- Chapter 40 -


A cold wind split through the streets when they left the tent. Her white hair flowed down her front and the back of the purple and silver gown; the curls being exceptionally difficult today much to Shyloh's annoyance. But, that was nothing new. The rich color of the fabric stood out brightly against the pale and dull setting of the city streets, and Shyloh couldn't deny it was beautiful. However, she felt completely out of place in it and way too dressed up, despite the lack of any pattern on the skirts.

"You still have not collected your bow," Arossel said suddenly when they paused in the middle of the street. Shyloh didn't have any idea where they were going to go once they left the tent, but apparently Arossel had some thoughts. "Will you not be needing it soon?"

Shyloh nodded and sighed. Reluctantly, she looked down the long street at the row of command tents, silently wishing she'd remembered to collect her weapons the day before. Her eyes instantly picked out the blue of the Prince's tent. Biting her lip, she decided against it.

"Maybe later, I don't want to disturb him," she said. "He's probably got a lot to do now that the supply wagons have arrived."

Arossel raised her eyebrows and fixed Shyloh with a look. "All you are doing is picking up your bow. Did you not also have a sword and quiver?"

Shyloh nodded again. "But my sword is broken."

"All the more reason to collect your weapons. You leave the day after tomorrow, and the smiths will need time to repair your blade before you depart."

"I guess you're right," she said, and they turned towards the row of command tents to their right.

They walked slowly though, despite the chill in the air. Winter was coming; it was literally just around the corner. Shyloh wondered if they would make it back through the Misty Mountains before the snow came. It took them months just to get here, surely it would take them that long to get back.

The blue tent drew closer and Shyloh could feel herself growing steadily nervous. She didn't know why, but she worried the entire time she would meet Iamben or even Lastril on the way, and honestly she didn't want to see either of them. What if Lastril was in his tent? What exactly was the pretty elleth's job here?

Don't be ridiculous, Legolas is your soulmate, not Lastril's, she told herself. There's no need to be jealous. She's not going to steal your...whatever he his. Do they have a name for what we are?

Before she knew it, they were standing across from his tent. The usual guards were posted outside the front entrance but inside, more ellons stood around the table. They looked deep in conversation and some were turning and pointing to the maps hanging from the beams. Some of them were dressed in armor, some in robes, and she felt her courage slip away completely.

Just then, she spotted him and at the same time he looked up from whatever he was reading on the table and caught her eye, and she quickly turned to Arossel.

"Let's come back another time," she said quietly. "They look awfully busy."

"Wait," hissed Arossel, and when Shyloh glanced back at the tent, Legolas had left and was crossing the space; a frown upon his face.

"Is everything alright?" he asked quickly, looking down at Shyloh.

"Everything's fine," Shyloh blinked, and brushed the hair out of her face. "I – I heard you had my weapons recovered, I was just wondering where I might find them."

He almost looked relieved, which she thought was strange, and then he straightened. Glancing back towards the tent, his frown was back in place. Some of the guards looked out at them curiously, others regarded them with only a quick look, and some didn't even bother to look at all.

"I can come another time, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," she breathed and he looked back down at her with the same frown.

"Shyloh," he said steadily, his frown deepening. "You are not interrupting anything."

He looked back at the tent once more then touched her elbow with his hand. "Come with me, I have them inside," he said, and guided her to the tent.

Upon entering, eight sets of eyes looked up simultaneously and her face flushed. Some of them murmured 'my Lady,' and some bowed their heads to her. They looked at her curiously as Legolas left her to stand there by the table while he disappeared to the back of the tent. He returned only a moment later with her bow and quiver in hand, but no sword.

"I was wondering when you would want these back," he said, and laid them on the table for her.

The quiver was empty, which wasn't surprising, but she felt a little disappointed the shards of her sword were not among her items. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she reached out to touch the bow with her fingertips.

"Thank you for having them retrieved for me," she said politely, and he nodded.

"Not leaving us so soon are you my Lady?" one of the ellons asked, taking her by surprise.

He caught her eye as he leaned against the table; his hands splayed out over a map of some sort in front of him. He looked genuinely curious, and glanced down at the weapons before her.

"Day after tomorrow, actually," she answered.

"That is soon," another said, and he actually sounded disappointed.

"Will you be returning to the Woodland Realm again?" asked another.

"Um," she hesitated. "I'm not sure. I don't have anything planned at the moment."

"Sidhel mentioned you were exceptionally handy with that bow," one said, his eyes looking pointedly between her and her bow. "I am curious to see how you would do against Ernil Legolas."

"Ay," said another. "He is the best archer in the Woodland Realm. It is not often we can compare our skills to our kin in other lands."

Her mouth literally went dry. She was not expecting that at all and looked to Legolas to see his reaction, but he looked almost upset by their suggestion.

"A little friendly competition would certainly lighten up the mood around here," the ellon leaning on the table said.

"Perhaps another time," Legolas said without meeting her eye. He honestly looked upset all of a sudden and she couldn't figure out why what was, so she attempted to turn the frown upside down.

"Why not?" she asked, surprising even herself. "Afraid I'll best you?"

It worked, and he looked surprisingly amused by her sudden challenge. A few of the guards chuckled but she shook her head.

"I'm afraid a few lucky shots would hardly qualify me for a competition, even a friendly one, especially against him," she smiled.

The ellons smiled and chuckled again, then brushed aside her worries.

"The way Sidhel described your technique made me curious. How long have you been training with the army of Rivendell?" a brown haired ellon asked. He wore leather armor across his chest and still had his quiver strapped over his shoulders.

"I'm actually not training with the army, and I'm not in it either," she said, and his eyes widened.

"Well I would still say taking down a troll with one shot is impressive."

"I'll be sure to pass your compliments on to Lord Glorfindel, since he is the one that has instructed me over the last two years," she said, feeling herself blush again.

"Lord Glorfindel?" the armored guard asked, suddenly looking surprised. "The Balrog Slayer?"

She nodded and fidgeted with the bow. "Lord Glorfindel took me under his wing a couple years ago, and has been a very patient and dedicated instructor. I fear I have a long way to go yet."

"Two years?" repeated an ellon to his left. The tent grew quiet and she blinked in confusion. "You've only been using a bow for two years?"

She looked to Legolas briefly but found he was watching her, looking slightly impressed.

Turning back to the group she shrugged slightly. "Like I said, a few lucky shots."

"I would hardly call those lucky shots my Lady," someone said and a few of them nodded, looking either impressed or disbelieving.

"What is it like training with Lord Glorfindel? I have heard of his impressive skills but have not had the pleasure of witnessing it myself," the armored guard asked.

"I honestly have no one else to compare him too I'm afraid," she admitted. "But he's definitely strict and you can absolutely plan on never sleeping in again."

They chuckled at that and she felt herself relax just a little bit. Even Legolas grinned.

"I'm afraid I still have a long way to go though, and there's always a lot to learn," she said and some of them nodded.

"She's just being modest," a silky voice said from outside the tent.

Turning, Shyloh's heart sank when Lady Lastril floated inside, her long hair flitting about her and catching the sun's rays, making it look like she had streaks of honey mixed in with the milk chocolate locks. Her deep green gown swirled around her legs and Shyloh thought she could have easily been a goddess. Her soft face held a sweet, warm smile that would have probably brought any man to his knees.

How unfair, she thought.

Her eyes locked on Shyloh and honestly, the Princess had no idea what to expect from the beautiful she-elf when she sidled up to her by the table. Shyloh didn't see Legolas stiffen or the smile falter from his face, but she suddenly felt some sort of shift inside her head, and had no idea what to make of it.

"Mae g'ovannen, Princess," Lastril said and she curtsied. "I'm so glad I have finally run into you. I have been looking forward to meeting you for quite some time, I am only sad our paths have not crossed sooner. I am Lady Lastril, daughter of Lord Iamben."

"Mae g'ovannen, Lady Lastril," Shyloh said politely, bowing her head. "A pleasure to meet you."

"I hope you'll pardon the intrusion," Lastril said apologetically to the group then turned back to Shyloh and placed a hand gently on her arm. "But I was only passing by and saw you in here, and I just had to come and introduce myself."

"You are not intruding Lady," said an ellon. "The Princess was just discussing some of her training. She is rather skilled in the form of archery."

Raising her perfect eyebrows, Lastril's expression turned to pleasantly surprised, then her eyes drew wide with concern and she grasped Shyloh's arm just a little tighter. "Oh yes," she gasped suddenly. "I heard you had partaken in the battle; how truly terrifying that must have been! You were injured, were you not? How are you feeling?"

Completely taken by surprise by the genuine concern, Shyloh blinked and flushed, then found herself fumbling for words. "I – I'm much better, thank you. Galdiron is exceptionally skilled with healing."

"You were hit with an arrow and poisoned were you not? Yet you kept fighting! How wonderfully brave."

Now Shyloh really was embarrassed. "I assure you, my nick with an arrow was far less severe than so many others," she said quietly and the tent grew quiet. Lastril only nodded solemnly.

"Nevertheless, thank goodness Lord Legolas found you," Lastril gasped. "Had he not been able to come to your aid, I hate to think of what the poison would have done to you."

Shyloh nodded and felt her cheeks flush once again, remembering the conversation she'd had with Legolas just before her extremely embarrassing collapse. "Yes, thankfully he arrived just in time." She tucked her hair behind her ear again just for something to do with her hands but she was still plenty embarrassed.

"We must sit down and talk more," suggested Lastril, suddenly looking hopeful. "I would love to spend more time with you."

"Afraid the Princess has decided to leave the day after tomorrow," an ellon said, and Lastril's eyes saddened.

"So soon?"

Shyloh nodded. "Yes, we're staying for a funeral and then I'll be leaving with Gandalf and another friend back to Rivendell."

"A dwarf?" asked Lastril.

"No, Bilbo, he's a hobbit, actually."

"Hobbits and dwarves, my my, you have quite the interesting friends. I heard about the dwarf, how truly awful. Was he a dear friend of yours? So unusual for our kin to befriend another."

Legolas shot Lastril a warning glare, but the elleth didn't take the hint.

"Fili," Shyloh corrected, suddenly growing irritated. "His name was Fili and yes, he was a great friend."

"Of course," sighed Lastril. "Have you been friends with the dwarves long?"

"Only a few months."

"What must it have been like, to travel with such unruly companions for so long? I can only imagine it didn't come without its challenges."

"Lastril," Legolas warned quietly.

Shyloh tried to keep a straight face but she felt herself grow tense. "They have their moments. Things were a little tense at first but after a while they really weren't so bad."

She could tell she'd said the wrong thing because a flicker of satisfaction crossed Lastril's eyes and just as quick as it appeared it was gone, once again replaced by the innocent and sweet look she wore so easily. Shyloh could also see the exchange of amused looks pass between the ellons in the tent, and they didn't look overly impressed. She realized then, that Lastril was baiting her and she was falling for it. Now all she wanted to do was escape the tent.

Legolas was angry, that much was for certain but Shyloh could hardly tell if it was directed at herself or if something else had ticked him off. Maybe it was because Shyloh was friends with the dwarves, and saying that they 'really weren't so bad' out loud in front of his kin embarrassed him. She decided she didn't want to find out, and turned to him once more.

"Afraid I have to be going," she said quickly, snatching up her quiver. "Thank you once again for having these retrieved for me. Am I to assume my sword is lost?"

"Your sword is at the smiths; they will have it ready before you have to leave," said Legolas. "I will walk you out." Then he took her bow before she could grab it, and placed a hand on the small of her back, intending to usher her from the confines of the tent.

Lastril wasn't done though. "It was such a pleasure meeting you," she said, taking Shyloh's hands in hers and giving them a gentle squeeze. Where Shyloh's hands were slightly rough and calloused from training and her long journey, Lastril's were soft, smooth, and delicate; like a proper Lady's hands should probably be.

"I hope we can chat again," said Lastril. "I would really enjoy that, especially before you leave. I am sure it will be a long time before you make such a journey to visit us again, and would love to soak up as much time with you while you are here. Having another Lady to spend time with would be such a blessing."

"That sounds good," Shyloh said, and before she could say anything else, Legolas was increasing the pressure on her back, telling her it was time to go.

Obviously her time was up in the tent, she figured, and let him lead her outside past Lastril's maids and Arossel. He directed her down the street a short ways but they weren't quite out of earshot before they could hear low laughs issue from the tent behind them, one in particular musical and melodious rose slightly higher than the others. Arossel drew back and walked with Shyloh's guards, trying to give the two of them space.

"Shyloh," he murmured to her.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Taken aback, he frowned. "Embarrass me?"

She stopped walking and shot a look at the tent, where they could still hear soft laughter. He understood what she meant and his eyes softened. She reached for her bow. "Thank you again, I appreciate it." She tried not to let her voice crack but it was hard to do.

He didn't let go of her bow right away, and kept a firm grip on it. "Shyloh," he sighed heavily. "You did not embarrass me. I am not angry with you, I am angry with Lastril. She should not have spoken to you like that."

"It's fine, really," she said.

"Shyloh," he said quietly, and he took her arm gently before she could turn away; a pained expression crossing his face. "Please, just wait a moment. Will you have supper with me tonight?"

She was not expecting that at all and stared at him in complete surprise.

"I just...just to talk. Will you come?" he asked. "Please."

She hesitated. "I am already having supper with Gandalf tonight," she admitted. Arossel shot her a disbelieving look but Shyloh ignored her maid.

"Come after?"

Again, she hesitated and Arossel nodded her head encouragingly from behind Legolas' back.

"I'll think about it."

He nodded stiffly but accepted that was all he would get out of her at the moment. She turned on her heel and hurried off into the streets; bow and quiver in hand. When Arossel passed him, she shot him an irritated look and he knew exactly what the maid was thinking.

Turning back to his tent, disappointment and anger throbbed in his chest. Lastril was still there, smiling sweetly but there was a hint of smugness about her expression that only fueled his disappointment.

"A shame Shyloh will be leaving," she said gently, but it wasn't hard for Legolas to discern there was a major lack of sympathy in her tone. When she caught sight of the angered expression on the Prince's face however, her smile faltered a little.

"She is a Princess, and is to be addressed properly, Lady Lastril," said Legolas as he skimmed over the page of the report he'd been reading earlier.

He did not look up to catch her slightly startled expression at being corrected, her sudden silence was confirmation enough to know his point had been made. She deserved it after all, and in all his years of knowing Lastril he could not recall a time the she-elf improperly addressed someone, especially of higher ranking than she.

For the first time since he bonded with Shyloh did he wish he could put Lastril in her proper place, and inform her that the Princess of Rivendell was his soulmate. Not only that, but it would give him a little peace from the councilor's persistent daugher. It wasn't that she was a bad elf, or that he disliked her, but she was unrelenting and had a nasty habit of getting her way. But if he told her, then surely Lastril would tell her father and the councilor would only cause issues. Shyloh looked stressed and troubled enough without adding more weight onto her shoulders. Even now he could sense her distress and it affected his mood greatly. If not for himself, then at least for Shyloh's sake would he try to keep things quiet until she was on the way back home and out of the reaches of the council.

"She has been a pleasant sight over the last few weeks, even if we did not see too much of her," said one of his guards. The other ellons murmured in agreement.

"She would be more of a pleasant sight if she smiled more," suggested another.

"She has had very little reason to smile as of late," snipped Legolas, and the ellon looked slightly taken aback by the Prince's tone.

"I look forward to her return, should she decide to come back," said someone else. More murmured agreements followed, but Lastril only smoothed her skirts with raised eyebrows.

"I dare say she will hardly wish to return to our halls after the foul way so many have treated her," snapped Legolas, and the tent went quiet. The guards looked up from their papers, quickly catching onto the Prince's suddenly foul mood.

"My Lord, I hope you do not suggest any of us have ill will against her?" asked a guard, but the Prince ignored him.

"Lady Lastril," the Prince said without looking up. He knew he was being rude but his patience had run thin. "Is there anything else you need?"

The elleth looked up sweetly. "No my Lord, I shall take my leave." She curtsied, then in a whirl of green fabric she turned and elegantly left the tent, her lady's maids following behind.

Legolas did not watch her leave, nor did he see the sour expression on Lastril's face once she stepped onto the streets. Instead, he reread the report from earlier for the third time and then tossed it aside. Running a hand over his face, he opened the next one, skimmed its contents, signed it, then passed it on to one of the ellons.

"That one is for Ristedir, see to it that he gets it promptly," he said, and the elf took it without question.

The other guards exchanged confused looks with each other but said nothing as they returned to work. Legolas opened the next scroll but found he could not concentrate on it. The hurt look on Shyloh's face only moments ago weighed heavily on him, and he shoved the parchment aside and strolled from the tent, muttering that he needed to speak with Sidhel and would be back soon. No one questioned him, but watched him go with worried looks.


Shyloh tucked her cloak around her shoulders and stepped hesitantly into the street. Evening had fallen and the chilly air definitely had a bite to it. Arossel left only moments ago, but not before ensuring Shyloh was well set for the evening. Gandalf had been an unpleasant supper guest, and the news he'd given her only added to the heavy weight on her shoulders. She didn't know why, but she found herself heading towards the blue tent. She supposed the two of them did have a lot to talk about, but getting through Fili's funeral in one piece was probably her biggest concern right now.

Even though it was later in the evening, the streets were still alive. While the city was receiving lots of attention as far as cleanup went, it had a long way to go before it would even closely resemble the great city it once was.

The command tents were still lit with lamplight, and guards and captains still hurried about. She wondered if the cleanup would take much longer before the elves were able to return home.

He stood inside the tent, leaning over the table with his hands splayed out before him much like he had earlier when she came; a hard expression upon his face. Sidhel stood at the other end of the table in much the same position; parchment spread out under his hands. Nodron was facing a map and scribbling something on it while Sidhel spoke. She couldn't help but wonder if Legolas had taken a break at all. He, like the others, looked positively worn out. The battle itself might have been over, but the after effects were ever lingering.

He looked up just then, as if he sensed her, and his eyes softened as they glided over the purple fabric of her dress. Stepping forwards, she came to the edge of the tent and stopped.

"You came," he said, and Sidhel ceased speaking. The two guards looked up and glanced between her and Legolas briefly.

"You asked," she said.

"I think we can take over for now," Sidhel said, unmoving from his spot. He glanced at Legolas and nodded once. "You haven't rested yet today, or much at all for the last three days."

"There has hardly been time," Legolas countered but his friends weren't having it.

"Go," Nodron said. "We could use a break from you and your orders anyway."

Shyloh smiled and when the Prince looked up at her that was all the encouragement he needed.

Sidhel and Nodron watched with sad smiles as Legolas and Shyloh stepped out into the night.


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