- Chapter 60 -


Feren bowed curtly and disappeared from his office, leaving Legolas annoyed and irritated. He prayed to Eru that the negotiations wouldn't take more than a few weeks tops, but already Lastril was planning on spending a month there, and was insisting she needed to bring extra clothes and another pack horse.

Legolas rubbed his forehead. He told Feren to do whatever he needed to make her happy, which in turn would keep the aid from constantly pestering him with delivering her unrelenting questions, as long as it was within reason. They were not moving to the mountain, so he told her for the sake of traveling safely, she was only allowed two pack horses. Then she asked for another so that she could take samples of what the Woodland elves had to offer, so he granted that but his patience was wearing thin.

He shoved the papers in front of him aside. For the past week, his troops rested and prepared themselves for their journey to Erebor. He knew Lord Iamben insisted Legolas take his entire troop, (for the safety of his daughter you see) but they did not need thirty guards to reach Erebor. He hand picked the top warriors in his troop to act as her guard during their journey, and was forced to cave when she insisted her personal maid, Farril, join them. The King approved that one so Legolas let it slide.

For the past couple weeks he'd been avoiding his father at all costs, and Lastril. In fact, he'd hidden himself in his office or in other parts of the Realm purposely so that he would not have to deal with her constant presence. He was not normally so evasive when it came to others, but in this case, he almost felt like he was betraying Shyloh in a way.

He'd contemplated writing to her about what was going on, informing her he would be taking a trip with Lastril to Erebor and discussing trade agreements, but each time he picked up the pen to write to her, he'd set it back down. He still hadn't heard back from her after his last letter from a few weeks ago, and it pained him to have to wait so long. In fact, its been months since she'd even written him.

Sidhel teased him at first, calling him a love struck puppy, and perhaps he had been, but this year the letters seemed to suddenly dwindle. He wrote as he normally did, and always sent a letter with the messenger when he departed for Lothlorien, but he never heard back. Sidhel's teasing ended promptly and he became sympathetic, telling the Prince that perhaps she'd just been busy or something of the like.

He leaned back in his seat and searched for the thread that linked them. All week it had been silent, and he'd even allowed his own warm coating to slip from time to time, hoping it would draw her attention back to him, but there was nothing, not even a waver.

Valar was it maddening!

He had half a mind to change plans and head straight for Lothlorien instead. Knowing he couldn't do that, he picked up the pen once more and began writing. Once he finished the short letter, he folded and sealed it, then passed it onto his aid, who gave him a curt bow before disappearing out the door to deliver it to the messenger.

He didn't think anything was wrong, but he grew even more worried as the days passed. Surely Lothlorien would have sent word if something was amiss. He knew she was part of the border patrol now, and that hadn't sat well with him at all for a long time.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't think twice about the knock at the door, and allowed entry of the person behind it. What a fool, he should have thought to ask who it was.

Her bright smile spread across her face the moment she entered the room but he didn't straighten in his chair or stand to greet her, he was too busy kicking himself. She curtsied and then clasped her hands in front of her and stepped forward, heading straight for him.

"So this is where you are hiding out," she said sweetly, her eyes raking in the parchment covered desk before him. He had a lot of work to do before he left, and his father's instructions to rest were basically tossed out the window. He had no time to rest, despite not having to run patrols.

"Lady Lastril," he said indifferently. "What can I help you with this morning?"

She gestured to the chair before her with a questioning look. "May I?"

He tilted his head albeit reluctantly, granting her permission. It would have been proper for him to offer the seat to her immediately, but he wasn't feeling very generous at the moment. He knew he was being childish, and he had to reprimand himself to be on his best behavior, despite wanting to tell her to leave. They had grown up together after all, which meant he'd known her for years. At one point in their youth they had been friends, and he was sure she could recall those memories just as easily as he did.

She hadn't always been like this, selfish and demanding, but her father spoiled her from day one and over the years Legolas learned to accept that that was who she was. She liked getting her way, but frankly so did Legolas.

"You have been very absent lately," she said, filling the empty room with the sound of her voice. Instead of the snippy tone she used so often, she seemed almost genuinely concerned. "I was worried I was not going to be able to catch you before we departed."

He straightened in his chair and folded his hands over his middle. "What is troubling you, my Lady?"

"The trip to Erebor," she admitted almost shyly, and the smile slipped from her face. "I have overheard guards talking this week about orc movements to the east."

"You are worried the road will not be safe," he concluded, and she nodded slowly.

If he were being honest with himself, this was probably one of the first true emotions she showed, and he could tell it was difficult for her to talk about it. Her hands fidgeted nervously in her lap. She was afraid, and it was clearly showing in her eyes.

"The orc packs that have been spotted have been small in number and destroyed, there was a slight increase in their sightings but nothing more out of the ordinary," he explained, his tone becoming more gentle and understanding.

She did not travel outside of the Realm like he did, and frankly neither did many of those that lingered here, so he could not hold it against her for being worried. Though she traveled to Erebor after the war, it was the first time she'd ever been outside of the Kingdom in her life. She had an entire host to keep her safe so she had no need to worry, but now their numbers only tallied sixteen, a small company compared to her prior trip.

He sighed inwardly. It was his duty to ensure the safety of every member of the Woodland Realm, that included Lastril, no matter how he felt about her.

She grimaced. "I have heard that orc movements have increased, though I do not think you would say otherwise if it were not true."

He raised his eyebrows. "I assure you Lastril," he said as he leaned forward in his seat. "You and Farril will be quite safe with us."

She let a small smile play at the edges of her lips and she stared him straight in the eye. "Thank you ernil nin. I feel much better about all this."

He actually smiled in return and she blushed.

"I apologize for being such a burden upon you, but I won't deny I am looking forward to this trip."

He looked at her curiously. "Are you?"

She nodded, and her smile grew. "I have heard rumors of how grand the mountain is; what with all the changes the King has made. Have you been inside?"

He shook his head. "No, I have not. But I have heard those same rumors as well."

"Is King Thorin as tempered as they say?"

Legolas shrugged a shoulder. "I cannot say I have ever spoken to him," he admitted. His thoughts drifted back to Shyloh and how easily she got along with the dwarves. Sweet, sweet Shyloh could probably get a wolf to purr if she was allowed to scratch behind his ear. She was just that kind of person.

Lastril nodded her head understandingly. "I am sure it will be an interesting visit then."

He nodded. "I am sure it will be."

"I know things have been tense between us lately," she said, and she blushed. "And I am hoping we can once again be friends like we used to be."

That caught him off guard and he blinked in surprise. This was coming from someone who had spread rumors about their impending betrothal to anyone who would lend an ear? They were friends in their childhood days, many years ago, but those days were long gone. He didn't know if being friends with her was something he could easily do, especially given everything that had transpired.

The sincere look in her eye wasn't enough for him to believe her so easily. He still felt strongly that there was an ulterior motive to her coming along, but he only gave her a stiff nod. It was enough to end their conversation and send her away smiling, even if it did make him uncomfortable.

"Thank you my old friend," she said gently. "For everything."

She rose and curtsied once more, and he stood from his seat because that was the polite thing to do when a Lady took her leave, and she flashed him one more smile before closing the door behind her.

He let his head fall backward and he glared up at the ceiling. What a mess he had found himself in.

The Lastril he talked to just now reminded him so much of the young she-elf he used to know, the very same elleth whose braids he tugged as a child, the same one he raced around the palace with. Now that he looked back, there had always been talk of the two of them possibly marrying, but until the last few years, it had never been mentioned, suggested, or brought up in any way, shape, or form.

If Shyloh hadn't shown up in the woods that day, if he hadn't laid eyes upon her at all, would things have been different? Would he have caved from the pressure of his father's council members and taken Lastril as his wife? She was a suitable choice, he could not deny that, but he harbored no feelings towards her.

Those thoughts were not something he wanted to dwell on, and as he touched the link once more he sighed out loud, heavily. There was nothing. The silent treatment from Shyloh was becoming unbearable.

Tomorrow they would leave for Erebor, and he ran a hand over his face before pouring himself a drink.


The crimson red dress draped off of Shyloh's shoulders in more layers than she knew what to do with. Arwen's eyes glanced over her approvingly. The New Year's feast was in full swing. In a matter of hours it would be another year for her to mark off of her calendar, another notch to add to the books.

She sipped her wine slowly and smiled at all the happy faces as she stood next to her sister. The emerald green gown made Arwen look like a goddess, but the colors were symbolic to Shyloh in more ways than one. Arwen didn't know, and neither did anyone else, that the red and green gowns the two of them wore symbolized Christmas. They would never know, either, because they didn't celebrate Christmas in Arda.

It was a tiny gesture, a very mild one in fact, that linked her to her other world. Christmas had always been her favorite holiday but what was the use of explaining old traditions to those who wouldn't understand anyway? She'd always kept those things to herself, celebrating in the smallest way here or there. Lighting specific candles for her parents' and Mack's birthdays, or planting a flower bush here or there. They were the small things that helped her remember them.

No one else had to know her secrets. So, after begging Arwen to give her the option to choose the colors of their gowns, her sister relinquished all rights to Shyloh, happily obliging her this time. The small golden stars that were stitched onto their skirts had meaning behind them, though she didn't feel the need to explain that they represented the golden star that adorned the top of their Christmas trees every year since she could remember.

Maybe it was childish of her not to share these small tidbits with anyone, but these small acts only reminded her just how alone she was sometimes.

She was pulled onto the dance floor by many that night, and she drank more wine than normal, the one time of the year she indulged and acted like the other happy elves surrounding her. If anyone noticed her tipping back a little more than usual they said nothing. Even Haldir was anxious to dance with her, and she let him lead her around the dance floor. He held her a little too close though, and perhaps that was the wine taking effect.

"You look stunning tonight," he said in her ear, and she blushed furiously.

"Thank you," she said shyly.

When the song came to an end and he didn't let her go, she gave him a wavering look.

"I know he's your soulmate, but, it wouldn't be fair for you to be alone tonight," he said, drawing her closer.

Her face reddened. "Haldir-,"

He cut her off when his fingers brushed the side of her cheek, but she drew back. It felt wrong, so wrong, and she hated that he was ruining tonight. This was one feast she actually enjoyed celebrating because it marked the start of a new year; a fresh start for her, and the confusion she was feeling right now was dampening her spirits.

No, Legolas was not here and even though her heart ached for his touch, it didn't mean she was going to go falling into Haldir's arms. It just didn't feel right.

She pulled back out of his arms and drew her hand from his. A confused look crossed his eyes first but then he straightened.

"He is not here with you," he said quietly. "He has not been here for over three years. If he loved you he would not have left you behind for so long."

She frowned. "He had his reasons for leaving."

"He has not even written you in months, Nimbrethil," Haldir said, stepping closer to her.

"He's been busy," she countered, but he shook his head, so she tried a different approach. "He's my soulmate."

Her voice caught in her throat and he gave her a sorrowful look. "One kiss does not mean he is your soulmate. Others have not asked to court you because he kissed you before he left, but that does not mean -,"

"You don't understand Haldir," she said quickly, cutting him off. "Legolas and I bonded at first sight."

There was a heavy pause between them as the music changed and a lively tune started playing. He frowned at first but then he looked angry.

"You never said anything about bonding at first sight," he said in a deep voice.

Her eyes widened. "I just assumed when I said we were soulmates that others knew it meant we bonded."

He shook his head. "The two are not always connected that way. Excuse me," he said, stepping back. He bowed his head to her and then he disappeared into the crowd, leaving her standing there on the side of the dance floor alone and completely confused.

What in the world just happened?

She drew in a breath and realized she needed fresh air. Slipping through the crowd of merry elves, she disappeared into the night, feeling slightly ashamed and embarrassed. Had she led Haldir on? Was it her fault she hadn't explained the whole 'bonding' thing to him upfront? Honestly, she didn't feel like she should have had to. Haldir saw the kiss Legolas gave her upon his departure, didn't he? Were there really others here that wanted to court her? Was she really a 'court-able' type of elleth?

She shook her head. Maybe the wine was really getting to her after all. She hurried to the stables, the one place she knew would be empty tonight. Boss snorted when he saw her and raised his head almost eagerly. She ran her hands over his fuzzy face and kissed him square on the muzzle.

"Hello handsome," she said quietly. He flared his nostrils and took in her scent before wuffling his lips against her cheek. "I missed you, too."

He let his nose linger against her and she let his hot breath float across her skin. It was easy for her to lean into his warmth and she was soon wrapping her arms around his neck; holding him close.

This was the first place Legolas kissed her, the place where she glimpsed what their bond could really mean.

The sound of hooves approaching was unusual for this time of night, and when she turned around she was met with a sight she was not expecting. The arrival of messengers was not exactly uncommon, but she'd never been here to receive them before. He dismounted his horse and gave her an appraising look.

"My Lady?" he asked, taking a step toward her. "My apologies for interrupting, but are you alright?"

She didn't realize her cheeks were wet and she quickly wiped them away. Faced with the memories she longed to turn into reality once more and the fact that she probably just ruined her friendship with Haldir, and the wine she consumed all night, sure, why not cry about it into the mane of her animal friend?

"No, no," she sniffed. "I am fine." He looked relieved in the darkness of the stables. "You are just arriving from the Woodland Realm?"

She took in the clasp on his cloak and he nodded.

"Yes, my Lady," he said, bowing his head. "I have just arrived on an errand."

"You've arrived just in time for the feast," she said, and he turned his head slightly toward the sound of music.

"It seems that way, though I was delayed by two days on my trip, and I will not be staying long," he said, reaching up to his saddle and pulled the straps loose from his pack. "You are the Princess Shyloh of Rivendell?"

Her face flushed in the darkness. "Yes, I am." Did she dare ask if he brought a letter from the Prince? Was it silly to hope for something so simple after so many months of silence?

"I brought you a letter from Ernil nin Legolas," he said suddenly, as if he could read her mind, and her heart literally skipped a beat.

"You did?"

"Aye, my Lady," he said, drawing out a sealed piece of parchment and holding it out to her. "It worked out well that I ran into you so soon after my arrival, I was told you might be on border patrol and I was asked to give this to you personally. I feel better knowing I will not have to hunt you down on the borders."

She smiled and took the letter from him. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

He bowed his head with a smile before departing, pulling his horse along with him to another part of the stable. When he was out of sight, she twirled around and looked back at Boss, holding the letter between both hands excitedly.

"He wrote!" she whispered to him. He stretched his nose out and sniffed the paper she held, then turned away as if he were disappointed it wasn't something he could eat. She kissed his cheek before hurrying from the stables.

She wanted to be alone when she read his letter, and her room was the only place that would offer her the privacy she wanted. She didn't want to go back to the feast anyway, not since she realized just how strong Haldir's feelings were for her and realizing her own blindness. Other ellyn were interested in her, and realizing that just made her feel like a fool. Now the looks she received made sense. Legolas' kiss hadn't sealed their fate, it only helped to deter other guys from approaching her in that way.

Shaking her head, she closed the door to her room behind her and sank into the comfortable armchair beside the fireplace. She ripped open the seal and read it slowly. It was short but that was fine by her until she read what it had to say.

December 4th

Dearest Shyloh,

Many days and nights have passed since I last saw your fair face. The years pass me by in the blink of an eye so I beg your forgiveness if it seems like an age to you. I have been in debate for many months now, unsure of the best way to approach this subject. So much has changed in such a short amount of time, so I will keep this short and sweet. I am traveling with the Lady Lastril to discuss trade agreements with neighboring kingdoms. The two of us have renewed our broken friendship after many years apart, and it pains me to explain this in a letter, for I know you and I had shared something special. As my friendship with Lady Lastril has grown, I have come to realize that you and I could never be. There is a hole in my heart for causing you any grief or pain, but I know the one to fully claim your heart is out there somewhere. I am only sorry it could not be me. I beg your forgiveness and my deepest and most sincere apologies.

Yours truly,

Legolas

Shyloh read the letter once more and then let her hands fall to her lap. She didn't understand. At first she thought it was a joke, but it was in his hand, with his signature, and it had his personal seal. She sat there alone in her room as understanding finally settled in, and she felt her heart completely shatter.


The horses snorted and some pranced anxiously, ready to be off on their journey. Frozen leaves crunched and cracked beneath their hooves in the caves and their hot breaths came out of their nostrils, giving the elves the impression they were fierce dragons in the early morning hours as the sun started to make itself known over the horizon.

Legolas checked the saddle once more as a bright eyed looking Lastril stepped up to his side. She was clearly a morning person, and her hair and clothes were as pristine as they ever were despite the early hours. Legolas on the other hand, would have preferred to sleep in an extra hour, not having fallen asleep until the early hours of the morning before he was woken from his slumber and he dragged himself up.

She gave him a smile before her gloved hand came to rest on the cheek of the bay horse he was checking over once more.

"Thank you for doing that," she said, looking at the saddle he was currently tightening. "I am afraid I am not overly experienced with horses."

Legolas smiled lightly. "I recall you telling me you never wanted to learn to ride."

She rolled her eyes almost flirtatiously. "I still have not, but perhaps I will learn as we go."

Legolas felt eyes glaring at the back of his head as he readjusted the stirrup to fit her, and he chose to ignore it. Sidhel had already expressed his displeasure on more than one occasion, but frankly so had Legolas about her joining them on this particular trip.

His guards were not very happy to find out they would be providing her with a protection detail, and his eyes drifted to Eithrien, Padrien, and Aphadriel, the three she-elves he selected from his troop to help watch over Lastril and Farril. Eithrien was giving Lastril a sour look and he wondered if it was because the last she-elf Legolas had asked her to protect was Shyloh, or if she simply did not like the Lady in general.

However, they wouldn't dare defy Legolas' orders – or the King's for that matter – and swore to protect her at all costs. They would reach the mountain in three days, but it was sure to be a very long three days.

"We are ready at your command, my Lord," Sidhel said, drawing himself upright. His eyes were narrowed but he refused to meet the glare that came from Lastril upon his interruption.

Legolas nodded. "Thank you, Sidhel."

He stepped aside and helped Lastril mount the mare that had been chosen for her, before offering her the reins. Her hands brushed his as she took control of her horse, and she smiled, as if she were slightly embarrassed. He turned away and mounted his own horse in one swift, fluid like movement. The rest of his host followed suit and then they were off.

He tried not to pay attention to the fact Lastril kept her horse as close to his as possible as they stepped out from under the safety of the caves and into the world outside.

By now, the sun was just beginning to crest over the horizon and though the sky was a cloudy grey, the golden rays managed to peek through the stormy looking weather to the west, illuminating the trees in an earthly yellow-green glow. It didn't last long the higher the sun rose, and they were cast back into a dull grey hue.

His patrol surrounded them on all sides, with him in the lead. Lastril shot him a smile as they set out and he met it with a grimace of his own. He felt he had nothing to smile about at the present moment, but she looked excited to be out of the Realm and under the canopy of trees. She drew in a deep breath.

"How sweet the air smells so early in the morning," she said, still smiling. Her eyes roamed around the snowy forest floor surrounding them and she tugged her traveling cloak around her shoulders. "Does the forest always look so magical after a fresh snowfall?"

Legolas let his eyes wander through the trees as he contemplated her question. "I suppose it does," he said.

It was habit for him and his troops to travel in silence, so Lastril's questions and comments were off setting to him. He was used to the quiet; listening and watching for the enemy's movements. Striking up casual conversation wasn't easy for him while on the road unless it pertained to the trip itself, but he figured she probably wouldn't understand that very well.

He felt Sidhel's eyes bore into him again, and when he twisted around in his saddle, Nodron was also giving him a hard stare. They wanted to know why he was responding to her questions the way he was, but instead of answering, he straightened in his saddle and clenched his teeth together. Lastril, of course, was oblivious to it all.

He'd promised to be on his best behavior.

When they reached the edges of their borders, Sidhel asked for silence from the company as a whole, not particularly stating any one person in general but Legolas was not fooled: Sidhel was tired of Lastril's constant chatter.

She sent Sidhel a look with her nose stuck up in the air but Legolas chose to ignore it. Sidhel could handle himself.

"Spiders and orcs linger outside of our borders," Legolas explained quietly when he felt the question forming. She looked at him and her face smoothed out into understanding and she offered him one more smile before straightening in her saddle and raising her chin just a little. Legolas turned his head just the slightest but Sidhel was scowling and refused to meet his captain's glare, and instead took to scanning the trees as if he were suddenly oblivious to the Prince and his foul cousin.

A smirk played at the edges of Legolas' mouth and when he turned to Nodron, his friend rolled his eyes and shook his head at Sidhel. Perhaps Legolas had been wrong in thinking that he himself would be worse off in Lastril's presence, perhaps the one to be worried about was instead Sidhel, who looked like he was ready to kill.