A/N- major props to Justine, my fantastic beta!

And yes….its been stupidly long since I've updated and you may feel free to berate me for such a dreadful thing….but Lithil is not lost! Don't worry….those of you clinging on from Daughter of Telcontar should be well acquainted with my….lapses in updating. Sorry!

Chapter 9- Protection

Lithil staggered back to her rooms as if she had just come from a fight: her breathing was ragged, her movements were stiff and forced and for whatever reason she was limping. The tear-drop scar burned as if it was just recently acquired, every time she drew her hand away from it she expected to see blood on her palm.

She collapsed on her bed, barely managing to exhale; any kind of exclamation was beyond her.

They were here! Great Valar, they had come!

The thought itself still astounded her; over two hundred years of living a double life, of hiding Simbelmyne away in a trunk where she could be free to ignore her and now the wretch breathed again.

Standing carefully, Lithil stared at her mirror wondering who this being reflected in the glass was. This girl in an elegant gown, wearing a crown and a priceless piece of jewelry was not her. This was not who she had made herself, this was who she had run from being. With a second wind, with renewed vigor, she literally tore the expensive dress into rags. Taking the circlet from her head she threw it across the room, hearing it hit something that immediately crashed to the floor, what it was, she did not care. As for the necklace? She couldn't bring herself to break it. It was exquisite in so many ways, even if those ways were tainted by the flower's connotation. She could think of better ways to use that flower, she was sure of it. At the moment however, she could think of nothing better then leaving it resting on her breastbone.

Turning she plunged herself into the wooden drawers that held the attire she normally wore for her role as a servant of the house. She threw the material on as though wearing it could erase the events of the day, making her just another servant once again.

She was smoothing out some creases that blemished the fabric when something reflected in the mirror caught the corner of her eye. It may have been a trick of the light for it was surely not a trick of the eye itself, but Lithil could have sworn that she saw her garb alter. It seemed rougher, older and dirtier; she wondered if her mind was toying with her vision. The clothing she glimpsed in the mirror appeared to be the same garments she had seen long ago, so long she scarcely remembered…

Flashback

Running, running frantically from the bedroom, she could only bump into walls and people and hope to eventually find a door. It was exasperating being lost in a maze of humans who could not decipher the pleas that poured from her mouth in a foreign tongue. Even though the tears obscured her sight, she kept going, careful of nothing spare the assurance that she did not go backwards, backwards was not something she would ever care to do.

It repulsed her, the man's hands, his touch, his kisses. He seemed to be more like a monster then a man with his rough mane of black hair and all that fur about his face. What normal creature looked like that? It was certainly a new spectacle for the elvish child to see a man at all! Much less one that was so dramatically different from her own people! How was she expected to know that it was perfectly normal for humans to have beards? But never mind the beards and how they scratched her skin, it was the man's hands she sought to escape.

She supposed that binding was a pleasurable experience, after all, the older girls gossiped and giggled about it as if it were, but now she was not so sure. She was so terrified, all she wanted was to bury her face into her mother's skirts or curl up into a ball somewhere and be safe; safe from hands groping at a body barely formed, safe from chapped lips and rough beards that still held the essence of previously consumed ale. Safe from calloused, tough-skinned hands searching, moving up her calf, past her thigh, they seemed to be always searching. Uncaring as she fidgeted, as she protested or even as she screamed. It was not until she beat his hand away and ran, that he noticed her displeasure at all.

And so she kept running, running faster and hopefully farther.

The corridor that served as her escape route suddenly came to a stop, only one door was left and she quickly went through it, not thinking about the possibility that there might be something behind it she would not care to see.

Luckily, there was nothing there that would harm her. Nay, the people there were kinder then any others that had ignored her as she careened through the halls. They wore rough-spun garments that were well worn in and sporting many a repair and a few fresh tears. But through the indiscernible cloth there was a distinct color pattern. These were the servants of the Gondorian Lord.

The servants thought her a human child but quickly found she was nothing of the sort. One old matron thought it best the girl receive some air lest she faint; had it not been for that stroke of luck Lithil might still be racing through the corridors of Gondor escaping those horrid hands.

End Flashback

It was the uniforms, she realized the uniforms of Gondor.

A blue bodice and skirt with white undergarments all of which were sewn together with bits of this and that. Lithil tried to picture herself wearing such a uniform if she were a man's slave but could not keep the image for very long. True, she is a servant now, and has been for many years, but despite her place in the prince's bed, she had never acted like less of a servant, indeed she would get angry at her lover when he suggested she take his crown and never need worry about polishing his father's tables again. She didn't mind being a maid of the royal house, for she liked knowing that when she rose in the morn she was expected, just as countless others were, to be up and about and at her assigned post. There were no favorites amongst the servants and she was expected to work as hard as the rest; she liked the anonymity that it afforded her.

But the elves were far different from men, dear Valar she had learned that long ago.

She looked down at the dress she wore; there were no requirements as to what she was to wear, save that it could not be shabby and it was preferred you wear the colors of Greenwood even if not those of the Royal House. Garments could be tailor made or home-spun and those cleaning maids that spent their earnings on pretty dresses were treated no differently then those who saved their wages for more important things.

There was one critical difference between being a servant here and a servant that treaty condemned her to be. Here she could leave whenever she pleased and no one would lift a finger to stop her. There? There she was a slave. A slave until her death, which, unless unforeseeable evils occurred, would never happen.

Before she could think into it farther a knock came to her door and Legolas slipped inside. A small, tired smile lit her face when she saw him.

"Ah, there is the maid I love so well! She was hiding from me for a time." He said as he took in her appearance.

"She was not hiding, My Prince, merely absent. She was playing a part she has long since abandoned rehearsing for."

He crossed the room giving her a warm kiss before taking her hands, "No more playing with words, beloved. This is something we must discuss."

Sitting down she rolled back her shoulders, trying to relax away the tension that had built up throughout the day, "Indeed we must. But I wish we didn't have to."

"As do I, but such is not the case." Placing both his hands comfortingly on hers he looked her squarely in the face, flatly stating, "I refuse to let you go."

Lithil leaned so that their foreheads touched, "At least we agree, melethnin." My love

Author's Note: I've been staring at this entry for literally 6 or 7 months trying to figure out what comes after it… and I still don't know. I can't find words. So I'll post this and hope it comes to me.

Aren't they cute together? Awwww, Leggy and Lithy!