"Now," said Melian, clapping her hands together with a smile. "My ladies are also here to help you get ready."

"Right now?" Ilmare asked. Legolas hardly took any time getting prepared for his celebration.

"Being a lady requires much more preparation." Melian stated. "You must look your best on this day. You are going to be the center of attention tonight."

Ilmare was uncertain about that aspect. When she had first arrived at Greenwood, she found herself with every eye glued to her. She did not enjoy it much and tried to make it happen as little as possible.

"Oh," Ilmare said simply. "Alright."

The girl allowed herself to be pampered for this one time in her life. Ilmare stood surrounded by the handmaidens as queen Melian observed the process with great amusement in her eyes, seeing Ilmare's obvious discomfort.

The ladies took off Ilmare's dress that she had been wearing to ride. Although they didn't say anything, the looks on their faces told Ilmare that they were unsure why she was dressed so. She ignored their questioning looks, pretending that she didn't see them.

They took great care at garbing Ilmare in her gown, making sure that it fit her every curve perfectly. The dress felt like a cloud on her skin. The dress showed off her collar bones, accentuating the graceful curve of her neck. The skirt fell from her hips like a golden waterfall.

"It is as if it was molded to my figure," stated Ilmare as she admired herself in the mirror. She looked at the back, where it was cut low, showing her shoulder blades.

"Not quite," the queen said. "But, we had your measurements from making all of your dresses before."

Ilmare nodded slowly, giving herself one last look over in the mirror before turning to the ladies in her room. "Now what?" she asked with her brows furrowed. "We still have a lot of time before it starts."

"We must do your hair." Aerin explained, guiding Ilmare to a small vanity table. "With hair as wild as yours, we do not know how long it will take!"

Ilmare laughed softly at her jest before carefully sitting down on a low stool. Each of the queens hand maidens took a brush and began tugging it through her tangled hair. Ilmare tried to hide the pain they were inflicting upon her scalp. She tried to catch Aerin's eye, but she was deep in a conversation with the queen.

Ilmare huffed quietly and prepared herself for as long as it was going to take. She was patient through the entire ordeal, letting the elves tug and twist as her hair until they were pleased. They didn't let Ilmare see what they had done until the ladies were finished.

The braid wrapped itself from her hairline at an upwards angle on the right side of her head. From there, it separated into many other braids of varying styles and sizes where they intertwined together and wrapped around the back of her head. A few silver pins were put in place to hold in a few stray hairs and to add a shine to the look.

Ilmare knew it was pretty. It was beyond anything she could do. However, it took a very long time and the stool she was seated in was beginning to hurt her backside. She stood swiftly, taking a few steps to reach Aerin and the queen to give them a good look.

"It frames your face perfectly!" Aerin remarked, tilting Ilmare's head to get a better look at it.

"Is that it then?" Ilmare asked as her face was guided this way and that.

"Not quite," the queen side, making Ilmare groan in her mind. "But nearly. It will not take much longer," she assured.

"What is there left to do?" the girl asked as she was pulled back to the stool by the handmaidens.

"Just adding a little something extra…" one of them explained. In her hand she held face powder while her companion held charcoal and lip stain.

"Makeup?" Ilmare said, looking at Melian with wide eyes. "I do not wish to hide my face."

The queen laughed. "Hide your face? Oh, no. This is simply to enhance it!"

The ladies did not ask for permission before getting to work on her face. Their hands worked like artists, painting a masterpiece on her skin. The powder tickled Ilmare's nose as it was applied and she tried very hard not to sneeze. She found it hard to sit still had they applied the charcoal to her eyes, always being told not to twitch and to stay perfectly still. When the lip stain was applied, it felt like paste on her lips.

This process didn't take nearly as long as the others, and for that, Ilmare was thankful. She studied herself in the mirror, trying to see if she liked her appearance or not.

Ilmare's skin was a few shades lighter, making the deep red of her lips stand out. Her dark eyes were framed by the charcoal, drawing her attention straight to there. It made her look different.

But not a bad kind of different, Ilmare thought to herself. She rather liked how she looked.

"Thank you," Ilmare said, flashing a white smile towards the handmaidens. "You did a wonderful job,"

"It was our pleasure," they said in unison as they packed up their things.

Ilmare was admiring the work they had done in the mirror when Melian stepped behind her, placing her hands on her shoulders.

"You look beautiful," she said with a grin.

Ilmare looked up at her, hoping her eyes showed how much gratitude she felt. "Thank you so much, my lady. It is perfect."

"Nearly perfect," Melian corrected, placing a golden circlet of twisting vines and silver flowers upon her head.

Ilmare brought a hand to her mouth, staring at it in shock. "This… this is for me?" she shook her head, reaching to take it off. "No, I couldn't-"

Melian grabbed her forearm, stopping the girl in her tracks. "It is a gift," The queen explained. "What else could it be worn for?"

Ilmare was silent, her heart soaring in her chest at the kindness of the queen. They were not related by blood in any way, but the queen treated her as if. Ilmare stood and threw her arms around Melian, shocking the queen for a moment.

"Thank you." Ilmare breathed, trying to control her emotions, not wanting to tears to mar the nice work they had done. "Thank you so much." They embraced each other for a few moments longer before breaking apart and grinning widely.

"How do I look?" Ilmare asked, spinning around to show them everything.

"Ilmare," Aerin breathed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You look… royal."

The girls smile faltered as she shifted her weight awkwardly, wringing her small hands. "I may look it, but I am not."

An awkward silence enveloped the three females for a heartbeat until the queen brought something to attention.

"Legolas has told me that you have planned to move out of the hall," Melian said, pacing around the room.

"Yes," Ilmare answered quietly, her face heating up for she felt like she had offended the queen somehow.

"Now, do not get me wrong," she continued, moving to stand in front of the girl. "I will not make you do anything you do not wish to do… but I have grown fond of seeing you every day. You bring a brightness with you that was needed in these halls. If you leave, and I am not going to try and sway you either way, I will miss seeing you around here."

Ilmare was silent, deep in thought. She was torn. Of course, the royal hall was better than anything else she would ever get, but she felt like she was being housed. Ilmare studied the queen's face with furrowed brows, finding nothing but honesty and kindness in her eyes.

Ilmare grinned a watery smile, shaking her head at how easily she could be persuaded. "Well, when you put it like that… how can I refuse?"

All of the ladies grinned widely at each other, giggling amongst themselves lightly.

"Now," said the queen, bringing their laughter to an end. "I believe it is high time to get to the party!"

Legolas stood in the crowd surrounded by many of his friends from the guard. He had a goblet of wine in his hand but was taking it much slower than the year before. He did not want a headache of the same kind tomorrow morning.

The young prince stood about where Ilmare had stood the year before, their positions switched. He felt a mix of nervousness and excitement for his friend.

Also, a feeling he could not name.

All around him he has heard the ellyn of Greenwood speak of Ilmare's beauty and how they wished to dance with her and try their luck. If it were up to Legolas, he would keep these elves as far away from Ilmare as possible.

Preferably sending them to Rivendell.

Soon, the din of elvish voices lowered, the halls beginning to quiet.

"Here she comes," Amandal whispered, gesturing towards the platform with his mug of wine, careful not to spill one precious drop of it.

Ilmare stepped slowly into view, a few audible gasps filling the room. She easily had everyone's attention on her, both males and females, the latter becoming slowly jealous when they realized they were not on the radars of the ellyn of Greenwood anymore.

"Re naa vanima," Legolas heard whispered from somewhere in the crowd. She is beautiful.

"There is no way that is Ilmare," Amandal slurred, already beginning his decent into intoxication. "There is no way that is the elfling that was running around the halls stealing sweets with you!"

Legolas said nothing, staring at his friend in shock. She stepped slowly towards his own mother, who was to act as her guardian for the giving of the first wine. Ilmare looked a high lady of court, perhaps even a princess! What a transformation from the young healer he had seen only this morning.

Ilmare walked with a feigned confidence in her step but was a nervous wreck on the inside. She felt all eyes on her, heard every whisper that passed through ones lips. She wanted to look towards the crowd, find Legolas and hope he could somehow send her comfort through his eyes. However, she kept looking forward, meeting Melian's gaze. She nodded encouragingly, beckoning Ilmare closer with her eyes.

At last, the girl stopped and looked briefly at the crowd, which did not help her nerves at the slightest. However, the queen's gaze was comforting.

"Ilmare," Melian said softly so only she could hear. "Do not fret. It is nearly over." She looked at her encouragingly as she handed the girl a golden goblet filled with the finest wine.

Ilmare nodded softly, afraid her voice would betray her.

"With this sip of wine." Melian announced with a grand voice for all to hear. "You are now mature, your childhood will be behind you and the future will lie ahead. Are you ready?"

"I am." Ilmare replied as calmly as she could muster.

"Then drink." The queen commanded.

Ilmare slowly brought the wine to her lips, taking a tiny sip into her mouth as she tasted it for the first time. It was a mix of sweet and bitter, not as pleasant as she thought it was going to be by the amounts consumed by the elder elves, but not all together unbearable. She swallowed the wine and took the goblet from her lips as cheers erupted from the crowd and the minstrels began playing an upbeat tune.

Ilmare smiled, laughing lightly as she felt a weight being lifted from her shoulders. She felt giddy with no longer being a child and soon being able to take her position in Greenwood society.

"Do not just stand here!" the queen said, ushering her off the platform. "You must dance! I dare say you have many admirers."

Ilmare said nothing, looking over her shoulder at the queen with wide, frightened eyes. The prospect of dancing with ellon who she didn't know well did not excite Ilmare.

Melian said nothing and only laughed as she pushed the frightened girl into the throng of celebrating elves. Ilmare was quickly surrounded, the first few words and conversations were congratulations and compliments of how she looked. It didn't take long for the first dance proposal to come.

He was a young, light haired elf that worked in the kitchens with Avolozir. Ilmare had spoken to him a handful of times and from what she had heard from the others, he was a big flirt and tried his luck with every available elleth in the realm.

Of course, Ilmare was unable to deny his request and took his hand. The elf, whose name was Branilor, held her hand tightly and took to in the middle of the dancing elves. The pair bowed in respect to each other before moving in. Ilmare placed a hand of his shoulder as their hands met. Branilor placed a hand on her waist and drew her in much closer than she would be comfortable with considering this was the first physical contact she had ever had with him.

"You look beautiful tonight," he complimented with an easy smile.

"Thank you, my lord." Ilmare answered respectfully. "The queen's hand maidens did a wonderful job."

Off to the side, Legolas watched the pair with his lips pressed together as tightly as Branilor held Ilmare. He was fairly certain he did this to no elleth last year and they were not bold enough to try this with him. He watched as Ilmare's back tensed as Branilor leaned in close to her ear.

"I would not give all the credit to the ladies," he whispered lowly in her ear.

Ilmare nearly stumbled as he spoke. "I beg your pardon, my lord?"

Branilor chuckled lowly. "True beauty cannot be given by any number of handmaidens." The words sound like he was complementing her, but Ilmare heard an underlying tone that suggested other thoughts.

She was speechless, looking at her feet with her brows furrowed. She was definitely not used to such words being directed at her. Ilmare was at a loss for words, not being sure of what to say. She was, thankfully, saved by a tap on her shoulder. Another ellon wishing for a dance.

Branilor easily gave up his position as Ilmare's dance partner, but not before leaving a lingering kiss on her hand.

"Until we meet again," he said.

Ilmare sighed in relief, turning to the new partner with a small smile on her face. Perhaps this time it would be different.

However, it wasn't.

Each dance was the same. Ilmare was held too close and tightly for her comfort, being whispered sweet nothings and some rather bold comments that would leave her speechless. She had not even been of age for a day and already the comments took a rather bold turn.

As the hours droned on and more wine was consumed, the elves grew louder and more rowdy. In fact, Branilor came back after a few servings of wine and made a rather uncalled for statement about his bed chambers to which Ilmare feigned hunger and scurried as far away from him as she could get.

Ilmare slumped against the wall, exhaling rather loudly. To her side, a table laden with goblets of wine stood. She debated with herself. Ilmare knew she did not want to end up like Legolas the year before, but she figured one glass wouldn't hurt. Perhaps it would take the edge off the pain in her feet.

She downed the wine quickly, glad that the dulling effects happen almost instantly. Ilmare sighed softly, swirling the wine in the goblet.

"Ilmare!" someone shouted, making her jump slightly. Amandal walked up to her with a brow raised. "Getting drunk on your own? Now that is just not acceptable!"

"Lower you voice!" Ilmare hissed narrowing her eyes. "I simply cannot dance anymore!"

"You are being over dramatic!" Amandal insisted, then paused, looking thoughtful. "Although I am sure Legolas would agree." He laughed softly as if recalling a memory. "He looked about ready to stick an arrow in some of the ellyn you were dancing with!"

Ilmare felt her face heat up and asked, although she was fairly certain she already knew the answer. "What do you mean?"

Amandal, who was obviously drunk, rolled his eyes. "Did you not notice the way they were holding onto you? They looked about ready to bind themselves to you right there!"

Ilmare coughed and spat the wine she was drinking back into the goblet. "Amandal!" she scolded. "I do not believe I have had enough wine to allow that kind of talk! I am still but a young maiden!" she laughed.

The elf shrugged, taking another swing of wine. "I am simply stating the facts! Legolas had not kept his eyes off of you!"

She scanned the area, looking for the golden head of the prince but was unable to locate him. The girl was unsure if she had seen him at all that night.

Ilmare found herself blushing at this statement and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her pointed ear. She was about to reply, but was stopped by another dance proposal. Ilmare could not fathom how she has not danced with every ellon in Greenwood by now.

As Ilmare was being led once again to the dancing, she looked behind her shoulder at Amandal and mouthed Help me! The elf, who was already pink in the face, turned himself red as he laughed, slapping his knee as if he had just been told a good joke.

Ilmare swore vengeance on the elf as she was brought into the throng of dancing bodies. She noticed that Branilor has found a new elleth to focus his attentions on, for which she was quite thankful.

Ilmare continued to dance as the noise grew louder, the movements sloppy, and hands began to fumble. She wanted out of this hall, to find somewhere quieter to relax and not drown herself in wine to block out all of this dreadful dancing.

Her prayers were answered as she switched partners yet again. Ilmare expected to see another elf who she had not bothered to learn the name of, but her face split with a grin when she realized who it was.

"Legolas," she breathed happily, easily sliding in position to dance with him. There was nothing awkward about the way he held her, everything was just natural.

"Hello, thinnas." He said as the music began. It was a slow tune that did not require much coordinated footwork and only light swaying. "You look lovely tonight."

She had heard that at least a hundred times that night, but hearing it from the lips of Legolas was something completely different. "Thank you. Your mother had everything planned out."

Legolas nodded as Ilmare leaned into his chest, resting her cheek on his tunic. "Aye. She is one to organize such events." He felt her nod her head slowly. She had held out with the dancing much longer than he, but now Ilmare was growing tired. "How about we go somewhere else?" he suggested softly.

Ilmare perked up instantly at this. "Really?"

Legolas nodded, a plan already forming in his head. He tugged on her hand, which was already intertwined with his and began leading her through the hall. As they passed by a tabled, Legolas swiftly picked up two bottles of fine wine and gave Ilmare a pair of goblets to hold as they escaped the clutches of the party.

They laughed as they sprinted through the halls together, or, as fast as Ilmare could run with her heaps of skirts.

"I feel like an elfling!" Ilmare gasped as they rounded a sharp corner. "But instead of stealing sweet cakes, we steal wine!"

"Things change when you are mature!" Legolas laughed as they slipped through the doors that led into the royal hall.

Ilmare followed Legolas as they burst through the doors to his room, laughing, panting, and out of breath. She tossed the goblets lazily onto his bed as he did the same with the wine.

Legolas tore off his circlet and placed it on top of his wardrobe, Ilmare following suit. She rested hers slightly on top of his, letting the silver support the gold. She stepped out of her tight shoes as Legolas took a few blankets from the bed and tossed them on the floor, adding in a pillow or two for good measure.

Ilmare watched as Legolas took a candle and set in in the middle of the blankets and pillows.

"Careful," she warned as she picked the pins out of her hair. "We do not want that to set on fire." Ilmare skillfully unwove her hair. She felt a bit bad for taking apart an hours work in just a few second and, although it looked beautiful, it was very uncomfortable. She freed her locks before plopping down next to Legolas, who was pouring the wine.

"How was the dancing?" Legolas snickered as he passed a goblet to Ilmare who automatically took a huge gulp.

"Awful!" she cried, the dim light of the candle illuminating her face. "The way some of those elves held me and the comments some of them would say! You would think we were courting already!"

"What did they say?" asked Legolas seriously. The sight of her in the arms on those ellyn made the prince prickle, but the idea of them speaking to Ilmare in an improper manner? Well, that made him see red.

Ilmare shrugged. "A lot of flirtatious nothings… but a few very suggestive ideas from those who had too much to drink." She said it as though it were nothing, but remembering some of the words made her cringe.

"That was not very courteous of them," Legolas said lowly, trying to keep his voice level. His teeth were clenched together tightly.

"Did the same thing happen to you?" Ilmare questioned with curiosity.

The prince shook his head, swallowing the last mouthful of wine before pouring himself more. "Not at all."

Ilmare rolled her eyes and laughed lightly. "Must be a strictly female thing then, yes?"

They spoke for a while longer, getting caught up on what they had missed in the time they had spent apart, telling stories of training and funny little accidents that happened here and there. They hardly noticed when they were on the last few swallows of wine. Both were fairly intoxicated, not enough to make them pass out on the floor just yet, but enough to make them bold enough to say things they usually would not.

"I bet Nessa could beat your horse in a race!" Ilmare gambled, her head rested on the prince's shoulder.

"Oh really?" Legolas said, looking down at the girl in amusement. "Might I remind you who was ahead the entire ride this morning?"

Ilmare slapped his arm playfully, wrinkling her nose. "That is because you knew the way!"

"Ah, yes." Legolas sighed as he laid down, Ilmare following suit, curling on her side and softly resting her head on his shoulder, using it like a pillow. "I guess I did know the way." Legolas was silent for a moment, looking at the roof with narrowed eyes. "I wish I could see the stars through the stone."

Ilmare propped herself onto her elbows, looking down at her friend, her messy hair lazily tossed over her shoulder. "Well, perhaps we can simply dig through the stone. Like dwarves!"

Legolas made a face and shook his head quickly. "Never mind, then."

Ilmare laughed lightly, still hovering over Legolas, looking down at him with a peaceful expression. The prince watched her lovely face serenely. He slowly brought a hand up and rested it on her cheek. This time, Ilmare did not freeze up at the contact, nor did she shy away. Instead, Ilmare leaned into the warmth of his hand.

"I had a dream where we kissed once," Legolas said softly out of the blue. His thumb ran soothing circles over Ilmare's soft skin.

"Oh, really?" she asked, not shocked or surprised or awkward at all. The wine had a great effect on the normally nervous girl.

Legolas sat up, resting his other hand upon her cheek and looking at Ilmare seriously. "It was vivid and blurry all at the same time." He explained. "It must have been the wine."

Ilmare nodded slowly, placing a hand on top of his, studying the prince's eyes carefully. "Was it… bad?"

He shook his head rapidly, leaning in closer. "No… not at all." It was then that Legolas closed the small distance between them and brushed his lips against hers.

Ilmare leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and letting one hand get tangled in his hair. Legolas took this as a sign to continue and slid his hands from her face, one of them resting on the back of her neck, keeping her face close and the other holding on to her hip. He hauled her onto his lap and pulled Ilmare flushed against him. He parted her lips with his own, deepening the connection. He nipped and her bottom lip gently, causing her to take a sharp intake of breath. Legolas felt as though he could not get her closer to him. After a night of watching others hold her, it was his turn.

His intoxicated state made him bold. The prince trailed his lips to her jaw and neck, leaving fire in his tracks. Legolas kissed just under her ear, letting his lips barely brush her skin as he reached her shoulder. They were intoxicated not only on the wine, but with their touch. The pair thought nothing of the outside world, only each other.

"Legolas," Ilmare breathed, grabbing onto his hair tightly. Their eyes met, both heavily lidded. Their chests rose and fell and they struggled to catch their breath.

"Was that right?" he asked softly, kissing her lips again.

Ilmare nodded. "Yes." She rested her forehead against his. "It felt right."

The pair sat in silence for a few moments longer, wrapped in in each other's arms. Eventually, Ilmare broke apart, smiling softly.

"I should be getting back to my room," she said, her mind in a blur.

"Right," Legolas sighed as he helped her stand from the ground. He watched as she less than gracefully attempted to shove her shoes onto her feet, the wine messing with her balance. It was amusing to watch.

He followed her out the door, walking her to her chambers although they were right across the hall. Ilmare paused in front of the door, turning around to say goodnight but in a flash, his mouth was hard against hers again. He pushed her back against the door frame, pressing himself against her. He wanted to be sure that he could do this. Legolas thought of all of the other ellyn of his realm that would probably have loved to take his spot. But no, Ilmare chose to be with him tonight instead. He knew it was not because of his title, he could see it in her eyes. He slowly removed his lips from hers before kissing her forehead softly.

"Goodnight." He murmured before slipping into his own room, leaving Ilmare breathless and her heart pounding.

She smiled as she opened her door, pressing a finger to her lips where they were still warm. Ilmare did not know what she would think of this in the morning, but that was not a problem now. She changed out of her gown in a daze of happiness and fell asleep completely forgetting about the circlet she left on top of his wardrobe.

It would stay there for any years to come.

Authors note:

Ok, so we are finally getting somewhere!

Idk if anyone picked up on it, but Legolas did kind of remember kissing Ilmare the year before, but he still thinks it was a dream. (A reviewer said something along the lines of that and I was surprised that they had guessed it!)

I decided to make elves more flirtatious than they would be in the books but whatever! I like them as this!

Okay, so next chapter serious stuff goes down for sure.

Don't forget to review! Tell me if I did a good job at the kissing scene!