The ride back to the Palace was long and tiresome for Herenya; as much as she hated to admit weakness, she felt heavy-limbed and her head pounded painfully in time with the steady plod of the pack horse. Her cousin had been ensconced in conversation with Elrohir, her melodious laughter grating on Herenya's already frayed nerves, whilst Legolas thankfully had left her to her own thoughts since he announced his infuriating decision to train her. She had been taught the basics of combat and self-defence by Daugon at her own request and her patient, calming friend willingly acquiesced and even gifted her the beautiful dagger she'd used on the spider. Legolas, she knew from word of mouth, and her brief glimpse of him in amongst the darkness and chaos of the night before was a fierce warrior, probably the best archer in all of elf-kind and the opportunity to have him continue her training would have been incredibly tempting, if the Prince were of less questionable morals. Herenya was unsure of exactly what she had done to displease the Valar so much as to be marked as the latest target for Legolas's licentious, degrading behaviour and her current situation tarnished what would have undoubtedly been a very valuable learning experience. Indeed, Herenya felt pressured and unsettled at the idea of being trapped in a small training room with him and even more uncomfortable at apparently not having any choice in the matter. She had no grounds for refusing his demand which both infuriated and terrified her as she thought of the unequal distribution of power. She shook her head to try and clear images of a simultaneously intimidating and (as much as she loathed to even think it) alluring Legolas brandishing his long knife, and in doing so managed to unsettle her frail equilibrium. Frightened but unable to stop her trajectory, she felt herself plunging from the horse's back towards the fast-advancing forest floor, voices calling out in frightened alarm before everything went mercifully black.


When Herenya next awoke, she found herself in an unfamiliar bed with bright light streaming in through an open window, the fresh air carrying that distinctive smell of roaring fires, wine and the forest meaning that she was back in Mirkwood at least. She squinted against the daylight which set off that persistent pounding yet again. She dragged herself gingerly up to a seated position and winced at a shooting pain in her right forearm arm. Raising her hands to her face she was alarmed to see how bloody and broken the skin was across her palms and knuckles which brought back the memory of her sudden fall from the horse; she had clearly damaged her hands trying to protect herself from further harm. She looked around her and discerned that she was in the Palace Infirmary which was deserted aside from a handful of gossiping female healers, one of whom broke away from the group upon realising their sole patient was awake.

'How do you fare Herenya?' The healer, an elleth known as Tindómë, with whom Herenya had not exchanged more than a brief greeting, asked kindly, reaching out to adjust the pillows behind Herenya's head.

'My head is quite painful,' the answer came out as a rasping whisper. 'How long have I been asleep?'

'For two days and nights.' Herenya gasped in shock at the length of time and Tindómë soothingly began to wipe Herenya's forehead with a cool cloth.

'Worry not, you have been in an induced slumber to help you heal. The peredhil and the Lord Aragorn placed it upon you at Prince Legolas's insistence. In fact, I was instructed to inform his highness the moment you woke, I must excuse myself.' She discarded the cloth and handed Herenya a glass of refreshing water to ease the ache in her throat before taking her leave to find the Prince. Herenya sipped at the water gratefully, it had an acute herbal taste to it which she deduced was medicinal and indeed, her headache was becoming more bearable with each gulp. After what seemed like an incredibly short amount of time, there came the sound of heavy male boots from the corridors outside of the infirmary, sending the gaggle of healers into a frenzy of adjusting their robes and smoothing their hair into place staring expectantly at the doorway. When Nesseldë entered, Herenya almost laughed at the dejected slump of the healers' shoulders before they sprung back up like hopeful marionette puppets as Legolas and Elrohir appeared shortly behind her. Nesseldë hitched up her skirts and ran towards Herenya's bedside in a rather undignified manner, her face a picture of relief.

'Dear one, I am so relieved to see you awake!' The blue-eyed elleth exclaimed, reaching for Herenya's hand and pitching herself onto the bed. 'You gave us all such a fright.'

'Apologies for any inconvenience caused,' Herenya replied wryly, her voice slightly smoother. By this point, Legolas and Elrohir at arrived at her bedside, standing a respectable distance from the bed. Legolas was intently probing her face and she refrained from meeting his gaze, concentrating instead on her cousin. She couldn't help the warmth creeping over her cheeks, wishing that she wasn't in such a vulnerable, weak position in front of him.

'You have some injuries to your upper body,' Tindómë's gentle voice interjected, she had reappeared unobtrusively and was now running her hands over Herenya's sore arm. 'You have noticed the damage to your hands and you also have a sprain from preventing your fall, however the area of most concern is your head injury. The initial injury from the confrontation in the woods worsened from the impact of the fall, hence the induced sleep.' She turned her attention to the gentry who were listening intently. 'I recommend that Herenya remain here for further observation if that indeed fits with your diagnosis my lords.'

Elrohir stepped forward and placed his hand gently across Herenya's forehead and closed his eyes in deep concentration. Eventually he opened his eyes and winked as he met her nervous gaze.

'A few more days of rest will do it. Your beautiful cousin is right my dear, you did give us all quite a scare, even Legolas here!' Legolas remained silent and Elrohir continued unawares. 'I swear by the Valar I don't think I've ever seen Estel move his human arse so quickly, he almost caught you and then has flagellated himself constantly for the past two days for the near miss, it's been quite insufferable.'

'Come mellon,' intoned Legolas quietly. 'We should leave Herenya to her rest.'

Elrohir nodded in agreement. 'You are right Legolas, I must inform Aragorn all is well else he'll continue wallowing in guilt, Herenya, I bid you good day, Nesseldë I will look for you at supper,' he spun smartly on his heel and, with a teasing smouldering glance at the practically panting healers, took his leave. Legolas finally approached and bent over Herenya, the soft silken standards of his braids tickling her cheek, his breath warm and smelling faintly of berries. She held herself incredibly still, fighting the involuntary urge to squirm as he whispered in her ear.

'Do not think I have forgotten about our training sessions my little she-warg.'

'She-warg?' She asked, unable to keep the indignant tone out of her voice, as he straightened up and turned away from her.

'Something I'm trying out,' he flung over his shoulder carelessly, a wolfish grin on his handsome face which sent the healers into another flutter of female flirtatious activity as he followed the dark-haired twin out of the infirmary.

'He is utterly insufferable,' Herenya murmured her eyes fixated on where Legolas had previously been. 'I am in a sickbed and still he torments me with some ridiculous endearment,' she refocused her attention on her quiet cousin who still held her hand. 'Why were you with them anyway?'

'I am covering for you in attending to the Prince, Aurealia's decision, so I was in his highness's chambers with him and Elrohir when we were told the joyous news you were awake.'

'Elrohir?' Enquired Herenya in a moment of selfless interest. 'It is not like you to be so informal, you are usually far too timid.' Nesseldë blushed and cast her eyes down bashfully.

'It is nothing, Lord Elrohir is not like other lords, he is incredibly relaxed.' She risked a glance up at Herenya's face and thankfully her self-absorbed cousin's attention was back on her injured hands.

'Nothing good has befallen me since I met him. Mayhap cuz, if you've been allocated the Prince's pompous person I'll be released from my torment,' she smiled broadly at the thought. 'What else have I missed whilst unconscious?'

Nesseldë hesitated for a millisecond before shrugging nonchalantly.

'Nothing much.' That's near enough the truth, Nesseldë argued with herself internally, dispelling the discomfort that came from not being totally honest with her cousin. However, what quantified as 'much?'


2 days and 2 nights ago

Aragorn was quite beside himself at having missed breaking Herenya's fall and, partially to calm him and partially because he was rightly concerned with his servant, Legolas agreed to leave Nesseldë with the twin sons of Elrond, as well as all their supplies, and with the unconscious Herenya cradled tightly to his body the two friends took off at a hard gallop back to the Palace with as much haste as they could muster. Nesseldë cried quietly at the shock of the past few moments, and allowed the twins to gently steer her onwards at a less frantic pace back towards her home. Sometime later as they entered through the main gates they were met by an anxiously-pacing Daugon, who made a customary bow to both of the lords before moving to help Nesseldë down from the saddle.

'His Highness and Lord Aragorn flew through here some time ago,' he blurted out urgently, swinging her down to the ground. 'They have taken Herenya to the Houses of Healing. What happened? She looked close to death!'

'Do not despair too soon,' interjected Elladan as he also dismounted. 'Our brother Lord Aragorn is a most proficient healer and indeed I am also on my way to see our unruly patient. Our father is the finest healer in all of Arda and we have studied under him for some time.'

'Go back to your post Daugon, there is nothing you can do, we'll see you're kept updated,' advised Elrohir, appearing at Nesseldë's side and placing an arm about her waist and drawing her away from the now slightly calmer soldier into a far too familiar embrace. Daugon nodded, slightly dazed, frowning in confusion at the closeness between the Son of Elrond and Herenya's cousin, before bowing again as the three elves swept past him and into the entrance halls. Elladan took off briskly towards the infirmary whilst Elrohir swept Nesseldë in the opposite direction towards Aurealia's office, keeping his firm hold about her, rubbing his thumb in what was supposed to be a soothing circular motion on her lower back. However, as they passed a few servants Nesseldë knew, she could not help but notice their eyes widening at the contact between a servant and a Lord, and the hushed whispers of gossip that followed in their wake. The touches now started to illicit an unwelcome heat which was spreading across her entire body, having never been held so familiarly by a male before. She strained away from him slightly as they walked but Elrohir tightened his hold, trapping her against his much firmer form.

'My Lord Elrohir, I am not going to faint, please release me,' she muttered quietly. Elrohir tutted in amusement.

'Nesseldë in the drama of the day have you forgotten our grand plans?' At his words, Nesseldë was granted with a bout of realisation.

'Oh.'

'Oh?'

'Yes, I had forgotten, my Lord.' She risked a glance up at his profile, a strong jaw, plump lips, a slightly upturned nose, twinkling blue eyes alight with mirth, dark smooth hair cascading down his slim yet muscled back, and his touch became instantly more appealing.

'Do not fret about the stir we are causing my dear,' Elrohir said quite jovially as one of Thrandruil's advisor's shot them an odd look before hurrying on his way. 'This is going exceedingly well so far.'

'I do not want people to think badly of me,' Nesseldë replied. 'I do not want to appear to be an elleth of questionable morals.'

'Hardly!' Laughed the twin. 'There is nothing that can be said about you other than you appeared quite at home in the embrace of my esteemed person,' Nesseldë found herself smiling at that comment and encouraged to see her relaxing, Elrohir continued. 'However, this simple act of closeness is more than enough to set tongues aflame and hopefully the happy news will reach our stable manager post-haste.'

'Hush!' She gripped his arm tightly in her panic and he patted her smaller hand reassuringly.

'Oh, my sweet Nesseldë, so inexperienced at games of the heart! Now, as for other more pressing matters,' he released her to rap his knuckles smartly on Aurealia's heavy oak door before holding it open and gesturing for the flustered blonde elleth to enter before him. Nesseldë took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold. Aurealia was seated at her desk and looked up warmly at her visitors, standing in deference to Lord Elrohir.

'My Lord Elrohir, Nesseldë, I did not expect to see you back in the Palace so soon, I trust you had a successful outing?' her smile faded as she took in their sombre expressions. 'What of Herenya? What trouble has that elleth got herself into now?'

'I must, surprisingly, defend our dear Herenya Madame,' Elrohir said smoothly. 'We were attacked by spiders last night and Herenya sustained a head injury. She then took a rather nasty fall from her horse this morning and has been raced to the Houses of Healing by his highness and Lord Aragorn. My twin is with her now and indeed we will join them shortly.'

'We wanted to inform you as soon as possible,' Nesseldë added. Aurealia, tight-lipped nodded briskly.

'Very well, I pray for her speedy recovery. Nesseldë, please will you report back here once you've checked on your cousin to tell me how she is?'

'Of course,' Nesseldë dropped into a courtesy before allowing Elrohir to sweep her back out of the office. This time she did not waver when he clasped her hand with his, and intertwined their fingers. Indeed, she willingly let him tug her along at a speedy jog to the infirmary, now quite enjoying the scandalised looks she was receiving. It was pleasant to be noticed for a change.

By the time, they arrived at the Houses of Healing, Herenya had been put into an induced slumber at the instruction of Elladan to maintain her unconsciousness and to help her body heal. Elrohir agreed with his twin that this was the best course of action. Aragorn decided to take himself back to his chambers, he was disproportionately upset at his own perceived fault in Herenya's injuries and wanted some privacy. Elladan rolled his eyes and followed, slinging an arm about the human's shoulders and lightly teasing as was his way.

'I should really go and speak with my father,' Legolas said, reluctantly tearing himself away from his seat at Herenya's bedside where he had been watching the peaceful rise and fall of her chest. 'You there!' He called one of the healers, Tindómë. 'Ensure you find me the moment she wakes.' Tindómë dropped into a graceful courtesy.

'Of course, my Prince.'

Legolas inclined his head towards Nesseldë, who had taken his seat at her cousin's side and Elrohir who stood protectively behind her.

'Elrohir I will see you later, Nesseldë, do not fret, she will be up and antagonising us again soon.'

'Thank you, your highness,' Nesseldë replied, uncaring for once for propriety and refusing to leave Herenya to properly bid the Prince good day, although as was her nature still feeling guilty as she watched him depart for having not curtsied.

'She's quite charming whilst asleep isn't she,' remarked Elrohir, observing Herenya. 'Less warg-like.'

'Why do I get the impression that this is not a favourable comparison?'

'You would be quite right my dear, wargs are rather terrifying wild beasts, they look like wolves, only uglier,' he caught her disapproving glare. 'Oh, come now of course she is not as ugly as a warg, rather she has certain characteristics….' He trailed off, deciding this line of jest was not worth pursuing. 'We should really leave too, I am in desperate need of a wash and there is nothing more we can do for her.' Nesseldë acquiesced and with a kiss pressed gently to her cousin's forehead she followed the lord out of the room. He turned suddenly, causing her to bump into his chest.

'Give me your ribbon,' his eyes gleamed at this new idea.

'My Lord?'

'Your ribbon, from your hair, let it down and give me the ribbon as a token.'

'That is highly improper,' her protest was weakened by his widening smirk.

'Exactly! Come now, I said I'd lead the merry dance, but you must follow my lead dear heart.'

'Very well,' Nesseldë slowly untied the light blue ribbon from where it bound her hair and pulled it out, allowing her mane of golden curls to tumble over her shoulders. Unnoticed by this thankfully innocent elleth, Elrohir let out an almost inaudible groan of desire at the sight of those golden locks set free; she looked deliciously rumpled with her hair down and her gown creased from him pressing her against him earlier. Nesseldë meekly handed him the ribbon which he gallantly kissed before dropping her a courtly bow and tucking the ribbon visibly into the pocket of his tunic.

'I shall see you soon my love,' he used the same seductive tone as he had in the forest and this time Nesseldë felt comfortable enough to roll her eyes at him before bidding him goodbye and setting off back the way she came towards Aurealia's office, not fully aware of the gossip that was at that moment spreading like wildfire around the Palace of Mirkwood, that Lord Elrohir and meek, gentle Nesseldë were seen in a rather comfortable embrace and that Elrohir is proudly wearing said elleths' favour in his tunic….

The next day, Nesseldë found herself dealing with Legolas's washing from the trip, having been handed Herenya's duties by Aurealia. Despite her sympathy concerning Herenya's unforeseen injuries, she couldn't help but appear vexed at the constant trouble Herenya wrought in her wake, whether intentional or not. Nesseldë had kept her peace but couldn't help but agree with Aurealia and indeed, berated herself for enjoying the peace and quiet that resulted from her cousin's unconsciousness. Nesseldë had not seen the Prince or any of the Lords and the normality of her daily chores was comforting and the day passed without significant incident, unless one counted the unsubtle stares and nudges she witnessed amongst her fellow elves. That evening in the Great Hall for dinner, she brazenly squared her shoulders and ignored the gossiping, joining a table with some of her friends. Out of the corner of her eye she spied Nithron briskly picking up some bread and cheese to be taken away and as he cast his glance absentmindedly around the hall she gave a small wave and her heart surged with pleasure as he smiled warmly and approached her.

'Greetings Nesseldë,' he said as he plonked himself down on the bench next to her. 'How are you? I heard our troublesome one has managed to knock herself unconscious.'

'Ai yes you have heard true. I am well and I have Herenya to thank for that, she sustained her injuries protecting me from some disgusting spiders which stumbled upon us in the woods.' Nithron's kind face was concerned.

'I am glad to find you unharmed, I did not think such a trip would be so eventful.'

'Neither did I,' she readily agreed, her eyes on the bundle of provisions in his lap. 'You are not dining here?'

'One of my darlings is about to drop a foal any moment, I plan to stay with her throughout the night,' he was giddy with excitement and she was awash with the memory of the last time he had slept in the stables to welcome in a new birth.

It had been several years ago, and she was quite sure it was this moment which cemented her love for this oblivious, compassionate elf. She had arrived early, whilst the sun was still hiding behind the morning clouds carrying with her a basket of pastries, and peaking over the stable door, she found Nithron bleary-eyed, straw sticking up adorably in his sleep-tousled hair, wrapped in the horse's blanket.

'Nesseldë, quiet!' He had croaked, gesturing towards the mare. 'Look!' In utter wonder Nesseldë watched the new foal being licked clean by its doting mother, urged onto its unsteady, spindly legs. Once, twice, three times it fell before finally finding its footing, staging about the small enclosure. The mare neighed in approval, nestling into her new born child. Nesseldë opened the stable door silently and had joined Nithron in the warm, musky straw, allowing him to wrap the horse's blanket about her shoulders as well as his own to stave off the chill of the morning. She had handed him a pastry and they sat in comfortable silence enjoying the miracle of life so humbly presented to them. She had never felt quite so at peace in her long existence, so content, and she knew in that moment with perfect clarity if only she could spend eternity by Nithron's side, she would be blessed with this feeling forever.

'I imagine the foal will be a beauty if its lineage is anything to go by,' Nithron continued, completely unaware of the elleth's distraction. 'Anyway, I must go, nature is calling! I wish you a pleasant evening.' Before she had fully come back to the present moment, he was gone from her side and she felt a surge of bitter disappointment. This was, however, quickly dispersed by the appearance as if by magic of Lord Elrohir, occupying Nithron's vacant seat. The Lord stretched out his long legs and tipped back his head, a picture of relaxation, surveying her from beneath his impossibly long lashes.

'How are you dear heart?' She smiled shyly, the chatter of her group of friends had abruptly ceased as they watched the interaction in utter amazement. No one had paid any heed to Nithron, deemed inconsequential despite his prestigious societal position; no elleth aside from Nesseldë found him particularly remarkable as he was neither loud, boisterous, flirtatious or a legendary warrior. The Sons of Elrond, however, were another case entirely.

'I am well my Lord, and yourself?'

'Ai I am most pained beautiful Nesseldë,' he looked at her forlornly, moving quickly so that he straddled the bench and was leaning towards her, staring deep into her eyes, urging her silently to play along. She let out what she was sure was an incredibly affected gasp of sympathy.

'I am pained to hear this My Lord, what may I ask is the cause of your distress?'

'I've been parted from your side for too long,' he clutched at his heart, his voice low enough to appear as if he didn't wish to be overheard but loud enough that the rest of the table could hear every courtly word. 'I beg you mistress of my heart, please grant me the honour of a walk in the gardens.'

'My Lord, you are too bold,' she breathed, dropping her eyes modestly, inwardly giggling inanely at this ridiculous play-acting.

'Mayhap I am, but I do not care. You have bewitched me, I simply cannot be without your smiles for another moment,' he continued, standing abruptly. 'Meet me outside in five minutes,' he whispered before straightening and saying more loudly and generally. 'Goodnight mistress Nesseldë, thank you for updating me on the condition of your cousin.' She stood and curtsied appropriately.

'Goodnight Lord Elrohir.' She sank gracefully back onto her bench and studiously ignored the pointed stares from her friends, waiting the allotted time before wishing them well and leaving the hall in a flurry of gossip. Indeed, Elrohir was waiting for her along with his twin Elladan, who had been brought in on their matchmaking schemes, and the three of them had quite the pleasant evening conversing and laughing under the stars. The great rouse of seduction continued smoothly into the next day, with the added addition of Elrohir relentlessly teasing her as she valiantly tried to clean Legolas's chambers around the two of them, before an out of breath Tindómë appeared to tell them that Herenya was awake and seemed perfectly lucid. Unbeknownst to the party as they rushed to Herenya's bedside, the newest member of Thrandruil's Royal Stables drew its first breath and Nithron gazed out over the vast fields leading to the Palace and felt strangely saddened at the absence of a certain blonde elleth walking towards him with a basket in hand.


Present Day

'Indeed, nothing much,' reaffirmed Nesseldë, taken aback by how casual she sounded; lying was becoming easier it seemed. 'Although I must say cuz, his highness Prince Legolas was indeed most concerned for your welfare. I do not think he is entirely the brute you suppose.' Herenya's eyes were sharp despite the deadened pain.

'Your point? He was worried he'd managed to kill me during his ridiculous excursion, that doesn't make him a good elf or make me any more likely to jump into bed with him.'

'Of course not,' her cousin bristled, prudishly affronted at the idea. 'I would not dream of encouraging such wanton behaviour, I am merely suggesting that you may have judged his character too soon and that it would benefit you to become less, let's say, spirited, around your master?'

'He is not my master,' grumbled Herenya. 'Whatever his title.'


Herenya was bedridden for nearly two weeks for observation as an over-zealous precaution demanded by Legolas, and despite her initial protests, it was clearly needed; she slept soundly and ate heartily, managing to regain her strength. She received visits from a dutiful Daugon daily, bringing her little tokens filched from the kitchen. He praised her courage against the spider, admired her looks claiming that convalescence agreed with her and was resolutely stoic when she told him that Legolas wanted to train her in combat, not offering his opinion either way. Nesseldë also visited regularly, with a constant mysterious smile gracing her fair features that Herenya for the life of her couldn't discern the cause of. Nithron did not find the time to visit in person but sent her a beautiful wooden carving of the newly born foal – he had named him Voronwer (loyal one) as the foal had stayed unfailingly by the stable manager's side throughout his first weeks of life. Legolas was thankfully absence, although he did send her an intricately-bound book from his private library; a translated history of the Kingdom of Rohan. It was accompanied by a note stating that he looked forward to hearing her views on the topic whence she returned it to him. Despite her indignance that he had quite clearly sniffed out her interests from Lord Aragorn, she couldn't help but delve immediately into the book's well-worn pages and the tales within. It was, she begrudgingly admitted to Nesseldë when pressed, a perfect gift. Eventually it came time one evening for her to leave the Houses of Healing return to her duties and she reluctantly packed the book amongst her other possessions, knowing the time would soon come to return it to its smug owner. She dragged her feet on the arduous walk back to her accommodation, taking her time to adjust to being outside of the infirmary. Upon entering her bedroom, she unpacked and in a moment of rebelliousness slipped the gifted book underneath her bed. There, she thought triumphantly, I think I'll keep it for just a little while longer. The door to the shared room opened and she jumped guiltily, relaxing when she saw that it was a highly excitable Nesseldë retiring for the night.

'Oh Herenya, you missed the best news at dinner!' She exclaimed, jumping onto her bed like a hyperactive elfling. Herenya was intrigued.

'Do tell!'

'His Majesty the King announced that there is to be a festival and ball to mark the end of the summer and to honour Lord Aragorn and the Peredhil's departure! There will be an archery contest, performers, market stalls, food and dancing! Oh, so much dancing!'

'Not to disappoint you, but why is a day out for the nobility of any excitement for the likes of us?' Herenya asked bitterly jealous. Nesseldë wrapped her arms around herself in delight.

'It is to be a national day of holiday for all the peoples of Mirkwood, we are all invited! What a day it will be!' Herenya found herself smiling at that, her envy rapidly diminishing.

'Well then I agree that does sound like quite the event.'

'I almost forgot,' the other elleth cut in, reaching into her apron pocket and pulling out a piece of parchment. 'The Prince asked me to give you this note.' Herenya eyed the parchment suspiciously and gingerly took it between a finger and thumb as if it were something rather unpleasant. Nesseldë rolled her eyes. 'Oh by the Valar girl just read it!'

Herenya unravelled the parchment to see the Prince's elegant handwriting inside and read his note aloud.

My little she-warg,

I trust you are fully recovered from your extended stay in the Houses of Healing and have taken the opportunity to regain your strength. Trust me, you will need it. Meet me in the rose garden at 3pm tomorrow. As my servant I expect you on time, dressed in appropriate attire for hand-to-hand combat and with a smile on that impertinent face of yours. This is not a request.

Legolas Greenleaf, Crown Prince of Mirkwood (Your Master)

Herenya gulped at the implications of the note, before rereading the final sign-off and, as Legolas had known perfectly well, a volcanic rage erupted within her at the use of the word 'Master.'

'I will show him!' She seethed, stalking the room like a wild animal. 'How dare he! That pompous, arrogant, insufferable cad! He wishes to provoke me, we'll see how he likes being punched in that treasured face of his! Or even better I'll kick him where it hurts, right in his precious male pride!' Nesseldë found herself cowering against the tidal wave of abuse coming out of Herenya's mouth, more suited to a drunken fishwife than a servant to the Prince. Indeed, she mused, blocking out the obscenities, I hope our Prince knows what he has let himself in for.