Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the lord of the rings Tolkien world. Only Victoria, Rialan, Isil and Ithlen.

OMG!!!! Thank you all so much for the reviews!!!!! I'm so glad you people thought that last chapter was funny!!

Currently listening: Angel theme song, by Apocalyptica. Holy crap this song is awesome! Though its only music and no words, if you have watched the show angel, its the theme music muhahaha *hums along*

arg, I'm sick today. I can hardly be on the computer without running to the bathroom to retch every 5 minutes ick!

Thanks so much megan for doing my spelling and grammer check for me for this chapter!

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"Pssst!," the coast is clear..." Victoria muttered to the two elves beside her. Ithlen and Rialan exchanged looks of doubt but nonetheless, stepped from out behind the cover of the large oak and out into the open. Their keen elven eyes strayed down the paths to be clear that a very fuming Isil was not within sight.

"I swear, he will be the death of me..." Ithlen hissed, touching her forehead with a shaking hand. Rialan softly took away the hand from her forehead, and replaced it with his lips. Gathering her into his arms, he kept her locked within his safe warm embrace, not desiring to let her out into the bitterness of the world around them.

The chambermaid and the weapon smith had been strolling about that morning, when they were caught under the raging, assaulting gaze of Isil. He now has been following them for the past half-hour. It was as if some uncompelled force within that mind of his, drove him to near madness upon seeing his sister in love. Such folly! Such absurdity!

"Isil can be really shallow..." Victoria commented under her breath, as she kept a watchful eye upon the two lovers. She had been composing herself as a watchman that afternoon. Gently crossing her arms out in front of her, she turned away with an idle, annoyed sigh when her weapon smith friend took claim of her chamber maid's lips. The fact that she agreed to make sure Isil wasn't nearby was all right to handle. But to be in a front row position as audience to their public display of affection?! It was almost enough to make her want to retch. But perhaps, Victoria would know better had she known the meaning of the love that was between the two elves before her.

"Break it up you two, for my sake please..." She grumbled with aligned eyebrows. Rialan slowly broke away from his lover, his eyes still closed. Ithlen was trapped on cloud nine. But she slowly felt herself float back down upon Victoria's suggestion that they stop. Rialan muttered a soft apology and secretly winked at Ithlen. She giggled softly. The pure healer rolled her eyes and turned to look back down the path. Her eyes suddenly bulged, without wasting time she pushed at Rialan and Ithlen to run down the opposite path. Ithlen muttered a gasp, as she could almost sense her brother close by. Clearly that was who Victoria had just seen.

"Hurry, I will create a distraction." She hissed in command to them. Rialan nodded hastily and pulled Ithlen away.

Victoria positioned herself in front of the path to block the fuming elf coming up the dirt path, his anger seeming to melt the ground as he passed. When he went by Victoria, not much as saying a word to her, she ran up to run beside him.

"Hey Isil! Uh-where are you going?" She asked, striving to run in front of him. He simply gave her a death glare and continued on forward. She frowned deeply at his rude gesture toward her.

"Well, someone certainly woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning..." She said breezily, her hair flying past her shoulders in the wind. He fixed her with yet another hard expression.

"Listen Isil, lets go take a load off and go to the bar. I'm sure I can get you a pretty good drink? Perhaps Berdruskan dark?..." She asked nervously.

"Not now Victoria!" He quipped, pushing her aside and storming away. She heaved an annoyed sigh and ran after him.

Meanwhile with Rialan and Ithlen...

This was simply barbaric. Why should he and Ithlen only be together secretly? Flaring his nostrils briefly in agitation, he looked at his silent lover speed walking beside him. Her face was all but serene calmness that usually filled her face. Her mouth seemed to be almost twitching with controlled anger, her eyes flashing angrily. Yet, she still had that adorable stamina.

Lacing her hand in his, he gave her a reassuring smile. She managed a forced weak smile. Seeing this, he stopped and pulled her behind a large tree. Its branches seemed to almost wrap around them like arms, protecting them from unfriendly, unwanted eyes.

"My love, let me face him. Why must we run from this?" Rialan asked softly, looking into her eyes. She looked around the tree for a moment before turning back to him. His eyes were drowned with curiosity. Softly putting a hand to his cheek, she looked at him squarely.

"Rialan, my brother will not accept this. We must give him time, for he is too stubborn." She said gently. He seemed to ponder this for a moment before reluctantly nodding. In the distance he could hear Victoria chattering away, most likely trying to distract Isil in any way possible. Shutting out doubtful thoughts, he bent his head down and captured her lips. He would cherish any moment they could have alone, even though it would have to be hidden from Isil. Every touch, every kiss and every whisper, he would savor. Ithlen's hands reached up, and buried themselves in his silky blond hair behind his neck. His skillful hands found there way to her waist.

"Ithlen!" Isil's beyond angry voice sliced through the air like a knife. The two elves broke away, Ithlen trying to bury herself into Rialan's chest as if hiding. She let out a heavy sigh. The angry storm had found her once more.

"Ithlen, may I have a word with you alone?" He hissed, in a dangerously low voice. Ithlen but signed again and for a moment, looked to Victoria for help. She stood behind her brother, a nervous frown upon her lips. It was clear, that the distraction she had hoped would work, had oh so failed. Wringing her fingers nervously, she prepared herself in case something became out of hand. Though it lacked to show with words more then actions, something had indeed already became out of hand.

"Sister, where have you been?" Isil asked, though his eyes narrowed, piercing directly into Rialan's silver eyes. The weapon smith only looked back. Ithlen stood her grounds before him, looking to the ground like a child receiving a scolding.

"I have been out with Rialan." She said softly. Expecting a series of screams, she only felt her brother slip his hand under her chin and force her to look at him. Though his face was composed of a rather washed up expression, his eyes flamed with inner fire.

"Has he harmed you?" He asked gently yet sternly. Isil gently tipped her head over, expecting her skin for any marks. At that question, Rialan surged forward, his teeth grit. How dare his own friend accuse him of such a thing! How dare that elf ask if he had harmed his own love! Victoria grabbed fiercely onto his arm, forcing him back. His hands clenched into fists and then unclenched again.

Ithlen saw this and shook her head at him, a silent question for him to stand down. Rialan's eyes softened and he calmed.

"No brother he would never harm me..." She replied, looking up at him. Isil glared to Rialan again but only for a moment before raised his eyebrows expectantly. Then, he held out his arm to her.

"Come, my sister, we will be late for our light luncheon." Isil remarked, his voice commanding yet soft. Reluctantly, his sister set her hand onto his forearm and let him lead her away from Rialan and Victoria. She twisted her head back and locked eyes with her lover. An apology and words of unquestionable love went with that gaze.

He caught it and smiled softly, before kissing the palm of his hand and brought it away in her direction. She grinned timidly at that, before Isil pulled her away from the gardens and to the palace. When they disappeared from sight, Rialan slumped against a nearby tree and sunk to the ground slowly.

Victoria approached the elf and gave a squeeze to his shoulder affectionately. He managed a weak smile. It was rather strange to see the weapon smith of Eryn Lasgallen in such low depressed spirits. The frown seemed to wear down on his fair features, making lines form on his foreheads, much like the elders. His friend slumped down beside him, her fingers grasping at the green shards of grass.

"Damn elf...curse him..." Rialan whispered with wrinkled eyebrows. Victoria pursed her lips smack together, and she let out a soft sigh. Love... such a complicated emotion. To her opinion, it was all just a waste of precious time. Time that could have been used to training, or maybe playing a prank upon others. With that thought in mind, Victoria cackled to herself.

"Eh, just forget about that party pooper... That was pretty rude what he said about you..."

"Yes, twas not like him at all..." Rialan said sourly. He then looked up as an elf ran up to them. Victoria glanced at the new elf questioningly. Between breaths, which showed that, he had been running about for a while.

"My lord, my lady, have you seen the prince?" The elf asked urgently. The both of them shook their heads in unison.

"What be the reason of his whereabouts?" Rialan asked with a curious gaze and tilted his golden head. The Harold briefly ran his fingers threw his own blond hair in frustration before regaining his proper composure. He had not the time to answer questions let alone be on a wild goose chase looking for the elven prince. But his attendance was urgent and important.

"He is needed in the great hall. It is imperative that he be there, by the orders of the king." The elf said solemnly and in a much formal tone before bowing respectfully. He looked at Victoria briefly.

"Good day my lord and lady" He said before turning and striding down the path, his back straight with posture. The pure healer pondered his words for a moment, stroking her chin thoughtfully. Rialan looked to be doing the same.

"Hmmm... I wonder what that was about..." The weapon smith replied. Victoria suddenly grinned that cheeky grin of hers.

"Perhaps, he is in for a royal scolding... or a royal ass whooping..." She said, her shoulders shaking with no doubt, mischievous mirth. Rialan grinned to himself but got to his graceful feet and pulled her up after him.

"Come, let us go to the great hall. I could only guess that the whole kingdom will be attending as well." He said, inclining his head forward in suggestion to the direction of the palace. She nodded eagerly and raced down the path, her elf friend following close behind her.

Thus, they headed to the great hall ever more wondering what was to happen to the prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgallen.

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Legolas timidly entered the stone corridors of his home. Giving his large bow of the Galadhrim to a maid to set in his chambers, he slowly made his way to the grand hall. A feeling of dread weigh heavily upon his broad shoulders. He knew not why he had been called to the great hall, but he could only guess that had to be of important matter. The prince took time making each step, for it felt as if some force made each step so entirely heavy and impossible. A burden was to be put forth that day.

The elf turned a bend leading through an intersection of corridors. The maze was sowed into his memory, each hall not a secret from him. Very much unnatural for an elf, Legolas kept his eyes down to the ground as he walked that day. What was to happen to him today? He felt as if some sort of revelation was waiting for him to step into the grand hall. Perhaps, today was to be made up of bad omens for times to come. But these dismal thoughts melted away when Victoria came to his mind.

The image of her face was like his only restorative causing him to bring his head up high as he walked, proud and confidant. If only he could leave behind his princely royal duties to spend but a simple afternoon within her presence. To somehow lock his heart with hers and never let it go. That was his dream, his goal. To be one with the pure healer. Soon, sometime soon would he confess the torments of his soul and sacrifice the hiding in which he held the secrets that made up his entire being.

"Arwenamin, melamin, Victoria (my lady, my love, Victoria)..." Legolas sung those words softly to himself, but they quickly faded away into the air when the grand double doors of the great hall. Those beautiful doors were somewhat intimidating to who knows what awaited him. The intricate beauty betrayed what he was to be told.

Stopping in front of the door, he laid his palm soft upon the hard wood and sucked in a shaky breath. He closed his azure eyes and focused his attention on his breathing, which had suddenly become quite difficult. That was the same sort of feeling that took over him after running mile after mile over the plains of Rohan. When looking for the two captured hobbits of the broken fellowship.

"You must be brave green leaf." He murmured to himself, his chest heaving softly with anticipation. Finally gathering his strength and courage, he pushed open the double doors. They opened with a clean creak, light blurring his vision for a second...

The eyes of the prince bulged for a moment and the color drained from his face.

All the residents of Eryn Lasgallen stood before him. They all had become quiet upon his arrival. Pairs beyond pairs of keen elven eyes bore into him as he stood in the doorway of the great hall. Legolas slowly looked around, his breaths unquestioningly loud over the split desolate silence of the room. At the end of the hall stood his father, standing at the foot of his throne, his crown of leaves and berries seemingly glowing upon his angelic head. Dark green robes were worn across his lithe body. His face was fresh with wisps of a smile upon his lips.

He could feel all their eyes. Like needles pricking all at once to his tender skin. His usually pale white skin felt oh so flustered and fretful. Slowly gulping, his throat so undeniably dry as if no liquid had been through his mouth in years. The corners of his mouth twitched for a moment, before he slowly and surely began making his way down the corridor which was made by the row of elves that stood. They nodded their heads in respect in unison.

As Legolas passed, there was one pair of majestic discerning eyes that seemed to pin point him out of all. He knew they were her eyes. Those eyes in which he yearned to forever drown in. Victoria stood next to Rialan next to the royal pavilion in which the grand throne of Mirkwood was set upon. Thranduil's chair was adorned with jewels, clearly portraying his love for treasures. Legolas could remember the way the king's eyes shined when he talked about the Arkenstone, the lost jewel of the dwarves. It now rested upon the grave of Thorin, of the lonely mountain. But the prince did not inherit the fancying for jewels and treasures as much as the king.

Each elf stared at the handsome golden prince as he passed, feeling a wave of awe come over each and every one of them. He would serve as a prosperous king in the future indeed. Victoria bit down furiously upon her bottom lip to keep the smile from curling onto her lips. She now knew of what the ceremony was all about. It was very important, just as the Harold had said. Now as Legolas passed her, she once more drank in the beautiful sight of this very stature of magnificence. His Inner Light seemed to go out and touch her as he passed, as if reaching out to join as one with her.

Legolas slowly and silently made his way up the marble steps of the pavilion, glowing light clinging to him. The elven light reminded him much of the light that was Caras Galadhon. His fathers blue eyes stared back at him, his gaze soft yet powerful. Legolas bent down on one knee and bowed his head.

"My lord, my king." He said softly. Though his king was also his father, he would always show him the proper respect. Thranduil smiled gently down at his offspring and slipped his hand under the strong chin. Two pairs of identical blue eyes met and shared a silent communication.

"Stand up my son, my prince." Thranduil said. The young elf did as he was told and awaited for what was to happen. The whole kingdom was indeed still there but they were silent as if a plague had struck about them and stole the voices within.

"Young Greenleaf, I ask you to come forth today before all of Eryn Lasgallen." He began softly.

"Peril has long come to my kingdom and the time has come for all to unite once more and put it to an eternal rest."

Legolas nodded solemnly, his eyes shining with determination. Some of the elven soldiers that stood tall and proud amongst the crowd bought fists to their hearts, the inner warrior longing for the truth and justice that they wished to bring forth once more.

"Young Greenleaf, you stand before this king as the prince of Eryn Lasgallen. Great courage and hope have you showed all of us in these past years. But we speak not of the past, but the present."

As the king continued on, each elf that stood in this great hall listening intently. Emotions floated above their heads in a haze, great fear mixing with strong clouds of valor and splendor. Each being's thoughts had weld to become one that day, each mind, each heart desiring the freedom of safety and carefree spirits. That was not to come until the ever-spreading evil could be put at last down to rest. The elves were weary folk at times. Day after the next, one truly not knowing what it might be like to suffer the gift of men. Or should the elves call it, the suffering and fate of the world of men? Though their appearances would forever be an image of gold and twilight, their hearts grew old in a sense of living. Until at last, they could leave the shores they had once called home to the lands, which would always await them.

Many of these thoughts were brought together in a sync of a communion between the beings which stood next to each other, but the voice of the king brought all back to reality once more.

"Legolas for as long as I have sat upon this throne and been king of this realm have I lead my people as commander in war. But I think to myself, should I be the one to do such this time?" The king preached, his voice floating questioningly in the air. The prince tilted his head, his eyebrows arched with confusion. Once more he suffered from that ridiculing emotion of confusion.

"My son... I wish for you to be commander in war..." The king said finally. Gasps of shock erupted from the crowd. Legolas' azure eyes widened and he looked down, his lips parted. How could his father ask such a thing from him?! He was but a prince. He was no leader! He was no king! Not yet anyway. The elf looked almost desperately to his father. He had to fight the urge to grab the elder by his broad shoulders and give him a good shake. A shake to wake him up and to realize what he had just asked his son to do. How could this be? Him? Commander in war?

"Me?... Why me?." Legolas whispered with a wrinkled forehead whilst he attempted to comprehend what exactly was happening. Perhaps, he did not hear right. Maybe his ears were deceived.

"It is your time. Your destiny to become the great leader of these people. Your people." Thranduil said with wisps of a smile. He knew this was hard to bring upon the young elf but it was to come. The he turned his son to face the eyes, which watched him with great awe. Legolas felt as if the very hand of Sauron had just reached out and striped him of his courage and transformed him into a mere insect. An insect that was to be crushed.

"You were meant for great things Legolas. People of Eryn Lasgallen, I give you your king to be, your leader in battle." The king bellowed and then stepped back and raised his hands to his head. Legolas sucked in a shuddering breath when his father slowly took off the crown, which rested upon the crest of his forehead. The berries seemed to glow with a ruddy young red, glowing everlasting. The leaves were held like jewels and glimmered in the sun like the droplets of water in the morning off of a plant. The elves watched in utter shock.

"Ada no..." Legolas murmured. Thranduil slowly shook his golden head with a small smile before he leaned forward and placed the crown upon his son's head. It nestled itself perfectly along the strands of the angelic strands of light. It glowed like Earendil

itself, the most beloved star of middle earth.

They watched... the young elf stood tall, once a prince but in their eyes was now a king. An elven Odysseus, great warrior and leader of the people. He was their leader in war now. It was up to him to lead them to a victory of trust and peace. He was transformed, not in appearance but in stature. But Legolas despite this air of wonder that now loomed over everyone, downcast his blue eyes to the ground. Who was he to accept such an honor? Instead of feeling the crown of light, nature and power upon his head, he felt the bitterness of a burden. It weighed down past his head and spilled over on his shoulders. Such responsibility... Though he was not yet king, he was now commander in war.

He was supposed to be the image of his father. A lord of elves, riding bareback upon a horse of a glowing white mane, a great royal bow notched powerfully in his skilled mastered hands. He was supposed to have an army of green and brown clad elves, weapons at the ready while they soared down the hills toward the enemy. But could he possibly accomplish such? Could he do this?

The king watched his son with a soft frown of compassion. Indeed it was difficult what he had so suddenly dropped upon his son to withstand. But it was to be done. Fate had to play itself out. Deep within the sanctity of his head, he knew what he had done was the right thing to do. The prince looked almost ashamed as he stared at his feet like a child, yet the crown twinkled upon his majestic forehead.

Meanwhile Victoria had a hand casually covering her mouth while she watched Legolas silently. All the more beautiful with the crown of his father bore so proudly upon his head. But a look of sorrow was to be found within his eyes which made him like an innocence, very much betrayed for the heart of a fierce warrior that flamed in his being. Rialan drew his eyes to the ground respectfully. Almost as if he was conducting a prayer. Victoria suddenly felt like bowing to Legolas. He stood before all of them like the king he was to be. She would not be surprised to see him dressed in long dark robes, a great staff or scepter in his hands. Then he would sit in his mighty throne, a dainty elven queen sitting at his side.

At the thought of Legolas, a giggling elven maiden in his arms, her eyes darkened into green flames. She could imagine it now. Legolas, his arms around a small slim blond, those perfect petal shaped lips of his pressed into those of the maiden. Jealously!? When did she ever start to have that emotion!? She was not supposed to know what it fell like. Especially when it had to do with her stupid crush on the prince. How foolish she was turning out to be!

"You ninny! Who cares is the prince ever found his love! It's probably going to be a little maiden, who's only words, her brain can handle is 'giggle giggle', 'as if' and 'whatever'." She said within her thoughts. But she could not shrug off the new unfamiliar stirring in her heart.

Meanwhile everyone had his or her eyes set on the figure of a prince.

Could he really do this? Could Legolas really become this leader was destined to be? Oh how Legolas wished that Aragorn was there. Surely the king of men and loyal friend could have gave him advice of what to do. He fought the urge to throw the crown aside and run from the great hall, but a warrior must never walk away from their problems. This was fate, and he would not be the one to fight it yet.

Legolas turned to his father and once again set himself down on his knee.

"I am honored to serve you my lord." He whispered finally. The king grinned. Then pulling the elf back up, he brought his son's hand up in the air as if he had just won a boxing match.

"I give you your leader! " Thranduil cried victoriously. Cheers and thunderous applause erupted like a burst of joy. Cries of elvish prayers and rejoice wavered through the air causing Legolas to finally smile. These people. These beautiful wonderful folk. They were behind him all the way. His woodland kin was there to defend each other to the end. They each fulfilled the oath they had sworn with both trust and honesty.

This time Legolas raised both his hands over his head, a large grin on his face. He was now truly a leader.

"Long live prince Legolas!" One of them cried. With that, it chorused throughout the hall in a loud chant. The prince stood above this frenzy of hope and uniting.

After a moment, the hall grew silent. One by one, each elf got down on one knee and bowed their head. He watched this with parted lips. Like a row of people at a baseball game, then swept down into low bows of respect and honor. There would always be honor to be found among the elves.

Turning his head, the elf faced the pure healer. Their eyes met and locked each other. Then slowly a small smile curled onto her lips. Never breaking eye contact, Victoria slowly bent down into a bow. He smiled back at her, wishing more then ever she could be up there at his side. His love, his maiden, his soul. For a split moment, his heart reached out and touched hers. A moment of sheer bliss passed through him. Such lightness and being so real. That he treasured beyond any crown.

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Victoria sighed as she watched crowd form around Legolas. The crown was now back upon his father's head, until the time would come, and he would take the throne. Now everyone congratulated him as commander in war. Her eyes darkened. She knew that she would stop at nothing till she was marching beside all of the elven soldiers, her sword at the ready. She knew that there was a large chance she could die. Victoria knew she was not invincible. Truly, no one was. But everyday would she train harder, harder to become that warrior she wanted to be.

But, after the ceremony, had she occupied herself with training. But, Victoria seemed to lose her interest of training for the day. Tomorrow, she would be refreshed again. Now that she had some time on her hands and no friend to keep her company, she had to find something to take up the spare time she had on hand.

Victoria gaze wandered across the lawn and on a small pack of elflings. They had neither toys nor games. The only thing that they did to amuse themselves were climbing trees and jumping over sticks.

"Poor little squirts..." She murmured. Letting her eyes wander once more, upon the splendor of the elves, she looked to her right to see an elf sprint over to a nearby tree a large basket in his hands. He set it down at his booted feet and then walked away, but not before throwing a rather large coil of rope, over the tree branch. Victoria stared at his back as he walked away. That's when a very amused smirk formed on her face. Well... she certainly knew what to do now on how to end her boredom.

Getting to her feet, she walked quickly over to the branch and snatched the rope from where it was perched. Then, running away to go find the elflings, she left the branch bear.

A moment later the elf returned. His face screwed up in a washed up expression of confusion.

"Where is my rope?" He said softly, whilst pondering.

TBC!!!

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A/N: OMG! I ran out of room to write more in the email box! I'll post the second half of the story in the next chapter. Hope u people liked this one.

OMG I am still so sick... so bear with me...

Namaarie!