Author's note: It lives! Wow…what a break! Sometimes things go awry and sometimes the real world darkens but it all passes. No matter what, I've had this story in the back of my mind and believe me there are some chapters left! If you're still reading, you are not forgotten and I treasure your reviews!

This is going to be a linking chapter, introducing a new character and doing some plot development before we head back to Tauriel's POV and see what she's been up to since the last cliffhanger. (Sorry to keep you waiting still!)

Arthoniel POV

'You are a daughter of Gondor, you should be proud of such an honour.' Arwen reached out a slender hand to brush her daughter's long ebony locks that glistened in the morning sun.

Arthoniel batted her hand away and stepped back from her Mother's embrace.

'Just because you gave up immortality for Ada does not bind me to do the same!'

The tips of Arthoniel's pointed ears were pink with her temper as she met her Mother's calming sapphire gaze. She knew she had overstepped saying that but she did not care!

Arthoniel slid her eyes away for she did not want to be calmed and stormed past her Mother and out the gauzy curtains of the Queen's chamber into the clear blue sky. Her Mother said the sky colour matched Arthoniel's eyes, which for some reason made her even more cross.

Arwen POV

'My heart, wait!' Arwen called to her eldest daughter from her billowing chamber on the highest level of the White City, yet she did not chase her down. Elves were nothing if not patient and Arwen, had waited thousands of years for this life. Arthoniel resembled her so much in appearance but her spirit was unique. A gentle knocking and suddenly Aragorn was cradling Arwen from behind.

'We knew this day would come, meleth nín. Our daughter has chosen her path, even if we all do not admit it.'

'Why must I forever be parted from my family?' Arwen whispered, turning her gaze from the empty archway to her soulmate.

Aragorn kissed her midnight hair. His own silver locks, sliding over her own.

'Arthoniel must walk her own life. We will never be parted from her, even should the Sundering Seas lay between us.'

Arwen sighed. 'That is what I fear.'

Arthoniel POV

Arthoniel was furious. She marched through her Mother's private chambers and down the white steps towards her own rooms, barrelling past a hobbit handmaiden carrying five loaves of fresh bread, uncaring that she was being impolite.

Why is my Mother so difficult? I am no elfling or mortal child! I am the Princess of Gondor and if I want to visit the abandoned lands of Rivendell and Lothlorien I have every right to do so! She is a highborn elf, the descendent of Luthien, child of Lord Elrond, Granddaughter of Galadriel! I am from the same mighty lineage and I have the right to know my kin!

I am elf-kind, I am elf-kind, I choose my own fate, I will not die….like my family…I cannot bear it.

Caught in her own tumultuous thoughts, Arthoniel did not realise she had descended past her own chambers and down into one of the gardens planted by the wood elves. It was a circular white stone enclosure on one of the upper levels of Minas Tirith. Not the largest elven garden, but Arthoniel's favourite. It was a medicinal herb garden and Arthoniel could proudly say the names of each plant. Just to prove she could and to take her mind off things, Arthoniel pretended to straighten her already perfect white silken gown whilst actually checking that she was alone in the garden before slipping off her shoes.

The she began to dance through the herbs, her bare feet light upon the warm stones weaving between the plants, pointing at each plant as she named it.

The motions calmed her temper and the swirls and leaps of her dance made her feel at one with the plants. She called them by their elven names, for Arthoniel chose to be an elleth.

She was just beginning to run out of plants when mid-twirl a flash of green and silver caught her eye.

Thranadir, the woodland prince, was spying on her from behind moonflowers.

Angry and slightly embarrassed that he had seen her dance, Arthoniel paused and gave her most regal narrow eyed stare to the green eyed Prince.

'Ithilien is that way.' Arthoniel pointed to the East, over the garden wall.

Thranadir glanced to the East and then emerged from behind the flowers.

'My Lady, please do not stop.'

The sun glanced off of Thranadir's silver hair.

It looks like white gems…

Arthoniel made a noise in her throat and stepped back, snapping out of her strange thoughts.

Since when was Thranadir so…

She tossed her midnight locks and sniffed, looking away, trying to be haughty.

'Arthoniel, your ears are pink, why are you blushing?'

Enraged at her own embarrassment on her thoughts about white gems in the sun, Arthoniel glared back at the young Prince, which only made him give a sunshine smile back.

'Go home elfling. Before I send you home.' Arthoniel turned away.

Thranadir blinked, tilted his silver head and then smiled once more. 'Elfling? I am older than you, hîril nin and…' Thranadir edged closer before Arthoniel could back up. 'Taller than you too.'

Arthoniel glared cold fire at the sindarin Prince, then stalked out of the garden without another word.

Thranadir POV.

Thranadir gazed after Arthoniel's retreating form, watching her midnight hair sway slightly as she moved. He felt something in his chest that he had not felt before with other elleths. He had not seen Arthoniel for quite a while, since they really were elflings, but now she made strange things happen to his pulse.

He did not notice his Father's return from his meeting with the few woodland elves visiting in the city.

'I see that you have become reacquainted with Arthoniel, ionneg.' Legolas frowned down at his son, who was now as tall as his chest height. 'Why did she look so angry?'

'Well, I think she was angry about how charming she found me Ada, though she will not admit it.'

Legolas chuckled and looked down at his son, bemused at this development. Thranadir looked back up at him with Tauriel's mischievous glint in his forest green eyes.

Legolas nodded his silver-blond head sagely and said very solemnly, 'You know, when I first trained with your Mother, she tried to knife me. Expect no less of Aragorn's daughter.'