It was beautiful inside Lothlórien, as though a pure light dwelt inside of everything; even the elves. Erytheia was astounded by it, having never seen anything so beautiful in all her days. Until Celeborn led the lady Galadriel to where they stood. Erytheia had not thought it possible for any living thing to be so lovely, and she was not the only one in the fellowship to think so; in fact they all did, for in all of Middle Earth there was no one more fair.

"The enemy knows you have entered here," Celeborn told them. "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone."

Erytheia stood beside Haldir apart from the fellowship, and looked at the lord Celeborn as he spoke. He offered her a fleeting glance, though no hatred or mistrust was in his eyes.

"Eight that are here yet nine there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."

"He has fallen into shadow," the lady said, her voice full of sorrow, after looking at Aragorn.

Her voice surprised Erytheia, it was lovely and deep and soft as silk; and Erytheia had heard it in her mind before they had entered Caras Galadhon. There was sorrow all around her, even in her own heart – Gandalf had been much beloved, and greatly needed.

Erytheia looked back to the lady of the wood as she spoke again, hanging on to her every word as though it was spoken directly into her ear.

"The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the Company is true."

All of the company were gazing adoringly at the lady elf, for she truly was magnificent. In there minds was only one thought; no one in the world was more lovely and gracious than she.

"Do not let your hearts be trouble," Galadriel soothed. "Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace."

They all bowed as the lord and lady bid them farewell, but Erytheia was made to halt. "May I have a moment?" the lady asked looking at her.

Erytheia felt as though her soul was being pierced with those blue eyes, she almost felt in danger. A quick look at Aragorn had her moving forward, for he gave her a curt nod and a hard look, and she followed after the lady of light feeling unbearably dark by her side.

The lady's voice was even more beautiful when she spoke in the elven tongue, and Erytheia – though wary – could not help but nearly swoon.

She was snapped out of her reverie the moment hands touched her, and she looked at the young she-elves as they gently removed her black dress.

"You are of a dying race," the lady said, drawing the concerned dragon back under her spell. "Tell me, what of your parents?"

Erytheia stood, now completely bare before the lady without a care in the world. "My father was like me," she told the lady.

"Your mother was a dragon," the lady said finishing Erytheia's thought.

So at peace was she that she did not feel the lady in her mind, nor the elves pulling on a new dress. "Yes, she was. My father stayed a dragon with her until he died."

"And you were left to care for yourself," the lady said searching deeper. "You truly are the last of your kind. You are more dragon than human, but you cannot bear children."

"No," Erytheia told her in agreement, not finding it the least bit strange that the lady knew all of this.

Galadriel smiled at her, having looked through all her memories and was now satisfied. "Gandalf spoke fondly of you. You were barely a woman when he found you. He spoke of your courage, and of your heart. I do believe he was right."

Erytheia stood still as the lady kissed her cheek, smiling as she pulled away. "Thank you for letting me come here."

Galadriel smiled beautifully at the dragon. "It was a true pleasure to meet you."

Erytheia watched as the lady left, and the further she walked the faster the spell withered. Until Erytheia stood with elves at her back, a new dress cloaking her, and fear in her heart. For she now felt what she had been too stupefied to feel – the lady had been in her mind. She hastily returned to the others, who were gathered beside a river.

Pippin greeted her warmly and she gave a small smile. Her new dress was remarked on, all but Boromir – who was lost in his thoughts sitting away from the others – and Legolas told her she looked pretty.

She looked beautiful, Legolas thought as his followed her as she sat beside the river. Her dress was the same blue as his shirt, her sleeves hung off her shoulders and billowed at her side. He sat beside her, forcing his eyes to the water rather than her face.

"You are not at peace here," he remarked, feeling her nerves as well as seeing her stiff back.

"Can you blame me?" Erytheia asked looking at him appalled, "after what happened with you?."

Her words stung and he turned away from her.

"I'm sorry," she said softly after only a moment, her voice small and fretting. "That was unkind."

He looked at her seeing she was sorry and he sighed realizing how fearful she must be – dragon's were not loved creatures, and she had only ever had mistreatment from elves. "I supposed you have earned a little unkindness," he said, offering forgiveness.

She looked over at him, feeling relieved he was letting her harsh words go so easily – she did not want him angry with her. Her thoughts returned to the lady Galadriel, of how strange her head felt after they had spoken.

"Are you alright?" Legolas asked when he saw her furrowed brows.

She turned to him prepared to say she was fine, but then she sighed and laid back in the grass.

He laid beside her and stared at her, waiting for her to look over at him. And once she did was when he next spoke. "You will not see another prison, I swear to you." He waited until the surprise faded from her eyes and a different emotion he could not name took its place, and then he turned his head to look at the sky.

She stared at his face wondering how after everything he held no doubts about her; and she wondered even more at what it was he made her feel. She did not like any of the answers and so she turned away from him. It was not long before sleep took hold of them both, and as the lady Galadriel had said; they slept in peace

…

Legolas woke to a pale light shining, and he smiled at the peace and comfort he felt. He saw Erytheia lying beside and turned to her, his eyes raking over ever detail. She truly was beautiful; with her dark hair and her warm skin, her lovely face so sweet as she slept.

He did not know what made him move, perhaps it was his wish to tell her what he had been wanting to since the moment she had returned to her human skin – that he had missed her, that he cared for her. Or perhaps it was the peace both in his heart or on her face. Either way he moved forward and kissed her, feeling her brows furrow in her sleep making him smile. He woke her to kisses along her neck and shoulders, and then he found himself staring down into her golden eyes.

There was a small smile on her lips as she touched his cheek, and he smiled before capturing her mouth once more. Her hands in his hair, his around her waist, and he rolled on top of her. There was fire in his veins, his blood boiling as their tongues met.

…

He woke with a gasp, breathing heavily with his cheeks aflame. He was startled by what he had dreamt, and he turned his head to Erytheia to see her eyes closed. He listened to her breathing and he sighed relieved at it being even. He stared at her face, her sweet sleeping face, and his cheeks flushed warmer. He reached a tentative hand to her face, tracing the planes of her cheek. He ran his thumb over her lips, remembering what he'd dreamt they'd felt like. Heart leapt at the thought and he quickly stood before retreating from her.

Her eyes opened the moment he was gone. She had awoken from her own dream almost an hour before he had – only in hers they had been wearing nothing. She rolled on her side and held a hand to her mouth, cursing herself – cursing him for making her feel this way and dream of such things. She was a dragon, hardly a human at all as the lady had said. When she died there would not be another whose second skin was a dragon – she was truly the last of her kind. And there she was dreaming of an elf prince. Bloody hell, she thought.

They were all woken an hour later and given food before they prepared to leave. Lambas bread had been given to them, enough to last them weeks if they ate sparingly, as well as boats and cloaks. Haldir fastened the green cloak on Erytheia's shoulders, holding her eyes for a moment before stepping away. And the lady Galadriel also bestowed upon each of them a gift.

To Erytheia Galadriel gave a necklace, hung from a gold chain was a lovely golden dragon – the dragon was wrapped around a light blue gem, one Erytheia had never seen before.

"Thank you," Erytheia said as sincerely as she could – for she knew it must have been made for her last night.

Galadriel smiled before kissing her cheek once more. "Until we meet again, my dragon," she said warmly with a hand under the younger woman's chin before moving to the next in the fellowship.

"It is beautiful," Legolas said looking at Erytheia's gift.

"As is your bow," she said reaching a hand out to touch it. She traced one of the gold carvings.

"I know," Legolas said before he held the bow out and appraised it again.

She nearly laughed at the look of reverence on his face as he looked at his gift, he noted her half smile and he returned it. It took her moment to realize something – the gem in her necklace was the color of his eyes.