Disclaimer: See previous chapter

A/N: Thank you alexeika2222 for reviewing! Here's the next chapter!

Chapter 2

With the sun high above the great woods of Mirkwood, Ziendriel Yalith, eldest daughter of the king's chief counselor Jerec, sat upon one of the many stone benches scattered in the gardens of the main house. She had come to the gardens to clear her head after such a grueling morning in the House of Healing where she diligently offered her time as a Healer.

The morning had started off busily enough: she had helped three servants with minor burns after a small mishap in the kitchens, one very grumpy elfling child who refused help after falling out of one of the tallest trees in the forest (and managed to badly twist her ankle in the process), and one elder who refused to believe that she was a Healer because she looked "too young to be in a place such as this!"

After finally convincing the elder of her age and capabilities, Ziendriel had been able to heal him of his ailments and send him on his way. It was then that Velia, the head Healer, had declared that Ziendriel take a short rest. The young healer hadn't complained, as she felt drained of energy at the moment, and had taken off along the path. She hadn't chosen a destination for her walk, but allowed the path to lead her. And it had led her straight into the heart of the gardens.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been here, among the beautiful flora that so lovingly complimented the forest trees. I think perhaps my last visit was…yes, right before I left for Rivendell, she thought, staring a large bush covered in sweet smelling flowers, My, that was so long ago!

She had been a mere elfling (probably no older than the adventurous climber she'd treated today) when it was decided she was to go to the House of Elrond to study healing under the tutelage of the revered elf lord. Her abilities to heal had long ago manifested themselves, causing her parents to seek the counsel of their king. Almost immediately, word had been sent to Rivendell with the request from her parents and King Thranduil that she be trained. And just as quickly, Lord Elrond had answered, warmly accepting her as his apprentice.

And there she had lived, for over a millennia, studying and learning all that Lord Elrond had to offer. In fear of disrupting her learning with trips back to Mirkwood, her parents had often visited her in Rivendell, so eager to hear of her progress. She remembered how her father had beamed proudly when Lord Elrond had mused, "She has the capabilities to become a great healer; perhaps stronger than I." Ziendriel had blushed, unsure of what to make of those words.

She had been pleased, as well as her parents, at her progress, but she smiled as she remembered one who had not shared her sense of accomplishment: Ariel. Born just a few years after her, Ariel had made a name for herself as the "fair daughter of Jerec." And because of her great beauty, Ariel had always been the center of attention, causing just as much uproar as royalty might. She had not been a spoiled child; just one who was aware of her beauty and the affect it had on people. She was showered with compliments and love from those around her (including Ziendriel) and accepted it with the most natural ease.

Ziendriel laughed to herself as she remembered one visit in which a very young Ariel had insisted on coming along. Upon arrival at Rivendell, she had proceeded to tell her older sister that she did not appreciate what she was doing; did she not care what it was doing to her, the younger sister? Ziendriel had been surprised and had asked, "What am I doing to make you so unhappy, dear sister?"

To which Ariel had cried, "You have Mama and Papa's attention!"

Her parents had quietly laughed at their younger child's outburst and Ziendriel could remember trying hard not to smile as she tried to console her little sister. Once she had reassured Ariel that their parents attention would shift back to her once they left Rivendell, the young elfling had cheered up considerably.

And so was the life of Ziendriel summed up. She allowed her sister to be upfront in the world so that she might be recognized as her beauty dictated it, while she, the eldest child stood in the background, watching from the safety of the crowd. She admired her sister for what she was able to do that she could not: live life in the focus of others. Her place was in the crowd, one of the onlookers. And she was very happy that way.

"What amuses thee so?" a voice so suddenly asked from behind her, that she nearly jumped up high into the air.

She quickly got to her feet and turned around to the source. She saw an elf lord standing there, his hands held up in front of him, and apologetic smile on his handsome face. Upon a closer look, her face registered surprise as she realized who it was standing before her. "Milord," she greeted Prince Legolas, son of King Thranduil, somewhat dubiously, and with a slight curtsey. "Forgive me. I did not recognize you for but a moment."

Legolas smiled at the maiden before him, pleased. She was not blubbering like the other maidens did when he had come upon them with the desire to converse. Tis a good sign, he thought to himself. "It is I who should beg forgiveness," he returned. "I did not mean to frighten you. I saw you sitting here deep in thought and smiling to yourself. I fear my curiosity got the better of me and I came to know what amused you so."

She grinned. "Memories," she answered. "Happy memories. I fear sitting here in the gardens has made me nostalgic." She sat down once again, facing him, and asked, "Will you join me?"

Legolas tried to hide his amused smile (for never had a maiden so boldly invited him to sit with her) as he nodded and walked over to her. As he did so, she slightly turned away from him, her ears catching the song of a bird. And it was because of this that he was able to study her.

So Lorith is wrong, he thought, sitting down beside her. She is not plain at all. He studied her for a moment, his keen elven eyes taking in the long strands of dark hair—such a contrast to her sister's silken locks of sunlight- the curve of a perfectly formed cheekbone, the full lips and shining green eyes. She is quite…beautiful in fact, his thoughts continued. I am sure even Lorith will admit it once he sees her.

He waited until her attention shifted back to him before saying, "You seem to know of me. Now what of you? What do you call yourself?" He knew very well who she was, but desired to see if she would play the "mysterious maiden" that so many others had tried.

She smiled. "I am called Ziendriel," she replied, "I am the eldest daughter of Jerec, counselor of your father." She laughed then, and added, "And a fine daughter I would be if I did not know the face of my prince!"

Legolas joined in her laughter, discovering he liked the sound. It had a definite melody to it. "I beg you to tell me more of yourself," he said, sincerely, for he wished to know why he was becoming more and more intrigued by her; especially the fact that she seemed so immune to his natural charm and looks. She had not blubbered, simpered, sighed or stammered once since opening her mouth! "I fear I have no memory of you from my childhood." He added.

"That is because I was not here for most of your childhood, milord," she answered, almost teasingly. "I have spent most of my years in Rivendell."

"I feel apologetic," Legolas confessed, "as if I should have known you were there." It was the truth. His father had always told him to take the time to know his people and here was one he hadn't known existed until a few days ago!

"Oh, do not feel that way!" she exclaimed, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Please! A prince cannot always know where his subjects are and I did not mean it to sound accusingly. That was not my intent." She offered him a smile. "I greatly enjoyed my time in Rivendell. Lord Elrond was very kind to me," she added, falling silent again as memories once again washed over her.

"May I ask what your purpose was while living in the house of Elrond?" Legolas asked.

"I was his apprentice," she answered. "He taught me the art of healing. I have studied long and hard under his care and now I am able to call myself a Healer."

"You toil in the House of Healing?" he asked, incredulously. "Under Velia?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I know what it is said about Velia," she said, giggling. "But, she is not as cold and uncaring as you think. She can be quite pleasant, too."

Legolas laughed. "I fear I will have to see it with my own eyes!" he jested, and much to his delight she laughed. He smiled at her. "Do you often come to the gardens at this time of day?" he asked. If he was going to solve this intriguing puzzle named Ziendriel, he would need to spend more time with her.

She shook her head. "I came to clear my head and refocus after a very hard morning," she answered. "I did not plan to be here, but my feet and head thought otherwise." She glanced up at the sun and quickly added, "In truth, I must return to Velia. I do not believe she wanted me to rest for the rest of the afternoon."

Legolas rose to his feet and gently helped her up. He stepped closer to her, bringing them nearly toe-to-toe. "Thank you for sharing your time with me," he told her, softly. He took her hand in his and gently kissed the back of it.

She curtseyed. "You are welcome, milord," she returned, without so much as a sigh or swoon. She steadily looked him in the eyes and added, "It has been a pleasure talking with you, but now I must go. I bid you a good day." She curtseyed once more, then took off down the path.

Legolas stood there, watching her, the smile growing on his face. "This might prove to be very interesting," he chuckled.

Velia was standing in the doorway when Ziendriel finally returned. "Where have you been, child?" she exclaimed. "I was about to go looking for you myself!"

Ziendriel glanced back along the path. "Oh, you were not, sweet lady!" she teased. "You were coming to spy on my companion and I in the gardens." She grinned then, knowing of the view the House of Healing had of the beautiful grounds.

Velia slightly blushed, an uncommon thing for an elf over three thousand years old, and known for her sharp wit and tongue. It announced her guilt. "Well, who was it then?" she demanded, ushering the younger elf in. She had watched the whole exchange and had been curious.

"I shan't tell you for you have admitted to spying!" Ziendriel teased, earning laughter from the other two Healers in the room.

"Oh, you silly child!" Velia exclaimed, exasperated. She pretended to swat her, but the younger lady skirted out of reach. "Forgive an old lady for spying and gossiping," she added, "and tell me who it was that captured your attention!"

Ziendriel smiled. "Perhaps I will make you guess?" she suggested. When Velia looked ready to scream, she laughed. "Alright, dear Velia! I will tell you!" she surrendered. "But you must promise not to tell anyone. Especially not my sister Ariel. I fear she will misunderstand and be angry with me for something that only happened once." She motioned for her and the other two Healers to come closer and whispered her secret.

And she rolled with laughter when their eyes grew wide with surprise.