Disclaimer: These famous characters do not belong to me whatsoever.

Legolas led us down farther into the palace. Each hallway was illuminated by bright torches, displaying the walls and floors that had been smoothed and polished down, yet the ceiling was the natural rock of the mountain. Long garlands decorated the walls, strung with rich leaves of all colors as well as several unusual flowers I had never seen before. The air was scented with lilac and evergreen, not dank as I had expected a cave to be. I held onto his arm tightly, wishing to be anywhere else but in the kingdom of a spiteful Elf Lord. Why he seemed to loathe me so greatly without even knowing me was beyond my reason, though I assumed that he simply despised most mortals.

We came to a series of rooms, each door framed in silver inlays that appeared to be written in their language. Pausing before one, Legolas opened the door. "This will be your room, Andariel, and Ithiel, you will be next door."

Stepping inside, I stared in wonder and bewilderment at the furnishings. I had somehow entered a serene place that looked to be meant for royalty, fashioned after the sea itself. Varying shades of blue covered the walls and floor, all lined with veins of white in trembling patterns like foam on the waves. The bed was a four-post canopy with sheer curtains to provide privacy, covered in thick pillows and blankets that shimmered in the candlelight. A large round rug flowed throughout much of the room, stretching nearly to a side door and a large ivory armoire. A small bookshelf stood near the bed, heavily laden with many books.

I stared in awe at the room, slowly marveling at the beauty in the simple place. "This is beautiful."

Smiling at last, Legolas said softly, "This is the Room of the Sea; it was one of my mother's favorites when she was alive. I wished you to be in comfort while you are in my home."

A smile flickered over my face as I faced him, a dull ache beating in my chest. "With your presence, I will be," I told him. "Though I fear I will be more comfortable here in this room than anywhere else."

Legolas took my hands in his, smoothing them with his thumbs. His face was fraught with concern and frustration, more turbulent than I could remember seeing; it was uncommon for him to be so visibly distressed. He seemed a statue amidst the tranquility of the room, a beautiful statue. Slowly he brought my hands to his lips, then began to kiss his way up my arms. "I do know of one place you may rest in comfort," he whispered, as his lips caressed my neck softly.

Raising an eyebrow as I leaned my head back, I asked, "What did you have in mind?"

His breath was warm and light against my throat, a flurry of rose petals touching my skin. Holding me closer, he moved his lips to my ear and whispered, "Perhaps you might find comfort in my chambers, away from prying eyes." His tongue flicked across my ear, sending a shudder through my body.

I felt the spark of desire igniting within my chest, causing my breasts to tingle against his chest. "Perhaps you assume too much," I retorted, brushing a hand down the length of his chest provocatively.



Ithiel had once again done wonders to me, putting forth all her efforts to make me as presentable as possible. I felt awkward with her calling herself my maidservant, for certainly I was hardly worthy to have her as such, even if she had requested it. After a lengthy bath, I had submitted to her considerate ministrations to dress me. She had chosen an elegant garment of silver with sheer sleeves that nearly touched the floor and as skirt that flowed out behind me. After brushing my hair until it shined, she had wound my hair upon my head, then donned the pearls from Galadriel once more.

Legolas met me at the door to escort me to dinner. He was dressed in deep green with a high collar and jeweled cuffs, a silver pendant hanging down his chest. He wore a thin circlet of silver along his brow, glowing in the candlelight. He broke into a smile upon seeing me, and kissed me. "You shine like the stars, Andariel."

Smiling, I glanced at Ithiel, who was radiant in a close-fitting gown of dark pink the color of a spring rose, her dark hair cascading down her shoulders. "Only by Ithiel's gentle hand," I answered.

Ithiel smiled modestly, bowing her head.

"You look exactly as you are meant to be," I told him, marveling at how wonderful he looked.

Placing my hand through his arm, Legolas asked, "Are you suitably prepared? I have spoken more with my father, and he realized how harshly he spoke, unforgivably so. He should be more kind at dinner."

Swallowing hard, I glanced down the hall as we walked. "You cannot force his demeanor or change his dislike, Legolas. If he truly feels such loathing for me, then it will be so. No one can change that."

He stiffened beneath my arm's grasp, gazing at my thoughtfully. "I will do what I can to turn his heart, but you are right, melamin. In the end, only he may alter his feelings. Regardless of how he feels towards you, I still desire you to be my wife."

"And I would still long to be so."

As we reached the Great Hall, I braced myself, preparing once again to face the seemingly unforgiving king. The call of trumpets echoed among the pillars along the sides of the room as we entered, and a cheer rose up among those present at seeing their prince returned to them. I felt the surprise among the elves upon seeing me on his arm with Ithiel behind us. However, I stood tall, unshirking from their stares, though my eyes wandered around the room. Long tables had been set around the room, leaving a wide space in the center for entertainment, I assumed. The king's table held greater and lesser chairs, each one made of light-colored wood, engraved with subtle designs suitable to a woodland people.

King Thranduil stood near the table, now dressed in long robes of browns and golds that accentuated his pale hair. His face betrayed no emotion as his eyes looked upon us, though I did not know what to make of that. He serenely waited as we approached.

"Behold, my son has returned at last!" he announced proudly.

I curtsied in respect as the others did to Legolas as he gazed around the room, regal in his own way. Then I curtsied to the king. As I stood, Thanduil gazed upon me intently, unspeaking, though I sensed he and Legolas were communicating through the mindspeak.

"Welcome, Andariel of Arnad," he said at last. "I trust you have had time to rest?"

Bowing my head, I answered simply, "Yes, my Lord."

I felt his eyes still watching me carefully, and as I met his gaze I shivered. Nodding briefly, Thranduil motioned towards the table. "Come. Let us discuss matters over dinner."

Legolas led me to a chair next to his. When we were all seated, many servants appeared to pour wine into silver goblets. I sipped it greedily, noting its surprisingly heavy texture that filled me with immediate warmth.

"Tell me, Andariel, of this place you come from."

I started to hear the King speak directly to me. "Oh." Setting down my goblet, I straightened. "Arnad is a little known village near the shores the Great Sea, or should I say was. We are a simple people who have been fortunate to have great skill in fashioning weapons, art, many things of delicate nature. We never truly had contact with the rest of the world, simply because we did not know what else existed. It had been so for generations. We were content to exist merely in rumors or legends, until we were discovered. Goblins and orcs burned down the village, and my people were forced to travel on. Many now reside in Gondor."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "Why is it you were so secluded? If your people were so gifted, there could have been much advantage to trading with other cultures."

"We simply did not think of it. Of course, it is more complicated than that." I sighed lightly, thinking of the other gifts of my race. "You see, we were also gifted with the ability to heal the mind, regardless of how damaged it is. We feared that others would exploit this gift of ours, since we feel things more deeply than others. We were content to believe that elves and dwarves were merely creatures of myth and legend, as we were to anyone else."

Suddenly the king seemed interested in what I spoke of. He faced me with interest. "Heal the mind," he repeated. "How is it you are able to do this? Our people have many gifts, varying from culture to culture. I have never heard of such abilities in mortals, even in the Dunedain."

"Pardon my question, sir, but who are the Dunedain?" I asked timidly.

The king's interest turned into a kind of amusement. Legolas spoke quickly. "The Dunedain are a people who traveled from Numenor near the beginning of the world. Their blood is strong and ancient, above those of other mortals. They have the ability to age slowly and possess a great wisdom of the Eldar. Aragorn is one of such people, though I do not know if you were aware."

"Aragorn! Yes, indeed he explained to me when he first told me of my people in Lothlorien." I nodded. "Yes, I understand. I marveled at how he had known me as a child yet appeared few years older than myself now."

Legolas smiled, sipping his own wine. "Yes, Aragorn is one great of his kind. Do you not agree, father?"

Thranduil sighed heavily. "I have met Aragorn many times through the years, even when he was here last year. He is exceptional among the race of Man. You say that you have known him long?"

"Yes, my Lord. King Aragorn had traveled near the borders of my village when I was a child, and he spoke much with my parents. He was a friend to all our people, even when we lost contact with him over the years. It is he who now gives sanctuary to some of the remnants of those of Arnad."

"Is your father a wealthy man?"

The abruptness of his questions caused a flutter of frustration to course through my chest, though I marveled he even spoke with me. "No," I answered. "Elisen is a most gifted artisan, and highly in favor with the King of Gondor, but he does not possess lands or riches to match your own, my Lord. He has never desired such things."

I felt the king's eye heavily upon me as I spoke, though I felt no shame in that my father was not greedy.

"I have met with her father, and he is a good man," Legolas assured. "He possesses many admirable qualities in either men or elves. He has done great care in raising his daughter when her mother and brother were killed."

"How is that?"

Legolas nodded to me, urging me to explain, to speak more with his father. Assenting, I spoke once more. "When my people were discovered, many of them attempted to flee for Gondor, since Elisen was friendly with Aragorn, who had extended an invitation for my family to visit him there. Our caravan came under attack one night by goblins. My people are not warriors by nature, and many were killed, including my mother Gisele and my brother Aeoned. I escaped and fled into the woods, where I was found by your son and his kinsmen."

Thranduil now appeared surprised, his gaze turning to his son, and for several moments he did not speak. "I remember sending you out in search of these mysterious people. Galdir informed me of much of this upon their return." He frowned, apparently deep in thought. "Strange how they did not mention anything much of this."

"They did not know of the details," Legolas answered. "Andariel was without her memory until she found her people once more. At that time I was with the Companions in Rohan."

As food was brought out and set upon the tables, Thranduil said, "I see. Why is it you travel with this woman, Legolas? Galdir omitted much from his speech, yet I am not slow of wit."

At last the moment of truth had arrived, and I stiffened. I held my breath as Legolas looked calmly to his father and said, "I have given her my heart, father. We have endured many trials together, and I have bound myself to her."

I thought that the king faded several shades in the face as he leaned back in his chair. A heavy silence fell over the table, seeming to spread throughout the rest of the room. All eyes fell upon us, and I tightened my jaw, anticipating a harsh response. For many minutes the King stared at his son blankly, eyes unreadable. I wondered if they were speaking silently, but I could not ascertain what would be said. He was obviously in too great of a shock.

"You have bound yourself to a mortal woman," Thranduil said at last, eyes narrowing.

"I have," Legolas answered simply.

After several more moments of silence, the King took a deep breath. "You are my son, Legolas, heir to my kingdom. Have all my efforts been in vain to teach you responsibility?"

Though his face was turned from me, I knew that the anger was rising within Legolas once more. "No, father, your efforts have not been in vain. In fact, you have taught me all too well. I cannot abandon one whom I have caused much grief and sorrow in the past year."

"You have no desire to inflict more pain upon one whom you have known so shortly yet you are swift to deal it to you father!" Thranduil shook his head. "I do not know what has occurred over this time, or whether this is another one of your foolish ideas, but I will not stand for it now, my son."

"On the contrary, father, this is the greatest idea I have yet had. I have been foolish much of my life, but now is not one of those times."

The Elf King's eyes blazed in fury. "You would have me believe that you truly love this mortal?" he demanded. "You would sacrifice all you have known and all you will receive for this woman? You are destined to rule when I relinquish the throne. You will need a queen to rule beside you."

"And I have found her!" Legolas retorted.

Leaning closer, Thranduil said, "She will perish long before you rule, and you will find another queen. You shirk your responsibilities."

Angrily leaning forward, Legolas said quietly, "I know my responsibilities, father, and Andariel is one of them. You cannot ask me to abandon her after the suffering she has endured."

Thranduil stared icily at the young elf. "I know nothing of her suffering. I only know that my son has shown great weakness in the face of evil and in his father's household. You are no longer the young prince I raised. You disgrace me."

Rage built up inside my chest, and I could no longer contain my anger. I cared not what the king thought of me now, for I would not abide any man calling Legolas weak, not even a king, for I knew better.

"Legolas is not weak! You know not what you speak of."

All eyes fell upon me, even Legolas, gazing at me in shock at using such a tone to the king, let alone speaking unbidden. I held firm, not breaking my hard stare at the King. The entire table fell silent, merely waiting. I clenched my teeth, my heart beating quickly.

"Excuse me?" he said in surprise.

"I cannot abide you calling your own son weak, for I have seen his bravery and his courage, and I know it is not so," I answered seethingly. "You may despise me for political reasons or personal reasons. I have no desire to be a queen, and I realize I will die long before he ages a decade. You hold such contempt within your heart you fail to see your son for what he is!"

"And what would that be?" the king asked sarcastically. "As if you would know, one who has barely passed into a sort of maturity. I have seen thousands of years and have known what is expected of a prince. If you will excuse my bluntness, Lady, you are not what is planned for him."

Rising to my feet, causing more of a stir in the room, I glared at the Elf. "You may say all you wish of me, Your Majesty, for I have known long you would never accept me, nor the child we produced."

A collective gasp rose through the room, and Thranduil sat back, obviously stunned. Legolas looked at me in deep shock, not speaking. A distinctive pain rose within me, but I would not let it stop my words.

"Leave us!" Thranduil bellowed.

Immediately the guests of the room slowly rose and filed from the hall, each one whispering softly to one another and glancing back once more at our display. At last the room was empty.

"What--what do you mean, a child?" Thranduil asked quietly.

Sighing deeply, I replied, "I produced an heir for Legolas, though sadly he died before he knew life. You need not worry of a bastard child seeking claim to the throne some years from now. Perhaps you might see the sorrow that still abides in your son's heart, however."

Thranduil looked from me to Legolas, his eyes somewhat glassy as he digested this information. He frowned. "Is this true, my son?" he asked.

Legolas glanced up at me, his face taut with confusion and anger. Sighing deeply, he nodded. "Yes, father, it is so. Many months ago when we departed from Rivendell, Andariel was with child. During our travels scouting southwards, we were attacked by orcs and she was thrown from her horse. After the battle, she miscarried the child, who now lies buried safely."

For a moment I believed I had spoken out of turn, yet I saw the sudden compassion in his father's eyes, albeit angry still. The king laid a hand upon his son's shoulder, staring downward. "I.I had no idea. I grieve for your loss, and for the loss of our people. Your child would have been strong and wise."

As Thranduil raised his eyes to me once again, I stared at him. "My Lord, you were told I was taken by orcs. It is true. Have you yourself ever been taken?"

Still somewhat dazed, the King shook his head.

"Then permit me to show you what rewards come to a captive of the creatures." I pulled back my sleeves, displaying the scars upon my arms, then lowered my collar enough to show several of the fading burns and wounds on my chest and neck. "Believe me, my Lord, I believe they took out more than enough rage upon me, for there are many more wounds I could show you."

Slowly standing up, Thranduil approached me, studying my scars and burns with the same glassy eyes. He hesitantly reached a hand out to me, touching my chin as he examined me closely. It was impossible for me to read his thoughts or his face.

"This is what a woman receives. If not for your son, I would have endured far more than I can tell," I thought to him, hoping my thoughts would reach him. "Your son is a hero in every way, and he has saved my life more times than I may say."

Blinking in surprise, Thranduil stepped away for a moment, gasping softly. "You have the gift of mindspeak," he whispered, staring at me again.

I nodded. "Yes, my Lord. I was told this happens sometimes when a mortal and an elf share as deep a love, that the elf may unwittingly hand over a part of himself. Forgive your son, Your Highness, for he has done no wrong."

Sudden tears welled up in the Elf's eyes as he looked from one to the other, then covered his face with his hand. I could not hear his cries, but I saw his frame shaking slightly in the shimmering candlelight. I exhaled heavily, looking upon Legolas as he rose to his feet, staring at me in wonder. It seemed he hardly knew how to react or what to think, not that I could blame him. I had never shown such candor or boldness before, especially not in front of a King, Legolas' father no less. Still, I had spoken my piece, and reduced the King to tears.

As Legolas laid a hand upon his father's shoulder, Thranduil grasped it tightly. At last the Elf King removed his hand, pulling himself together. A faint smile whispered across his lips, a shadow of understanding. Quietly taking my hand in his, he sighed heavily, as if a great weight was pressing his shoulders forward.

"I ask that you grant me time to think on this," he said. "I have learned much this night, and I require a chance to make up my own mind."

I caught Legolas' eye, and he smiled, nodding. "Of course, father."

Nodding once again, Thranduil said, "Let us speak later. We will have the feast at a later date."

I watched as the King slowly moved away, silently walking out of the Great Hall.