- Chapter 54 -


Legolas leaned back in his seat with a sigh. Finally, at long last, the council meeting was over for the day. Sidhel and Nodron were nowhere to be seen but that was alright by him. If he thought council meetings were long and troublesome in the Woodland Realm, it was nothing compared to here. Lord Braigon made sure of that, and subtly reminded the Prince of Lord Iamben. He shivered at the thought.

Although the Lord's worries were not directed at the Princess necessarily, Legolas still had a feeling Braigon felt she was partly to blame for the trouble along the northern and eastern borders. It was a ridiculous notion really, considering the Princess did not even come close to one of those borders at all during her travels.

The Lord's argument included the fact that had she not been separated from her escorts - meaning her brothers - that troops would not have been forced to abandon their posts to search for her; opening up the Lothlorien borders to a possible attack.

The arrival of the Princess in Lorien though, seemed as good a reason as any to lay blame, although Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn quickly sated the Lord's worries by declaring the Princess had absolutely nothing to do with the recent issues at the borders. The lack of guards to the north and east were clearly nothing Lady Galadriel was worried about, seeing as how the positions had been temporarily filled in their absence.

The Dunlendings seemed to have moved on, and though that thought was troubling he was relieved they would darken the edges of this grand forest a little less. Orcs on the other hand, seemed to flow out of Moria on a regular basis and that indeed, was cause for concern.

Just another reason to curse the dwarves.

A flick of white hair caught his eye along the forest floor and he leaned forward slightly in his seat, but as he got a better look he felt only disappointment. In Dale and Mirkwood she was easy to pick out among the crowd, but here where silver was a common hair color she blended in far easier. Four days lay between the day of their arrival and the present moment, and he had only seen the Princess twice in that amount of time. It seemed Arwen put it upon herself to claim every free moment with Shyloh, but perhaps that was just as well.

Legolas spent most of his time in council meetings the last couple of days and they were just as mentally draining as the ones back home. He sipped his wine slowly but then set it down. It was good, but just not quite the same as home. His father, he could not deny, had excellent taste in wine.

He would have happily sat by himself the remainder of the evening, but he really did need to look for Sidhel. His father's position on Thranduil's council meant he got to sit in on the meetings, even though Legolas knew he did not do it willingly. Sidhel's strengths lay with weaponry and combat training; not lengthy diplomatic discussions. The moment the council meeting was over, Sidhel was one of the first out of the hall and Legolas would have smiled at his friend's displeasure, if it had not been for the prior conversation about the Princess and the issues at the border. Finding himself just as irritated as his friend, Legolas quickly followed him out and made straight for his talan.

It seemed fate had the same idea, because Sidhel appeared suddenly. Without an invite from Legolas, he poured himself a glass of wine and sat down in a chair next to him, stretching out his long legs across the smooth, silver wooden floor planks of the talan. Legolas gave him a halfhearted smile.

"I do not know how you deal with it," Sidhel muttered between sips of his drink. "We have only been in council for two days and already I want to run for the hills."

At that, Legolas did chuckle and he shook his head. "I am more accustomed to council meetings than you are mellon nin but even I found that to be a little intense."

Sidhel scowled. "I wish you had not suggested I join you."

"I was not the one who suggested it. Lady Galadriel asked me to invite you, since your father holds a position on my father's council."

Sidhel snorted. "I am about as useless in those meetings as a brick."

Legolas chuckled again. "You have very little faith in your diplomatic skills."

"What diplomatic skills? I thought Lord Braigon was going to leap across the table after me. You know who he reminds me of?"

Legolas nodded. "Yes, he reminds me of him too."

"Perhaps I did get a little protective of her," muttered Sidhel as he took another drink.

Raising an eyebrow, Legolas nodded again. "I will not deny even I was surprised."

Sidhel did not look apologetic though. "She is your soulmate mellon nin, and if I had not said those things I was afraid you would."

The Prince would not deny that Lord Braigon and some of the others councilors had been overly verbal when it came to the Princess' arrival in Lorien, and how it coincided with the issues the marchwardens were facing at the borders. The two issues were completely unrelated, especially along the northern edges of the forest.

"Yes," Legolas sighed and pinched the bridge between his eyes. "She is."

"Have you spoken to her yet?" Sidhel asked but Legolas shook his head. "Have you even seen her?"

"She walks with Arwen mostly, or Lady Galadriel. They go into the gardens and have tea."

Sidhel raised an eyebrow. "Keeping track of her are you?"

Legolas shot him an annoyed look. "Simply observing, that's all."

The amusement in Sidhel's eyes made Legolas pick up his wine glass again.

"Where has Nodron disappeared to?"

"I am not sure," admitted Legolas. "But knowing him he will probably be at the training grounds or somewhere in the general vicinity. I believe he high tailed it out of here when I suggested he join us."

"I don't believe I have ever seen him disappear so quickly."

They laughed at that which lightened their moods considerably.

"What do you think of the Princess' upcoming training schedule?" Sidhel asked after a length of silence. He noted Legolas shifted just the slightest in his seat.

"It seems like a good schedule."

Sidhel turned to Legolas when the Prince said no more about it and raised his eyebrows. "What do you think of the one that will be instructing her?"

Now Legolas really did shift in his seat, and Sidhel smothered a grin.

"Haldir is one of the most skilled instructors in Lorien."

"But not the best."

"He is the lead marchwarden for Lórien, but she will not do her training solely with him," said Legolas. Sidhel tried to smother a grin but Legolas caught him and rolled his eyes. "Are you worried about the two of them working together?"

Sidhel shrugged a shoulder. "Haldir does not seem like the type to interfere with your bond with the Princess."

"So that is what you are concerned about."

Sidhel's face reddened slightly. "Have you not seen all the ellyn that stare at her?" Legolas grimaced. "That's what I thought."

The Prince rubbed his hand over his face irritably. "It has not escaped my attention how anyone looks at her, no matter where we are."

Sidhel laughed again. "It is the same look the ellith give you whenever you enter a room you know. She notices that."

Legolas grimaced again and Sidhel fed off of his friend's discomfort.

"The feast is tomorrow night in celebration of her arrival in Lorien. Perhaps you should make an effort to ask her to go with you before someone else does? It seems all of Lorien is invited to attend."

Sighing heavily, Legolas downed the rest of his wine. The feast was announced last night by Lady Galadriel herself, and had been the talk of the city ever since.

Legolas eyed his friend up with annoyance. "I suppose it would do me no good to order you to get lost, would it?"


Shyloh grimaced. Her attempts at getting accustomed to her new bow were failing. She missed her old bow. It would take a while, she knew, to get used to the different feel of the new one but still, when she fired the next arrow and it landed to the right of the intended target, it did not help boost her self confidence.

Sighing, she drew another arrow. The archery range was surprisingly deserted and that was fine by her. She did not want anyone to witness this. Firing, the arrow hit the target with a thunk and she winced. It was better than the last one, but still not where she wanted it. Emptying the quiver, she marched across the range to the board. Her mind was buzzing; perhaps that was why she couldn't concentrate.

She pulled the arrows out of the board a little harder than necessary and spun around to do it all over again. She stopped in her tracks and blinked in surprise when she saw him standing across the way from her. Embarrassed by her sulky performance while retrieving her arrows, she made her way over to him almost reluctantly.

"What are you doing here?" she asked when she set her quiver down, not making eye contact.

Legolas looked across the range at the target and then back to the bow in her hand. "I was wondering if you wanted some help. Getting accustomed to a new bow can be tricky."

She looked down at the bow she held. The silvery wood of the handle was very different from the hardwood of her Rivendell bow. Sighing in defeat, she shrugged a shoulder.

"Do you have time?" she asked, and her eyes flickered back toward the city, and he knew what she was thinking.

"I am done with council meetings for today. Or at least, I hope."

She tried to give him a halfhearted smile but it came out more like a grimace. "I do not think I envy you on that end."

"Just wait, I am sure your day is coming," he said after he picked up her quiver. She groaned and he smiled. "They are not always so bad."

"I think I am highly unqualified to participate in anything like that."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"I would be. Just ask -," she cut off before she said Elladan's name and shook her head. "Never mind. Maybe someday." She tucked her hair behind her ear while he watched quietly. "So, Teacher, what advice do you have for getting acclimated to a new bow?"

He accepted the change of topic easily, and as he instructed her she tried to keep herself relaxed and focused.

"You can hold your hand down a little lower on this bow. It's a bit more flexible than your old one." He stepped behind her then repositioned her hand and adjusted her stance.

Her skin tingled when his fingers brushed her hand and she tried to shake the sensation out of her mind. She needed to concentrate.

"Fire when ready," he said from behind her.

Letting out her breath, she released the arrow and it sailed straight into the target. It landed with a thunk and even though it was just to the left of where she wanted it, it was still better than what she did earlier.

"Better," he said. "Again."

She followed his instructions; listening intently to what he told her to do and eventually she settled into a new rhythm. By the time she went through her second quiver under his tutelage, she was almost smiling.

"Much better." His approval hit her and she turned around on her heel to face him.

"Thanks," she said and he grinned.

"I am happy to help. It takes a few quivers to fully break in a new bow and to get adjusted to it."

"Just how many have you been through in your lifetime?" she wondered as they walked down to retrieve her arrows.

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "A few."

"Oh come on, are we talking like ten? Twenty? Fifty?" she pressed until she got a reaction. "Seventy?" There! He grimaced.

"Seventy seven."

Her eyes widened. "Keeping track? And here I was feeling guilty and sad about my one."

He grinned. "I suppose you do get attached."

"Seventy seven bows. I can't imagine how many arrows that must be."

"I'm trying not to think about it."

She laughed. "Does it make you feel old?"

"Getting there." He watched her eyes dance with laughter and without realizing it, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. He could tell the gesture surprised her and she stilled when his fingers grazed her cheek. A slight blush crept up her cheeks. He needed to talk to her, but hated the fact he was about to ruin the moment. "What I said the other night about Boss, I still stand by it."

The smile faded from her face and she looked away off into the trees somewhere, then placed the tip of her bow on top of her boot.

"I figured this conversation would come up sooner or later."

He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Look Shyloh, I made a very valid point about Boss. I do not understand why you cannot see that."

"Are we really getting into this right now?" she snipped, shooting him a glare.

"I think it is something we need to discuss."

"What is there to discuss? You've made it perfectly clear what you think of Boss."

"I do not trust him."

"You don't have to, you're not riding him."

He shook his head with heavy irritation. "If we are supposed to have a future together, I need to know that you are safe, and riding a horse that has not only killed you once but could easily do so again does not guarantee your safety."

"My safety? You want to talk about my safety? I'm not the one doing border patrol every day; risking my neck against giant spiders that shouldn't even exist."

His frown deepened. "I do what I have to do to keep my people safe. Running border patrol is a necessary duty."

"So, your safety is not important, but mine is? I'm not the kind of elf to sit still and look pretty; my apologies if I ever gave you that impression."

"You're being completely unreasonable. I'm not asking you to get a different horse, I'm simply telling you that I do not trust him to take care of you the way he needs too. He needs to learn and adapt."

"He needs to change. I get it. Everything else has changed, why not him too?"

"He needs to be prepared. This is the world you live in now."

"You and Elladan must sit down and chat on a nightly basis because I'm pretty sure you two are reading out of the same book. By the way," she huffed. "We're off to a great start; this relationship of ours. Spiders and dragons and five army battles are a great foundation for any relationship to build off of."

"I will not deny it hasn't exactly been ideal. I am just as unprepared as you are."

"Well at least we agree on something," she snapped.

He ran a hand across his face and stared over her head while she yanked the arrows out of the board. She could feel his anger and frustration through the thread that connected them, much like he could hers, and it sent a tense shiver down her body. She stuffed the arrows firmly into the quiver and shouldered it. She clutched her bow so hard that her knuckles were white and they nearly matched the shade of the wood.

Legolas looked around the archery field. Much to his surprise, they were still alone and he wondered if their raised voices had scared off anyone approaching or if they'd just been that lucky.

"I think you've gotten the hang of your new bow," he said; lowering his voice so he spoke quietly.

"I think so too," she snipped. "Thanks a lot." She turned on her heel and marched back in the direction of her room, not bothering to look back. She could feel eyes on her back as she stalked off of the archery field and then they were gone and she shoved the link between them as far into the depths of her mind as possible.


Elladan watched her storm across the threshold of the elegant house, clutching the bow in her hand in a death grip. The anger radiating off of her was evident and though it startled him, he felt rooted to his seat in the corner, as if his muscles had been seized up and he could not properly move. He wanted to ask what happened, but the door to her room slammed only a minute later and the tiniest click of the lock told him she didn't want to be disturbed.

"Change is hard for her to accept, which is understandable, but especially when it is forced."

He knew the sound of that voice and he turned his head just the slightest to acknowledge his daernaneth's presence. He frowned at her words and took a deep breath.

"She must change, or she will not survive in this world," he said quietly.

"Do not speak in such a way," Galadriel said gently, but Elladan could hear the reprimand in her voice. "She changes everyday; have you not seen it?"

He nodded after a moment as she came around and stood in front of him; her white beaded gown and long golden hair reflecting the evening sun.

"Yes, I have seen it, but sometimes she does not act like it."

"She was not raised as you and your brother were Elladan, and to us she has only been here a short time, but to her it seems like many years."

"She will get herself killed if she does not train harder and become better prepared. She could have been killed."

"You see only her failures and not her achievements."

"Achievements? She left home without consulting our father to travel with dwarves to a dragon ravaged mountain. She fought in a war she should not have and nearly got herself killed."

"She followed her instincts and pledged her services to Thorin Oakenshield on his quest to reclaim Erebor, providing his company with protection and aid. Through the battle, she risked possible death in order to save someone that became a friend to her despite their prior issues, and saved Thorin by slaying Azog the Defiler; altering the entire fate of Erebor and Middle Earth. She broke down barriers between dwarves and elves and by doing so, has had her name etched into the very stone of the mountain for the rest of Erebor's existence; further bringing our people closer together. I do not see failures, Elladan, only accomplishments.

"You feel guilty about your decision to send her away and that is understandable. She is a capable elf, and not without skill. You did not see her in battle, otherwise you would not feel so guilty."

"You sent her up to Ravenhill," he said. "Why?"

"I did not send her, she went on her own accord. I only aided when I saw fit. The rest was all her."

"You should not have interfered."

"She needed to save Thorin, Elladan, that was her fate. She would either save Thorin's life or she wouldn't; it was not my calling but Eru's. Do not let your heart be troubled so," she said softly, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

"And what of her and the Prince?"

Galadriel laughed softly. "They have many years yet, and will no doubt have their bumps along the way. The bump they face now is only minor, and should not be doted on quite so heavily. They will work it out before the end. I trust in your father's visions, for very rarely is he wrong."

When Galadriel took her leave, he pondered her words but felt only mildly comforted.


She touched the sapphire studded circlet on her forehead one last time, ensuring it was centered perfectly. She disliked the thought of wearing one, but she obviously had no choice. The necklace she was given to wear felt heavy against her neck. It matched her circlet with a nickle sized sapphire surrounded by a circle of small white diamonds. It was beautiful and when Lady Galadriel gave it to her that morning to wear she'd literally been without words. It was too much, in Shyloh's humble opinion, and ever since receiving the birthstone necklace from her family so many years ago, had never worn anything else.

Touching her hand to it, the pendant felt cold and she retracted her fingers from it almost instantly. It also marked the first jewelry, aside from the circlets she had back in Rivendell and now the one she wore, that she received since arriving in Arda.

She let her hands fall down to her sides. Tonight she was a Princess and the feast was in her honor.

She didn't want to go.

She didn't want to be the center of attention.

She didn't want everyone staring.

A knock on her door pulled her away from her miserable thoughts, and without turning around allowed whomever was waiting to enter. Arwen floated through the door with fluid gracefulness and beamed. Shyloh's face turned bright red when she met her sister's eye.

Of course, Arwen looked stunning in her deep red and gold gown. The golden circlet upon her brow was inlaid with red rubies and she wore a necklace that was very similar to Shyloh's, except also inlaid with a ruby instead of a sapphire.

"You look stunning," Arwen said as she looked Shyloh up and down carefully while checking to make sure nothing was out of place.

She knew the similar pieces of jewelry were created specifically to mark their newly formed sisterhood.

Shyloh's deep blue gown pooled off of her shoulders in waves of silk and sheer fabrics. The silver trim shimmered in the candlelight of her room and the sleeves draped down to the ground in so many layers Shyloh didn't know where they began and where they ended. Galadriel's personal seamstresses made Arwen and Shyloh's gowns specifically for this evening, but again, Shyloh felt it was too much.

She'd say nothing against it though, because that would be rude.

"You look beautiful," Shyloh sighed, and it was true. Arwen's rich brown hair accented the gold and red hues of her gown perfectly. "Those colors are perfect on you."

Arwen blushed slightly and smiled genuinely. "You're too kind," she said softly, and ran her fingers through Shyloh's unmanageable curls.

"They never cooperate," Shyloh muttered as she stared at her reflection in the long mirror in front of her. She reached up to pull a curl over her shoulder with a frown but Arwen laughed.

"They are beautiful and shine like fresh fallen snow." Arwen ran her fingers through the white locks once more, fine tuning the curls and softening them by breaking them apart and curling them around her slender fingers.

"How did you do that?" Shyloh asked as she looked closer at her hair.

"I know a few tricks for unmanageable hair."

Shyloh blinked in surprise. "That actually looks good!"

Arwen laughed. "You sound so surprised."

"No seriously," Shyloh chuckled. "I can never get it to flow so nicely together."

"When we have more time I will show you how I do mine."

Shyloh blinked in surprise again. She'd never sat down even with her girlfriends to do each other's hair, and even though it sounded completely girly, she happily agreed.

"Why do you look so worried sister?"

Letting her shoulders sag just a notch, Shyloh breathed in deeply through her nose and then sighed.

"He's mad at me."

A sympathetic look crossed Arwen's fair face while she continued running her fingers through Shyloh's hair. Arwen didn't have to ask who that someone was.

"He is not one to be mad for long," sighed Arwen but Shyloh shook her head.

"What's considered a 'long time' in this world? Because four days seems like a long time to me. We got into an argument yesterday and haven't spoken since."

"He worries for you, that is all. It is only natural to feel that way towards someone you bonded with."

Shyloh cringed.

"You cannot tell me you don't feel worried for him, I can tell you do. It is in your eyes."

As if she were trying to erase any evidence of emotion, Shyloh blinked and straightened. "He's plenty capable of taking care of himself."

Arwen smiled softly. "I know you feel for him," she said, brushing a lock of white hair back over Shyloh's shoulder. The sensation sent goosebumps down her arms.

"It's all so confusing."

"Why do you think you need to understand it so quickly?"

Shyloh hesitated and she licked her lips. The frown between her eyes deepened. "Ada says that Legolas and I will get married in the future," she said slowly and delicately, as if the very words were condemning herself. "But I can't see it. I can't see us being together. I can't see us getting married, ever. We're too different. I'm too different."

"That day is not to come for a long time, and many things can change."

Shyloh turned to face Arwen and looked her straight in the eye. "I can't fall in love with him."

Pained sympathy crossed Arwen's beautiful brown eyes and she brushed Shyloh's cheek with her hand. "It is not something you need to rush. Love develops differently for each of us."

Shyloh shook her head. "No, you don't understand. I cannot love him. Not now, not ever."

"Is there someone else?"

"No," Shyloh gasped. "But don't you see? I'll lose him in the end, just like I do everyone else."

"I don't understand."

"My real parents are dead. My adopted parents: gone. My brother: gone. My friends and aunt and uncle: gone. The only home I ever knew: gone. Don't you see? It's a pattern. Everyone I have ever loved or grown close to is gone. Whose to say I won't wake up tomorrow and everything will be gone? I am completely and utterly terrified to lose another family."