Author's Note: Well, here's the next installment. It's been a hectic week—classes, labs, ordering books… Not to mention it is tax season! Joy! *Sarcastic grumble*

To Kaylee: I'll do my best to get at least one chapter up each week, I promise. Also, your review was interesting since the idea you wrote of had already been sparked in my mind…. You'll see what I mean later, next chapter, I think. It's not quite finished, but I was started before I read my reviews for chapter 4 (I always confuse myself… The third chapter of the story, but the forth because of the introductory disclaimer.). Last minute touches and a few more pages yet to go.

To the gang: You are impatient! At least you refrained from egging my room when I reminded you I wouldn't have computer access!

To my other faithful readers, reviewers and e-mailers, thank you so much! I love hearing from anyone and everyone. Ideas, constructive hints, or just kudos, all welcome and appreciated!

Arghhh! I've been trying to get this uploaded for too long! The page keeps popping up cannot find server! I hope this works, or I'll wait 'til tomorrow. Anyone else having problems? Or am I just blessed?

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"Are you ready?" I asked.

They all gave me a look, one their father had perfected centuries upon centuries ago. 'Do you really need to ask?' it clearly asked, one brow raised on the eldest daughter, cutely throwing in a piece of their mother, though she didn't realize it. It was always the best part of telling stories, seeing how the audience responded, especially when that audience was a mix of audiences I had had before. As the highest haled story-teller among the elf 'nanas', I have had many, many children at my feet through the generations. Princes, princesses, common wood-elves, and even those who became humans, before we left the havens in the first place.

Oh, how I love telling stories!

"Okay. Where had we gotten?"

"Legolas was about to be attacked by she-elves," the boy prompted, resting on his stomach on my bed with his head propped on his hands, one leg crooked up where he would occasionally reach out to tickle his own foot. Sometimes I simply do not know where he gets his quirks. His father never did that, nor did his mother or grandfather.  

"Not attacked," one of his sisters protested quietly, obviously wishing only to put him quickly in his place without talking when I could be telling them the story they had come to hear.

"Very well, are we ready?" Varying degrees of the previous look shot my way. I smiled faintly, chuckling internally. How fun it was to watch them squirm in their impatience. "The first day of the feasting arrived…"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the autumn, as was the way with all wood-elf communities, a grand feast was held to honor the changing of the seasons and to celebrate, well, because they could. Wood-elves were never very particular about things that could get them a fine feast and good wine, especially when it was thrown in the palace. Which this celebration was. Every year Thranduil held the great feast in the palace, making everyone in the palace work for several weeks ahead of time to prepare.

Even Salan and Legolas had to release their independence to assist in the preparations. He was a bit irritated by it, but she was excited about the coming festival, since she was, above all else, a wood-elf. Legolas was mostly irritated about it because he had heard whispers as he passed about the ladies that were to be arriving, though nothing had been said to him directly, except by Salan.

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he recalled seeing the elves opening and freshening several of the rooms in the guest wing, which assured him there was not the slightest bit of falsehood to Salan's tale, though he had never really believed the little thought that suggested she had made it up. Salan did lie from time to time, but it had usually been to his benefit, as far as he knew, anyway. She never lied to save herself though, a noble gesture that slowly became part of the way he operated, seeing it as it was, a mark of honor.

So Legolas sulked even as he worked, his spirits lightening only for a few minutes in the day, when Harlyn would tag along behind, helping by carrying whatever his little arms could hold. Once in a while he was able to escape to the forest to practice his archery. Usually it was in the fuss right before lunch, the only time he was able to slip away unnoticed. Two days of missed meals had helped improve his aim and his mood, but he still hated that he had to run away to get some peace, and more so that he had to give up lunch in order to do so.

So thinking he reached for an arrow, only to find it stuck in his quiver. With a frown he shrugged the quiver off his shoulders and looked inside, a grin coming to his face as he saw a small bundle resting inside his quiver. He tugged it out, and found a supply of way bread that would last him until after the feast. He took a bite and went back to archery, until he had to be back at the palace to continue helping. Setting his things in his room, he then wandered around the little used side halls, keeping his ears tuned towards the voice of the one she-elf he didn't mind running into.

When he found her, he lounged against the doorway, watching as she laughed at something that was said, her eyes sparkling with humor and excitement as she helped hold up a large piece of material that was to be looped over the windows to add an air of elegance to the room. He gave a small, nearly inaudible whistle by pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, blowing a small amount of air over it and through his teeth. It sounded like a bird had come into the halls, but she was the only one who turned and looked. She smiled at him, lifting a brow in question. He held up the leaf wrapper of the way bread he had eaten, bowing his head in thanks. She winked and went back to work before he was noticed by anyone else.

After that, the days of preparation were close to enjoyable, instead of merely tolerable, and he even managed to sneak Harlyn to the little archery spot with him without being noticed. For a while, anyway.

A small sound turned their heads to the intruder as Legolas showed Harlyn how to draw a bow, though Harlyn was still too young to draw the bow that was taller than he was. Salan's mouth quirked into a grin when she saw them, but it quickly faded. "You'd best get back with all the haste those short legs of yours can manage," she murmured, sending a teasing smile to Harlyn. "You've both been missed," she murmured solemnly, directing her words to Legolas now.

He winced and looked back at the mountain, making no effort to start home.

Salan rolled her eyes and took the bow from his hand even as Harlyn came back with the spent arrows. She took them and removed the quiver from Legolas, quickly swinging it onto her back. She picked Harlyn up and set him on Legolas's shoulders, before giving the elder prince a shove between his shoulder blades. "Go!"

He blinked, his hands closing over his brother's legs automatically. When he understood he smiled quickly, winking before setting out at a quick stride even as Salan ran back to a different entrance.

When he and Harlyn appeared, their parents were so relieved there was very little in the way of remonstration, though Thranduil looked at the sword which rested at Legolas's side in disapproval, obviously wishing that if he had to take his brother beyond the mountain, he could have been better armed. Of course, had he still had his bow and quiver, they would have known he went for the sake of archery, since it was one of his few pleasures. Since spending time with his little brother was the other, they said nothing much, sending Harlyn off to play while sending Legolas to work, like he was supposed to have been doing all along.

When he got to the last room that was needing some decorations, he found Salan already in the thick of things. Her eyes met his quickly, allowing him to smile briefly in thanks. She nodded faintly, and continued her work.

The next day he was excused from work, which he would have preferred to what he ended up doing—greeting all their visiting guests. Mostly noble elves of Mirkwood, it was obvious why they were there when the ladies lowered their gazes from him with a soft blush creeping up over their ears, sometimes even in their cheeks.

With a sigh and a forced smile, he continued greeting them as the never-ending train continued coming into the room. Suddenly the sound of crying caught his ears, and those of the others in the room. Salan came in with a hysterical Harlyn, her eyes lowered to the noble-born as she entered quietly. "Beg pardon, my lords," she murmured softly, moving forward even as she spoke.

"What happened to him?" Thranduil asked in a loud voice, nearly making Legolas wince since his ears were between Thranduil and Salan.

She looked up, and Legolas caught a hint of mischievousness before she looked quickly down. "I am not certain, my lord. I know only he wishes the company of his brother." So saying she hoisted the hysterical elf child into Legolas's arms, who closed them over his brother without thinking. She laid her hand on Harlyn's back. "Shh," she whispered softly. "You're with Legolas now," she murmured, rubbing in small, soothing circles. At the same time, she looked up and winked at Legolas, before kissing the back of Harlyn's head, who had stopped sobbing so dramatically, calming down to soft hiccupping tears as he clung to Legolas's shoulders. Salan backed discreetly away. "Pray excuse my interruption," she murmured softly, her eyes once again lowered as she observed the proper traditions as she exited.

Legolas blinked after her, having forgotten she wasn't a true lady… like the ones waiting for his attention. He sighed faintly and shifted the boy in his arms, smiling slightly at the next one, the smile becoming a true one since he had just realized two things. The first was that with Harlyn in his arms, he had an excuse not to get so close, no longer being required to touch the cheeks or kiss the hands of the ladies. The second was there was absolutely nothing wrong with Harlyn. The two scamps had teamed up to help get him out of a situation which he had not created and which he absolutely abhorred.

He would have to thank her again. It seemed like that was all he was doing anymore, was thanking her for helping him out, though he didn't ask for her to do so. Nor was it in whatever list of tasks she was to perform everyday since he was being slowly integrated into the adult world, meaning she had very little to do with him as set up by their parents anymore, her time being freed as his was taken.

That evening the festivities began, seeing Legolas with a group of other elves that were about his age from the village. They had been taught the basics of weapons together, along with Salan and one or two other she-elves from the village, and had more or less become friends. Not close, since they had spent little time truly together, and the village elves had little of a chance to truly explore the forest on a regular basis as Legolas and Salan had. Still, they were better than mere acquaintances, and he found his time more enjoyable when he was with them than when he was alone at such gatherings.

"How's Salan these days?" Jarthen asked, looking sharply around. "I haven't seen her for a while."

"Only a hundred years or so," his brother Martalon countered. "Still tormenting her, Legolas?"

Legolas smiled slightly, with a shake of his head. "Her persistence wore me down," he murmured with a faint smile, recalling the almost doggedly persistent way she had followed him around for the longest time.

They chuckled softly as Zarlen pretended to faint. "You must be kidding. I was sure I would hear you had shot her and she had stabbed you!"

Legolas added his chuckle to that of the others. "So was I, for a while." Their truce had been unofficially called after the others no longer came at regular times, having to fit the learning around their work and revelry with friends from the village. Still, Legolas no more begrudged them their freedom than they begrudged him his birth. Actually, from time to time, each pitied the other, which of course meant they would never be the truest of friends. "She has become a good friend to have," he admitted after a moment, his tone that of one who has just made a great discovery.

The elves around him exchanged glances before one reached out to touch his forehead.

He shook them off with an annoyed look. Then his eyes fell on the entering nobles, making his eyes narrow. "Great. They're here."

"Who?"

He motioned with his head. The elves around him sucked in deep breaths, their eyes widening. "Wow!"

"No kidding!"

Legolas frowned at them. "What is with you?"

"Have you gone blind? Or is it just that you have no fire in your high blood?"

He frowned harder and looked back at the ladies, seeing them suddenly through the eyes of a wood-elf. He blinked in surprised and looked away, feeling a blush rise into his ears. "I shouldn't have looked, I shouldn't have looked," he repeated it over and over like a mantra. "Now I'm in trouble." He lifted a hand to his temple while drawing a deep breath, praying it would be a calming one.

A female voice sighed behind him. "What now?" she asked in exasperation.

He smiled slightly, admitting she had helped him out of trouble enough recently. "They made me look at something in another perspective," he admitted, turning to face her, letting his hand fall to his side.

She lifted a brow. "Sounds like a good thing to me, not something to cause trouble."

Her tone and words were reasonable, and he was reminded she probably knew more about being a prince than he did. Still, he shook his head. "Not always," he insisted, looking over at the ladies with a newly kindled interest. After all, he was an adult elf…

Salan blinked at the look in his eyes. It was one she had never seen before, at least not in him. Well, she'd admitted to herself and him he wasn't a child, but she hadn't expected him to give up on it completely so soon. "I take it I should knock before entering your room from now on."

Legolas blinked and looked back at her, seeing a sadness in her eyes he understood. Tonight was the death of a time in their lives they had both enjoyed, even if neither would admit it aloud. He sighed softly and touched her cheek, before kissing her forehead. "It was bound to happen someday, my friend."

She smiled, still sadly, but it was a smile nevertheless. "I know," she agreed, reaching up to touch his cheek. It felt like they were saying goodbye. In a way, they were. "Just be careful not to get ensnared before you wish to be. I may not always know where you are or what you would wish after this."

He smiled faintly, nodding his head slightly. As the music grew louder around them they were drawn out of their world as Martalon asked Salan if she would dance. Legolas caught his sort-of friend's arm before they could move to the floor to dance. "She is yet a child, Martalon," he hissed softly in the elf's ear. "If that changes, you will be joining the she-elves in song."

Martalon's look was startled, scared and amused all at once. "Of course, Prince Legolas," he murmured, the amusement winning as his eyes sparkled when they caught Salan's, who was laughing softly, having heard what Legolas had said. As the music drew them away from the others, Martalon grinned at her. "You have a protective friend, Salan."

"Who never admitted I was even his friend until tonight," she agreed, laughing as the song became downright silly. Her eyes caught on the tall blond-haired prince who was dancing with a lady, the glint still in his eyes. "Will he be all right?"

Martalon grinned. "Tonight he'll figure out he's not hideous to she-elves. After a while, he'll lose the intense interest we accidentally spawned in him tonight."

"But will he lose it because he thinks he's done all he wishes to, or because he begins to doubt they like him, instead of just his title?"

Martalon frowned and looked over her shoulder at the elfin prince. "I hadn't thought of that," he admitted.

Salan sighed, lowering her eyes until the music took her worries for her only true friend away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They rolled their eyes when I stopped, though the younger girl seemed a little disturbed, thinking about Legolas dancing with all those she-elves with a 'glint' in his eyes. She frowned, but slowly got to her feet as the others did, all kissing me quickly before adding a 'good night, nana,' before they walked out of the room, pulling the door shut behind them.

A smile crossed my face, and I watched the last embers of the fire die before moving to my bed, wondering how I should do the next parts of Legolas's story. Should I tell the children all the ensnarement he barely escaped? All the she-elves he left crying in his wake?

Why not?

Well, considering, maybe I should gloss over that a bit. After all, he would not like knowing the little ones heard all about a time in his life he does not like to speak of.

Maybe…