The morning was oddly quiet once Sigrid woke up. The large room was cold, the heavy blankets feeling cozy and warm all around her body. Pale golden rays filtered through the frost covered windows that lined that bedroom, the forest outside even whiter than it had been before. Bracing herself after mentally counting to three inside her head, Sigrid pushed the comforting covers aside, almost yelping as her bare feet came in contact with the floor. She always did this, always kicked her warm socks during the night only to suffer the freezing flooring in the morning.

It took her ten minutes to find a suitable sweater and pair of jeans to wear, for the first time wishing that she had taken more care when packing her messy trunk. Finally, she chose a knitted maroon sweater and her favorite old pairs of jeans, throwing them eon after a long hot bath. She even tried combing and styling her hair, but her golden curls refused to behave, making her ending up tying them in a bun in frustration. And still, the odd silence remained. Silence was never normal in the twins' house. Never.

"Dan?" She called out as she descended the wide wooden staircase into the overly large living room, her eyes meticulously scanning her surroundings. "Ro?"

No answer came. Narrowing her eyes, she made her way towards the airy kitchen, where the high windows overlooked the largest portion of the frozen lake. "Dan? Ro?"

Empty as well. What? She was about to return upstairs when her eyes caught a piece of parchment sitting alone on the long wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. Taking it in her hands, her brown eyes danced over the familiar handwriting of the elder twin.

Sig,

Left with Ada to run some errands. You were asleep so we decided not to wake you. Will be back around noon.

Placing the parchment back on the table, Sigrid let herself drop comfortably on one of the twelve chairs that lined it. So she had the entire house to herself for the morning. A covered bowl of cereal lay neatly on one of the many countertops, which she guessed was her breakfast. She debated whether or not eating it, but decided against it, not really feeling hungry at all.

Instead she paced around the large living room, eyes searching through the massively high bookcases lining the walls, trying to find something interesting to read. There were always good books in the twins' house, and she sometimes wondered how it was that they could sometimes ignore them instead of devouring them at every chance they had. Her eyes travelled from title after title, gazing at all the differences in sizes and colors of the covers. Most of them were about the arts of healing, about types of spells and how to counter them, how to brew antidotes to lethal potions...it came as no surprise whatsoever, considering that the twin's father was the head healer in the St. Mungo's Hospital.

She picked out one of the few books that looked like a lighter read, comfortably throwing herself across the warm deep red couch by the fireplace. This, this was sanctuary. The bright orange flames swayed in a lazy dance, crackling at the burning wood they slowly consumed. She could feel their heat licking at the throw blanket around her legs, the weight of the book on her lap.

A sudden screech made her turn her head in surprise, only to find an owl flying in the direction of one of the many windows lining the room. She was on her feet in a second, momentarily forgetting about the book or blanket waiting for her on the couch, her attention now fully focused on the owl. She recognized those greyish brown feathers immediately, the way in which one of the winds seemed a little odd and strain from age. It was their family's owl!

"I'm coming!" She whispered at the animal who was now impatiently hitting its beak against the long crystal, demanding her to let it in the house. It took her a couple of seconds of fiddling with the ancient window latch, but the second the window opened the owl flew inside and landed awkwardly on a little round wooden table in the corner of the room.

She hurried to its side, rolling her eyes as the animal screeched at her as if asking her to move faster, picking at the little string that tied a small brown package to one of its claws. She detached it as fast as she could, watching the impatient owl stretch her wings and flap outside the window the same way it had come, not even waiting for a reply.

"I see your humor hasn't changed…" She muttered to the owl that was disappeared through the heave low clouds, shaking her head lightly before turning her attention back to the little package waiting for her at the table.

A tiny note lay neatly folded at the top of the package, tied along with a thin golden cord. "Sigrid" read in the curly cluttered handwriting of her father, her fingers almost immediately unfolding the little parchment.

Here's a little early Christmas treat! Enjoy! – and share.

With love,

Da

A wide smile broke through her face at the little message, hearing her dad's voice in her head as she read the words. Taking the still unopened package in her hands, she grabbed the thick woolen throw blanket from the couch and made her way outside to the long front porch of the house. The cold hit her face so suddenly that all remaining sleepiness suddenly vanished from her, huddling her sweater closer to her. She didn't know why, but even despite the cold the little – well nothing was little in this house - outdoor porch overlooking the forest and lake held an enchanting allure that she could not get enough of.

There was an old wooden swing to one side of it, the pale cream cushions comfortable enough for someone to fall asleep on them. Wrapping the blanket tightly around her body, she lowered herself on the swing, the old wood cracking a little under the unexpected weight, tucking her legs underneath her. Out of curiosity, she gave the little package a shake by her ear, listening as the contents inside wiggled around the box.

In the morning light, she could see way more of the forest and lake surrounding the house than she could the night before. And it even appeared larger, it that was even possible. All around her the snow covered what had once been grass in a layer so soft it could have been cotton. Almost immediately her eyes travelled to the other house in the distance, by other side of the lake, searching for any sign of activity, but found none.

Only one thing let her know that the house was indeed occupied, and the wasn't entirely alone in this grand lands. A small figure kept zooming around across the lake in a broomstick, so fast she was getting dizzy form only watching. And yet, even through the distance she could make out that the figure was indeed the younger Lasgalen brother, too small for it to have been Thranduil. He would go up as high as he dared, nearly disappeared through the thick white clouds and then suddenly dash down, as if we were about to crash against the lake's icy surface. And then, at the very last minute he would angle the broomstick and zoom parallel to the lake, giving her a fright in the process.

Focusing her attention back on the package, Sigrid let her freezing fingers – she should have worn gloves- untie the thin golden string, pulling at the brown paper covering the box. Inside, lay an wide assortment of cadies and treats, her eyes scanning through chocolate frogs, a couple of bags of every flavor bean, three sugar quills- all a different flavor-, fudge cauldrons, and even a collection of some sort of taffy she had never seen before. She nearly let out a little laugh as she remembered the instructions written on the little note accompanying the gift: share. Ohh….she didn't want to share this little treasure.

She was trying to decide which candy to start on when a sudden crash had her eyes flying in the direction of the lake. Her heart nearly skipped a beat as she found the little Lasgalen suddenly lying upon the lake's black surface, the broomstick sliding over the ice away from him. In a flash, her feet were already making their way through the snow-covered grounds in that direction, not even noticing as the cold snow got inside the top of her poorly laced boots.

"Are you ok?!" She partially yelled as she approached the edge of the lake, her heart racing like a caged bird inside her chest.

"Ow!" She let out a sigh of relief, watching the little Lasgalen pushing himself to stand on the ice not too far from her, shaking his long golden hair away from his face with a gloved hand. A round of joyful laughter left his mouth, letting her relax a bit as she understood that he was alright. Waving at her with an excited movement of the hand, Legolas Lasgalen tumbled precariously along the slippery surface in the direction of his broomstick, picking it up before walking in her direction, seeming eager to step anywhere but the frozen lake.

"Are you hurt?" She asked again the second he reached her side, dropping his broomstick carelessly on the snow by his feet. He wore a deep blue sweater, so thick it made her slightly jealous of how warm he must have been, a pale grey scarf wrapped tightly around his neck.

"No. But I think I scratched my elbow.'" He shook his head as a reply, sounding impressively cheerful for someone who had just crashed a broomstick. His long silvery hair, so much like his brother's hung freely just past his shoulders, those ivy blue eyes, a pair that was somehow eve warm and welcoming looking up at her, smiling widely.

"What happened?" She asked, shaking her head at his lack of any worry, watching throw himself down to the soft blanket of snow, sitting down facing the lake. Her eyes inspected the area around them, trying to find any sign of anybody else on the other house, but everything remained as still as before.

"Can you not tell anyone that I was flying, please?" Pale blue eyes, so gentle and full of mirth looked up at her pleadingly, as if able to read his thoughts. "I'm not allowed to fly if there' s no one around to watch."

He almost sounded slightly bitter at the last statement, making her let out a chuckle at how much he resembled Tilda at that moment. She had already started to wonder how was it that his father or anyone would let him- an eleven year old- flying that way and that high up unsupervised.

"I won't tell." She decided, lowering herself to sit on the snow next to him. It felt odd, being this close to the younger Lasgalen, who she had only ever seen from the distance before. And suddenly she understood why Tilda liked him so much. Contrary to his elder brother projected coldness and aloofness, Legolas was all smiles and gentle warmth, making her wonder as to why he would have asked the hat to be placed in Slytherin. For a second, she wondered that if Thranduild had not been in Slythrin himself, would she had then seen little Legolas prancing around the Gryffindor common room with Tilda?

"Thanks!" He smiled up at her once more, turning his arm around to inspect his elbow. "I think I got a scratch."

"Let me see." He rolled the sleeve of his thick sweater at her request, revealing a thin red line on the back of his elbow. It wasn't really bleeding, barely even looking like a little pink line on his pale arm. "You'll be fine." She laughed, waving a hand in the air at the barely existent injury.

"Still, it's a cool scratch I'll get to show Thran later tonight." He once again sounded too excited about it, as if he could not wait to get back on the broomstick that- in her opinion- had nearly killed him. And people kept asking her why she didn't like flying! Broomsticks were dangerous!

"Why was nobody watching you?" She suddenly asked, trying to get a glimpse as to where his brother might be. She had not seen him at all around, and strangely enough part of her long to see his long silvery hair, piercing unreadable eyes.

"Ada and Thran are out shopping for a Christmas gift for grandma, but I decided to stay. Polly was supposed to be watching us – our house elf-" he clarified at her suddenly confused expression. "But I managed to sneak out without being noticed."

There it was again, that shortened name for a figure that to still felt a little too regal and aloof to her. The way he spoke so casually about his older brother never stopped to amuse her, as if he was talking about a completely different person than the one everyone else knew.

"You're Tilda's sister, aren't you?" Soft blue eyes were looking at her expectantly, making it impossible for her not to smile in return. She missed Tilda already. Merlin she even missed Bain and his messes and loud voice!

"Yeah." She nodded, watching placing a strand of his long blond hair behind a little ear.

"She's really nice." He added, his eyes suddenly drifting to her hands. "What's that?"

"Oh, this…"She had nearly entirely forgotten about the little box of candy that she still held in her hands, suddenly remembering its presence. "Is candy that I got early for Christmas"

She opened the box, letting him look in wonder at the inside, suddenly feeling that the small assortment of candy might look pathetic to his eyes. He must be used to getting way more candy than what her father could afford to give her.

"Would you like some?" She added, remembering the little note her dad had written.

"Can I get a frog?" He asked almost shyly, his eyes looking at the bagged chocolate frogs as if they were treasured made of gold, making her laugh again.

"Of course." She passed him the box, watching his hand roam through all the chocolate frog bags, as if not able to decide which of the frogs he wanted. Finally he settled on one, opening the wrapper so quickly that she wonder if he had been famished.

However, instead of eating the frog right away, she watched him place it back on the wrapper before it could jump away, his fingers turning around the collectible card underneath longing eyes. And then, his face fell almost immediately, making her let out an amused chuckle.

"What did you get?" She asked him, finding his excitement – and then disappointment – about the card almost too funny. She had never collected the cards before, not really understanding where the fun was in there.

"Rowena Ravenclaw" He sighed, handing her the card for her to see. "You can keep it if you wish. I have seven of those."

"Do you want another frog?" His eyes lighted up instantly at the prospect of another card, but he then shook his head, as if not wanting to abuse of candy that was not his.

"Nah, its ok." He shrugged, sharing that bright contagious smile of his.

"Come on." She nudged him offering him the box again. "Try another one and see what you get."

"Are you sure?" He asked almost timidly, only grabbing a wrapped chocolate frog at her insistence, opening it immediately to sigh in frustration.

"Ravenclaw again!" He laughed, this time shoving the collectible card in his sweater's pocket.

"Another one?" She suggested, not really knowing why she was finding it so much fun to try and see which card he kept pulling out of the frogs.

"It's ok." He shook his head again. "I'm stealing all of your cards!"

"I don't collect them." She explained with a shrug, watching as his eyes longingly stared at the box on candy, as trying to make up his mind yet not wanting to abuse.

"Let's do something." She got an idea, folding her hands neatly on her lap. "Let's get all the cards and see if whatever it is you are looking for shows up. We don't have to eat the frogs."

"But they are your cards!" His eyes went wide at her suggestion, making her laugh again. He was clearly not understanding that she would do nothing with the cards.

"I don't collect them. So you can keep them all." Tilda would murder her if she could hear her right now, and would probably act dramatically betrayed that her sister was offering cards to anyone other than her. But Tilda wasn't here right now.

"Why do you not collect them?" He looked at her puzzled, as if she was the strangest thing his eyes had seen.

"I don't know." She told the truth, not really knowing what else to say to explain her lack of interest in the collectible cards.

"Oh, you should!" He laughed, his eyes sparkling in anticipation as he looked at the box of unopened chocolate frogs as if it was the best and largest Christmas present ever. "You open one, and then I open one?"

"Sure." She agreed, letting her own hand reach out for another of the chocolate boxes. There were only three left so she knew the excitement would not last for long.

"You have to close it up tightly before the frog has a chance to jump." He instructed quickly, sounding almost too eager.

"I know." She chuckled, fingers quickly unwrapping and resealing the frog, turning the new card in her hands.

"Balthazar." She read out loud, watching as Legolas made a face at the name. "You already have it?"

"Four times already." He added, her eyes growing wide momentarily. How many cards did he have!

"Alright, your turn." She passed the box to him, watching him quickly- and almost too expertly- extract another card from a frog before it could jump, making that funny disappointed face again.

"Merlin." He announced, handing the card back to her, the portrait of an old wizard with a long silver beard looking back at her, the expression in his face seeming to point that he was in a bad mood.

"How many times do you have this one?" She almost did not want to hear the answer, and yet she was too curious to hear the number.

"Eleven."

"Eleven?!" She could not help but reply. "How many cards do you have?!"

"Many." She smiled sheepishly in return, shaking the snow from his gloves.

"And you haven't completed the collection yet?"

"No." He shook his head, eyes looking back at the box, where the last unopened frog rested. Sighing, and deciding against asking any more questions, Sigrid reached out for the frog, quickly opening and closing the wrapper, taking out the last little card, already knowing that he would have it at least four times already.

"Morgana." She read out loud, making a double take at the sudden change of expression on his face, large blue eyes going wide, mouth slightly agape.

"Can I have it?" He asked so quickly that she could barely understand his words. "'Please, please, please! I'll trade you!"

He was talking so fast he was given her barely any time to reply at all, his eyes looking at the back of the car din her hand as if it was made of gold.

"Please. I'll trade you!" He suggested, eyes lighting up so much, once again oddly resembling Tilda. "I'll trade you for any of my cards. Any!"

"Woa, woa." She threw her hand sin the air in a gesture for him to calm down, but he kept insisting. "What is so special about this card?"

"Please!" He kept pleading, nearly jumping up and down. "It's the one I was looking for! It's the one I need! I'll show you all of my cards and you can pick any you like return! I'll even give you two cards for that one!"

"I don't know." She smiled, figuring out that a little teasing could do no harm. "Seems like a very special card….maybe I'll keep it…."

"No! pleeeeeeeeaseeeee, Sigrid!" He begged her, suddenly rising up to his feet and pulling her impatiently along by the sweater for her to stand up to. "Come on, I'll show you my cards and you'll change your mind! Come on!"

In a flash he was pulling her by the hem of the sweater at a surprisingly fast speed, her feet nearly tumbling on the heavy snow in order to keep up. Her heart nearly skipped a bit as she saw the giant house coming closer and closer, Legolas guiding her inside a large pair of front doors in such a rush that it barely gave her time to protest.

"There's nobody home." He added the second she opened her mouth to protest, her eyes wide as to where she was, and yet he seemed entirely relaxed letting her into his house. And then, his hand had let go of her sweater, his little figure disappearing in a dash up a majestic stairwell, leaving her awkwardly and nervously standing alone in the middle of the largest reception hall her eyes ever seen – except for Hogwart's of course.

She gripped her hands anxiously, eyes flying around the long pointed windows that managed to make the sunlight wash the room and paint so brightly it almost felt as if she was outdoors. The polished marble floor glistening in dim reflections every time she moved, each tile looking more expensive than her whole home was. Ahead, through a wide pointed archway in the wall she could see a vast sitting room stretching, only the edge of a rich pale gold carpet visible, and the back of a fine leather couch.

"Legolas!" She called out in as loud a whisper as she dared managed, not really wanting to find out whether or not the giant manor was really empty. Only silence met her ears, no sign visible of the boy that had so quickly dashed up the stairs. And she did not dare following up such a staircase.

"Legolas!" She whispered again, a little louder this time. She jumped back a little at the sound of shuffling footsteps coming from a room to the left, her stomach clenching in sudden nerves. He had said the house was empty!

"Good morning, Miss" A high squeaky voice left the house elf that had suddenly appeared, large tennis ball eyes looking at her curiously, yet not as hostile as she would have almost expected. "Are you here with Master Legolas?"

She could see the caution in the elf's eyes, as if deciding whether or she was an intruder or a welcomed guest, and truth be told she did not know which one she felt like really.

"I..er….yes." She decided quickly, feeling the large eyes scrutinize her momentarily. Legolas had dragged her inside this house, so she must be his guest, right?

"You must be Polly." She added in as friendly a tone as she could muster, watching in surprise as the elf shook its large head slowly.

"Linky is my name, miss." The elf added, still in that cautious tone, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. They had not one but two house elves! Why?

"Oh…well, it's nice to mee-

"Here!" Merlin, she had never been so grateful to hear the younger Lasgalen's voice, footsteps rushing down the stairs, his figure suddenly appearing next to her. "I found them!"

"Oh, hi, Linky!" Legolas suddenly waved, as if for the first time noticing the presence of the house elf in the room as well. The later gave his master a polite smile before shuffling out of the room the same way he had come.

Without warning, the younger Lasgalen's hand had already gripped her sweater once more, pulling her along towards the enormous sitting room ahead, throwing himself on the floor and placing down the large metal box he had been carrying.

"I thought you said your house elf was named Polly." She mentioned, still slightly confused, lowering herself to sit crossed legged on the floor next to him.

"Yeah." He nodded almost disinterestedly, as if he was merely talking about the weather. " Polly is our house elf, Linky is in charge of Thran."

So many more questions popped into her head, but he did not give her a chance to ask any, quickly taking control of the conversation again.

"Look." He added the second she had sat down next to him on the cool marble floor, his hand lifting the wooden lid to reveal at least five hundred cards neatly tucked inside. "These are all my cards. You can pick any you like in exchange for Morgana. Please?"

She chuckled, slightly perplexed. She had never seen anyone owing a collection of cards this large! Instead, she pulled the clearly very coveted card from her pocket and handed it to him. She was not going to do anything with it anyway.

"You can have it." She laughed at his shocked expression. "I don't collect them, so I have no use for it. No need to give me any card in return."

"Really?" He seemed too surprised to fully believe what she had said, taking the little card she had offered and looking at it as it was somehow more valuable than the entire collection he had in front of her.

"Yeah, sure. Just keep it." She nodded, making a mental note not to mention it to Tilda that she had given away what was apparently a rare card.

"Thank you!" His thin arms wrapped around her next tightly all of a sudden, given her so little time to react and nearly knocking her backwards. It felt strangely comforting, yet stills o surprising just how open and joyful this boy was, never caring about showing all of his emotions so freely, while his brother seemed to be covered by a wall out unbreakable ice on the surface.

Her hear suddenly stopped breathing as a sudden pop echoed from the chimney at that precise second, her body suddenly freezing in place. Merlin, if she had ever wished to be invisible it was now! Two tall figures had materialized out of thin air on the impossibly grand fireplace, the fading green flames of floo travel waning off. Oropher Lasgalen stood as regal and intimidated a she did the only other she had seen him in real life. His dark blue robes, the color of night sky, pooled elegantly around him, the embroidery the finest her eyes had ever seen. Deep blue eyes, no that piercing icy shade of his sons, falling instantly on Legolas' figure, seeming to have yet to notice her.

But it was another pair of eyes that had rendered her immobile. Icy blue eyes, as cold as the frozen lake outside, pierced almost mercilessly through her, pinning her in place, unexpectedly looking hostile, distant, his face that perfectly serene marbled expression that let nothing through. His long silvery hair cascaded freely down his back, still dripping a few ashes from the floo powder. And yet, he looked oddly tired, neither his face nor his stance as hard and stoic as it usually was, the outline of purple shadows barely visible underneath his icy glare. Underneath the dark emerald of his cashmere sweater her eyes caught sight of white linen bandages covering his left hand, which he quickly placed behind his back, as if he had caught her peeking.

"Ada!" Legolas chirped instantly, a wide smile growing on his face as he jumped to his feet, and she once again wished to disappear, not knowing where else to look under the murdering glare of this icy blue eyes. What was wrong with him? Had it bothered him this much to find her inside his house? It was always like this with them, one day he was nice and the other he was throwing glares at her that would make people shudder.

A second pair of eyes landed in her direction, dark impenetrable blue, seeming to study her every feature, and for a second she felt the need to suddenly apologize, feeling as if she had something wrong, as if she had intruded in a house in which she was clearly not welcomed.

"Ada, this is Sigrid" Legolas' explained so casually, that wide smile still present on his face, as if he was merely talking about how his day had gone. "We were looking at my card collection! She gave me Merlin, but I already have him so many times, I wanted to show her. She's-

"A friend…of mine." The older Lasgalen brother interrupted, his voice as icy as his eyes, not having moved an inch from the fireplace where he had appeared. And yet, the older wizard's dark blue eyes flew suddenly in the direction of his elder son's voice, as if not having expected to hear those words, studying his son carefully for a few seconds.

"I…I' sorry..I was….in" She stuttered, rising to her feet, her hands nervously straightening her wrinkled maroon sweater, a finger pointing in the direction of the twin's house, as if trying to explain why it was she was even around.

"It's alright, Sigrid." The tall wizard addressed her, and she was surprised to find his voice not as cold as she had nearly anticipated. In fact, it sounded slightly kind, polite, as if he was not about to kick her out of his house for being there unwanted. And then, for a split of second his eyes turned around to gaze at his son, as if contemplating something momentarily. "Legolas and I have to leave shortly, but perhaps you would like to stay? Thranduil can show you ar-"

"No." The cold single word hurt like a knife to her chest, icy blue eyes throwing her one more murderous glare before he suddenly walked out of the room, his pace so effortless so elegant, never once glancing back.

His father's face remained an unreadable regal mask, and yet there was something ins his eyes that let her know that this had been precisely the reaction he had been expecting but had hoped not to get, giving her one apologetic polite smile. "Sorry about-

"It's alright." She added quickly, suddenly eager to leave this house. She should have stayed in the twins' house, snuggled with a book and a blanket. She had done nothing to merit this cold treatment form his part! "We're not…really friends…..we're just in the same class…"

The wizards' dark blue eyes narrowed in her direction this time, seeming skeptical of her words yet not adding anything to contradict her, only nodding his head once in return, eyes turning to glance at his younger son. "Legolas, come on, we need to be going."

"But, Ada…" Came the boy's complain, still too enthralled by his newly opened collection of cards.

"No buts, you said you wanted to come with me to pick out grandma's gift. Now come on."

Something inside her head suddenly clicked, just as she was slowly making her way outside the enormous living room. They had carried no packages with them. Their hands had been completely empty. Legolas had claimed they had been shopping for a gift for their grandma, but then why was Oropher Lasgalen now telling his son to accompany him to run that same errand. Legolas had lied. Why had had Legolas lied before?

"Can't Sigird stay? I'll stay with her!" She could hear the younger Lasgalen insisting behind her back as she left the room, perfectly imagining how his face must have looked.

"No, Legolas." His father's voice was soft, yet unyielding, and she could hear some shuffling around, as if a cloak had been picked up from a piece of furniture. And then, when he spoke again, the wizards voice had dropped nearly to whisper, her ears barely catching any of it as she exited through the door, ready to leave the house. "I said no visits in the house today. Your brother is not feeling well today, you know. He doesn't l-

"He never likes visits!" Legolas complained, sounded frustrated yet not truly angered. "We never have anyone over!"

"Now, that is not true, my son. But your brother doesn't feel well right now. I only ask that when-

"I know, Ada, only when's he's sick." Legolas' voice had dropped again as if he wanted to complain more and at the same time could not find it in himself to keep complaining about this. "But it's so often!"

"I know, Las." The father's voice sounded pained as he spoke, as if he too wanted to grant his younger son's wishes yet also needed to take care of his other son. "Perhaps tomorrow if he's feeling better? Then we can have your friends over. And we're going out for Christmas Eve dinner, remember? There'll be lots of people there. Now come and help me pick out a nice gift for grandma?"

"And hot chocolate on the way back?"

"And hot chocolate on the way back."

"Is Thran alright?"

"Yes." A lie. The voice gave it away so clearly she wondered if Legolas picked it up. The first lie in the entire conversation. She did not get to hear anything else, her feet already quickly carrying her outside the house in long strides, her boots sinking in the soft snow. All she wanted was to reach the twins' living room, and curl herself on the couch with a book, as she should have done all morning, waiting for the twins to get back, and pretend that she had never heard or seen anything she had that morning.

Hi there! Here's the next chapter! It was supposed to include the Christmas dinner and the lots of Thranduil during that day and night, but it was already getting so long that I decided to chop it into two parts. Anyway, let me know what you think!

Also thank you so much to Can't-Choose-A-Fandom, VanyaNoldo and Rose61393 for reviewed the last chapter! Thank you, each and every one of your comments means a lot to me and it makes me really happy to hear that you are still enjoying this strange crossover story hehe

Love,

Elena