Title: A Spark in the Dark

Author: Luinëturiel (aka Zoe)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Lord of the Rings. They belong to the wonderful J.R.R. Tolkien. Any other characters in this story, however, are mine.

Once more, many thanks to everybody who's posted reviews. Here comes another chapter from Thalwyn's point of view. I just felt like she needed another chapter before we turn to Legolas' point of view again, but no worries – there is some Legolas in this chapter as well! lol
@ Dominique: I wish myself that I could update this story more frequently, for I love writing it; I'll try my best, that's all I can promise. *sighs* Too many things to do, too little time...
@ Trancos: Thank you for pointing out that you were slightly uncomfortable with Thalwyn's reaction when she got to know that Legolas had been discussing her with Lord Elrond. I must admit that you have a point there; I simply hadn't thought about it, since I found it quite understandable that Legolas talk about Thalwyn with their host. Besides, Thalwyn is quite irritated at first because she cannot recall having met a prince the day before. So she lets her mind drift back, and the 'ear incident' is still fresh in her memory... However, I'm glad you shared your thoughts with me, Trancos. I'll try to keep them in mind as I go on writing. ;o)

But now on with the story. Enjoy!

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A Spark in the Dark

11 Thalwyn: Cleansed and Dressed

It takes me a while to calm down again, but I finally manage to keep the tears at bay. I am not even certain what made me cry in the first place – the fact that I still fear the worst as far as my sister is concerned, or the feeling of helplessness that is growing stronger and stronger inside me, feeding off my doubts and fear.

Yes, I feel helpless. And useless. While people that I do not even know, people that I have never met before, have set out to find some answers for me, all I can do is wait. Wait and hope that everything will turn out for the better.

Thank goodness Legolas promised to keep me company and show me around the place today. It will keep me from brooding too much...
Prince Legolas, I correct myself. But that is just another topic I would rather not think about at the moment...

With a frown, I reach across the rim of the stone tub in search of the bar of soap that I know Tathariel placed on the small table next to the tub. When I have finally found the soap, I pick it up and busy myself with the ritual of cleansing.

As soon as I am finished with my bath a good while later, the wonderful smell of herbs and flowers clinging to my skin and hair, I step out of the tub and dry myself thoroughly. I am thankful that Tathariel showed me earlier where to find everything – it would have felt odd to be pampered like a little child. With an involuntary smile on my lips, I wrap the soft piece of cloth that I just used to dry myself around my body, and carefully make my way to the door that leads to the bedchamber.

As soon as the door swings open, Tathariel's joyful voice welcomes me, "Ah, Thalwyn, you are finished." Within a second, the Elf stands beside me. "Now let us try which of the dresses that I brought fits you best." She gently lays a hand on my arm and guides me over to the table.

Ah yes, the dresses.

"I love the dress that I had a look at earlier," I suggest. "It was beautiful. It felt so soft, and the embroidery on the front..."

"Aye, I know," Tathariel replies. I can almost hear her smile. "But how about this one? This dress would be my favourite..." As she speaks, she holds a gown to my front. "Hmm..." The hint of scepticism in her voice betrays that Tathariel is not fully content with what she sees. "I fear it is a bit too long for you, Thalwyn. Well, how about the dress you liked so much..." She quickly replaces the gown with another one – the dress in question, I assume – and announces her approval. "Yes, this one will fit better. Let me help you try it on."

Only a minute later, Tathariel is occupied with closing the tiny clasps at the back of the gown, all the while enthusing about how perfectly the dress fits me, and how beautiful I look in it. Much too my surprise, it does not make me feel uncomfortable at all to let her help me get dressed. It even seemed to be the most natural thing to stand in front of her naked and let her slip the dress over my head.

It must be her playful and carefree nature...

"There you go," Tathariel finally announces, having finished the task of closing the clasps for me. She walks around me and lays her hands on my shoulders. "I know that I am repeating myself, but you look beautiful. Prince Legolas will be speechless when he sees you like this." Tathariel either does not notice the heat spreading all across my face at her last statement, or she chooses not to comment on it, for she goes on in a casual tone, "All you have to do now is fix your hair. Do you want me to help you?"

I raise my hands to gently wrap my fingers around hers. "Thank you, Tathariel, but you will not have to help me with my hair." I give her my warmest smile.

"As you wish. But let me at least bring you a brush." With those words, Tathariel lifts her hands off my shoulders again and leaves me standing at the table. Just a moment later she is back, handing me the promised brush, which I accept gratefully and not without nodding her my thanks.

"So may I leave you alone then, Thalwyn? I am sure that Prince Legolas will come to see you soon." The tone of her voice indicates that she would like to trade places with me.

When she turns to go, I cannot help but ask, "What do you think of the Prince, Tathariel? Does he look good?"

"Does he look good?" She laughs gently before answering my question. "My dear Thalwyn, I dare say that Prince Legolas is maybe the fairest Elf I have ever seen."

So I was right – he is considered beautiful even among his own kind...

The affirmation of my thought just causes the blush on my face to deepen. "And what do you think of him as a person, Tathariel?"

"What do I think of him as a person?" Again, the female Elf repeats my question, her voice laced with mild surprise at my sparked-up interest. "I am afraid I do not happen to know Prince Legolas well enough to answer that question, Thalwyn; I have never met him prior to this stay of his here at Rivendell..."

"Never mind." I wave her off, smiling wryly.

Once Tathariel has left me to myself, I sit on the edge of the bed and begin to untangle my damp, wavy hair with the help of the brush, all the while pondering how to address the Prince when he comes to see me. Never before have I met someone of noble blood, and I am not exactly well versed in higher etiquette. To be honest, it is as unfamiliar a territory to me as this place is.

'Your Highness' – would that be the proper way of addressing him?
Or shall I just call him by his name, like I have before?

I scold myself silently for not having asked Tathariel when I had the opportunity, while I keep running the brush through my hair; my hands fulfil the task mechanically. I have just more or less finished untangling the masses of sweet scented waves when there is a knock at the door, followed by the call of a familiar voice. "Thalwyn? May I come in?"

I jump to my feet, dropping the brush on the bed in the course of my movement, and smooth down the dress with a few careful strokes. "Yes, please come in."

As usual, I more feel than actually hear the Elf enter the chamber. His voice is cheerful when he bids me good morning.

"Good morning," I reply. Since I have not yet come to a conclusion whether to use his formal title or not, I have decided to avoid addressing the Prince personally if possible.

Wait a second...
Is it just me, or has the faint smell of fresh leaves and bark returned with his arrival?

I am almost beginning to question my usually reliable senses when the Elf steps closer and any doubts are swept from my mind. He definitely is the source of the wonderful scent that reminds me of a sunny summer's day in the woods.

The feel of slender fingers gently closing around my upper arms brings me back to reality. There is mirth in Prince Legolas' voice when he asks, "Do my eyes betray me, or is there a new Elven maiden at Rivendell?" After a short pause, in which I can almost feel him take in my appearance, he adds in a more serious tone, "You truly look amazing, Thalwyn. Were it not for your tanned skin and your freckles, you could almost pass for one of our kind."

I know his words to be but a courteous compliment; however, they make my heart flutter with joy. To hear a compliment like that from the lips of an Elf, even if it is a mere expression of politeness, is something I would never have dreamed of.

"Thank you," I reply somewhat shyly, concentrating on the calming fragrance of the woods to keep from blushing. With considerable success.

When Prince Legolas lets go of my arms again, I tilt my head slightly back, reach up, and make a move to part my still damp hair into three thick strands in order to braid it.

Obviously, the Elf realises what I am about to do, for he offers immediately, "Wait, let me help you."

"No!" I cry, at the same time taking a small step backwards, out of his reach, lest he ignore my words. Since I am well aware that my outburst sounded far harsher than intended, I add in a softer tone, "I can do this on my own, thank you. Besides, I cannot let you help me." The last sentence escapes my lips unintentionally.

"What is it, Thalwyn?" Prince Legolas' voice is tinted with puzzlement.

"It is nothing," I lie. "I just prefer to braid my hair myself."

At least that much is true.

But the Elf would not leave it at that. "I thought you knew that you can trust me, Thalwyn. Please tell me what is wrong." He sounds worried, which makes me wonder if maybe my facial expression is telling him more than I would. "Did the maid that brought you the dress do anything to upset you?"

That question, although uttered with an unmistakable hint of disbelief, makes me shake my head vehemently. "No!" I would not want the Prince to draw any false conclusions. "Tathariel was very kind to me, actually. She prepared a bath for me, helped me with the dress, and...well, she told me who you really are, Your Highness."

For a brief moment the room is filled with silence, but then the Prince finally speaks, his voice once more laced with mirth. "You say she told you who I really am?" He lets out a gentle laugh. "I happen to be the son of a king, yes, but that alone does not make me any better or more respectable than any other Elf. When I told you my name and my name only, it was because I wanted you to see me as what I am – someone who wants to help you. It did not occur to me that my official title was of any importance."

My mind is still busy thinking about what he just said when the Elf's hands come to rest on my shoulders and he continues, "Thalwyn, I am still the same person I was yesterday, and I do not wish you to treat me any different than you did before you learned about my lineage. Do you hear me?" He gives my shoulders a gentle squeeze to underline his plea, and I answer with a silent nod.

"All right. I am glad that we managed to sort this out." Legolas does indeed sound relieved. "Now would you like me to help you to braid your hair, Thalwyn?" His hands slide off my shoulders again.

I cannot help but smile, shaking my head. "I appreciate your kind offer, Legolas, but I think I will still do it myself." As I speak I reach up, expertly part my hair into three strands, and start weaving them together. "Prince or not, what would a male Elf know of braiding someone's hair anyway?"

"More than you seem to assume."

I arch an eyebrow at this statement of his, my fingers never interrupting their work at the back of my head.

I have yet to meet a man who knows how to do a braid.

Any of the men that I have met so far in my short life had more or less short hair, reaching down to their shoulders, if at all, and most of them did not even seem to be too familiar with the proper use of a brush or comb. At least that was the usual impression I got when they let me have a look at them.

But those were mere Men.

I recall my exploration of Legolas' face. I have never got to touch his hair; last night it was combed back from his face, and after the incident with his ears I would not ask the Elf to let me have a look at it. However, I could very well imagine Legolas' hair to be as long as mine, thoroughly combed, and held back by slides of some sort; it would suit his fair and elegant features perfectly.

All right, so maybe he does even know how to do a braid...

With an inner shrug, I twirl the ends of a few single hairs around the now finished braid lest the woven pattern untangle itself, and give Legolas a satisfied smile.

"May we go then, Thalwyn?" he asks.

I nod as an answer, and the Elf takes my hand to guide it up to his waiting arm. My fingers settle in the crook of his elbow, and I smile as he leads me out of the chamber.