I really need to watch this Every After movie! It bugs me to think that, quite unknowingly, my writing is so similar to something that is out there. Although, being the classic Cinderella story, after all, you can make only so many changes to it. It will remain the fairy tale we all know...

Or will it?

Anyway..I know, I know! It is so fluffy, and cheesy and overdone and all that. But...that is precisely why I chose to write a romance. No angst. No action. No darkness. It IS a fairy tale. At least, I keep repeating myself that, for sometimes even I feel like I have overdone the romance in this story. And at other times I just remind myself that it is entertainment, period.

Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. As always, it feels incredible to know that against all odds, there are those who enjoy my story. We share a common bond that I find simply...amazing.

As to the chapters..PAY NO HEED TO THE NUMBER. Fanfiction.net insists that I have an extra chapter and I can not locate it myself. I might have to remove the whole story and reload it to fix that issue, I'm afraid. Until then..that message is an error message.

So..where were we? Ah yes...the curtain opens and act 9 begins. The Ball is very close now...and I have many twists and turns up my sleeve. Until then, I have to lay out the details that I intend to use later on. Meaning, the characters have to learn certain things about and from one another so that the plot can thicken in the upcoming chapters. So seemingly unimportant or dragging scenes or dialogues are there for me to help develop the story, and I like the reader to discover things by him or herself, rather than for me to explain everything in a dry paragraph.

Besides, I love to write innocent chapters like the one below..for it feels damn good to destroy their implication later on. Ha ha ha! Er..sorry...just enjoy!

*******

Legolas strode into the palace with such childish glee, that everyone who looked at his face was forced to take another look. The dark mood that had claimed him for two days now like some mysterious disease was lifted from his eyes, which shone like rare gems in his beautiful visage. As he walked, an aura of lightness and joy flowed from him, and while the elves sensed it immediately, even the crudest humans halted in mid-action, feeling the strange vibration in the air.

Even the crudest........except for three men. Three men who were so involved in the struggles of their own scheme, that neither noticed the mood of the Prince. He strode by them, and it was as if soft water had flown over hard rocks - the aura bounced off their anxious state and was lost to them. Forget about the aura, they did not even notice the Prince himself as they stood in a corner, trying to figure out the details of their plans.

Legolas, equally unaware of them, walked by like a flaming torch and stepped into the massive garden, glancing around. Maids, servants and cooks were running around, trying to finish the last preparations for the day's dinner. The number of the visitors in the castle was now high enough to turn every little attempt into an event that required immense amount of preparation and work.

The Prince hesitated only for a moment, his eyes rolling over the crowd, before he delved amongst them, his eyes in an unbroken search.

At that very moment, Arwen appeared beside him, as swift and silent as only an elf could be. Legolas was surprised by her sudden sight and blinked momentarily before a smile spread on his face.

"Legolas," she purred slowly, "I have rarely seen you! Why do you deprive us so of yourself?"

The smile on his face grew wider, but not wide enough to break his search through the crowd. His eyes did another wide arch in the garden before they rested on the elf before her. "Forgive me, Arwen. This Ball proved to be a far more challenging task than I imagined," he said, noticing neither her beauty, nor charm.

Arwen took another step towards him, but he seemed oblivious to her movement. "You need another to share this burden with," she said slowly, her gorgeous blue eyes resting on his. "It is no task for a man alone."

"The Princess of Rivendell is, as always, wise beyond any man," was his reply, and it certainly amazed Arwen enough to put her at a loss of words for a moment. For his usual response was expected to be much harsher, colder or insensitive. Probably all three.

"Perhaps," she said softly, gaining confidence by his lack of rejection, "you will find such a person at this Ball?"

Legolas' darting eyes met hers again, then, and he cocked his head before he answered. "Perhaps. It would not surprise me in the least," he said in a dreamy way.

"Ah," sighed Arwen with amusement, "I see that your heart is already prepared for such a thing."

Legolas blinked in surprise. "Indeed," he whispered, brows furrowed. A moment later he added "Too long have I dwelt in idle loneliness. I am more than willing to change that."

Arwen held her breath and swallowed softly. "As am I," she said, gazing into his eyes, that had evaded her again, scanning the crowd instead. At her unblinking gaze, Legolas' attention returned to her and he looked her up and down as if seeing her for the first time. Arwen was an incredibly beautiful elf and tonight she seemed to have surpassed even herself in that. The dress she wore was of rose-colored fabrics that encircled her form with fine layers, held at her waist by a large sash of dried roses, and flowing towards her arms in deft tones of blue and darker red. The Rivendell elf's pale contour stood in between these layers and added to the effect immensely. All in all, she resembled a rose of finest nature.

Legolas' scrutinizing look went from head to toe, then slowly back, and Arwen, who expected a dazed amazement as the result, was more than shocked to see complete and blind disinterest. If not for all her years of finest upbringing, her mouth would have dropped open for sure. As it was, she just remained glued to her spot, wrestling with the realization that she had failed to capture the smallest particle of interest from the man before her. "No.....you will not do........" Legolas murmured with a deep frown and then turned into the garden again. An instant later his features betrayed a sudden excitement and forgetting to bid leave, he strode away hastily, leaving Arwen standing alone - the single withering rose in a garden of color and bloom.

The servant girl did not even see him coming and as the Prince himself appeared suddenly in front of her as if the result of some magic, she almost shrieked in surprised. The thing that spared her the shriek was the shock that took a hold of her tongue as Legolas looked her up and down from the front, and then proceeded to do the same from the back and from a few steps further, then having reached a conclusion, simply took her by the hand and began to pull her away from the garden.

"Sire!" the girl yelped and sent the cutlery in her arms flying off in a loud clatter, to which the Prince was oblivious. "Sire!" she exclaimed again, unable to come with anything else.

Legolas turned to look at her then, but did not slow his pace. "Forgive me. What is your name?"

"I.....I...........Martan," she stammered, almost falling over her own feet at the speed.

"Martan......" mused Legolas, "that is a beautiful name." The girl was too astonished to respond. "I need your help, Martan," he continued, dragging her with him towards another corridor, "it will not take long." The girl just clutched at her skirt with her free hand and followed obediently as fast as she could. The Prince took a look at her over his shoulder and she found herself completely swept away by his smile. "It shall be our secret," he said with a low voice.

"Y-yes......Sire," she said with a whisper and ran faster.

*******

Irulan, on the other hand, was possessed with same childish glee, herself. No matter what she did, her mind seemed to have gained full independence and had no intentions of being told what to think, again. It remained in that darn forest. She scrubbed the floor, and thought of Legolas. She cooked lunch and thought of Legolas. She mended ripped garments and thought of him. To a point when she wanted to throw up her arms in frustration and curse it all. It was not whole-hearted, though. Not at all. For as annoying as it was, it was also immensely refreshing. Legolas shone like the only beacon of her incredibly dark and dull life. He was like the only light source in a long and tedious tunnel. Irulan knew that it was this light that had shown her with certainty that she had been in the dark all this time. And it was both elating and yet depressing - for now the walls seemed to move in on her even further.

It is interesting how others can become agitated by seeing another in this state. Even though it did not affect them in the slightest, suddenly everyone in Irulan and Legolas' life was most annoyed at their state of bliss. Chemarit and Eowyn kept following her around, insisting that the Ball was not such a dreadful thing, that Irulan should grow up and accept it already (for they thought that her sudden disinterest in life itself was due to her inner frustration over the event). Her family, on the other hand, was on the verge of a fit, for no matter what they came up with, Irulan seemed to have slipped beyond the grasp and no torture had any effect on her. That darn happy smile of hers simply would not be wiped away!

It became harder and harder for her to leave to the forest. As a matter of fact, the next day she could not leave at all. The second day came with slow torment, every moment of it filled with anxiety whether the Prince was angry that she had not shown up the day before or not, along with the anguish of not being able to go again. When the sun set that second day, it seemed to bleed over her own heart, and Irulan managed to hold back a sob only by using all her strength, which was not much left.

As the moon rose, she stole out of the house and made a run for it, knowing that Legolas would be gone by a long time now, but feeling the terrible need to go anyway. At least to get away from her misery. At least to find some sort of sanity in the madness that was her life. For that region of the forest had become suddenly her sanctuary.

She ran in the dark, falling twice and cutting herself several times on the sharp edges of branches, but in her desperation, did neither care, nor feel. When she finally arrived, her sorrow that she had ran from seemed to have caught up with her anyway, for she could not help to start crying in the face of her miserable life. She had never felt so horrible before. And Irulan realized with sudden terror that she would feel always horrible from then on. For before, when she did not know better, her life was bearable. But now, she would be forced to live with the memory of Legolas and the light he had thrown over the blanket of darkness.

Clutching the little piece of paper that she had written for the Prince to tell him that she was sorry not to have shown up before and that she doubted to find the time again, in the future, she wiped her tears and walked towards the tree they had sat underneath. At least he would find it tomorrow and know. Then he could stop coming, too. And then perhaps, and only perhaps, Irulan would start to forget. And everything would go back to as it was. And why the heck was that so painful a thought? With the knowledge that there was no one to hear her, she began to sob again and felt as if she was growing smaller by the moment. The moonlit forest was a dark shroud around her, looking rather creepy to be honest, but at that moment, she would not care if she came face to face with a giant spider.

That was a lie.

For when she heard a sound right behind her, Irulan almost died of sheer fear. She opened her mouth to shriek, but a hand enclosed upon it and muffled her cry. All stories tell of how people in such situations fight and struggle. All that, it seems, was pure fiction, for Irulan lost the ability to struggle instantly as such an unexpected threat took her wits away. She remained frozen and felt her conscious slipping away, deeper and deeper, her mind receding into some other place, the reality around her fading with the moment. It took her several moments to realize that someone was talking. And it took her several more moments to realize that said someone was talking to her, for she heard her own name and although having momentarily forgotten that it belonged to her, her mind grasped and held on to the familiarity of it and tried to return to the present.

"Irulan!" it said urgently and a slight shake was performed on her shoulders. "Irulan, are you well? Say something!" it whispered with terror. Irulan blinked and tried to open her eyes that she had shut with all her might. It was not easy, but when she finally did, another -though much more pleasant- shock washed over her at the sight of Legolas. It was a state of perfect surprise and confusion.

Legolas gently squeezed her shoulders and said her name again, and finally it dawned on her that indeed, this was no giant spider!

She let out a long and shaky breath and tried to swallow with an incredibly dry throat. Her arms and legs shaking with weakness, she clutched at the front of his shirt and remained like that for several moments, trying to call her mind back. Legolas, on the other hand, was swiftly losing his own, at the thought of having scared her beyond measure and health. He encircled her waist and pulled her towards the stream that shone like a silver ribbon now, and forcing her to sit down, hastily dipped his hand into the cool water, then prodded it over her face, that seemed to be incredibly hot - from the running or the shock, he could not tell. So lost in his anxious action was he, that he was surprised to feel her hand finding his and stilling it. And he should be worried of her state, but at the sight of her hand on his, he simply remained breathless, everything else forgotten, as an incredible pleasure began to pulse through him.

Several moments later he managed to tore his eyes away, feeling his fingers slip around hers and gaining a lose, but yet stronger hold, and locked eyes with Irulan, who was still heaving slightly, but seemed to be in a far more improved state. "Y-You......almost scared.......me........to.......d- death," she managed between deep gulps of air. Legolas gently squeezed her hand as a distant part of his brain scolded him for being lost in such sensations when she was still in this state.

"As did you," he whispered, and it was a true effort.

Irulan let out another long breath and took a look around. "Wha-what are you doing here, Legolas?"

The elf did not answer for another moment. He seemed to be oddly........stupefied......or entranced. "I.......came for you," he said then, and again, it was an effort. Her fingers moved without her knowledge and by pure accident her thumb gently brushed his wrist. The touch sent an incredible wave of pleasure through Legolas, who bit down a gasp.

"Did you WAIT?" she said, shocked.

Legolas blinked and then gently shook his head. "Nay. I returned." Though it was the strangest thing to think at such a moment, Irulan suddenly thought how amazing he looked under the moonlight. "To leave you a note," he added a moment later.

The words brought the thought of her own note and she realized that she had dropped it somewhere during her 'assault'. A soft chuckle rose from her, then, and she shook her head. "What is it?" said Legolas, finally finding it a little easier to speak. Irulan shook her head again and looked up. "I, too, came to leave you a note."

He smiled with surprise then, and his fingers glided over hers in a gentle attempt of soothing. It was then that Irulan realized where her hand was and she slowly pulled it out of his, brushing her hair from her face and odd enough, feeling a ringing pang of regret at such an action.

Legolas seemed to suddenly lose his breath with the loss of her touch and swallowed softly, not knowing what to do with himself. He pursed his lips, a part of him ashamed that he was showing such boldness, another part of him more than ready for further boldness. He looked up to see her expression, and his gaze fell on the teary look of her eyes and he remembered her sobs ringing through the night a few minutes ago. This time when his hand shot out to touch the corner of her eye, it was not an act of passion, but sincere concern. "You have been crying," he whispered in alarm. When she bit her bottom lip and did not answer, his worry deepened. "Why have you not come? Has something happened, Irulan?"

"I tried to," she said, wiping the remnant of her tears away, "but......." The sentence ended with a frustrated sigh. "I may not get the chance to come again, Legolas," she said finally, surprised that she had actually managed to say it in once sentence.

She heard a sharp intake of breath and when she looked up, there was an expression of clear fear and surprise on his face. "Why?" he whispered with urgency.

Irulan felt like crying again with desperation and shrugged to suppress the feeling. "My duties......will not let me. I barely found the chance to come, now, and it is late night."

Legolas relaxed beyond words at her statement. He had feared that he had been the reason for such a decision. His heart growing lighter again, he tried to establish eye contact with Irulan, who was watching the stream. "It does not matter," he said gently, "you are here now." At that, she looked up at him and he felt mesmerized by how dark her eyes seemed in such a moonlit setting instead of bright days. Irulan did not answer.

"Will you come at night, then?" he continued, trying to put his brain at more useful tasks. A moment later he woke up from his daze and vehemently continued: "Forgive me! I can not believe I asked you for such a thing! You can not and you most certainly should not come through the woods at such an uncanny hour!" He swiftly looked her up and down, cursing himself for not having thought before of such a thing. Indeed, she seemed to have shallow cuts on her arms and neck, too faint to see in the darkness for any other eye, but his elven sight picked them out easily. One of it was on her left cheek - a sharp, pinkish line.

Irulan followed his gaze and located the trace of her escapade with her fingers. "It is nothing," she smiled deftly, "just the mark of a branch."

Legolas looked at her for a long moment, then lowered his gaze to resist the prominent urge to touch it, and trace the slight scratch with his own fingers. Though he would more than willingly engage in such an action, he feared her reaction to it. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to divert his thoughts from her. It was incredibly hard when she was so close.

"I suppose I am a bad friend," Irulan said suddenly. The disappointment on his face only proved her fears - she was simply incapable of continuing this relationship.

"Why is it that you are always at a loss of kind words when it comes to yourself?" Legolas said slowly, dropping his hand and focusing his gaze on her again. She blinked in surprise, then reached out to rip some grass, diverting her gaze.

The elf watched her for a time. Then said "You are far more than a mere friend to me," with a low voice.

Irulan looked up then, and if she had any sense in that head of hers at all, she would see in his eyes what he meant. As it was, she was not bestowed with such virtues. "I would like to come," she said in reply. "I mean, at night. It is a good idea."

"I can not allow that," he said with a flat voice, taking in her condition with a slow gaze from head to toe. "You might injure yourself further next time. Or something worse might happen."

She laughed lightly at that and his eyebrows rose in surprise. "And if I decide to come anyway? How would you hinder me from doing so?" She threw a bemused glance at his frown and taking pleasure from his lack of reply, continued: "Perhaps you would choose not join me."

Legolas shook his head and smiled a beautiful smile. "Such a decision seems to be beyond my power."

Irulan shifted slightly, finding their state too intimate with her returning senses and hoped that he would not see her blush in this darkness. Legolas, of course, understood why she was shifting so, and realized that his chance for further intimacy was lost to him now. He slowly rose to his feet and watched her get up herself, smoothing her skirt.

"I also took the freedom to...aid you..in the matter of the Ball," he said a moment later, hoping that Irulan would not act harsh for some unthinkable reason.

She froze in mid-action and looked up at him. Legolas motioned her to follow him and guided her to the tree of their former conversation. She remained at the edge of its shadow, knowing that she would not see anything in the darkness beyond and watched him walking to the bark of it the tree in perfect ease, as if it was day time, then picking up something and returning with it.

Legolas held out the package to her while his heart refused to slow down. As ridiculous as it was, he felt in eager anticipation of her reaction to his gift, even though he had handed out gifts of far greater value many times before and never cared about the sincerity of the joy it brought.

Irulan received the wrapped item tenderly, not knowing what else to do, and glancing one last time at the Prince, proceeded to open it. The soft feeling of it gave her a good idea about the nature of the present. And she was not mistaken. Even though the beauty of it surpassed her imagination by far. She pulled out the cream colored gown and her mouth fell open at the fineness of it and the artistic quality its creator had embedded into its work. Unknown to her, Legolas had ordered all other work to be delayed for the swift preparation of this piece of garment and thereby, caused quite an uproar in the palace. Since he had also warned the man of saying a single word on the matter, his majesty's personal tailor -who was now overwhelmed with preparing the gowns requested by higher circles- had been unable to explain the delay to the other ladies and had suffered quite a bit of spiritual and even physical injury for his dedication to the Prince.

All her life Irulan had hated gowns. With fierce intensity. For they were more than horrible, uncomfortable pieces of clothing. They were a symbol of the things she had always detested. Such as wealth. Such as status. Such as outer beauty at the expense of inner grace. And how ironic it was that now that the finest of all gowns had ended up in HER coarse hands! She smiled a broken smile at the realization of that.

"I knew not your preference in color. Or style. Or..all else," Legolas suddenly said with open anxiety, "and I knew not if you would think me bold to do such a thing. But...I meant..I meant to.." Irulan's smile grew broader with the stammering Prince before her.

"It is perfect," she said softly, running her fingers over the soft fabric that was, no doubt, of elven making. "Perhaps too perfect for me."

"It is only a gown," Legolas whispered then, the alarm in his voice fainter now. "Nothing more."

Irulan looked up at him and her eyes swept over his skin that seemed to have its own dull glow under this light and his silver hair that fell like a silent waterfall over his shoulders. "If it were only a gown, I would not accept such an expensive gift, Legolas," she said, cocking her head to have a better look at him. "But..it is a symbol of kindness and friendship. And only for that, invaluable. I will feel distinguished to wear it - no matter what color or style....or else," she finished with an amused grin. Legolas let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Besides," continued Irulan casually, "I think of it as a war attire..an armor, really." At the curious and bemused look of the Prince, she continued with equal coolness: "This Ball shall be my battlefield. And even though I stand a slim chance against a cunning enemy of this nature, if I but succeed in pretense, I know that my life might be spared."

"I know mine won't," said Legolas dryly, thinking of hundreds of women and twice that many eyes looking at him without blinking.

"Prince Legolas!" exclaimed Irulan with mock terror. "Surely this is not your sincere opinion about your potential future wives!"

Legolas moaned despite himself and then laughed out at the sound that had an oddness to it, simply because it came from him. She laughed along, for the same reason. A short silence set in between them, then Irulan folded the garment with care and once again wrapped it with the coarser linen fabric.

She looked at the package in her arms for another moment. She could not remember the last time she had received a gift, not to mention a gift of this value. And even though -from a worth point of view- it meant nothing to her, it was one of the kindest things ever done for her. By a man who barely knew her. And who had no need to impress her for any reason. She gently brushed her hand over it again and looked up to the elf. "I do not know what to say," she said with a quiet voice. "A simple 'thank you' seems to do no justice to the gratitude I feel."

"It is nothing," whispered Legolas gently. "Think no more of it."

Irulan sighed with relief, then and took another look around. "I have to go now." The sadness of her voice was lost, for she knew that she would see the Prince again, tomorrow night.

Legolas nodded in silence and kept looking at her. "I will walk you home," he whispered, feeling a little shaken for no reason, as he always did in her presence.

"What?!" at the echo of her voice after such gentle silence, Irulan gulped and hastily lowered it. "No....no need." The Prince just raised his eyebrows and kept looking down at her with a blank expression. "Please?" Irulan tried weakly, knowing too well that Legolas would never let her go back alone in this darkness. He shook his head and firmly crossed his arms over his chest. She threw a frustrated look around. She had known of course that it would come to this.

"I never hear that horn of yours anymore," she said with irritation and began to walk in the direction of her house.

Legolas chuckled beside her, walking in perfect silence. "Nor shall you ever again," he said in amusement.

Irulan threw him a curious look. "What did you do?" she whispered with a certain degree of alarm.

Legolas shrugged softly. "The usual, really," was his reply, "cut a few heads, whipped and tortured some...." he threw her a sidelong glance, "to make examples for others... 'tis a very tiresome thing to be a prince."

Irulan shook her head with soft laughter. "And here I was, almost at the verge of pitying the Prince of Ithilien. Perhaps, Legolas, you will meet your match at this Ball."

"Oh I think I already have," he whispered in amusement, feeling incredible joy at such a childish conversation.

"Wait till you see me in a gown!" exclaimed Irulan. "I can be such a grave danger to public health."

They both laughed and their laughter seemed to make the darkness of the forest grow a little lighter.

Finally when she spotted the mansion from a distance, Irulan sat on a lone log to prolong their time together for a few more minutes and turned to face Legolas, who was sitting beside her, looking at the house. "How would your family feel if I paid you a visit?" he said suddenly.

"What?! Don't ever do anything of that sort!" Irulan yelped a little too loud. The elf was taken aback by her reaction. She lowered her voice and tried to explain without the anxious edge. The idea of her family discovering about Legolas was not an easy thought to be calm about. "Legolas, though it might seem meaningless and improbable to you, believe me when I say that if they knew about you, my family would never let me see you again."

Legolas' eyes widened with disbelief. "How so?" he said with a low voice.

Irulan took a deep breath and turned towards the house again. "They are not very...fond of me," she said, thinking about how she never understood the reason for that resent, herself.

"But, will you not join the Ball with.." he began.

"They do not know I am attending. They would not allow such a thing," was her hasty reply. He kept looking at her with disbelieving eyes.

"They would defy my invitation?" he said, a tinge of anger evident in his tone, now.

"No," sighed Irulan, "but they would make it impossible for me to fulfill that invitation." A moment passed while he thought about her words. "And Legolas..." she said and turned to him, "don't ever think of marrying Vessun or Hetaire. It would be a terrible mistake."

"I have no such intention for either," he said, his eyes focused on her.

Irulan nodded and lowered her gaze, feeling her tiredness setting in on her.

"It will be a long wait, till tomorrow night," Legolas said softly from beside her. She smiled despite herself, but refused to say anything. "I miss you terribly," he whispered then, amazed by his own confession, but feeling that since he had always so little time with her, he had to use it to the fullest.

Irulan pursed her lips as shame pulsed in her again. Shame at the thought that even at this moment, she was deceiving him about her reasons concerning the Ball. "Perhaps," she began, thinking hard which words to choose, "it would be wiser for you to get used to my absence."

Legolas' head shot up at that and the word "absence" rang in his mind over and over again. With a sudden realization it dawned on him that he was failing to even imagine such a state. Even though it was a perfectly normal thing to say on her behalf, she still could not shake the feeling that it was wrong to utter the words in his presence.

The elf looked at her for a long moment, then swallowed softly. "It pains me to see that Ithilien has failed to make you happy, Irulan." Irulan looked away again. "But..." He said a moment later and she felt him brushing a strand of her hair away from her face, "I am no ordinary man. Perhaps I can change that."

She met his eyes, and for the first time was not sure what exactly he meant by that. She sensed an underlying meaning to those simple and innocent words, and while a part of her was curios as to what that meaning was, another part of her was afraid beyond anything to discover it. In a matter of days, the Irulan who had insulted the Prince and had had no other thoughts about him than his very obvious and undeniable beauty of appearance, had found a confidant in him like no other. Legolas treated her so..different. As if she was of such importance and value. No one had ever treated her before like that and to this degree. She realized suddenly that it really did not matter whether he was the Prince or some pauper - as much as he craved for hers, she craved for his company. And even though a dark part of her was repeating over and over again that a friendship between such people was never made to last, she wanted to prove that part wrong. She wanted to show the world that, against all odds, two people could find a basis other than simple social principles to build something beautiful on.

"Perhaps you can, Legolas," she said with a dreamy expression, lost in such thoughts. Legolas sighed softly and listened to the crickets chirping in the background. All he wanted to do at this moment was to take Irulan by the hand and drag her to his castle, so that he could keep her there for all eternity and protect her from anything and anyone else. He glanced at her house, that was shrouded in darkness, and found it surprisingly similar to his own dwelling - a place with walls that kept you apart from the rest of the world. Once again, the parallelism in the lives of seemingly so different people perplexed him.

Irulan slowly rose to her feet and took a step back, towards her home. "Do not cross the forest by yourself, Irulan. I will be here to pick you up," he said with determination. Irulan gulped with sudden anxiety and involuntarily took a look over her shoulder to the mansion. "No worries," Legolas added gentler then, "they will not spot me." She nodded a moment later, and as painful as that was, took another step back.

"Thank you, Legolas. For everything."

He cocked his head then and looked her up and down for the last time. A peculiar smile overcame him. "Do not thank me yet. I am not finished by far," he said softly and then disappeared in the dark foliage with such ease, Irulan thought that she might have dreamt him up.