Finally! This is a bit of a filler, so it may not be written very well, but it has some Thranduil/Hermione moments! And sorry about the wait - I had a LOT of Christmas parties to attend.

Chapter Twenty-One:

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"Courting. Not really something that was on my To-Do list when I got back." I blinked slowly at the small bouquet of wildflowers I had found in front of my tent that morning. They were freshly-picked, and not the slightest bit wilted; whoever had sent them hadn't settled for anything other than perfection. It would have been touching, the whole "secret admirer" thing, if I hadn't immediately been told who sent them and why.

"Yep, Pup!" Sirius grinned, a mischievous glint in his stormy eyes. "So...when's the wedding?"

"Sirius! I don't even think I like him! I should be asking you when you and Tauriel are getting hitched!"

Sirius held up a finger, a warning look on his face. "Too far, kiddo. That's actually love, if you haven't noticed!"

"She thinks that you're a dog!"

"So?! This King Thrandy knows that you turn into a killer wolf thing!"

"Yes, but he also knows that I'm human! And I don't like him!" Sirius grinned so broadly that I was sure that his face would split.

"Denial isn't just a river in Utah."

"Egypt!"

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I hadn't known what to make of the gift. The flowers had become overbearingly common, with Sirius - in dog form - acting as a messenger, carrying them to me at least five times a day with a wagging tail and teasing expression. I woke up every sunrise to flowers being shoved in my face, carefully placed one aside as I ate, then again at lunch, and dinner, and then sunset. They were actually becoming a bit...pleasant. I hated that I felt that way, but I found myself smiling as each one was dropped beside me. But now...

"Exactly how desperate is that elf?" The words were near-silent, barely a breath of wind that escaped my lips, but the massive animal that had been tethered outside of my tent turned its head towards me, snorting. I found myself shaking my head in amazement and backing up as the creature went back to grazing, its reins drooping down its neck and the leather of the saddle creaking slightly.

A...what was it, exactly? It looked like an elk, but...larger. Did it still have the same name if it was larger than a horse? I didn't care at the moment; all I thought about for more than a fleeting second was that Thranduil had given me a giant elk...deer...thing. And I knew it was him! The proof was in the small bundle of flowers that was tucked neatly into the elk's bridle!

I stood stock-still for a moment, and then started forward with a sigh. The elk watched me emotionlessly, though there was a glimmer of intelligence in its eyes, and I noted that it had no horns, making it look like a gigantic doe. I raised a hand and carefully set it on the elk's shoulder. Its fur was coarse, but warm, and I ran my hand along it as I edge to stand next to its head, removing the bouquet from its bridle.

I just stared at the creature for a moment, jaw slack in disbelief, and then shook my head, turning to go back into my tent.

"Hermione?! What exactly happened while I was unconscious?" I smiled, looking over my shoulder. Belegeron stood between the trees in which the elven camp was currently situated, leaning on a crutch. The stump of his leg was painfully obvious, with his prosthetic tucked under his arm. He claimed that it made what remained of his leg ache, but I thought that he just liked showing off the injury. It was literally unheard of for an elf to lose a limb, and one of the few things he took pride in was his leg - or lack thereof - and how he lost it.

"A...courting gift, I think." My smile grew a little as Belegeron's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

"A courting gift? But that means...that means..." I waited silently, wondering exactly how well he was going to take this.

"You're courting King Thranduil!"

Now it was my turn for my eyes to try and escape my head. I shook said head rapidly, nearly falling over my own boot-clad (finally!) feet. "Nonono! Just...no. He is trying to court me, and I am not giving in."

"But..." I felt like crying and laughing at the same time. Belegeron, for all his battle-pride, was still the same nervous scribe I had met what seemed like eons ago, even if it had only been a few weeks, and he just couldn't imagine me turning down a king. He had on a look that I immediately dubbed the Puppy-Dog Face, his eyes wide and disbelieving, but pleading at the same time. "He wants to court you, 'Mione!"

I sighed and shook my head, smile gone. Belegeron had apparently been spending too much time with Sirius, who I had introduced to him a few days ago, before the gifts started. Where else would he get my nickname from? It simply wasn't in his nature to want to shorten things...unless he was trying to get his way. I could see it in his eyes.

Sweet Merlin, he was helping Thranduil!

"Come on!" He smiled in a convincing way, pointing through the trees to the royal tent. "Just talk to him! And..." A thoughtful look crossed his pale face. "It might be a nice touch to ride the elk there."

I felt trapped. If I ran into the tent, I couldn't lock the entrance like a door, and Belegeron would probably still find a way to get me to talk to the Elvenking...like using his unexpected strength to haul me out of the tent, toss me over his shoulder, and march to his royal highness. Or just put me on the elk and spur it towards the tent. The possibilities were endless and maddeningly possible. The pouting face before me was the face of a master conspirator.

"Fine!" I threw my hands up in the air, stomping a foot on the ground. To its credit, the elk didn't shy away or even jump. It just gazed at me in a slightly patronizing way for a short moment before shifting its attention back to its meal. "I'll go and talk to him! Talk, and nothing more! C'mere, Bambi."

"Bambi?" I scowled and whirled to face Sirius, who had seemingly melted out of the early morning shadows. "Aw, someone found her pet! And here are your flowers, Pup!"

I shoved the flowers away, making sure that they hit the older wizard in the face. "Buzz off, Black. I'm going to talk to him."

"Okay. So I can have your tent, since you'll be sharing with Thrandy?"

"Sirius, it is far too early to be up! I'll thank you kindly not to make me murder you."

I swung onto Bambi's back, clutching the saddle horn for dear life as the animal began to move with no direction whatsoever. The elk had a very narrow back, which was both vastly uncomfortable and unstable, and I found myself hanging sideways from its saddle not even halfway to the large tent that the king occupied.

The guards outside the tent flap were perhaps the most embarrassing part for me. They watched me strangely the entire time that Bambi trotted to the tent, and then as I tried - and failed, I might add - to dismount, with one foot in the stirrup on the left side of the saddle while I slumped to the right, very nearly touching the ground. It came as a relief when, with a snap, the stirrup broke off and I fell to the warming ground. Spring was close - I could feel it in my bones. One of the great advantages of being a wolf.

I cursed under my breath as I stood, crossing the small clearing in a few strides. The guards moved to block my way with their pikes.

"State your name and business."

"Hermione Granger. To see-"

"Let her in." Against my will, my heart faltered in my chest at the sound of Thranduil's voice, and then picked up its pace dramatically as the guards removed their pikes and nodded to me as I walked past. I brushed aside the tent flaps and entered.

It was the exact same as when I had had dinner with him after the Battle. There was only one lantern, sitting on a table, which was set with food, except that it was now breakfast. Thranduil stood beside the chair facing the entrance, as if he'd just stood up, and I had to keep from laughing a bit hysterically as I noticed a smudge of what could only be syrup at the corner of his mouth. He smiled, looking a tiny bit relieved as he strode towards me.

"Lady Hermione. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He stopped a few feet from me, thankfully. My heart was already threatening to beat out of my chest as it was.

"I...I found your gifts." Merlin, I hoped my voice wasn't shaking as badly as I thought it was...

Thranduil didn't seem to notice or care, however. He took a small step forward. "I hope that they were to your liking? A little bird told me that you like flowers."

Little bird, my foot. More like a little moron either named Sirius or Belegeron. I smiled nervously, trying to summon up the righteous anger I had felt as I rode to the tent. "Yes...they were all very pretty." Oh, Hermione. Why wasn't I telling him off, saying that I had no interest in being courted now, thank you very much, and that I was fed up with gifts, up to and including Bambi. Wait...

Had I actually named it?!

"And your most recent surprise? I noticed that the horses are not particularly at ease in your presence, given your shapeshifting nature." He smiled softly at me, and I tried to stop the rush of...something that flooded me, making me smile back just a bit more broadly. Had he really noticed that about me?

No! Stop it, Hermione! You didn't come over here to flirt back and forth with a king...

My mouth moved of its own accord. "Thank you very much. Its intelligent, much more than others I've seen."

"Ah...then it is like you."

I stared at him. "Excuse me?"

Thranduil looked slightly nervous now. I had to keep from raising my eyebrows at the strange look it gave him. "It is like you...because it is so much smarter than others of its kind."

I blinked, nodding slowly. "Um...right...I suppose."

Thranduil moved aside, gesturing to the table. "Would you like something to eat, Lady Hermione? It seems to be too early for you to have eaten as of yet."

"Sure." I was silently cursing as I sat down in the unoccupied chair, as Thranduil had reclaimed his own seat. This felt strange. Something was about to happen, I could feel it. Nevertheless, I accepted the apple I was given, and then the pancake - this world had pancakes, apparently, and syrup, too - and I was already half done when he began to speak.

It wasn't a story, like that of Beren and Luthien, or the blatant confession I had been treated to at the refugee camp. It was simply talk, about what was currently happening, how much longer the provisions would last in the warmer weather, and even a few questions about Belegeron. My friend had become famous enough for word of the amputation to have already spread as far as his home in Lothlorien, so it was no surprise that the king he was supposed to obey during his visit knew about the scribe's elvenly unheard of handicap.

"Yes, he's doing okay." I said for the umpteenth time, finishing up my pancakes. "He likes to walk around with crutches instead of his prosthetic, but otherwise, you wouldn't even know he was hurt." Wasn't that the overstatement of the year. Belegeron could still hold a sword, and at least jog, but he couldn't run, fight properly, or even walk without the painfully loud crunch of either his crutches or his prosthetic. He seemed to be fine mentally, though, as he had begun to crack jokes about not losing his hand, as that would apparently "put him out of a job."

"It is amazing, what you and the scribe did. A battle for the legends, to be certain. I would have wished to see it unfold, and not be in the ruins of Dale at the time." I felt much more at ease at this point. Good. No romantic advances in the past half hour. I might be in the clear...

Thranduil and I both reached for an apple at the same time. The same apple, too. He looked up at me, slowly, like I might run away again, and spoke quietly.

"You have beautiful eyes."

No. I was most certainly not in the clear.

I froze, trying to understand why I wasn't completely panicking, like last time. Why did I even feel flattered? I was just so confused... And no, I did not like him!

I smiled shakily at him, trying not to show the panic I was feeling. I could have slapped myself for what I said next. "So do you."

For the last five minutes before I left, everything I said could somehow be taken as a flirt. I was blushing beet red as I left, Thranduil having been called to settle a dispute in the camp, and Bambi even seemed amused as I walked to it and hauled myself into the saddle. I hung my head as I heard Sirius singing quietly in the trees above my tent.

"Thrandy and 'Mione, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-o...I misspelled kissing."

I quickly dismounted, tying Bambi to a tree and hurrying inside the cover of my tent. Oh, Merlin. Why was I so flustered?

The answer might as well have presented itself to me on a silver platter. I hadn't planned to court anyone in Middle Earth, but I could deny it now.

I had a crush on King Thranduil of Mirkwood.

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Dangit. I had something that I was going to put here, but...I forgot it. I don't know about the rest of you, but it is 1:05 am over here, and I didn't notice it until now.