He could hear the badly concealed chuckles since before the large wooden door opened, not even needing to look up from his reading to know exactly just who had pranced into the privacy of his bedchamber without even bothering to knock. He knew the deaf sound of those incredibly light footsteps by heart. And yet, he looked up, barely having time to shake his head lightly before the reports he had been reading were suddenly snatched from his hands, his sister absently depositing over a nearby table.

"I was working." He complained, although his voice gave away just how unbothered he was about it.

"You will have time for that later." Lossenel's voice was strained with concealed laughter, her icy blue-green eyes gleaming with a silent smirk as she causally dropped herself on the couch next to him, absently placing a strand of her long platinum hair behind one of her ears. It had been uncharacteristically left unbraided, he noticed, and it lacked the many tiny jewels that were usually pinned or intertwined with her locks.

Later? He almost wanted to laugh at that. He would not have any time later, he barely had any time now with all the endless meetings his father had been insisting he attended.

"Then what do you propose I do now?" He asked, raising one questioning eyebrow, his voice always the patient serene sound. Nevertheless, he could not help but smile at the nature of her interruption. She always did that, shamelessly letting herself into his chambers even when he had asked not to be disturbed with that bright smile of hers, but he could no longer find it in himself to be annoyed at that. With Tadion and Legolas it was different, not that any of them respected his privacy either, but he had always been much older than them and they knocked every once in a while. Lossenel….Lossie simply did not.

"I propose you see what Tadion is up to." She could not hold back her laughter this time as her sparkling eyes threw him that look, the look that searched for an accomplice to her mockery. "Your balcony should have the perfect view."

He did not wait for more details, calmly standing up from the couch and crossing the large bedchamber and towards the balcony, gently pulling open the tall glass doors, Lossenel following closely behind him. The cold outside air hit his face, the wind almost freezing with the beginning of the winter. It did not take him long to find Tadion out in the gardens below, looking incredibly small in the distance, and he immediately let out a chuckle at what he saw. The sun was already dying in the horizon, casting red tones over the land and painting the clouds in all shades of purple. Down in the gardens Tadion was very openly- and very embarrassingly – showing himself off in the archery field to a group of ellith that had stopped to simply watch. And yet, he seemed to be so immersed in trying to show off his skill that he missed miserably the target almost every time.

"Now you cannot wait to tease him about it, can you?" Lossenel chimed from his left, seeming to be capable of easily reading through his emerald eyes.

"I will do it casually." He grinned back at his sister as the Crown Prince was quickly replaced by the eldest brother. "At dinner, in front of Ada."

She laughed at that, the sound floating momentarily in the wind.

"He will get back at you." She warned, but he barely heard it, his attention caught by another tiny figure down in the gardens, seeming to be heading back towards the Palace.

"I will see you at dinner." He turned to his sister, his voice always perfectly serene as he placed a quick kiss on her cheek before heading back inside the bedchamber.

"Were you not working, Ar?" Lossenel asked almost immediately, and he could hear the smirk on her voice as she followed him closely behind. He absently took thick a cloak that had been lying forgotten on the back of a chair, throwing it over his shoulders.

"You said I would have time for that later." He replied, smiling at her sudden light laughter, but she did not ask anything else, simply throwing herself over his couch and already taking some of his books and lazily going through them. She would most probably had gone through all of his stuff by dinner time, every single item he possessed would be scrutinized, touched and inspected…..and some might even disappear from his chambers. Except for his sketches, of anything he possessed those were the only items that Lossenel never touched without asking first, even though she knew very well exactly where he kept them, she never went through them without his consent.

He shook his head lightly, silently heading outside the room and absently nodding his head in acknowledgement at the two guards standing dutifully on the hallway. And there it was again, that strange feeling that seemed to course through his body at the expectation of seeing her soon. He could not name it, could not particularly place it. It was a feeling that demanded him to walk faster, to reach the set of terraces where he knew she would sit for some hours as quickly as he could. He knew exactly where she would be, had known for some weeks now, their meeting place shifting from the gardens to an isolated set of terraces once the temperature got too cold for it to be too comfortable outside by the pond. And still, what surprised him, what scared him and confused him was that he always kept coming down to meet her.

It was quickly becoming the highlight of his days, the thing that he looked forward to every afternoon as the sun began to set. And still, oddly, her presence made him feel as he could no longer keep his barriers up, as if she could see and read through them, as if she could see him. Yet, she was always so careful about it, as if she somehow knew just how much distance to keep every single time, without him needing to say anything. And still a part of him needed that distance, while the other part wanted nothing than to get closer.

He reached the set of terraces he had been looking for in almost no time, even though he had forced himself to walk at his regular speed, having to greet a couple of elves that crossed his way. She was there already, sitting on a long elegant couch facing away from him, her fine ashen hair neatly braided in a single long weave down her back, incrusted with pearls. A soft smile grew on his face. She was wearing the bracelets, the four of them, he could see them twinkling on her tiny wrist as her hand carefully threaded a silver needle through some sort of embroidery.

And there it was, that tingling in his spirit, the one that seemed to pull him to her and at the same time the one that terrified him, not wanting to make any contact, not wanting her to reach him even if part of his spirit seemed to demand him to let her. Btu could he even handle letting her reach him, would he be able to handle the feeling of another spirit touching his? Or would it make it more painful? It was already hard enough. If he let her in, she would then know for sure….and he did not want her to know. He could feel the deep pounding ache spreading through his left arm, from his fingers to his shoulder, deep, almost through the bone. It had been bothering him again lately…

"You sew?" Her head turned in his direction as he spoke, a wide smile lighting her honey colored eyes, those eyes that were always so open so welcoming and patient. He sat next to her this time, just as he had done so for the past couple of meetings, although not close enough for their bodies to touch.

"No." She replied, her voice always that casual warm tone, her hands extending in his direction to show him the mess of failed stitched on the cloth, once again not seeming bothered at all with her lack of skill. He chuckled lightly, her embroidering was as horrible as her drawing. "My aunt, however, insists that I practice artistic hand skills, when she knows I have none."

"You do have none." He agreed, managing to keep his vice composed, fighting internally between wanting to completely open up to her and at the same time feeling scared of it, needing to keep his distance, part of his guard. And he was once again surprised at just how little his slight detachment seemed to bother her, as if she could anticipate it, read through it, even expect it.

"I know." She laughed, continuing through her stitching with such confidence that anyone would have guessed she was the best at it. And he just watched for a few seconds, staring at her delicate fingers as they messily threaded through the embroidery, her eyes green stroked holding a look of careful concentration, her expression always so soft.

"You are persistent." He commented, watching as she casually kept going through the stiches no matter how ugly they were.

"'I will see, I will try, I will swim and I will fly.'" She recited without even seeming to put much attention to it, and he could not contain a laugh at her words, recognizing the fragment instantly, her eyes suddenly turning up to meet his.

"Are you really reciting The Little Lost Pebble at me?" He raised an eyebrow at her smiling face, finding it both amusing and absurd the fact that she had chosen a fragment from an elfling's bedtime story.

"You know it?" She looked slightly surprised, her stitching momentarily forgotten.

"Which elfling has not heard it?" He found her surprise suddenly amusing. "I used to read it to Tadion, and then to Legolas, and then to-"He stopped there, suddenly realizing what he had been about to say and no longer wanting to complete that sentence. And yet, she did not react, acting as if he had not suddenly stopped talking, as if conversation had merely just kept flowing casually, and he was thankful for it.

"What are you embroidering?" He changed the course of the conversation, not really knowing why but finding it not only easier and easier to talk to her, but wanting to listen to her more and more, as if their short meetings could never provide enough time.

"My dress for tomorrow's wedding." Her voice was once again casual, always warm and open as her eyes turned once again to her horrid stitching and Valar he hoped she was joking.

"Please tell me you are lying?" He laughed again, once again feeling as he could no longer keep his barriers up.

"Who would not want to wear such a unique piece?" She commented, yet the silent smirk in her voice let him know that she was indeed joking. "This is simply some spare cloth I found lying around" She clarified, but something else had suddenly registered in his mind at her words.

"You are attending tomorrows wedding?" He did not know why but the thought of that suddenly made the idea of having to show up for such an event enjoyable. He could not remember the name of the Lord that could be contracting marriage tomorrow evening, but his status as a high ranking lord demanded that the Royal Family attended the ceremony, a thought that until now had seemed overly dreadful.

"Yes." She replied with her perfect soft smile. "He is family of my aunt's but I do not know from where exactly."

He was about to comment when she suddenly let out a quiet hiss of pain, her hands immediately dropping the needle and cloth as her attention flew to her left index finger where the silver needle had suddenly deeply landed.

"Are you all right?" He asked almost immediately, not knowing from where the sudden inexplicable worry had come from.

"I am fine." She waved him off with a laugh, still examining the tip of her finger. "Just pinched my finger."

He let out a single chuckle watching her suddenly looking petrified at her finger as single bright red drop blossomed from the tiny cut. Almost immediately she paled, all color draining from the soft features of her face, her skin suddenly looking whiter than her elegant ivory dress. What had happened? Wha…..Valar she was about to faint. He reacted instantly as soon as he realized what was happening, worry knotting his insides as he suddenly reached out for her, stabilizing her gently by the arms as she swayed on the couch and letting her fall against him as she lost consciousness for a short second.

"Indilene?" He was unable to hide the worry from showing on his voice as she blinked her eyes open a second after, still looking paler than the snow, but at least it did not seem like she would loss consciousness again. And for the first time she looked embarrassed, her honey colored eyes momentarily wide.

She started to push herself to sit straight, but he stopped her, letting her lean against him as he took the edge of his thick cloak and gently pressed to her bleeding finger, stopping the blood from both oozing and showing. And still, that insignificant tiny cut on her finger bothering him beyond what it should. Why did it bother him so much? It was too tiny to even cause her any pain at all, and yet to him it felt as if she had just suffered a mortal wound. It was irrational.

"Really?" He found himself saying with a light laugh as his eyes mocked her honey colored ones. "You faint at the sight of blood?" He could feel the warms of her delicate body leaning against him, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to fully wrap his arms around her and press her closer, but he did not move. He had never been this close to her, had not even touched her since that night at the pond. She tried to glare at him, but her smile broke any sort of threatening effect it might have had.

"Only at my blood." She clarified, trying to defend herself but he only found it more amusing, and still he was carefully to keep gently covering her finger with his cloak. "I would be completely fine at seeing your blood."

He could not contain a laugh at her words, knowing what she had been trying to say yet laughing as she remained completely oblivious at the way in which she had phrased it.

"That makes me feel a lot better. At least I now know you will be completely fine watching me bleed." He mocked her, still feeling somewhat worried at her lingering pallor.

"That is not what I- "

"I know what you meant." He told her softly, still laughing at it. "Are you all right now?"

"Yes, I am fine." She reassured him, moving to sit up straight once more and he helped her. "Sorry about this."

He waved off her apology, checking instead with a quick look at her finger, lifting the cloak slightly only to find it still bleeding. But of course fingers always bled a lot.

"Do not look at it." He instructed her gently as her let go of it momentarily, rising to his feet and quickly making his way to a set of elegantly carved cabinets that sat at the back of the terrace, against the wall. He knew exactly where to look, quickly opening the top left drawer and pulling out a set of thin bandages and cotton, as well as a bottle with healing salve on it to clean the tiny wound.

He returned to sit next to her, smiling when he found that she had kept her eyes closed the entire time.

"Look away." He added gently taking her hand and carefully wiping off the blood first before dipping the cotton on the healing salve, dabbing it over the tiny cut. Did the salve sting? Was he hurting her? "Does it hurt?"

"No." She replied with a chuckle, shaking her head as she kept facing the other way, her eyes now once more open yet never looking down at her hand. He finished cleaning the cut quickly, softly wrapping a small piece of bandage around it so that any more blood that came out would remain invisible. It looked funny to see such a tiny cut with such a bandage.

Outside the sun had finally set, the night sky now a darken mantle where the Moon could barely be seen obscured by thick clouds. It might rain again soon. Or snow even, judging by the cold.

"Am I going to bleed out?" She asked, her voice once again that gentle open tone, so casual, so easy, making him smile in return as he shook his head.

"With such a massive wound you might." It was her turn to laugh now, as he tied the last of the bandage. "You can look now."

And she did, almost immediately turning her eyes to look at the bandage that now covered her finger. "Thank you."

He waved it off once more, standing up to return the rest of the bandages and healing salve to their respect drawer before returning to sit next to her, once again their bodies not touching.

"I believe I am done with my stitching." She set the cloth she had been working on aside, not seeming in the least saddened about the prospect of not continuing it.

"You will not finish it?" He added in return, once again fighting that sudden inexplicable urge to hold her close once more, needing to wrap his arms around her yet needing to still keep a safe distance, fighting the longing of his stirring spirit yet terrified of letting her in, terrified of anything coming in contact with his spirit once more, no matter how harmless it might be.

"I cannot finish it now." The sound of her laughter, like a gush of fresh summer breeze brought him back from his thoughts. "I have been wounded." She concluded exaggeratedly, showing off her newly bandaged finger. "This hand is no longer able to hold the cloth while I stitch."

"Was there supposed to be figure in there? Or was it merely a mess of stitches?" He questioned, his voice once again his usual calm soft tone yet not being able to fight back a smile as his eyes once again fell on the utter chaos of stitching on the cloth, the light blue threat following what seemed to be some sort of pattern but seeming to have failed miserably.

"It is obviously a bluebird." She commented, once again not looking at all embarrassed at her horrid attempt of embroidery.

"Ah, I see it now." He lied now he was starting to doubt if she had ever seen a bluebird. He guessed he could see something what somewhat resembled a wing if he turned his head slightly…or was that a tail? No, a head, that was definitely the head. Then the wings were coming out from the head? Those could not be wings…

"You do not see it, Arahaelon." She used his name, but this time he gladly accepted it, liking how it sounded in her voice. Yet it was once again strange, listening to anyone calling him casually by his given name. She had always been so careful with it too, as she could easily tell he was not yet to it, but how could she so easily read these things when nobody else could? Why was he opening up to her so easily.

"I might if you finish it." He insisted, not wanting her to leave just yet. "I will hold it for you." He reached out for the discarded cloth and moved to crouch at the floor by her knees, from where he could hold up the stretched cloth right above her lap. If Tadion ever saw him now….

"I can hold it by myself." She laughed at him, attempting to take the cloth frim his hands but he did not let her. He had reached that point again, and he could not explain how, the point where he did not care how ridiculous he looked, just as how ridiculous he must have looked after fallen in the pond some nights ago, where all he cared about was the smile on her face, the sound of her laugh, where his barriers had been long ago forgotten.

"You stitch." He replied, watching once again with fascination as she took the silver needle in her right hand with another laugh, proceeding to carefully thread it through the cloth he now held carefully stretched in front of her.

"Do not poke me with that." He warned once as the needle came dangerously close to one of his fingers in another of her messy stitches, and she threw him another fake glare.

"You have nothing to worry about." She muttered, trying to hide her mocking smile. "I will not faint if you bleed."

"I still would prefer not to bleed at all."

"I will not pinch you." She reassured him, yet once or twice more the needle came again dangerously close to his fingers. And she really was doing a horrid job with the stitches, even though she was clearly trying not to. And no matter how many more stitches she managed to make, he still could not see the supposed bluebird.

"You are doing a terrible job." He laughed again, he had laughed so much that night.

"There is no need to remind me." She was quick to reply, although she did not seem offended by his words in the slightest, her own eyes skeptically glancing at the figure as she stitched, making it seem that she too had lost sight of any trace of a bluebird that had might at some point appeared in the embroidery.

"I am not taking this back to my aunt." She shook her head, her long ashen braid swaying lightly by her back, her eyes now studying the finally finished 'bluebird'.

"Why not?" Another laugh from his part. She glared at him once more, her eyes almost telling him to simply look at the horrid mess of embroidery to understand why she would not want to take it back to her aunt. "Then what will you do with it?"

She shrugged in reply not seeming too interested in whatever happened to the piece of cloth, and he found himself asking before he could even stop himself, before he could even understand why he was asking.

"May I keep it?" That seemed to surprise her as much as it did him, her delicate eyebrows rising on her forehead.

"Are you sure you want this?" She asked smiling at him as questioning his sanity. But he was questioning it too…he had to be insane for wanting to ever keep this messy and horrible embroidery.

"Yes." He confirmed, and she let out another one of those quiet laughs that felt warmer than the softest summer breeze. "Add my name?"

"You do know you will barely be able to read it if I stitch in your name?" She warned him but he merely shrugged in response, not caring if his name came out looking as unreadable as the bluebird. She simply smiled again, picking up the needle once more.

"Do you need me to spell it?" He mocked and she glared at him once more.

"I know how to spell your name. What I do need help with is knowing if you would be wanting 'Arahaelon', or perhaps 'Crown Prince Arahaelon?', or should I go for 'His Royal Highness Crown Prince Arahaelon'?" She mocked him in return, but he was unable to glare at her.

"The last one does not fit, and you would be missing the 'of the Greenwood' at the end." He pointed out at the limited space on the cloth and she laughed in exasperation at his words. "Just Arahaelon is fine."

"All right." She nodded, starting to stitch in the clumsy letters, all of them nearly as unreadable as the bluebird. At first he could not make out the letters, and once he did it was already too late.

"Did you really embroidered 'Just Arahaelon'?" He raised an eyebrow, almost too amused yet incredulous at what he was seeing. He let his eyes sweep through the embroidery once more only to confirm that it indeed read 'Just Arahaelon' in there.

"It is what you said." She mocked him once more, yet he only found himself shaking his head, once again listening to the sweet melody of her laugh, the bright streak of her warm ever welcoming, ever open hazel eyes. He wanted to hold her close once more wanted to wrap his arms around her delicate frame….wanted to find out what it felt to finally press his lips to that smile. But what was he thinking?

Instead he watched her in silence as she put the needle away in the small box full of more needles and thread that had been lying forgotten on a small side table. He kept the cloth in his hands, rising from his crouching position at the floor and returning to sit down next to her on the couch. His eyes fell down to her wrists once more, where the four bracelets twinkled brightly against her pale skin. They looked gorgeous on her.

And he did not know what he was doing, he did not know why he was doing it, the pull suddenly stronger than him, making him slowly lean in closer to her, closer and closer, looking into those welcoming honey eyes that never once wavered, those soft cheeks, her small nose. He could feel her breath on his face their foreheads nearly touching. She had frozen in her spot, not moving, yet not pulling away, and he could feel his lips softly brushing hers once more, lingering for a moment until he finally closed the gap, tasting her lips with his. And she was kissing him back, gently, one of his hands moving to rest lightly over the soft skin of her cheek. and everything else seemed to stop, everything else suddenly seeming so insignificant, all the meetings, the reports, the patrols, all of that stopped mattering any longer. He wanted to stop time, to never have to leave her side, not even caring any longer about how irrational it all sounded, he simply wanted to stay here in this terrace with her for all eternity, watching her begrudgingly embroidering horrible figures that he would later get to keep.

And there it was again, the undeniable pull in his spirit, longing to reach for hers, wanting to slip, slipping, and he could almost fell her reaching him, knowing that whether he wanted it or not their spirits would bond, it was there, it was starting, she would reach him…she would reach it. It would be impossible to miss, the first thing to notice once she finally reached him, that wound…no, that void, that touched of death that he still fought hard to ignore. And he pulled away from the kiss, quickly sealing himself away once more, not letting her spirit reach him, blocking her, letting the barriers high once more.

She did not say anything. Did not even move. Yet he could feel the sorrow concealed in the depth of her honey colored eyes, the hurt at his actions, and he knew she could tell he had purposely blocked her out. He did not know which felt more painful…the look on her eyes or the fear of her finally reaching his spirit, the terror of finding out whether or not he could handle it, whether the stirring that her reaching him would cause in his spirit would make him even more aware of the void left there, bringing it once more to the surface, after he had fought so much to ignore how consuming it felt, it never stopped, it never went away, he needed to ignore it, needed to push it back, he could not handle it resurfacing, and it was, already it was….And still she looked so hurt now.

He offered her what tried to be a smile, not finding his voice to say anything, quickly rising to his feet and walking out of the terrace, the remembered pain and fear winning over that part of him that wanted nothing more than to turn back on his heels and kiss her once, twice, thrice more. But he was already making his way through the long endless hallways, trying to push back and ignore that feeling that had once again reappeared at the stirring of his spirit, at the closeness of hers touching his. It was a fight he always lost, whenever these feelings returned, and he could already feel the ache in his arm becoming all the more painful. He could already feel it vividly once more, that void there where so much of him once resided, the rest of his spirit suddenly once more aware of that missing fragment pulling and pushing, what was left of his powers trying to forcefully reconnect with the part that was lost, it felt horrible, overwhelming, destroying, and he forced himself to walk faster heading to only place he could think about at the moment, fighting the urge to claw at his chest as that horrid feeling, that emptiness materialized once more.

He opened the door without knocking, thankful to find out that his sister had not yet gone down to dinner and was still in her bedchambers. Her smiling aquamarine eyes turned to look at him, the corners of her mouth dropping immediately as she saw his face. She knew why he was there. He always came to her, every time he lost the fight, every time it all returned. He knew that if he went to his father he would worry too much, and he already had many things to worry about.

"Ar?" Lossenel voice betrayed her own worry, but he could not find his voice to speak so he merely shook his head, trying to control the shaking of his hands, to push back the pain that was now tearing through the bone of his left arm and burning through the handprint left on his skin. And it would have helped to think that it was merely remembered pain, but it was not, it was real pain, his arm had been the point where the connection had happened, and the pain would return and spread every time that horrible void, that dead part of his spirit made itself known once more.

He simply walked to where she sat crossed legged at the center of bed, her hands quickly brushing away the few books that had been laying open over the covers to make room for him, and he lowered himself to sit next to her, trying to take calming even breaths.

"It will go away." His sister was quick to say as he closed his eyes, trying his best to ignore what was left of his now unstable energy as it coursed through him like electric shocks, trying to reach that empty part him, only managing to make the void all the more painful all the more evident. He knew what she meant, this part will go away, he will eventually once again be able to push it back and ignore it, although such a thing most of the time took hours. But truly it would never go away. Most days it was easier to ignore, and then, occasionally, there days when this happened.

"I will inform Ada not to expect us at dinner." She added once more, and even though he felt slightly guilty that he was preventing his sister to attend dinner with the rest of the family he was glad for her company now, watching her leaving the room, only to find her returning seconds after. He already knew his father would be coming to check on him once dinner was over, he would immediately know the reason Lossenel and him had skipped.

Yet he kept his eyes shut, felling the mattress sink when Lossenel returned to sit next to him, one of his hands finally flying to grasp at his tunic by his chest, not begin able to keep still any longer, as if almost feeling he could physically grasp that void, needing to take it away, to claw it out of him, his left arm straining.

"It will be all right, Ar." Lossenel's gentle voice murmured, one of her tender hands sliding comfortingly down his hair while the other grasped at his hand and he squeezed it, not letting go of it, thankful more than anything for his sister's company right now. She could not really help him, but not being alone helped somewhat. "Just breathe. It will be all right."

He nodded in silence, not opening his eyes, not able to speak, trying to maintain his breathing calmed, fighting against the despair that the consuming void brought with it, against the overwhelming pulling of the rest of the now unstable energy in his spirit that was left like unconnected shards of a broken vase. It was too much, and it took all of his concentration to simply take even deep breaths, to keep his hands from shaking too much, from preventing the hand griping at his tunic by his chest from clawing at his skin in despair to get rid of this consuming emptiness and unstable shards. No. He could not let Indilene in. He could not let her spirit reach his, not yet. He would not be able to handle it, if she reached that void, if she touched, if it somehow made it all the more present than it already was, if it resurfaced more strongly than it was currently doing he would go mad. He could not handle it, it would be too much. He could not let her in…and he did not want her to ever see him like this.

So here is chapter 5! I hope you enjoy it, it was a little tricky to write haha but I hope I came through as I expected it.

Again, thank you thank you so much to those of you who reviewed the previous chapter! This chapter is also for all of you and I hope it can bring a little more sunshine to your day, replies to your reviews are on the way!: reddoggie, Amsim, mMy, Teddy2104 and Yaulewen!

Love,

Elena