Thank you for the continued support, reviews really help me gauge how this is all going! Here is the next chapter, so; please read, review and enjoy! J

The mighty King walked to his chamber in earnest. He great disliked Haldir, he was too much calm and influenced by the Lord and Lady for a Silvan elf, but more than that, he took great interest in the girl. Thranduil knew she must leave, as much for her own sake, as wanting to disparage his own foolish emotions. Entering his chamber, he removed the outer layer of his tunic, moving to the center of the room before he saw her. Like a ghost she lay, still and quiet, curled as child would on the blankets and pillows, her red hair slowly drying, curling as it did so. He stilled, his eyes absorbing everything he saw, as if it was a fleeting moment that would not last.

Stepping forward, he placed tunic on the chest, coming to stand by the side she occupied, her chest rose and fell in peace, her pale skin glowing against the colours. He leaned over her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, stroking the head of the creature that slept so soundly. She clutched something to his chest, and he saw it was a few strains of his own hair. The icy eyes that watched her slowly thawed, her shoulders were as broad as her hips and divided by a slender waist. Her skin could be seen easily, the curve of her lower back, her thighs; strong and long, yet soft to touch in ways most tender men could not even appreciate. He sat lightly beside her, placing a hand on the other side of her, leaning on it so he could watch the gentle curl of her lips form a smile in his mind.

Thranduil found himself within her peacefulness, the calm that settled seemed to pacify his restless mind. His right hand touched her cheek softly, this ghost was surely a dream, a faraway dream he had concocted to fill the void in his soul. For all his years, he had not felt something like or as strong, all caused by a little blind child that wandered within his wood. Running his hand onto her neck, he felt a growl in his throat, her own smell was mixed with the ones of the room, her skin was soft and his hand fit within the boundaries of her curves as his hand traced the shape of her skin.

"Be not a dream," She whispered, her voice soft like a summer breeze as it made its way from the water to the land. "Be it, pray, do not wake me." Slowly she raised a hand, it reached out to touch the ghost that lingered within her mind, and she felt the air move slowly around her, warmth and temper filled her. The King leaned in, his lips touching her shoulder, his smell flooding within her as hers did much the same. Her fingers curled and touched the silky strands of hair, her arm resting gently on his back as if he would break if she placed weight on him. His lips moved to her neck, and the warrior King seemed to vanish into something tender, like a dove. Moving her right hand to his neck, she felt the strands of hair she clutched fall, landing on the bed as she felt the smooth skin, its warmth and alluring call.

His own sapphire eyes closed, her fingers running down his neck to his chest, the delicate touch sent waves to his heart, and it beat in such rapid succession. The pain of separation lingered on, and he swept her into his arms like a giant lifting a small stone, her dress seemed to billow about her as she sat up, this creature within his arms, her hair surrounding them as her head became nestled within his neck, her hands both on his head. They stayed, a pause in time making passion build, the fire growing with them both until the flame would not be drowned out. Opening his eyes slowly, he lowered his chin just as she opened her own jeweled eyes meet his gaze with her own, the flame reflected in their eyes. Bringing a hand to her cheek, he brought his lips to hers, a soft tender passion there, and she returned the gesture and the feeling. The beating of their hearts seemed to fill the room as the two lovers entered point with no turning back, a moment of binding.

Holding her, he stood, his feet touching the floor as her own did, their lips leaving one another. The white dress seemed to float away, following the directions of his hands, his garments seemed to dissolve under her touch. His eyes never left her own, two jewels shining in the night as he stepped closer once again, bending slightly and wrapping a hand around her waist, lifting her up once more. She kissed as he did so, her legs fastening around him as he moved to the center of the bed. He placed her head gently on the pillows, his lips finding ways to make her shudder as he placed his weight on her; his warmth filled her soul as their hearts seemed to steady. His muscles seemed to move under her touch, their bodies writhing together for an age, fueling the flame.

As they made love, there was no tension, no fear, but two hearts whose rhythm matched entirely. Where once he was fierce, he was tender, causing sensations she never know were possible. His skin felt every movement she made, each touch seemed to make him growl, his senses filled with pleasure he had not truly felt before. When they joined, there was no pain, and the act was complete, the fire burned hotter and brighter with each movement. His eyes bore into her own, listening to her heart and the breaths escape her lips while his fingers encased her own, or became tangled in her hair. As she watched him, she saw his eye lids flutter as the end became near, and she found her hands on his back, moving into his hair as they found their breaths stop, an unknown movement ripped through them.

As they lay there, trying to steady their hearts, their minds were calm. Wiping a tear from his face, she touched her nose with his, her eyes reflecting back what she felt for him. He smiled, it was soft and tender while his heart fluttered about like a tiny bird, and she felt a tear fall from her eyes. She not had seen him smile since her sight had come clear, it was such a sight to behold. He moved, his body shifting to the side, his hands grasping blankets and bringing them over the lovers. The King drew her close to him, covering her in blankets, her small hand on his face as they settled within the depths of the bed.

Morning came and the dream had ended, the King awoke with the girl in his arms, their skins, smells and dreams were each other's. As the sun rose within his mind, he knew the laws were certain, he was bound to her, by marriage. They would need a ceremony, but regardless of anything else, they were each other's. By Valar, there was no escaping it, even if this child did not understand, it was so. Thranduil knew she must still leave, even if it was to Rivendell and back, she had to learn about the world more so. Yet he pushed the thought of her departure to the back of his mind, how could he explain what this act meant, the bonds it carried and the duties she would now have. This creature, would she really be Princess to his lands? Thranduil touched her gently, such a dream it had been, a force so strong that death could not break it. He would treasure it, this memory when they joined for the first time, all acts of merging now done.

The mighty elf kissed her forehead as she stirred softly, the emerald eyes watched him quietly, a soft smile on her face as she touched his lips gently. "Pray, what type of ghost appears before me?"

"There is no ghost, little bird." Thranduil drawled softly, touching her cheek, "Nor a dream." Her smile widened, her arms going around his torso and she kissed him softly.

"You do not jest," She whispered as she pulled away, reopening her eyes. "It is my Lord Thranduil."

"It is that which makes you call me respectfully, once I have truly made you my own." He jested, and she blushed as she watched him.

"I do not believe you would have been so taken with me if I had not shown I could resist you." She replied and he smiled once more, his sapphire eyes glistening.

"What shall I do with such a child," He asked, propping himself up on an arm as he let his fingers roam. "When she crawls into my arms like a flightless bird?" He touched her cheek, and she leaned her head against his arm, her fingers playing with his hair. "A scream in the darkness brought this bird to me, injured she rejected me and injured still she began caged with my mind."

She watched him carefully, "It was you, who secured my rescue?" He answered her with his calmness, his soul telling her it was so and she smiled softly and touched his face with a sheepish grin. "Blind I might have been, but your likeness within my mind gave me strength, and I was not afraid."

"And now they shall call you Princess." He drawled, his fingers tracing the lines of her stomach and her eyes flickered with surprise.

"Why, pray?"

"It is the custom," He said softly, his eyes reassuring, "Marriage is not a vow here, but the joining of two bodies and souls. By Valar, we are one. Here you shall remain until age has taken you from me." Her eyes narrowed and her smiled faded.

"I do not,-" She started, the story seemed to fade about in her mind. "-possess such a trait." He turned his head, waiting for her to explain.

"Adar (father)," Legolas called, opening the door too soon after knocking. The elf froze, his eyes seeing and understanding flooded him with both surprise and alarm. The King turned his head, his eyes icy for the intrusion, the secret would out before the day. "There is a message from a scout, of Laketown." Thranduil took a breath, preparing to speak as Eroiwn came up behind the Prince, his eyes seeing the clothing of a woman within the chamber.

"Can this not wait," The King drawled, his body shifting to protect the creature who was about to be exposed. He sat up, to face them, his broad chest and muscles covered by his hair. "I am sure we already expect the outcome."

"I think you do not" Legolas said, stepping further inward, seeing the red hair and flashing his father a look. "The dragon has been killed." Thranduil's eyes widened slightly, a task so near impossible completed. "The dwarves may yet be alive, we do not know." Handing his father a robe, the other elf stood, placing the remaining blankets on his lover as he encased himself.

"We shall speak of this within the hall, I shall attend within minutes. Leave me." Thranduil drawled, Eroiwn bowed and retreated while Legolas did not budge, seeing the girl as she sat up, clutching blankets to her chest as she looked from father to son, bowing her head to Legolas. Thranduil watched her and she looked at him with expectancy of some form. "Legolas, leave me." The elf turned and briskly walked away, shutting the door as he did so.

"I should go," She said, her voice unsure, "My chamber is not far."

"Remain here." He said, his voice strong but soft as he dressed, and she watched him, admiring his strength and beauty. He caught her gaze and approached her as she stood from the bed, a blanket around her. "Do remain." He drawled, "Imίdel, I shall return." He kissed her, and the hungry between them returned. "Pray do not dress, or I shall be greatly displeased." He said as broke the kiss, walking to the door and leaving, the air seemed to chill without him, but she smiled, sitting on the bed as she waited.