"

He came to a halt when he was within arm's reach. "I... I have heard much of the wonders of the great city of Imladris. I wonder if you might show me some of its beauties."

She hesitated, but inclined her head. "Of course. Follow me." She led him into the heart of the city, into a cool, dark chamber with frescoed paintings lining the walls. Elves, men, and orcs, armored and in battle. A Dark Lord, rising above them all. A King of men, stepping forward to face him. The Dark Lord meeting him, head on. The King, falling to the ground, his sword shattered, the Dark Lord poised to kill. The King, raising the remnant of his sword. The Dark Lord's hand struck from his body, a golden ring glinting on one finger.

They came to a halt in the center of the chamber, at a statue of a woman bent over the broken shards of a sword. The Prince stepped forward, eyes fixed on the broken fragments of blade. "The Shards of Narsil."

"The greatest moment in the history of men," Dúlinneth mused, "Immortalized here, in a city of elves."

"The greatest moment in man's history, perhaps, but one which led to man's weakest moment, and the downfall of the house of Isildur," Legolas stepped away from the sword. "Come, show me something else."

Dúlinneth nodded, biting back a scowl. "This way."

They made their way back into the city, through winding corridors and then onto a small stone pathway that signaled the beginning of a large garden. Flowers grew wild on the ground, and every bush seemed to drip with blossoms of some sort or another. A little stream wound its way through the center of the garden, and the pathway turned into a bridge to the other side of the stream. The very air in that place seemed to glow with the light of the moon and stars, and in it, the Prince's hair gleamed silver.

He gazed around, wonderingly, then his eyes came to rest on Dúlinneth. "I speak sincerely when I say this is the most beautiful place that ever I have beheld, Lady Dúlinneth." He paused, then added almost as an afterthought, "And you are the most fair."

Dúlinneth shook her head. "There is no need for you to ply me with flattery, Prince. I have no use for it."

He studied her intently. "No, I see that you do not. In truth, flattery is not a gift of mine."

"Then do not waste your effort. Our union will occur regardless of what either of us thinks of the other, I am told," Dúlinneth moved a few steps away and knelt down beside the stream, reaching out and dipping her fingers into the water.

"So it will," he agreed.

She stood, giving her hand a gentle shake to remove the excess water droplets. "Tell me, how did your father inform you of this match he had made for you?" She watched him carefully as she spoke, the moonlight creating a halo around the darkness of her head and causing her eyes to shine, brighter than silver, brighter than mithril, perhaps even brighter than the stars.

"He simply told me that he wished me to have a wife, and as I seemed unlikely to find one myself, he had taken it upon himself to arrange a suitable match for me. He told me I was to ride for Imladris in a fortnight and meet my bride there to bring her back to Mirkwood for our betrothal feast."

Dúlinneth stared at him. "That is all?" He nodded, and she asked, "And what was your reply?"

"Only that I would be proud to do my duty to the realm and to my king."

She narrowed her eyes. "You asked no questions? Made no argument?"

He shook his head. "It is not my place to question my king."

She stared at him for a brief moment, perplexed. "What kind of king can you hope to be, My Lord, if you will not even claim the right to make decisions for your own life? How can you benefit your people if you simply accept fate as it comes to you, unquestioning and docile?"

His eyes bored into hers. "How can you ever have contentment in your life, My Lady, if you cannot accept what the future brings you and learn to find the joy in whatever your fate may be?" He looked away as he continued, "When I am King, I will no longer answer to my father, and it will be my place to ask questions and make decisions. When I am King, I will do so."

"But not before?" Her eyes flashed dangerously, defiance permeating her gaze. "It seems weak, Prince of Mirkwood, to so meekly accept the choices of others for your life, regardless of your place."

He stiffened, but did not make any retort. Instead, he gave her a stiff bow and a chilly, "Forgive me, My Lady. I am weary from my journey. I think I will retire for the evening. Thank you for your hospitality," and retreated, following the path out of the garden and back into the city.


Ok I just need a sec to rant. Indulge me. But I was re-watching the special features from the extended edition of ROTK, and I hadn't picked up on this before, but guys, there are freaking Legolas and Gimli endings that didn't even make it into the extended cut. WHY?! I mean, I know what happens to them in the appendices of the books, but I sat through all those damn endings in the film and only got a miniscule amount of Orlando Bloom, and the fact that they wrote and filmed more and I don't get to see it is just... unacceptable. Also, I just want to see how they did it. That's all. I could be satisfied with reading the script, even. I'ma need to have a chat with Peter Jackson someday. Does he work like a magic genie? If I ask him to see those scenes will he grant them to me? We wants it, Preciousssss, yes we doessss... *gross sobbing* Master tricksed us! *more gross sobbing*

So anyways. Sorry about that. Just had to rant. Hope you enjoy the story and leave reviews, please!