Hello! I am alive and well, and present this chapter as an end of January gift. Something a little different - enjoy.

Legolas

"Sit, my son," the king intoned, waving a bejewelled hand in the air. "Drink."

The prince obeyed, setting his quiver carefully on the ground and lowering onto the bench, taking a long drink from the glass before addressing the back of the silhouette standing at the balcony. "How are you, father?"

"Well enough. Better now that my bickering captains have taken themselves elsewhere." Thranduil turned away from the forest to face his son, robes shimmering in the morning sun. "How was your expedition?"

Legolas grimaced, rolling his neck. "The good news or the bad?"

"Surprise me," deadpanned Thranduil.

"The last incident at the border was no anomaly," Legolas began, leaning forwards to brace his forearms on his thighs. "There are most definitely more of them out running the plains, but the degree of organisation is unclear. They are significant enough to warrant dealing with, but not quite significant enough to be alarmed."

"And the good news?"

Legolas shrugged. "Not quite related, but the newest cohort of elflings are old enough to enter training. I am to make the rounds soon."

"Only after you are sufficiently rested," his father commented mildly, turning back to rest his hands on the rough stone of the balcony. "What would you advise me to do about this, prince?"

Legolas wavered. The request was remarkably candid, after months of backroom dealings and veiled negotiations. The fine line stretched between Greenwood's quarrelling factions suddenly became a touch more perilous as he stared at his father's back, absently noting the way his royal cloak pooled upon the marble. "In all honesty, father, I must agree with Lord Candor's position. This is becoming a military matter, and we should address it as such."

The king took a sip of wine. "I am not surprised. My son has always been a warrior at heart." A pause. "But I hear you have been doing quite well as a politician, have you not?"

Legolas's heart was hammering in his throat. "I learned from the best."

There was a hint of a smile on his father's face as he turned, beckoning with a hand. "Join me, Legolas."

Greenwood stretched for miles into the horizon, a vibrant emerald canopy dappled with sunlight. Legolas leaned forward over the balcony, feeling the breeze brush past his face and into his hair.

"You have been honest with me, my son, and I owe you the same. I must also concede that I unfortunately agree with the position of my errant lordlings, and have for some time."

Legolas's head snapped up. "Then why- "

"A little patience, Greenleaf, I am not finished." Thranduil held up a hand. "My hold on this land is slipping, Legolas, you know this. But perhaps you do not know quite how precarious my grip is. A concession here would be fatal."

"Lord Candor -"

"- is the most powerful lord in the land. He controls troops, land, merchants' guilds, resources, wealth. Our families have long been entwined in a mutually beneficial relationship. You may not remember, but his younger brother was your tutor once." The king's gaze sharpened, turning west. "Vallador's death meant that the loss of a mediating hand over Lord Candor – the most ambitious ellon in Greenwood, and the only one with the means to act upon his desires. Do you understand?"

Legolas's lips set in a stubborn line. "The people would not take his leadership over yours, especially if you are set on the same goal of eradicating the threat."

"But we are not set on the same goal, Legolas." A hint of frustration crept into Thranduil's tone for the first time as he glanced down at his son and heir, fingers drumming against the bannister. "I want a safe Greenwood, contained within our lands. Lord Candor seeks a powerful one, capable of wielding influence over all of Middle Earth. I did not want this small issue of orcs at the border to become so needlessly complicated, but it is beyond my hands now."

For a few moments, neither father nor son spoke, the former staring into the distance and the latter gazing up at the sky. "What is there to do, then?" Legolas ventured finally, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

"Persevere," Thranduil shrugged, "and hope for the best." His quicksilver blue eyes caught Legolas's, sparking with intensity. "I do not intend on losing this fight, Legolas. You are my heir, and you are the only one I will have sitting my throne."

Legolas looked away. "I know, father."

Something softened in the king's gaze as he reached out to rest a hand on Legolas's shoulder, the touch gentle but firm. "I am sorry. Your mother would have combed the skies for a way to rid you of the burden, but I cannot."

"I know my duty," Legolas met his father's gaze, shoulders tense.

"I know you do," Thranduil responded softly. "She would be so proud of who you have become, Legolas." He drifted to the side of the balcony to pour another glass of wine, offering it to the prince alongside an abrupt shift in conversation. "Do you know of the lady Rhoslyn?"

Reeling, Legolas managed to make himself take of a sip of the wine. Ashryn's mother. "Lord Candor's late sister in law?"

"Indeed," Thranduil pondered. "One of our finest cavalry officers. She died in combat on the Gladden Fields, and Vallador fell retrieving her body. Did you know that?"

He did not. Legolas remembered with a painful wrench the way Ashryn had reacted when he accused her in his anger of failing to understand mortality, the way something splintered in her eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

Thranduil cocked his head, a little bemused. "Why do you think?"

Suddenly uncomfortable, Legolas found himself unable to hold his father's gaze as ghostly fingers brushed past his ears. "If this is about my –" He faltered.

"Courtship?" His father suggested.

"Friendship," Legolas finished firmly, "with their daughter…"

"Since when did you learn to be coy?" Thranduil remarked, almost smiling.

Legolas nearly blushed. "I took a course concerning political intrigue."

"She ran circles around you in all your classes," his father teased, "do you recall? You once threw a book at her."

Yes, Legolas remembered, mortified. "No," he replied. The two stood in silence for a bit longer, each taking drinks from their glasses. "She is not on good terms with Candor," Legolas felt strangely complied to say, glancing at his father.

"Do not look to me for approval here, Legolas," Thranduil said smoothly, drinking deep. "In my experience, the heart cares little for bloodlines. Now, don't you have some elfling mischief to supervise?"

"Are you dismissing me, father?" Legolas raised an eyebrow.

Thranduil looked down, clapping his son on the shoulder. "I would not dare, prince Legolas. You made your own appointments, I am only holding you to your own standards. In fact, I have detained you for too long already."

Legolas set his glass down on the bannister, sketching a short bow. "Thank you, father."

"Good day, Legolas," Thranduil responded softly, turning back over his realm and merging the remnants of his son's glass with his own.

Legolas was well accustomed to the way elves parted way for him in the palace halls, but weeks out in the forests with only fellow soldiers for company highlighted the deference to an almost uncomfortable extent. His father's words rang in his ears as he ducked into side passages to avoid the crowds, so dazed that he barely registered the approaching raised voices just around the corner.

"… not see the way he looked at me, Cass? Are you so blind?"

"Don't take it so personally. He has more than just you or me on his plate -"

"Blind and naïve, I expected better. Or did I?"

"Stop being like this, Ashryn. I'm tired of playing messenger between the two of you. He tried to speak to you about it, but you wouldn't listen."

"Don't turn this on me."

"Ouch, don't do that. This is newly tailored."

"Stop whinging. I don't even have weapons out yet."

Legolas rounded the corner, boots soundless against the ground, hands clasped behind his back. "My lady. Captain."

She was dressed in hunting leathers, a green cloak clasped at her neck and trailing on the floor. Legolas felt a strange twinge in his chest, remembering how his fingers had caught in strands of her hair when he draped the fabric over her sleeping form. She walked with no discernible limp, golden eyes bright, a hand tucked into the crook of Cassian's elbow.

"Legolas," Ashryn greeted with a smile that hit him right in the gut, stepping forwards. He caught her gently around the elbows, leaning down to press a light kiss to her cheek before letting her go, letting his gaze drift over her head to where Cassian stood, somehow gaunter than he remembered.

"My prince," Cassian greeted with a cordial enough nod, but the tension instantly crackled to life in the still air even as Legolas returned the greeting. The dark haired ellon had clearly not forgotten Legolas's threats, and Legolas himself could still fill the spike of rage that had flared when Cassian accused him of harming the elleth before him.

"Where have you been?" Ashryn questioned, still lingering close enough to him that Legolas caught a whiff of jasmine from her hair, head tilted.

Legolas took a careful step back, noting the way Cassian's face had darkened ever so slightly. "Patrolling the border, my lady. I returned at dawn – there are elflings to train."

Ashryn frowned. "Oh," she responded, sounding almost hurt.

"I am sorry," Legolas explained, "my father wished for secrecy. How are your wounds?"

"Well enough to spar, apparently," Cassian responded, tapping the sword at his side. "The lady has been attempting to stab me for weeks."

Ashryn flushed. "Only because you are incapable of providing intelligent conversation."

Legolas nodded at her. "I will not keep you, then, my lady."

"Let's go, Ashryn," Cassian urged, his eyes meeting Legolas's. "The prince has elflings to train."

An ugly emotion flared in Legolas's veins as he held the stare, something absurdly akin to jealousy as Ashryn fell back in step with Cassian. "Good sparring," he wished them.

Her gaze darted briefly between the two male elves with a sharp annoyance before catching Legolas's eyes. "I will see you later?"

"Of course, my lady," Legolas promised, stepping aside to let them pass, waiting until the pair had left his sight before continuing towards his destination.

Ashryn squared her stance, weighing the throwing blade between her fingers as she sized up the straw target, head tilting.

"Shoulder back," Cassian called out from behind her, muffled by racks of spears.

"I know," Ashryn snapped back at him, pushing her shoulder back – taking a deep breath – and letting the knife fly.

It stuck, quivering, somewhere to the left of where she had aimed.

"Stop thinking so much about it," Cassian advised, tossing a wooden practice spear between his hands. "It's the preparation that's the problem, not the motion."

Ashryn took another knife from her belt, scowling a little but doing as she was told.

"Better. Can we spar now?"

The clearing was deserted, and Ashryn briefly contemplated the merits of tossing her next blade at Cassian, before shrugging. "Are you sure you want to?"

Cassian raised an eyebrow. "I'm offended that you don't think I can manage an elf with multiple injuries and recent poisoning."

"Well you have lost about twenty pounds of muscle since we last trained," Ashryn curled her lip. "It seems old age is catching up to you."

"Aren't you older than me?"

Ashryn didn't bother replying, choosing two blunted knives of a similar size and weight to her own and eyeing the sword that Cassian extracted from a haphazard stack. "Not using knives?"

Cassian met her gaze incredulously. "I am sure this is no surprise to you, but I prefer swords."

She must have died around six separate times before Cassian took pity on her and called a break, noting the loosening grip she had on her blades and the way she was favouring her foot. Ashryn rolled her wrists, wincing slightly. Despite how much leaner Cassian seemed, he had retained the strength of a soldier, and catching his sword with crossed knives had sent a tremor all the way through her skull. Ashryn had always been handy with her blades but remained no match for a true warrior.

They sat in comfortable silence as she stretched out her muscles, taking deep breaths of the crisp forest air. Ashryn's thoughts turned before long, the way they often had recently, to Legolas. "Did he seem different to you?" She mused aloud, glancing over at Cassian.

"Who?"

"Legolas."

Cassian huffed, leaning back. "Look, Ashryn, any meeting with Legolas which does not involve my prospective execution is a good meeting in my books."

Ashryn lapsed back into muteness, staring up at the sky. It had been weeks since they last met, and the prince had seemed a little harsher, his eyes more tired, and equipped with more steel than she was accustomed to. "Did Candor organise this border patrol?"

"No," Cassian responded.

"Not that you're aware of, you mean," Ashryn corrected.

"He tells me more than you think," he retorted with uncharacteristic seriousness. "Especially now that you don't speak to him."

Ashryn sighed. "Don't start, Cassian."

"He can make you regret this, Ashryn," Cassian warned, staring her down. "You know he hates being betrayed."

She couldn't help the incredulous laugh. "Betrayed?"

"If you hadn't insisted on hiding in your quarters for last month, you might have noticed the battle lines."

"Don't condescend, Cassian," Ashryn snapped at him.

Unperturbed, her friend only shrugged. "It's time to pick a side, Ashryn, before one is picked for you."

She didn't bother replying, mind whirling as she watched the leaves fall, twisting in the breeze. She wasn't interested in living out an insurrection, much less orchestrating one, but it seemed less and less a matter of her consent.

"Are you coming?" Cassian rose to his feet after a while, returning his sword to the crate. "There is a meeting tonight at the estate."

Ashryn tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "I'm disappointed you asked."

"So, yes?"

She turned away to study the ground. "I will think about it."

Sorry for the delayed update, but better late than never, right? Please let me know what you think. Next chapter should take somewhat less than a year, and hopefully we can get stuck right into the action soon! We're nearly halfway through as things stand currently. Fourteen should be a spicy one ;)

All the best to you and yours.

xxx