A/N:

Disclaimer: some of the upcoming events might seem a little far fetched - all I can say is, remember there are more things in heaven and Middle Earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy.

The assumption always has been that all dialogues between elven characters where no outsider is present are done in Sindarin or Silvan elvish (though there is no special way to mark this in the story).

The mage Arothir looked upon the king warily. He had come as summoned, and did as he was bidden.

'Is this it?' Thranduil pointed at the flask the mage had placed on his desk.

'Indeed, my king. Nepenthe, concocted with water from the river Gûlduin itself. Seregon was added to increase the potency, and lissuin to lessen the aftermath of the effects.

'Good. What are the terms?'

'The bonded of the recipient must offer it, and it must be willingly taken if the spell is to work.'

'I see. Will any physical harm come to him?'

'A few days worth of weakness and confusion. I cannot say for certain, yet it is good to keep watch over the one affected.'

'I thank you for your aid.'

'Your Majesty?' the mage seemed to hesitate.

'Speak,' Thranduil asked tiredly, wanting this to be over. It was hard as it was.

'I must warn you. While there are no physical dangers, the fëa will suffer for the potion does not cut the bond. The one who drinks will have no memory of the other, but they will forever be plagued by visions and ache for that which is not there, never realizing why. They will not be able to form another bond. This is the price.'

The king sighed. 'I understand.' But it must be done. For our people.

'Is there anything else?'

'Nay, my king. Only that I would advise against it, for what it is worth.'

'Thank you for upholding the secrecy of this.'

'Your Majesty,' the mage bowed and was dismissed.

Thranduil knew what had to be done. With a heavy heart, the king paced from his study in search of the woman.

Nienor was returning from council with her host for tidings of Arnor. Of the three kingdoms in Arnor, two were on the brink of war with one another as disunity plagued their lands. The kingdom of Arthedain was on the brink of war with the neighboring Rhudaur. The fortress of Garolin, her home, resided in the former and needed support sorely if war broke. And then there were the tidings of the Enemy. Nobody knew why the number of orc and strange men from distant lands grew as the months went by. These hordes were merciless in their raids and a plague upon the people of Arnor, burning fields, attacking villages and frightening the populace.

Garolin needs our aid, and soon. She thought to bring this to Legolas next time they spoke. But first, their union had to be made official. As soon as possible, and if Ereldur would forgo his pride and realize this was for the best. With Garolin, his fortress and the elves united, the support would be great for Arthedain. Perhaps a truce could be struck with Rhudaur, so they could focus on driving the dark ones from their lands. They had all been united once.

Lost in her thoughts, the woman startled when she heard a voice from behind her.

'Lady Nienor.'

She turned around, and blinked in disbelief. The king was before her. She bowed her head uneasily.

'Your Majesty.'

The king regarded her airily for a moment. 'Pray join me in my study. I wish to speak with you.'

She knew she could not disobey Thranduil, as much as she dreaded whatever he had to say. Thus she nodded and proceeded to follow the king.

Reaching him and struggling to keep in step with his long strides, she dared a glance at his profile as they walked in silence. His jaw was set. What ever could he want of me? It pained her that the father of the being she most cared about in the world disliked her for her race and grudged their union. But such it was.

They reached their destination and he allowed her entrance. She flinched in spite of herself when the king closed the door behind them.

'You say you love my son, do you not.'

He wastes no time the woman thought uneasily, taken aback by the direct question.

'I do love your son', she replied, not a little coldly, 'your Majesty.'

'How do you see the rest of your lives? What do you see your future to be?' Nienor suddenly felt cornered, yet the king's stare left no room for argument, expectant of an answer.

'I see myself at his side.' She paused. 'I see a family', she said determinedly.

'But do you also see old age? Do you see fragility? Do you see death?'

'What are you implying, your Majesty?'

'Do you see these?' the king insisted, irked at her questioning him.

Nienor closed her eyes to steady herself, realizing where this was leading.

'I do.'

'Whose?'

'Mine.'

'And do you think it fair, in as much as you say you love my son, for him to die with you?'

'To die with-'

'My lady, do not insult us both by feigning surprise.'

'Your Majesty, I assure you, I do not understand your words,' she uttered, her eyes widening in confusion. The king regarded her for a few interminable moments.

'Has he never told you?' he asked, astonished. 'Then allow me to shed light upon that which my son apparently neglected to mention. You will die one day, yet he is immortal. That much is obvious. You will grow old and frail and perish. As for him, he will linger for your sake, but it will not be long before heartbreak and death take him as well. Your death will bring his own.'

Nienor could do nothing but shake her head at the words, paling.

'I cannot believe he would keep this from you, the fool!' the king exclaimed, frustration in his words. 'If you are truly bonded, grief will rip him of his own life after losing you.'

'He never told me,' the woman repeated as to herself, her eyes studying the patterns on the floor.

The king crossed his arms behind his back. 'Now that you know, will you consider if this is what you want to happen? Is this what you want to lead him into?'

Why did he not tell me?

'Child, my son has a destiny to lead his people. He is not meant to die. I ask of you, nay, I beg that you not curb his fate and condemn him.'

'I would do no such thing!'

The king approached her then and she felt heavy hands on her shoulders. She could barely stand the blinkless eyes pinning her, a stare of ages unnumbered. The same eyes she saw when looking at his son. Yet these eyes were cruel, determined. There was no love for her in them.

'I love him,' she then uttered to the floor, feeling the familiar sting of tears welling. She blinked them away.

This again. 'You love him enough to cut his life short? You would condemn him through your own selfishness?' he threw at her, anger lining his words.

'What would you have me say?' she choked as she raised her gaze to meet his once more.

'I want you to admit it is folly! Your tryst will cause the loss of faith in you for your people and hurt your name. It will cost me my son, and my kingdom an heir.'

She remained silent. Thranduil pressed on.

'Will you not spare his life?' he asked softer.

'He is my husband by your laws, how can I deny him? Not for anything would he ever accept such a thing!'

'This is the purpose of my seeking for you. There might be a way to remedy all of this. But I need your aid and consent, for it will not be easy. Somehow, between the two of you, I deem you the wiser.'

Nienor watched with dread as the king moved to lift a glass bottle from the nearby table. A flask, filled with what seemed to be an indiscernible dark liquid.

'This is the solution.'

The woman regarded the dark liquid distrustfully. What was this? Was it poison? Surely the king would not...he could not...

All of it was too much. Appalled, the woman took a step back. She wanted, she needed to speak to Legolas. Before the king could react, she gathered herself and bolted out the door, barely noticing the servants she almost hit on her way.

The prince had finished preparations for the next scouting expedition with his reports as well as the audience for the day with the human host. Tidings were grim. And then there was the matter of making their marriage known to both his people and hers. Time was scarce, thus he had to speak to Ereldur. He knew the man hated him fiercely, yet for Nienor he had to try.

He barely saw her before she nearly crashed into him from a side corridor.

'Nienor, what is the matter?' he uttered and worry took hold of him at seeing her disheveled state. He felt such anguish coming from her that he at once knew something was very wrong. She only looked at him, no answer forming on her lips. 'Nee, will you not tell me', he hedged, taking her by the shoulders. Yet when only a shaking of the head was his answer, he raised her in his arms as if she were a child and hastily paced towards his chambers. She posed no resistance at all as he carried her, seemingly becoming smaller in his embrace.

Closing the door and depositing her on her feet, he repeated his questions. She drew from him, wrapping her arms around herself as she went towards the bed. The elf followed her warily and sank to one knee facing her. He regarded her troubled face, and when she would not meet his eyes he reached and gently tilted her chin so she faced him.

'Why did you not tell me everything?' he heard her utter quietly.

'Concerning? Nee please, you are scaring me. What has passed? Is it Ereldur? If he has done anything I-'

'Nay. Why did you not tell me the full consequences of our bonding? Why did you not tell me about what would happen to you?'

The ellon closed his eyes as realization struck.

'That is not important now.'

'Not important-' she felt as if all breath had left her. 'You would make me the cause of your untimely death?'

'A lifetime with you is no more than I need. I know this. I feel it,' the prince added, taking one of her hands and bringing it to his chest. 'Who made you worry so?'

She did not reply, for fear of causing more strife between the ellon and his king. 'You are not meant to die! I cannot do this. I will not!' She met his gaze steadily and attempted to remove her hand, but the anguish present on his features was unbearable.

'You are my wife, mortal or no,' he said in a low voice which belied the distress within and the woman felt the grip on her hand tightening, so much that it was starting to hurt. 'I do not care for eternity if it is to be spent without you. Do you understand?'

The woman shook her head. 'I cannot let this pass.' The despair she felt suddenly from him left her breathless as the ellon sprang from his knees so fast she recoiled.

He started pacing through the room. 'To leave then, is that what you suggest? Is that what you lack the courage to say? To return to your fortress with your mortal lord and leave all this behind?' he threw as he stopped to face her. 'To live out your days a bird in a cage.'

'At least I would not bear the guilt of ending you. It was never my wish,' she said to the floor.

'And what about my wishes, Nienor?' he followed, descending to one knee in front of her again, his hands on her thighs. 'Let me ask you this: what would you have done, had I told you everything after our first night together?'

She buried her face in her hands. 'I do not know. Legolas please, why will you not relent to reason?'

'You are mine. I am yours. Do you remember the words?' his hands moved to rest on her own. She would not look at him. 'Do you?' he insisted.

How could she forget? She could not reject him. She was failing. Nienor felt his despondency, and even though she wanted to pull her hands away, she found she could not. The mysterious solution the king had presented to her suddenly came unbidden to mind.

'Do not worry so about what will not happen but for years to come' she heard the ellon say, a softer lilt to his voice.

He understood her apprehension. And never before had he wanted to be mortal, as much as he did now. When she said nothing, he continued. 'I shall seek and speak with Ereldur. Then we will make preparations to announce ourselves. Nee, this will be a good tiding for both my people and yours. Do you not see? An alliance stronger than this they could not hope for.'

She nodded, seeing the sense in his words. Yet the image of the flask would not disappear from her mind's eye.

Gûlduin = The Enchanted River which rose in the Mountains of Mirkwood, and flowed northwards in a great loop to meet the Forest River under the canopy of the trees of Mirkwood.