Well folks, here it is. Our Beta Goddess has had some technical problems, so my dear Partner in Crime, Andariel666 and I have done what we could to beta this ourselves, until she returns. I do hope you enjoyed, I'm Your Fella, Cinderella. If you have not read it, I don't think this chapter will make much sense, though, eventually, the series will I want to extend my thanks to all of you who read and reviewed the last chapter! Hope you enjoy our sequel!

"I shall be in my study if anyone requires my presence. I have invitations to work on."

"Yes, your majesty."

Alrion bowed low, and as was custom, waited until I turned away from him, before he turned his back to me to alert the staff. The halls were empty for a change, and though I could hear the merry chatter in the grassy courtyards, not a soul could be found in my wing.

I all but ran to the study.

Before another servant could come and fret over my hair, (clucking for the four thousandth time over it's length and queer color), or a lady-in-waiting could ask for my approval of yet another swatch of fabric for the ceremony, or some other chef could come in with a fine bowl of steaming soup for the 7th appetizer for the rehearsal banquet, I would write this letter.

Now, where to begin?

"A quill would be helpful Kalia." I murmured, and dug in the drawer for said utensil.

Shortly after arriving, the queen had been gracious enough to provide me with my own wing, which was conveniently situated between her wing and the king's, and furnished my rooms and study. My desk, made from wood all the way from Lothlórien, was one of many early wedding presents that had been trickling in over the year.

I suppose if I was to be celibate, his relations thought we should be showered in gifts.

I pulled open a drawer, now looking for the fancy parchment with my Tengwar symbol pressed on the bottom. My desk was such a mess, but it couldn't be helped, I had been using it often lately, and rarely had time to straighten things out. As I fished blindly in the drawer for the parchment, my fingers wrapped around a small stack, and in my haste, I cut myself.

"Damn." I muttered, and then pulled the stack out. I planted my finger in my mouth, and sucked, my eyes scanning the familiar scrawl on the brown parchment. It was an old letter from Tyrael.

"…Kalia, the elves here are strange to say the least. They are a bit overfond of trees in my opinion, and just the other day a laundry maid was bent out of shape because I thought it fun to try to climb one of the mallorn trees to get a better view of the city. She went on for twenty minutes about how the special spiked boots I wore for grip would scar the bark, and blah blah blah…They look at me so queerly here Kali, it's as if they don't like me. My only friends are Rúmil and Phinny, but only Phinny works a shift that is complimentary to mine, so I spend more time with him. No one here even looks like me, they look more like you and Haldir…I miss the dark hair and grey eyes of my kin…"

I sighed softly, and flipped through the stack. I knew what was unsaid in the letter: "I miss my own kin…I miss ada…"

The next letter was from Haldir, who, unlike Tyrael, was familiar in how to post a letter, and therefore began with lovely pleasantries inquiring about her state of affairs, before he went on into his narrative.

"…Tyrael seems to be adjusting to life in the golden wood as well as I expected. She is a bit…restless, but I am glad to see my brother manages to amuse her, though I admit my heart warns be against their close friendship, I dare not voice such jealous feelings to her, as I am sure I am being foolish. Orophin has never given me reason to suspect he harbors any improper feelings towards her. I suspect I am merely drawing conclusions because I am not home as often. I have been away for long stretches of time patrolling the borders, and I fretted over how she would fare. If only she could find an activity to do during the day. She has no need to wash and clean, as she is no longer a servant, and when I suggest she mend my tunics, she laughs so hard, she sets herself into a fit of coughing that takes several moments, (and a cup of ale) to subdue…"

I pulled yet another parchment, this from Tyrael again, her handwriting even more tight and compact, as she was excited.

"Wonderful news Kalia! I have been made a Captain! Oh, I suppose I should mention that I became a sentry of Galadhrim. I joined when Haldir was away in the northern borders for two months, and Galadriel thought my merits and skill so fine, she gave me my own small regiment to oversee. They are only 6 men, but they are mine to guide and train. Haldir will be so pleased!"

And, as I expected, Haldir's response to the news.

"Were I not bound by my undying respect for the lady, I would surely believe she has lost her wits. She had made Tyreal a captain, as I am sure you know, and they are calling her Lady March Warden! Kalia, I do not doubt her skill as a warrior, but she could get injured on the field. I suppose, though I never noticed, that she was suffering when staying here alone, but knowing she was safe in the forest brought be great comfort Kalia. Now how shall I go on, knowing that she is out in battle as well? I wish there was something that could keep her bound to this talan, that didn't involve manacles and a carafe of Celeborn's brew…"

I chuckled and pulled out another roll, this was one of the most recent narratives from Tyrael.

"My back hurts, my breasts feel like over filled flasks of water, and I can map all of middle earth on the markings on my belly. Kalia, how will I survive these next few months? What was I thinking when I allowed that…ELF to impregnate me? Oh, wait…I remember now…I wish I could say I am drawing from recent memory, but he has not TOUCHED me since my belly grew bigger than his ego. Most days he scarcely looks at me, and all I hear are his complaints over my March Warden's uniform, which, I might add, I made myself so I am none too pleased to know he dislikes it. If it wasn't for Phinny I swear I would have gone mad! I cannot wait until I come to see you Kalia, you won't keep me bound to a boring Talan will you? They have talans in Mirkwood don't they?"

"If Tyrael thinks I shall allow her to take the long journey all the way to Mirkwood in her current condition she is mad Kalia. Already it takes every ounce of control not to ravish her daily. She looks so beautiful she takes my breath away. Her cheeks are rosy as a youngling's and her hair is even silkier than before. And her belly! She is far bigger than any other elleth with child in the city, and it pleases me to know that her burden is MINE. I was so surprised when she consented to the babe, but so very happy. Every night, when she is asleep, I watch her, and pet her belly, whispering to the baby. I tell him (as I am sure it shall be a boy) how lucky he will be to have such a brave and strong mother. She is ever busy with her duties as March Warden. Did she tell you she still goes out and does her rounds? She has altered her uniform (thank Eru, it was FAR too revealing and she IS my wife.) I only wish she would not wear the breast plate. That cannot encourage breast milk production…"

"If Haldir thinks I shall stay home while my best friend and cousin marries a prince, he has the wits of a Half-ling. I will sneak on the back of a packhorse if necessary, but I will be there Kalia. I do hope you write again soon, too long has it been since I last heard your voice through the parchment. How are things there in Mirkwood? Have they been kind to my Kalia? I do hope to see your invite soon!"

I cracked my neck and dipped my fine quill into the ink well.

"Salutations Tyrael! It has been too long since I last corresponded with you, and for that I am sorry…"

I looked up from my writing upon hearing the loud voices of the King's advisor and my lady-in-waiting, Melthera. It would seem they were at odds over something but as it did not involve me yet, I would pay no mind to it.

"Things here in the palace are fine indeed. I was a bit…out of sorts with the adjustment from servant to the Prince's intended, but I think things progressed as smoothly as can be expected…"

There, that wasn't a lie, albeit not entirely true. For three weeks straight someone had been slipping notes with words such as "Go back to the pack animals, stable girl!" scrawled on them, that is, until Legolas found one. He had managed to slip past all of the elves who "happened to be" wandering in the hallway of my wing. Armed with the intention of softly and quietly unraveling me with every part of his anatomy but that which I most desired, but he stopped mid kiss when the slip of paper slid under the door.

"What's this? A note from a secret lover?'"

My heart raced as I recognized the familiar paper, but I did my best to cover my anxiety. He wasn't supposed to see them. I would have burned it as I had done to the others, so he wouldn't have to know that all were NOT accepting his decision in his bride.

"Not unless you have-"

My voice was cut off by the play of dark emotions across his face as he read the letter. It would seem this was longer than the rest. His voice was like sharpened steel when he questioned me.

"Who wrote this?"

"I do no know, I-"

"How many have you gotten Kalia? It says here, 'You have not heeded our advice.' What advice was this?"

I felt my hands tremble, and knew my forehead would be riddled with fine lines, but I could not bring myself to speak easily.

As if reading my mind, Legolas stalked over to the fire and motioned to toss the latest letter into the flame, but hesitated. His eyes were as hot as the very hearth he was standing in front of, and he pulled a half-charred bit of parchment from the ash with his boot. The words "Forest demon," were still visible.

"You did not tell me you were being harassed."

"This isn't harassment Legolas, it is a prank. And it is nothing I am not used to, I did live as a servant before you "saved" me you know. Their cruel words are not foreign to me, and they do not hurt me."

"I will find out who is responsible for this." He remarked, and then angrily stormed out of my room, calling for his mother and father to be roused.

I shook my head, eager to remover my thoughts from that foul memory, and continued.

"Legolas is ever busy as Haldir, out patrolling the borders and sometimes going on adventures with the ranger we met in Rivendell, Aragorn. He has a great deal of respect for the man."

In truth, I had hardly seen Legolas for more than a couple of weeks at a time since they had arrived in Mirkwood, as he and his father had been spooked by the orc movement spotted in the south, and decided their army needed an overhaul. When he was home, he was often tired, and his face would be drawn with worry he would not share with me.

"The queen has taken me under her wing, and when she isn't busy with other tasks, we enjoy calm walks in one of the many gardens. Oftentimes one of the court ladies will join us, and this in turn has enabled me to befriend Nessa, who, as it turns out, is a very lovely elleth. We have long since forgiven one another for any miscommunication that might have arisen from when Legolas announced his engagement."

Indeed, it was oft that I found Nessa being just as talkative with Legolas as she was with me, though I knew better than to foster foolish jealousy over their intimacy. The prince was allowed to have his friends, just as I was allowed to have mine, which would have been a grand arrangement had I friends that lived in Mirkwood. In truth, aside from Legolas, the queen was my only friend, and she worried me of late. She would grimace when we took long walks in the garden, and her skin seemed swallow and damp all of the time. I wondered if I was the only one who noticed, for, the king, nor his son seemed to be concerned with her. In fact, no one was bothered by her state of health, therefore I decided I was perhaps mistaken. Still, I did miss her voice when I would stroll in the gardens alone, though I made sure to bring her fresh flowers daily.

"The wedding details are almost finished, which, in fact, is why I am writing you. I wish to formally extend our invitation to our event, and I want you to know this invitation is extended to all in Lothlórien who wish to come. Please respond with much haste, as her majesty wishes to finalize the guest list in one month. I do look forward to seeing you two, and I miss you. Send my love to the family.

-Kalia"

I sighed again, and rubbed my temples. The wedding details had been slowly driving me mad, and, if you listened to Rupert, were no where NEAR done, therefore were taking up more and more of my time. I had not even used the bow and quiver Haldir had given me in Rivendell, partly for lack of time, and partly because Rupert assured me that the court would be scandalized if they knew their future princess was out in the ranges, getting dirty and using pointy objects.

I stared at him for at least 2 minutes before I established he was serious. One look at the King, who seemed to be in agreement, and I was resigned to put my precious gift away, for a spell.

I did wish to see Tyrael and Haldir, and all of my kin from Lothlórien for that matter, as I so missed their antics. Since arriving there had been little play in the forest, and I missed the ruckus Tyrael and I had found ourselves in that summer. The only mischief that had taken place had been by the hand of Legolas, and it wasn't even mischief really. He had decided to cut his hair, which had all but reached his waist, to a length of that of a boy who has just reached puberty. I remember I wrinkled my nose when I saw his new style.

"You shouldn't have cut your hair, mela. Your ears are far too big for such a length."

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and replied, "You know what they say about elves that have big ears…"

"Sure, they produce more ear wax." I deadpanned, and he laughed.

Later, I learned he had cut his hair as a sign of grief over the loss of a dear friend and ranger. It was the man's custom, and Legolas had adopted it out of respect. It would seem the lives of many would be changed by this new rise of orcs. I only prayed Legolas would maintain his safety.

Familiar footsteps were growing louder as feet slapped on the marble floor, and I didn't bother to turn around. I had heard the pack of horses arriving, though I would let the man have his glory. He never tired of stating the obvious.

"Your majesty?"

"Yes."

"The prince has returned."

I nodded stoically, and handed him the letter bound for Lothlórien. Thank Eru, he was home, I had missed him, and once again, had not seen him for two weeks! At the rate we were going I would no longer recognize him by the wedding in two months! I brushed back a lock of hair from my eyes, and made my way out of my quarters, a newfound lightness in my step.

My love was home, and I was going to greet him.

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