Legolas had been chatting to Imogen for quite a while, when he noticed that the sun had just began to set. Softly cursing under his breath, he got up and said:

'Milady. I am sorry to depart it such haste, but there are many things that I must attend to at…at home. My father will be driven mad with worry if I do not return soon.'

Imogen nodded her head. 'I thank you, kind sir, for passing an afternoon with me. It as been the most delightful company.'

Legolas took her hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. 'Maybe I will take you to the festival?'

'I do not often leave the house, but we shall see.' He mind was still reeling from the small yet significant kiss. It was polite in the elven world to press a kiss to the back of the hand – a formality that was regularly partaken of. But the inside of the hand…that showed a lot more. It was a blatant show of affection, plainly saying: 'I would like to do more than just kiss your wrist…'

'Goodnight, vanya er fair one'

She waved him off into the distance, and when she thought him to be gone let out a small sigh. He would leave her, like all those before him had done, when he found out. No male was ever far-sighted enough to see past it, it consumed them all until they could take no more. Still, that was their own choice.

Carefully and gracefully she stood up, almost shuffling to where she knew her backdoor must be in the increasing darkness.

~*~*~*~*~*

Legolas woke up with a smile on his face, though he knew not why. This morning he had to go through many formalities, and actually take part in some of the festivities that were being thrown in his honour, so he really should not be this happy. Then he remembered Imogen. Her skin as pale as ivory, always trusting his every word, eyes dull, yet they gave the feeling that they knew more that they revealed. He lithely jumped out of bed, humming, and got changed. He walked down into the small dining hall and found his father eating breakfast.

'Good morning!' Legolas greeted his father with such a bounce in his voice that Thranduil was unable to stop himself smiling, which he seldom did.

'What has got you in such a good mood? And which time did you get home last night? I do not recall hearing you come in.'

'Oh, I do not remember the time.' A dreamy expression came over Legolas' face, thinking of what had gone on last night. But every now and then, he felt just slightly guilty. He knew that he should not have lied to the young woman, but she seemed to loathe royalty so much, he did not want to ruin his chances. He hoped that she would not see fit to leave him when she found out the truth, which he would tell her. Eventually. When she knew him properly. Most women just tried to go out with him simply because he was royalty. It wouldn't put Imogen off. Would it?

'Middle Earth to Legolas, come in Legolas.' Thranduil was waving a hand in front of Legolas' eyes, trying to get a response. 'It is far too early to be this deep in thought. Which Lady are you thinking of now, hmm?'

'What!? No one! Where did you get that idea?' Legolas spluttered.

'You have exactly the same expression on your face as I did when you met your mother. Come on, who is she?'

'Just…' He was unable to contain himself 'Just some beautiful elf maiden with the most flawless skin, graceful curves and captivating voice that I have ever met.'

'I see. And will she be at the festival?'

'I do not know. She told me she had many things to do, but she may come along.'

'Well, she must be really special to have someone like you drooling over her.'

'Yes' He thought 'Yes she is.'