Emerald stirred awake, stretching her arms and legs luxuriously, feeling the warm velvety covers slide over them. Keeping her eyes closed, she vaguely wondered where she had gotten such soft bedclothes. She could sleep under these blankets for days!

As sleepiness receded, her awareness took over. Opening her eyes gradually, she found herself in a strange bed in a dark room, with glowing green orbs of light floating below the ceiling. Sitting up, she realised that she was in Nuada's room. It was the same as when she had last been there. She yanked the covers away and saw to her relief that she was fully clothed, and the bed appeared to have depressed only in the middle where she had lain. A shaky relieved laugh escaped her lips.

The closed dark cavern gave no indication of the time of day, and she wondered what the date could be. Wink had said that she and the prince had been gone for over a month, though it had hardly seemed more than a few hours that she had spent by the lakeside with the three elves. She wondered too, what had happened to Kalidren and Breanne, and whether they would be able to get back on their own. Thoughts of Hellboy and Liz crossed her mind. It was good to know that Carol was okay, but she wanted to make sure of it herself and not rely completely on Nuada's word.

Nuada had saved her, claiming that she was an elf, too. He had even gone out of his way to call on others to heal her from the injuries inflicted by those unearthly hounds. He had been so kind and patient while she questioned him about the events that had taken place. She had almost started to like him. Almost. But he had then revealed his old face by lashing out at that little girl who was just there picking fruit with her woody friend. Protesting his actions had resulted in her being thoroughly roughed up, and dragged back into this dank hole of a hideout. Her hand brushed over her bruised arm but she felt no pain, and was surprised to see it looking as normal as ever. At least Mr. Wink was nice enough to have given her a generous dinner but after all, it had been Nuada who had asked him to provide for her. Also, he had given up his bed for her use. "What kind of sick Elvish mind game is he playing?!" she thought furiously. She decided to wait until she discovered what information had led Nuada to believe she was an elf, and then she would look for a way to escape.

Getting up from the bed was harder than she had anticipated, as she didn't want to leave its soft warmth. The room was cold and she shivered, wondering if it would be okay to stay for a while longer in bed...Nuada's bed. Her thoughts of what Nuada and Wink might be up to, finally brought her to her feet, and she decided to go back towards the kitchen area. On approach, she heard grunts and thuds coming from the far-off entrance chamber. Edging slowly towards the noises, she stepped past the kitchen where she could hear something boiling sluggishly. Ignoring it, she made her stealthy way to the place that had once been her holding cell.

Nuada, bare to the waist and with lance in hand, was then executing a martial art training routine; weaving a lethal dance. Emerald stood transfixed, captured by the grace and deadliness of his movements. When he suddenly performed a high jump that sent him flying up to the ceiling, she let out a gasp. Nuada landed as lightly as a cat, with no more sound than that of his boots touching down on the stone floor. He remained crouched for a moment, his chest muscles rapidly expanding and contracting, his face hidden by the length of his hair dripping with sweat.

Emerald had enough training in martial arts to realise Nuada's immense power and skill. Not even the best human masters could match their moves with his in terms of speed, stamina or grace. She could feel the pulsating aura of strength emanating from him. Fear of discovery by the elf prince in such a state made her take a step back, but at the slight scrape of her shoes on the stone floor, he looked up. His eyes were aglow with anger and hate; the emotional drivers he often used to power his ruthless drills. When his gaze fell on her wide petrified eyes, something changed within him. He could feel the tension draining out of his body and he gradually relaxed his taut stance.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, "for intruding."

With a speed that could have almost equalled Nuada's, she turned and hurried away. Desperate to find Wink, she arrived at the kitchen and nearly burst out laughing at the sight that met her eyes. The troll, wearing a spotless white apron and the most tranquil of expressions, stood stirring the contents of a pot. She gave a false cough to hide her abrupt laugh and went up to him. "So these are his duties when he's not out there doing his prince's bidding, and being a big bad troll," she thought amusedly.

"Sleep well?" he grunted at her.

"Marvellously," she grinned, glad of his presence, for being alone with Nuada never ended too well for her.

Wink felt relieved to see her in good spirits. He invited her to take a seat at the kitchen table and served her a bowl of thick creamy porridge. He followed with a fresh loaf of bread, a bowl of butter, a jug of milk and a basket of apples. This homely display of Wink's hospitality made Emerald feel at ease. Spooning the porridge into her mouth, she saw him hovering at the edge of the table.

"This is really tasty, Mr. Wink," she said through the mouthfuls of food. "It feels like a long time since I've had such good home cooked meals, as yours." She hoped her compliments wouldn't be seen as injuring the warrior troll's vanity. Wink gave a hearty grunt and went back to stirring the pot.

When she had done eating, Wink brought her a large package wrapped in brown paper. Opening it, she found a pair of sleek black boots along with items of black clothing, and something red was also tucked inside. There were small tubs and jars in the parcel, too.

"For me?" she asked.

Wink grunted in assent. "Prince Nuada sent me out last night to buy these for you. It would make you more comfortable to have a change of clothes and a good wash."

"That's thoughtful of him," she said grudgingly. "Now I've got to pay for these. Plus, he did save my life from those monsters, so...I don't know...," she mused.

"Serve my meal, Mr. Wink." Nuada's voice came from the kitchen entrance. Emerald saw that he looked fresh and had already resumed his usual black attire. "Have you eaten, Emerald?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, wondering why she suddenly felt so acutely conscious of her unwashed, tangled hair and probable grimy face. "Thanks."

Feeling awkward under his politely interested inspection, she took up the package and left the kitchen. "The guy can go from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde within seconds!" she thought as she went off to the odd makeshift bathroom. It had no bathtub, but a large spout protruding from among the mass of brass pipes signified the showering area. She was pleasantly surprised to find that she could draw warm water from the spout.

The small jars turned out to contain soap and shampoo, which released a flowery fragrance into the room. Having never used such potions, she revelled in how smooth and clean it left her skin. She was sure that her hair would look almost as good as salon-treated with the way it felt in her hands.

Very refreshed, she stepped out of the shower and unpacked the clothes. There was a pair of black trousers tailored in a narrow cut to fit the shape of her legs, and a long black tunic slit up the sides almost to the waist. Last, she held up a long length of red silk sash. "He wants me to dress exactly like him!" she thought with an equal measure of amusement and annoyance. She was, however, grateful that he hadn't gifted her with a long flowing gown like the one she had seen worn by Princess Nuala. That would have been too formal, embarrassing and difficult to move about in. Among the clothes were sets of inner wears. Checking on the labels, she found that she couldn't read the script. Emerald suddenly envisioned Mr. Wink shopping in some sort of fae lingerie section, and laughed freely! Not to mention that he had successfully bought the correct sizes for her. She suspected that he had found everything somewhere in the Troll Market, but couldn't let go of the image that her mind had conjured.

The new clothing fit quite well, the fabric feeling soft and comfortable next to her skin. When it came to a method of tying the sash, she was lost. Nuada had a certain way of pleating and tucking the length of silk, which gave it a most elegant and regal fit. After struggling for a while to figure it out, she gave up and wrapped it around her waist several times to shorten it, and finished with a bow tied at her side. When she looked up into the cracked mirror, she suspected that a change had come over her features. Her eyes sparkled more brilliantly, and she studied them for a moment. "Possibly, too much black," she reflected.

Making sure that the magical green bean was concealed safely in the pocket of her pants, she exited the bathroom. Nuada looked up from his desk as she came within sight, his eyes skimming her over from head to foot, then continued his sketching of complicated diagrams of a mechanical arm. Emerald frowned but remained quiet.

"You don't seem satisfied with these clothes," he remarked.

"It's not the clothes, it's you," she wanted to say. Instead, she said, "I am not fond of wearing black."

"Why is that?" he asked, fixing his gaze on her.

"It makes me look pale, and that makes my eyes appear larger...brighter. People are not usually fond of my eyes," she replied drily.

"I find them beautiful," he said simply.

Emerald could only stare, too stunned by his blatant compliment. "Errr...thanks. Well, at least you supplied something that suits me, and not the sort of gowns that Elven women usually wear."

"You have not as yet acquired the grace to carry such fashion," Nuada declared in judgement.

Emerald glared at his widening smile. "Also that," he added, pointing at her waist, "is utterly ridiculous."

She scowled. "Yeah, well, I'm not used to dressing up like you!" As swiftly as Nuada sprang up from his chair, he was instantly in front of her. "What -" His fingers tugged at the sash and soon had it undone.

"Stop it!" she cried. She tried pushing him away, but he easily grabbed her around the waist and pulled her closer in. He wrapped the strip of fine cloth around her, folding one edge, then crimping it together with another, forming it into an elegant interwoven red girdle. Still annoyed, she watched his fingers move deftly over the pleats of silk.

Nuada stepped back to appraise his handiwork and smiled lightly in appreciation. Emerald liked it too, but held her frown.

"You do not like this style? It quite suits you," he smirked.

Emerald gave out a long sigh. "It's not that. Could you just maintain some boundary?"

"Boundary?" He repeated it slowly, as if tasting the sound of the word on his tongue.

"Yes. You can't just get so close to me without my permission."

Nuada displayed no sign of discomfiture, but his eyes narrowed a fraction. Before he could say anything, Emerald pressed on. "Will you show me what you found at my house? I really want to see whether the journal was actually written by my father."

"Yes. You may read it while I work to restore the operation of Mr. Wink's retractable hand. His mishap with the red demon has shattered it beyond repair." He scowled to tell it.

"His name's Hellboy," she informed coldly.

"A ridiculous name," he sneered, "for a demon prince."

Looking past Emerald's glare, he went to a closet and brought out a thin journal. "I trust this will occupy you until I return," he said, handing her the book.

Emerald opened it and knew immediately that it belonged to Alasdair Bruttenholm, the lines having been written in his neat hand. She closed it shut.

Nuada tried to remain patient. "What displeases you now, Emerald?"

"I'll read it after you've gone. I don't think I can, with anyone watching. Even though a lot of people know what I am and where I came from, it is still a very personal matter."

"As you please." He gathered up the parchment worksheets from his desk and as he was leaving, instructed, "Should you need anything, ask Mr. Wink."

"Nuada!" she called after him.

His head whipped back towards her with an admonition ready to erupt. No subject could address him without his imperial title ; not even one unaccustomed to Elvish royal etiquette.

"Thank you..." she whispered.

Nuada's retort died on his lips as his eyes met the surge of emotion in her tear-glistened green depths.


Author' note: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! Makes me very happy and write faster!

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