Chapter 9 ~ In Danger
Fuineth was disappointed Legolas could not make that dance. She had been looking forward to it.
Her brother assured her, "He's having to calm the dwarves. A little misunderstanding between them and the Galadhrim. He'll be available for the next dance."
She nodded as he had led Orophin away to the crowd of ladies that seemed to permanently fixed to his brothers and Elrond's sons.
As Fuineth turned to leave the dancing area a man stepped forward dressed in Captain's livery. He bowed and smiled graciously, "Lady Fuineth I believe? Would you do me the honour of allowing me this dance?"
She had smiled politely and, of course, agreed since as a lady-in-waiting she could in no way refuse one of the Captains of the Guard of the Citadel. However, as they danced she began to feel a little uncomfortable. He danced well enough, but there was something about him that unnerved her slightly.
He talked a little as they danced, and when he mentioned her brother he did so in a tone of voice that made it clear he had a low opinion of him. Trying to ignore this – it was only one dance after all – Fuineth made no comment, and the man was now saying, "I wouldn't expect anything less from a Northerner of course. All peasants and ignorants up there."
She frowned, "Your King whom you serve is from North, as is his Queen."
She saw his eyes flash, "Don't remind me!" he spat, and she suddenly realised that his grip on her wrist had tightened quite considerably and it hurt her.
"Please, you are hurting me," she pleaded but he would not release his grip or loosen it. Instead he seemed to be moving closer to her every time the movements of the dance meant they had to face each other and she could feel his breath on her face. She was powerless to do anything, the grip on her wrist was such, except hope it would be over soon.
As the music died away, however, he pulled her to him, still keeping a tight hold on her right wrist, so she was standing on his left side and his left hand was placed in her back, pushing her away from the dancing area. "You will do me the honour of taking some fresh air with me, my lady?" And though it was a question it was clear he was not going to wait for an answer.
She was twisting her hand now, trying desperately to get it free of him, and tried to look into the crowd to see if she could see her brother, Orodor, or even Lord Legolas. He would be coming to the floor for this next dance, wouldn't he? Túveren had said he would. Where was he? She could feel herself panicking now. There was no sign of Lord Legolas or anyone else she knew well, and before she could do anything he had her through the crowd and into the shadows by the wall.
"Let go of me, sir! You are no gentleman to treat a lady so. Please!" But she could have spoken to a stone for all the response she got.
Once he was away from the general crowd, he pulled her roughly in front of him. "Now, 'Lady' Fuineth, let's see if you have the same reputation your brother made a name for himself with, hmmm?"
He moved his head towards her clearly with the intent of kissing her. As he did so she managed to wrest her hand free of him at last and slapped him. Hard. But he still had his arms on either side of her against the wall he had pushed her up against.
"Let me go or I will scream," she said quietly, surprising herself by how she felt more anger than fear.
"And who will hear you above this racket?" he sneered, his face coming close to hers, "Can you not hear the music, the screams and shouts of the revellers and dancers? What will one more shout be to them?"
Then, without warning, he felt his head pulled back violently by the hair. In one fluid movement he was spun round and away from Fuineth, his sword belt cut so that it fell to the floor and he landed, back against the wall, with a sword at his throat.
A tall, blond figure dressed in silver, stepped forward from the dark saying, in little more than a growl, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't slit your throat where you stand?"
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Túveren and Orodor had had difficulty keeping up with Legolas. However their movements did not go unnoticed. Most were dancing or busy drinking, but Haldir, in discussion with Aragorn at the time, saw Legolas push through the crowd. He exchanged a glance with the King and as one they stood. Both had seen the expression on Legolas's face and knew something was wrong. They followed as best they could.
Túveren and Orodor reached the shadows beyond the crowd and, looking this way and that into the gloom, they saw them: Fuineth, rubbing her wrist in shock; Torgil with his back against the wall; and Legolas, blade drawn and pointing towards Torgil's throat, glancing quickly at Fuineth and asking her gently if she was alright. She nodded just as her brother and Orodor reached them.
With roar of rage Túveren lunged at Torgil, knocking Legolas's blade from his way and clamping his hands round Torgil's neck. "I'll kill you, you whoreson! I will tear you apart with my bare hands!"
"TÚVEREN!" Not even the King's voice could stop Túveren in his fury. "Legolas, get him off him. What is going on here?"
Legolas and Orodor stepped forward to hold Túveren back. Only when he was forcibly dragged off and could see the face of the King black as thunder did he stop fighting their hold on him, and he stood there breathing hard, his face twisted in his rage.
Legolas immediately crossed over to Fuineth. He touched her lightly on the shoulder, looking urgently into her eyes, "Are you alright, my lady? Forgive me if I alarmed you."
She shook her head, "No you did not and I am most grateful for your intervention.." and she broke down then and there, bringing her hands up to her head and sobbing.
Túveren ran over to her, his fury forgotten at his sister's distress. Legolas stepped back to allow Túveren to take her in his arms, and she buried herself into his chest trying to get control of herself.
Orodor was explaining to the King what they had witnessed, while Haldir held Torgil, still coughing and gasping from Túveren's hold on him. Legolas now came over and, taking the King to one side, explained in more detail what he had seen during the dance as well as the scene he had found in the darkness.
The King's face was a terrible sight as he turned back to the rest. "Orodor, get two of your men. Now!" he ordered.
He stood for a few minutes gazing at Torgil levelly and then walked towards him. Torgil whimpered slightly, "My liege, I. ." but his words died in his throat with a rasp as the King grabbed him round the neck and pulled him off the floor.
"You are most fortunate," the King hissed, "But for my concern that it may disturb my guests, I would cut you limb from limb right here." Then he threw him to the floor as Orodor returned with two soldiers. "Take him," was all that Aragorn said.
Túveren still had his arms about his sister's shoulders, though she had stopped crying some time before, and the King came over to her and gently asked if she was recovered. She nodded and thanked him for his kindness.
"Do you wish to go to your chambers, Lady Fuineth? Please do not stay unless you wish to," he said.
She assured him that she would perhaps take a little air, that was all, but she would stay.
He nodded, "As you wish. You are sure you are recovered? He didn't hurt you in any way?"
She shook her head. "No, I thank you, my liege. Lord Legolas arrived before . . ."
Her voice trailed away, but the King nodded. "Good. I am glad to hear it. We will leave you to compose yourself, my lady. I thank the Valar that you are safe and unharmed."
She smiled, and thanked him once more as he turned and left taking Haldir with him.
Legolas picked up his sword from where it had fallen and was sheathing it as Fuineth stepped away from her brother wiping away the last of the tears still wet upon her cheek. "I assure you, Túveren, I am quite alright. I am more angry than distressed or afraid." Her tone was gentle and she sounded determined.
Túveren smiled, "You had us scared, Fuineth." Legolas looked up to murmur his agreement.
Fuineth turned to him now and, smiling, walked up to him. "It would seem I am in your debt, my lord. I thank you. Truly."
He smiled and kissed her hand, "It was nothing my lady, I assure you. I am just glad to see you safe."
They looked at each other for a moment: the elf holding her hand lightly, a smile on his lips and she, also smiling, looking straight into his eyes and for a moment her fear and panic completely forgotten.
Túveren coughed.
They started and turned, Legolas dropping her hand.
Túveren grinned. "Well, you were talking about taking some air, Fuineth?"
She nodded her head, "Yes. It is very hot in here anyway, and I think I need to compose myself before I can face the company."
"Well shall we go?" Túveren asked, but just then a tall, slim, blonde woman appeared.
"Ah, there you are! Orodor said you would be here. Where have you been? I have been looking everywhere for you. You have missed three dances with me as it is, Túveren, and I am not putting up with it any longer. Come on, it's no fun without you!" and she had thrown her arms about his neck and kissed him on the cheek as she spoke and now had hold of his hand and was trying to drag him away.
Fuineth was laughing. Túveren was about to try and stop Elsbeth when Fuineth said to him, "Please, Túveren, you go. I am perfectly alright, I assure you. Besides I am sure Lord Legolas will take me for some air, won't you, my lord?"
She turned to him, eyebrows raised questioningly, and he smiled, "But of course, my lady. Yes, you go, Túveren. I will look after her I promise you. Don't make your betrothed sit out any more of the dances."
Túveren nodded, though he did not seem wholly convinced by his sister's insistence that she was alright, and let his betrothed drag him off into the throng of guests.
Legolas and Fuineth laughed as they watched him disappear. Legolas turned in the darkness and looked at Fuineth, and as he did so she looked up and caught his glance and smiled. "My lord? Shall we go?" she asked gently.
He nodded and, offering her his arm, they made their way back down the side of the hall.
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Half way down one side of the banqueting hall was a doorway that opened into the antechamber where they had all started the evening. That in turn had a large door to the corridor and another at the other end that opened onto a balcony.
As the cool air hit them, Fuineth gasped a little in delight and then breathed deeply. "Oh, how wonderful. It is so nice to be out of the heat for a little while, is it not?"
"You forget, my lady, that we elves do not feel such extremes of temperature as you do. It is certainly pleasant to be here in the night air with the stars for company."
"How foolish of me to forget such a thing. Forgive me."
He smiled, "Really, my lady. There is nothing to forgive."
She moved forward to the balustrade now, letting go of his arm, and he watched her as she laid her hands upon the stone and stared out across the city which was swathed in darkness below. The moonlight shone on her hair and caught the silver threads in her dress and the elven circlet round her head. It seemed to him in that moment she was amongst the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He turned away not wanting to see the sight or acknowledge how he was beginning to feel about this woman, this mortal.
She had looked to him and saw he had turned away from her. "My lord?" she asked gently, "Is anything the matter? Perhaps you wish to return to the dance?"
"No, no, my lady. No, not at all," and he smiled, "It cheers my heart to be here with you my lady, and to know that you are safe." His face became clouded for a moment, and she moved over to stand in front of him. "If anything had happened to you..."
His face was white now, the lips tight and she could see the muscle in his cheek clenching and unclenching.
Her hand reached out, the fingertips just resting near the centre of his chest, "But it didn't, my lord. You saw to that." She smiled warmly, her voice quiet. "I meant what I said in the Hall, my lord. I am forever in your debt."
"No indeed, my lady," he said softly as he covered her hand with his own, laid his other hand gently against her arm and looked into her eyes. "Rather I have repaid some of the debt I owed you from when first we met."
She flushed, and looked down, but did not remove her hand, "Please, my lord . . "
He cut her off, "It is true, my lady. I have told you before you did me a great kindness and I am glad to have been able to repay you in some small measure, though in truth it was nothing. I am only glad that you were unharmed."
She was looking up at him again now and he murmured, "I saw the look in your eyes as you looked round for me, my lady. I was there. I was coming."
She gasped to hear he had so clearly read her thoughts in that moment she had been dragged into the shadows. She was at a loss and had no words to respond to him with. She felt her eyes fill with tears once more and she did not know why. She gazed into those grey-green eyes, and wondered if he could hear her heart for it seemed to her the sound of it filled her ears till she could hear nothing else.
"You look a little flushed, my lady, perhaps we should sit down."
He released her hand and she let it fall, nodding silently, allowing him with one hand resting lightly between her shoulders to lead her to a stone seat carved out of the wall to one side of the door of the antechamber. They sat, in silence, and stared out into the night.
It was she who spoke first. "I love the stars," she said simply. "It is one of the few memories I have of my father: him leading me outside at night to stare upwards while he would tell me their names and teach me the constellations." She turned to Legolas now, "The elves are great lovers of the stars, are they not? When your people first awoke in the East it was only by the light of the stars that you walked, and they have been special in your hearts ever since then, is that not so?"
He smiled, "Yes indeed, my lady. I too love nights such as these, when it is clear and bright with starlight. I feel truly myself and at peace in such moments."
She was watching him now as he spoke, nearly as much to himself as her, his eyes bright in the moonlight, the light of the silvered threads in his tunic gleaming and shining. He was beautiful.
And together they talked of the stars. She would point out the constellations that she knew and he would show her ones that she did not or else relate the names of the stars themselves, till at last she shivered slightly, not realising how long they had been there.
He looked concerned. "Forgive me, my lady. We have stayed here over long and now you feel the chill of the night air. Let us return inside where you may be warm again." She thanked him and nodded though she was, in truth, sorry to leave.
As once more she took his arm and they crossed the antechamber to return to the dance, she stopped and turned towards him slightly. "My lord Legolas?"
"My lady?"
"I.." but she did not finish. She was not even sure what it was she wanted to say. She looked up at him and smiled apologetically.
Returning her smile, he took her free hand gently in his own, kissed it tenderly and laid it on top of her other hand that was hooked under his forearm; arm in arm they went back into the dance.
Fuineth was disappointed Legolas could not make that dance. She had been looking forward to it.
Her brother assured her, "He's having to calm the dwarves. A little misunderstanding between them and the Galadhrim. He'll be available for the next dance."
She nodded as he had led Orophin away to the crowd of ladies that seemed to permanently fixed to his brothers and Elrond's sons.
As Fuineth turned to leave the dancing area a man stepped forward dressed in Captain's livery. He bowed and smiled graciously, "Lady Fuineth I believe? Would you do me the honour of allowing me this dance?"
She had smiled politely and, of course, agreed since as a lady-in-waiting she could in no way refuse one of the Captains of the Guard of the Citadel. However, as they danced she began to feel a little uncomfortable. He danced well enough, but there was something about him that unnerved her slightly.
He talked a little as they danced, and when he mentioned her brother he did so in a tone of voice that made it clear he had a low opinion of him. Trying to ignore this – it was only one dance after all – Fuineth made no comment, and the man was now saying, "I wouldn't expect anything less from a Northerner of course. All peasants and ignorants up there."
She frowned, "Your King whom you serve is from North, as is his Queen."
She saw his eyes flash, "Don't remind me!" he spat, and she suddenly realised that his grip on her wrist had tightened quite considerably and it hurt her.
"Please, you are hurting me," she pleaded but he would not release his grip or loosen it. Instead he seemed to be moving closer to her every time the movements of the dance meant they had to face each other and she could feel his breath on her face. She was powerless to do anything, the grip on her wrist was such, except hope it would be over soon.
As the music died away, however, he pulled her to him, still keeping a tight hold on her right wrist, so she was standing on his left side and his left hand was placed in her back, pushing her away from the dancing area. "You will do me the honour of taking some fresh air with me, my lady?" And though it was a question it was clear he was not going to wait for an answer.
She was twisting her hand now, trying desperately to get it free of him, and tried to look into the crowd to see if she could see her brother, Orodor, or even Lord Legolas. He would be coming to the floor for this next dance, wouldn't he? Túveren had said he would. Where was he? She could feel herself panicking now. There was no sign of Lord Legolas or anyone else she knew well, and before she could do anything he had her through the crowd and into the shadows by the wall.
"Let go of me, sir! You are no gentleman to treat a lady so. Please!" But she could have spoken to a stone for all the response she got.
Once he was away from the general crowd, he pulled her roughly in front of him. "Now, 'Lady' Fuineth, let's see if you have the same reputation your brother made a name for himself with, hmmm?"
He moved his head towards her clearly with the intent of kissing her. As he did so she managed to wrest her hand free of him at last and slapped him. Hard. But he still had his arms on either side of her against the wall he had pushed her up against.
"Let me go or I will scream," she said quietly, surprising herself by how she felt more anger than fear.
"And who will hear you above this racket?" he sneered, his face coming close to hers, "Can you not hear the music, the screams and shouts of the revellers and dancers? What will one more shout be to them?"
Then, without warning, he felt his head pulled back violently by the hair. In one fluid movement he was spun round and away from Fuineth, his sword belt cut so that it fell to the floor and he landed, back against the wall, with a sword at his throat.
A tall, blond figure dressed in silver, stepped forward from the dark saying, in little more than a growl, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't slit your throat where you stand?"
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Túveren and Orodor had had difficulty keeping up with Legolas. However their movements did not go unnoticed. Most were dancing or busy drinking, but Haldir, in discussion with Aragorn at the time, saw Legolas push through the crowd. He exchanged a glance with the King and as one they stood. Both had seen the expression on Legolas's face and knew something was wrong. They followed as best they could.
Túveren and Orodor reached the shadows beyond the crowd and, looking this way and that into the gloom, they saw them: Fuineth, rubbing her wrist in shock; Torgil with his back against the wall; and Legolas, blade drawn and pointing towards Torgil's throat, glancing quickly at Fuineth and asking her gently if she was alright. She nodded just as her brother and Orodor reached them.
With roar of rage Túveren lunged at Torgil, knocking Legolas's blade from his way and clamping his hands round Torgil's neck. "I'll kill you, you whoreson! I will tear you apart with my bare hands!"
"TÚVEREN!" Not even the King's voice could stop Túveren in his fury. "Legolas, get him off him. What is going on here?"
Legolas and Orodor stepped forward to hold Túveren back. Only when he was forcibly dragged off and could see the face of the King black as thunder did he stop fighting their hold on him, and he stood there breathing hard, his face twisted in his rage.
Legolas immediately crossed over to Fuineth. He touched her lightly on the shoulder, looking urgently into her eyes, "Are you alright, my lady? Forgive me if I alarmed you."
She shook her head, "No you did not and I am most grateful for your intervention.." and she broke down then and there, bringing her hands up to her head and sobbing.
Túveren ran over to her, his fury forgotten at his sister's distress. Legolas stepped back to allow Túveren to take her in his arms, and she buried herself into his chest trying to get control of herself.
Orodor was explaining to the King what they had witnessed, while Haldir held Torgil, still coughing and gasping from Túveren's hold on him. Legolas now came over and, taking the King to one side, explained in more detail what he had seen during the dance as well as the scene he had found in the darkness.
The King's face was a terrible sight as he turned back to the rest. "Orodor, get two of your men. Now!" he ordered.
He stood for a few minutes gazing at Torgil levelly and then walked towards him. Torgil whimpered slightly, "My liege, I. ." but his words died in his throat with a rasp as the King grabbed him round the neck and pulled him off the floor.
"You are most fortunate," the King hissed, "But for my concern that it may disturb my guests, I would cut you limb from limb right here." Then he threw him to the floor as Orodor returned with two soldiers. "Take him," was all that Aragorn said.
Túveren still had his arms about his sister's shoulders, though she had stopped crying some time before, and the King came over to her and gently asked if she was recovered. She nodded and thanked him for his kindness.
"Do you wish to go to your chambers, Lady Fuineth? Please do not stay unless you wish to," he said.
She assured him that she would perhaps take a little air, that was all, but she would stay.
He nodded, "As you wish. You are sure you are recovered? He didn't hurt you in any way?"
She shook her head. "No, I thank you, my liege. Lord Legolas arrived before . . ."
Her voice trailed away, but the King nodded. "Good. I am glad to hear it. We will leave you to compose yourself, my lady. I thank the Valar that you are safe and unharmed."
She smiled, and thanked him once more as he turned and left taking Haldir with him.
Legolas picked up his sword from where it had fallen and was sheathing it as Fuineth stepped away from her brother wiping away the last of the tears still wet upon her cheek. "I assure you, Túveren, I am quite alright. I am more angry than distressed or afraid." Her tone was gentle and she sounded determined.
Túveren smiled, "You had us scared, Fuineth." Legolas looked up to murmur his agreement.
Fuineth turned to him now and, smiling, walked up to him. "It would seem I am in your debt, my lord. I thank you. Truly."
He smiled and kissed her hand, "It was nothing my lady, I assure you. I am just glad to see you safe."
They looked at each other for a moment: the elf holding her hand lightly, a smile on his lips and she, also smiling, looking straight into his eyes and for a moment her fear and panic completely forgotten.
Túveren coughed.
They started and turned, Legolas dropping her hand.
Túveren grinned. "Well, you were talking about taking some air, Fuineth?"
She nodded her head, "Yes. It is very hot in here anyway, and I think I need to compose myself before I can face the company."
"Well shall we go?" Túveren asked, but just then a tall, slim, blonde woman appeared.
"Ah, there you are! Orodor said you would be here. Where have you been? I have been looking everywhere for you. You have missed three dances with me as it is, Túveren, and I am not putting up with it any longer. Come on, it's no fun without you!" and she had thrown her arms about his neck and kissed him on the cheek as she spoke and now had hold of his hand and was trying to drag him away.
Fuineth was laughing. Túveren was about to try and stop Elsbeth when Fuineth said to him, "Please, Túveren, you go. I am perfectly alright, I assure you. Besides I am sure Lord Legolas will take me for some air, won't you, my lord?"
She turned to him, eyebrows raised questioningly, and he smiled, "But of course, my lady. Yes, you go, Túveren. I will look after her I promise you. Don't make your betrothed sit out any more of the dances."
Túveren nodded, though he did not seem wholly convinced by his sister's insistence that she was alright, and let his betrothed drag him off into the throng of guests.
Legolas and Fuineth laughed as they watched him disappear. Legolas turned in the darkness and looked at Fuineth, and as he did so she looked up and caught his glance and smiled. "My lord? Shall we go?" she asked gently.
He nodded and, offering her his arm, they made their way back down the side of the hall.
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Half way down one side of the banqueting hall was a doorway that opened into the antechamber where they had all started the evening. That in turn had a large door to the corridor and another at the other end that opened onto a balcony.
As the cool air hit them, Fuineth gasped a little in delight and then breathed deeply. "Oh, how wonderful. It is so nice to be out of the heat for a little while, is it not?"
"You forget, my lady, that we elves do not feel such extremes of temperature as you do. It is certainly pleasant to be here in the night air with the stars for company."
"How foolish of me to forget such a thing. Forgive me."
He smiled, "Really, my lady. There is nothing to forgive."
She moved forward to the balustrade now, letting go of his arm, and he watched her as she laid her hands upon the stone and stared out across the city which was swathed in darkness below. The moonlight shone on her hair and caught the silver threads in her dress and the elven circlet round her head. It seemed to him in that moment she was amongst the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He turned away not wanting to see the sight or acknowledge how he was beginning to feel about this woman, this mortal.
She had looked to him and saw he had turned away from her. "My lord?" she asked gently, "Is anything the matter? Perhaps you wish to return to the dance?"
"No, no, my lady. No, not at all," and he smiled, "It cheers my heart to be here with you my lady, and to know that you are safe." His face became clouded for a moment, and she moved over to stand in front of him. "If anything had happened to you..."
His face was white now, the lips tight and she could see the muscle in his cheek clenching and unclenching.
Her hand reached out, the fingertips just resting near the centre of his chest, "But it didn't, my lord. You saw to that." She smiled warmly, her voice quiet. "I meant what I said in the Hall, my lord. I am forever in your debt."
"No indeed, my lady," he said softly as he covered her hand with his own, laid his other hand gently against her arm and looked into her eyes. "Rather I have repaid some of the debt I owed you from when first we met."
She flushed, and looked down, but did not remove her hand, "Please, my lord . . "
He cut her off, "It is true, my lady. I have told you before you did me a great kindness and I am glad to have been able to repay you in some small measure, though in truth it was nothing. I am only glad that you were unharmed."
She was looking up at him again now and he murmured, "I saw the look in your eyes as you looked round for me, my lady. I was there. I was coming."
She gasped to hear he had so clearly read her thoughts in that moment she had been dragged into the shadows. She was at a loss and had no words to respond to him with. She felt her eyes fill with tears once more and she did not know why. She gazed into those grey-green eyes, and wondered if he could hear her heart for it seemed to her the sound of it filled her ears till she could hear nothing else.
"You look a little flushed, my lady, perhaps we should sit down."
He released her hand and she let it fall, nodding silently, allowing him with one hand resting lightly between her shoulders to lead her to a stone seat carved out of the wall to one side of the door of the antechamber. They sat, in silence, and stared out into the night.
It was she who spoke first. "I love the stars," she said simply. "It is one of the few memories I have of my father: him leading me outside at night to stare upwards while he would tell me their names and teach me the constellations." She turned to Legolas now, "The elves are great lovers of the stars, are they not? When your people first awoke in the East it was only by the light of the stars that you walked, and they have been special in your hearts ever since then, is that not so?"
He smiled, "Yes indeed, my lady. I too love nights such as these, when it is clear and bright with starlight. I feel truly myself and at peace in such moments."
She was watching him now as he spoke, nearly as much to himself as her, his eyes bright in the moonlight, the light of the silvered threads in his tunic gleaming and shining. He was beautiful.
And together they talked of the stars. She would point out the constellations that she knew and he would show her ones that she did not or else relate the names of the stars themselves, till at last she shivered slightly, not realising how long they had been there.
He looked concerned. "Forgive me, my lady. We have stayed here over long and now you feel the chill of the night air. Let us return inside where you may be warm again." She thanked him and nodded though she was, in truth, sorry to leave.
As once more she took his arm and they crossed the antechamber to return to the dance, she stopped and turned towards him slightly. "My lord Legolas?"
"My lady?"
"I.." but she did not finish. She was not even sure what it was she wanted to say. She looked up at him and smiled apologetically.
Returning her smile, he took her free hand gently in his own, kissed it tenderly and laid it on top of her other hand that was hooked under his forearm; arm in arm they went back into the dance.
