About an hour later, Legolas found himself clean and well rested. All he wanted now was to get outside and breath in the fresh air, to see for himself if things had really changed. Walking back down to the study, he poked his head round the door, to see his father still sitting where he had left him.

'I wish to go for a walk, my father. Have you any idea how I can accomplish this without getting mobbed?'

Thranduil chuckled. 'Use the old patrol path that starts from the back of the kitchens. No one will see you then.'

With a word of thanks, Legolas crept through the kitchens and out the back entrance. 'Really', he thought to himself 'this is ridiculous. A Prince afraid of stepping out of his own front door.' The warmth hit him like a slap in the face, but a pleasant one. Walking along the path, he could tell that it hadn't been used at all often. It was very rough, surrounded by trees on either side, throwing a green light down on him as he walked. Many weeds were straying from one side of the bank to the other. This did not bother Legolas: being an elf meant that his gracefulness and balance stopped him tripping where most men would.

He had been walking for about two hours, reflecting on his life, when he heard a beautiful voice, singing nearby. Deciding to find out more (he thought everyone was at the festival) Legolas silently walked in the direction of the voice. A few moments later, he realised that he had crossed the path, ending up in someone's garden. The voice still continued, singing a song of joy and love, yet it sounded almost sorrowful. Legolas was about to step out of the undergrowth and let his presence be known, when the voice stopped and called out: 'Hello? Who sees fit to hide in my garden?'

The voice was almost panicked, but it had a steely undertone to it. Whoever it belonged to knew just how to handle this situation. Legolas noisily untangled himself from a very large bush, and walked to the maiden who was sitting on an ornamental bench nearby. Stopping short of her, he bowed and said:

'I am sorry if I frightened you milady. Please accept my apology, and my claim that it was your beautiful voice that enchanted me into your home.'

The beautiful elf scoffed, allowing Legolas time to take in her appearance. She was rather small, yet was sitting tall, Legolas estimated her to be about six foot tall. Her figure was fairly straight with few curves. Her eyes were those of a new-born baby's: Dark, pure and blue with hardly any definition to them.

'My voice?' she laughed. 'And why are you not at the festival, welcoming the return of the Prince?'

This comment, and the fact that she was being strangely informal led Legolas to believe that she did not recognise him. He did not mind this, it would be nice to get to know someone without all the formalities.

'Why are you not at the festival?' he retorted. This earned him another laugh, soft and musical.

'I care not for royalty.'

'Oh. Why ever not? Do you not appreciate the things Prince Legolas has done for middle earth?'

'I appreciate them, of course I do. But in my experience, the royals are so stuffy, and always make false promises. They never listen to their people. Whether this is true of Prince Legolas I do not know, but it has been said that he is quite a ladies man, if you know what I mean.'

'You could describe him as such, if you wanted to be wrong.'

'And you know him personally and can justifiably correct the rumours I have heard?'

Legolas thought for a moment. If she hated the royalty of Mirkwood so much, he did not want to admit to being of noble birth. He wanted to try and get along with her. As long as she did not notice that he was the prince, their friendship would bloom. Why he was so keen to become friends with her he did not know. The young lady spoke again. 'As we seem to be getting along well, let me introduce myself. I am Imogen. And you are?'

'Dimitri.'