She found him in the drawing room, watching out the narrow window to the courtyard below.

"How fares your father?" he asked without even turning to see that she had entered the room. She assumed he had heard her probably as far away as the kitchens on the floor beneath.

"He is resting now. I seem to be forever thanking you for all your kindness towards him." She joined him at the window. "I doubt I could have made the journey home nearly as well without your aid."

"No need for thanks, Elora," he smiled. "I wanted to help; help him and help you."

Elora returned the smile. "And you proved a much more enjoyable companion then the King's men."

She marveled at how comfortable they had become with each other in such a short time. When they were alone, such as now, they were less formal, calling each other by their names. Whispering at the doorway pulled her attention from her friend. She saw two of the upstairs maids peering around the corner, trying to catch a glimpse of the elf.

"You will have to excuse them," she grumbled, shooing the girls away. "We are not used to having such a regal guest in our home."

"A regal guest, is it?" he arched a dark brow. "That was not how you referred to me last night." Elora grasped his meaning and laughed.

"Well I'm certainly not going to tell them how your fondness for wine nearly got us drowned."

Chapter 5

The second day was considerably more arduous then the first. Elora's father awoke, after a night under the watchful gaze of Legolas, in pain and in a foul mood. Elora was able to alleviate his discomfort with a draught she made from her herbs and roots. But their pace was lessened greatly.

They stopped and made camp near a river. Elora looked longingly at it. Two days, two hot, long, dusty days with an ill-tempered father had frayed her nerves. She needed soothing.

"If you don't mind, I think I'll go and freshen up a bit while the stew is cooking," Elora said, having settled her father at last. "I'm afraid I smell too much like my horse."

"Of course not daughter," her father shooed her away. "We can manage without you for a few minutes."

"I won't be long," she promised, grabbing a small bag and putting it under her arm. She passed Legolas just as he returned with an armful of firewood. "If it's not too far beneath you, would you stir the pot, make sure it doesn't burn?" she asked with a hint of mischief.

"I will be more then willing to do it, if it means you are going to stop smelling like your horse," he retorted.

"I may not have your acute elven senses, but," and she leaned in closer to her and sniffed loudly, "but I'm not the only one who's perfume is strangely horse-like."

"And here I thought it was pleasing to you.like attracting like."

"I'd take care if I were you, Prince. It is not wise to compare a woman to a horse."

Elora made quick work of bathing herself in the heavenly water of the river. She rubbed perfumed oil into her skin and hair before slipping into a fresh dress. Feeling like an entirely new woman, she returned to the camp. She found Legolas crouching over the fire, dutifully stirring the pot. She smiled at him as he looked up at her approach. His eyes surveyed her appearance and his face registered his pleasure at her transformation. A familiar heat began to bubble in her stomach and her chest heaved slightly.

"Is there any more of that bread left, Elora?" her father asked, shattering the silent exchange between the Elf and the woman. "It would go marvelously well with this fine stew I should think."

"Yes father, I have some left," Elora replied, hoping the blush on her face was unnoticeable. "Let me put my things away and I'll bring you your dinner."

"If you'll excuse me," Legolas said as he stood, "but I think I shall go and make use of the cool water of the river as well. Someone informed me I have much need of it." He winked at Elora.

"Do as you please, Prince," her father remarked as he puffed on his pipe. "We don't stand on ceremony here."

"I shall wait and serve the stew when you return," Elora quietly told him. He nodded his thanks before leaving.

Elora made the final preparations for the evening meal. There was the stew, made with the vegetables and venison from the previous night, cheese from the market in Minas Tirith, fruit picked from an orchard that afternoon, and the bread her father so loved. There was one final item, one she secreted away from the servants as they were hastily packing for home. She went to her saddle bag and brought the treasure from its hiding place. When she turned back to the fire, there stood Legolas. He had taken off the outer traveling vest he normally wore and was clad in a silver white tunic with elaborate embroidery on the arms and shoulders. His hair was damp still and hung loosely at his shoulders. Elora forgot herself entirely and stared openly.

"I thought this was more appropriate, seeing how we were dressing for dinner," Legolas smiled, his arms held out as if to show her his meaning.

"It's.it's," she stammered. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father watching them curiously. "It's more then appropriate. And to celebrate our new-found friendship, Elven wine!" she announced, holding up the wine skin she had in her hands.

"Well done, daughter!" her father cheered. "See, did I not say what a wonder she is?"

"You did, my lord, but I suspected so all along," Legolas said, his eyes never leaving Elora's as she walked passed him to join her father.

Elven wine, it has to be said, it more potent then the wine men make. It wasn't long before Elorihm was snoring blissfully in his bedroll. Elora and Legolas moved to the far side of the fire so as not to disturb him. They situated themselves on a fallen tree trunk and talked and drank.

"I think we elves of Mirkwood have acquired an unfair reputation for our love of wine," Legolas said, as he filled his cup once more.

"How so?" Elora asked.

"Well there was that whole incident with Bilbo and the dwarves." he waved his hand dismissively.

"Ah yes, I heard of that," she nodded. "A thing like that, that's hard to live down."

"Exactly!" he pointed emphatically. The movement caused the log to roll slightly. They both sat very still, looking about nervously before breaking out into laughter.

"I have to say, it has been a while since someone has made the earth move for me," Elora grinned slyly.

Legolas laughed again, but then grew very serious. "I wonder though, why you did not marry again after the death of your husband. Are you not lonely for a man?"

"I assure you Prince, I am not without male companionship."

"So then you have found love again?"

"Who said anything about love?" She asked pointedly.

Legolas's brow furrowed as he considered what her words meant. As realization dawned on him he paused a moment, unsure of what next to say. Elora laughed.

"Oh it's not like I have score of lovers at my beck and call. But for a discreet lady, the occasional tryst may be afforded and I have taken advantage from time to time."

"I see," he smiled shyly. Elora thought his cheeks had pinked just a little, but that could have been a trick of the firelight.

She took a sip from her cup. "My duty to my father has prevented me from securing a house of my own," she said quietly with a tinge of sadness. Legolas looked at her displaying a sympathetic smile. She returned the gesture. "So in the meantime, I take what little adventures I can from life, and it is enough."

"Somehow I think it can never be enough for you, the occasional lover, clandestine meetings in the night." His words were warmer then the flames that danced in front of them. Gazing into his eyes she saw moonlight and starlight and all the ages of the world.

"It has been, until now," she replied, the wine making her bolder then she'd ever been before. "You will be my greatest adventure."

She felt herself uncontrollably drawn to him. Her body leaned into his, her tongue wet her anticipating lips. His breath washed over her skin as he reached a hand to tangle in her hair. She could feel the soft contours of his mouth whispering against her own when.

The log shifted beneath them, throwing them off balance and tumbling backwards, down the hill towards the river behind them. All the wine she had consumed had dulled her reactions and Elora was helpless against gravity. She grasped at anything she could to stop her descent. Nothing would hold her. She had all but given up, resigned herself to her fate when a strong hand grabbed hold of her arm and saved her from certain drenching.

When her head stopped spinning and she could focus, Legolas was standing before her, his tunic covered in dust and twigs were nestled in his hair.

"Well so much for the grace and agility of elves," she laughed, untangling a leaf from behind his ear.

"Perhaps we should never speak of this again. After all I do have a reputation to maintain," he said wryly.

She heaved a sigh, letting her fingers trace the outline of his pointed ear. "I cannot help thinking we may have missed a wonderful opportunity."

He took her hand in his and placed a kiss on the palm. "Who can say when opportunities arise again, my lady?"