"They wanted to speak, but could not; tears stood in their eyes.
They were both pale and thin; but those sick pale faces were bright with the dawn of a new future, of a full resurrection into a new life.
They were renewed by love; the heart of each held infinite sources of life for the heart of the other."

[Fyodor Dostoyevsky]

Katya spent the next few months wandering the halls of the Woodland realm, slowly regaining the person she'd been before her father's death. Bercalion and his guards had located her father's body and the Lord of the Woodland Realm had allowed his burial just outside of their walls. Katya recalled the day in late fall that she wandered out to his grave, breathing in the crisp air, she sat down in front of his resting place. The elven dress she wore rustled softly around her legs, light as air, but around her torso she had wrapped her father's tanned dear-hide coat. It was heavy but sturdily made and it still smelled of his musky earthy scent.

"Papa," she murmured, "I think I'll be alright. I know you must be worried about me, but there are people here who care about me. I think I'm safe. I miss you every day."

Katya wiped a tear away, smiling bravely at the waxy green leaves that were growing around the stone marking her father's grave. The stone was carved in elvish script that she could not read, but the appearance of it was beautiful and made her smile. It felt good to know that her father had been loved by the people of this realm and that his death would be mourned. He had not been a man of prominence or popularity in Lake-town, keeping mostly to himself.

Laying back in the grass, Katya looked up at the sunlight streaming through the trees, though much of the forest was affected by a sickness, this part of it was still the way it had been spoken of long ago when it was known as Greenwood the Great. It was truly beautiful she thought as she ran her toes through the long grass and lifted a scarlet leaf up to the sunlight. She could see its veins silhouetted against the sun and could feel the life rippling through the forest and for some reason found her eyes wet with tears once again.

Sitting up at the sound of a rustle she peered into the edge of the clearing, her breath catching in her throat as a white stag walked silently into the meadow. It froze as it heard her move, staring at her with piercing gold eyes, one hoof lifted gracefully in the air. Katya breathed out in admiration, the stag was like a creature from another world; she had never seen one like it before.

"They are sacred to our people."

Katya jumped suddenly, the stag taking off into the woods. She stared in awe at the elf-man who walked silently along the side of the meadow, raising a jeweled hand to touch the brilliant leaves with reverence. The breeze rustled his nearly white hair around his ageless face, and his icy blue-grey eyes stared at her, piercing into her soul. Katya's breath caught in her throat, he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and when she looked at him it was like looking at the face of eternity. A crown of red leaves and berries graced his ageless head, long flowing robes of muted gold fell to the ground where it blended into the golden leaves that littered the meadow.

"You are fortunate to have seen one," the king continued, his hand falling from the leaves to his side, "They have grown lesser as the years have passed. My woods are ill."

Thranduil continued slowly walking around the meadow, observing the human child that had found hospitality within his realm. His eyes fell to the grave of her father, holly berries already beginning to grow up around the gravestone. His forest responded to the hearts of those buried here, this had been a good man, a generous, kind man.

"Thank you for the condolences you offered me upon the passing of my father, my lord, and for the generosity you have shown me." Katya choked out, unable to take her eyes off of the Elven king. Thranduil paused, his eyes piercing hers.

"I did not think you would recall meeting me that night."

"In truth my lord, I did not remember it until I heard your voice just now. I'm sorry for my rudeness." Thranduil waved his hand dismissively at her words. He was surprised at how educated this girl sounded, he had assumed the inhabitants of Lake-town to be sadly decayed heirs of the citizens of Dale.

"I did not expect you to have recollected anything from that night. I am not offended."

"Thank you, you are most gracious." Katya bowed her head, finally able to peal her eyes from the king's face. She did not look up again until she felt his fingertips beneath her chin, drawing her gaze back to his. She could feel the cool metal of his rings against the soft flesh beneath her chin, and it made goose-bumps break out across her skin. He looked into her eyes and her breath caught in her throat, his gaze was like a god observing a mortal.

"Gi nathlam hí, you are welcome to visit your father's grave, whenever you desire it. I give you freedom of my realm child." While his face did not change from its regal visage, something in the way his eyes softened warmed his words. Katya could see the echo of loss in his eyes and found comfort in them.

"Katya," she murmured breathlessly, without thinking, staring into his striking eyes, and he raised a regal eyebrow at her uncomprehendingly. "My name, my name is Katya."

"Katya," he repeated, tilting his head thoughtfully. "What does that name mean in your tongue?"

"Pure," she answered immediately.

"Like a clear mountain spring," he mused, casting his eyes to the distance, as though picturing the one he had in mind. "My guards have named you Laesneniel. It means water child."

Katya blushed at that, remembering her dripping wet appearance when Bercalion had first met her. Thranduil dropped his hand from her chin, brushing away a blade of grass which had snagged in her wild tangles before moving away from her into the woods. She could only watch him admiringly as he disappeared from view. She knew that he was a ruler that she would be willing to serve the rest of her life. That must have been the time Katya had begun thinking of Thranduil as her king.

"Na lû e-govaned vîn." He said as he finally vanished into the woods, neither stopping nor turning to look at her again.