"Father." His head snapped upwards towards a figure—that of a maiden, which advanced on them delicately, coming up a gentle slope at a dainty pace. He strained his eyes against his hope to see who it was, a maidservant probably. But there, in the dim light of day, he saw her features awash with the smoke-hued sunlight, perhaps a bit paler than usual, and dappled by sallow shadows at the hollows of her cheeks and beneath her eyes—but it was his daughter nonetheless. Her hair, once hip-length, was now hanging solid and choppy just below her jaw in thick, straight arcs, her dress was simple and formal, white, with long sleeves, gauze-like fabric draped around her shoulders.
"Donduriel?!" He shouted finally, ignoring the two elves he held in company and running to her, scooping her little frame into his arms and holding her tightly. She had not gone after all, she had returned after their departure. His beloved daughter, he was so glad to have her back... After almost two days without her he had almost driven himself mad, if he had had to go longer he would have died of heartbreak. Silently, he thanked the gods.
"Father…" She mumbled, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her chin resting in the crook of his neck. What he couldn't see was the pain in her eyes, the crease in her brow, his embrace was hurting her. Haldir, however, did see it, and called out to the king;
"Sir, please, your subjects await you." After a moment Aragorn nodded, releasing his kin and kissing her forehead gently.
"I am so glad to see you." He whispered, and reluctantly joined Haldir in his stride back to the palace. Donduriel, unaware of the Elf-prince's gaze upon her, put a gentle hand to her side, just below her ribs, drawing in a long shaky breath.
"Are you the daughter of the king, the Princess Donduriel?" Her eyes darted upwards, catching his.
"Yes…" She murmured uneasily, taking a step back uncertainly as he advanced.
"My name is Legolas Greenleaf…" He reached out one finely sinewed hand, his fingertips on her cheek were welcomely warm, lingering for just a moment. "I… was victorious in the tournament."
"Congratulations." The maiden smiled, her eyes dim. Her skin was the color of pale butter, beneath her eyes shadows of sickly gray had formed in brooding arcs, but she was nonetheless beautiful beneath her strained appearance. Her eyes, one gold, one green, seemed somehow familiar, everything about her did, but he could not place where he had seen them before. "Forgive me for not being more welcoming… I'm…" The maiden faltered, one fragile, ivory hand going to her eyes like a spooked bird, fluttering at her temple for a moment before dropping back to her side.
"Are you not well?" The prince asked, his voice gentle, compassionate, concerned. He could see her hands trembling now, from weakness or tension he could not tell.
"I'm afraid not…" She told him softly, her voice trailing off. She looked over her shoulder, as if she had heard someone call her name, and he noticed the way it seemed to strain the maiden. How he wanted to touch those delicately sinewed shoulders, to relieve her of any of her ache with his fingertips, to stop her suffering.
"Are you in pain, princess?" Donduriel seemed so tired to him, he had not expected the princess to be so sickly, or so captivating. His shyness intensified as his thoughts of her yielding to his aid deepened. 'Be Eloquent.' He told himself. 'Act in the manner of your royal upbringing! This is no way to court a royal!'
"Not unbearably so..." She responded, bowing her head as she touched the same place as before lightly, wincing.
"Might I accompany you back to the castle?" He asked his future bride, who, at this time, was unwitting of their bound fate. Her sallow hue seemed to take on a rosy tinge, and she bowed her head softly.
"I suppose you may, sir elf." She murmured, and he offered her his arm. This seemed to startle her at first, and then, slowly, she slipped her arm through his and rested her palm atop the back of the Prince's hand. His heart quickened slightly at her touch, and as they began to walk her found himself trying to match her gait, trying to walk closer to her.