EHEHEHE! I have returned. Anyone who enjoys reading this little story should thank "Eleanor Rigbey" for virtually holding me at gunpoint and making me update :) You're awesome, Katie!

So, yeah...I'm back and...Enjoy!

CHAPTER IV

Strange, was it not, that though she had ridden late into the night and was in a room below ground, Lassiel rose with sun? She stumbled out of bed, under the mistaken impression that she had horses to feed. When she realized where she was, and why, she sat down on the bed in dismay, and like a frightened child she began to cry. She was tired, and fustrated, and everything was begining to weigh her down terribly.

After a moment or two she composed herself, and berated herself for being foolish. Suddenly she yawned hugely. She took another moment to stretch in an almost feline manner, and then she rose from her bed and walked slowly to the wooden wardrobe across the room.

She was delighted with what she found inside. Several fine dresses, mostly in soft, muted greens, hung there. She ran her hands along one that featured full sleeves and delicate silver embroidering. It seemed likely to fit, and it was beautiful, and yet simple. It was also a far cry from what she usually donned, for a dress was hardly practical when you trained horses for a living.

After a moment's hesitation she put it on, and inspected herself via the mirror that hung on the stone wall. It did fit. Granted, a bit tight on the hips and chest. She had been considered tall, especially for a woman, and rather straight and slim at home. Now, she noted with some pleasure, for it was not something she had ever been able to claim before, she was in comparison rather curvy.

Her hair had been braided tightly the night before, for she had bathed and did not want it to grow knotted while she slept. The bath, to her pleasure, had been hot and soothing. The water was heated by a source unseen, and flowed in and out constantly. She wondered if the water did not circulate in from the river that rushed so near the dwelling.

Now she released her hair, and looking the mirror she scarcely recognized herself. Her hair cascaded down her back in gentle waves of gold. She was wearing a dress, and a fine one at that.

A soft knock on her door ended her preening. It was, of course, Legolas, come to escort her to breakfast. Already irritated with him, despite the fact that she had not yet seen his face, she opened the door.

He gave her a gentle smile, which she did not return. She would not have under any circumstance, but now her stomach gave a sudden lurch. The idea of being brought before the household made her sick with apprehension.

Feeling ill, she followed Legolas through the hall, around a corner, and then into a large, open room with a vaulted ceiling. Inside was a long table, laden with food, at which many Elves sat.

The king strode forward to greet them, and Lassiel gave a quick, nervous bow, and then kept her eyes turned downward. Thranduil looked at her in surprise. Very gently he raised her chin with his hand. Oh, his eyes were bright; Lassiel feared he could see into her soul. Her heart raced. This, then, was the Elvenking of legends, powerful beyond mortal understanding

"Welcome to Mirkwood," he said in her tongue, and Lassiel graced him with the first real smile any of them had seen, allowing herself some pleasure at being so quickly accepted. He smiled back at her.

Legolas was surprised at this exchange, and the tiniest bit jealous. He had been trying to earn such a smile for the past two days, to no avail.

Together they went and sat at the head of the wooden table. Lassiel sat at Legolas' left, and kept her face to her plate.

Gradually the table grew quiet, and she could feel the eyes on her. This would be a long meal, she realized. Soon talk swelled again, much to her relief, and it seemed she was forgotten about for the time being. For a while she listened curiously to the strange, flowing speech that poured so fluently from the mouths of the Fair Folk, but she quickly grew bored with this. When she had eaten all she wanted, which was no small amount, she felt, for the food was extraordinary, she found herself searching for new means of entertainment.

It was then that she discovered an interesting game that could be played while at the table. She moved around the table systematically, locking eyes with each Elf in turn. All, she found, looked away quickly, obviously uncomfortable. Lassiel enjoyed herself immensely, however.

Her present victim was a raven-haired elf who evidently had some status, for his raiment was finer than most To Lassiel's chagrin, he met her eyes calmly, looking on her with mild interest and nothing more. His eyes were a clear gray sparked with bright silver, and they observed her cooly, asking why it was she thought herself deserving of pity. It was she who finally broke their gaze, feeling her face burn as she turned her eyes to her plate.

Thranduil raised a hand, silencing the table. He began to speak, and Lassiel gathered that he was doling out orders to his guard and household. Then with a smile he turned and spoke to Legolas, looking at Lassiel kindly.

"I have been relieved of guard duty," Legolas explained. "My father wishes us to have the day together."

Lassiel noted with satisfaction that he did claim that he himself wished to spend the day with her. "How kind," she said in an absolute monotone, her voice bearing neither sincerity nor sarcasm.

Legolas chose not to reply. He rose from the table and she followed after slowly, unwilling to appear overeager. On their way out of the hall they were intercepted, and Lassiel hid her face, for it was her dark haired friend from the table. He said something in low tones to Legolas, who gave a short laugh in response. Lassiel hoped he was not recounting her recent behavior. But to her relief he only nodded graciously, murmuring a few words of polite acknowledgment as he stepped past.

"Well, what is it you wish to do?" asked Legolas.

Lassiel began to reply, but stopped short of speaking as a child, not three years in age, wrapped himself around Legolas' legs, laughing wildly.

"Taurgil!" Legolas lifted the child up and kissed him gently on the forehead. A woman followed close behind, smiling apologetically.

Lassiel fought back her annoyance as, once again, a conversation was held in a language she did not know. She fiddled with the sleeves of her dress impatiently, until she noticed that the little boy was watching her with large green eyes. She smiled at him, and he hid his face in his hands, peaking through his fingers curiously every once in a while. Then he laughed merrily, and stretched his arms out towards Lassiel.

Legolas looked to his mother for permission, and she nodded, though she did not look unconcerned. Lassiel took the little boy, and he immediately began to babble inanely. He might have been speaking his language fluently, for all she knew, but she doubted that, judging from his age.

Taurgil twisted his fist securely into Lassiel hair, and yanked. His mother made to scold him, but Lassiel laughed and gently unwound the little one's fingers. Bereft of his entertainment, the child quickly grew bored, and began to squirm. Lassiel set him down, and he ran a bit unsteadily towards his mother, who took his hand and led him away.

"That was my cousin Branneth, and her son Taurgil," Legolas said, still smiling faintly. "He seems taken with you."

"I like children; they like me," she said in a dismissive manner. "Where is Elwing?"

"In the stables, I would imagine. Come; I shall take you there."

Following Legolas through the winding halls made Lassiel realize just how easily she could become lost. As they strode down one snaking passage, Legolas commented that there were at least two routes to almost every main hall. The slope of the floor began to rise, and she knew they must have been approaching an exit.

When they finally emerged into daylight, Lassiel had to smile at the sight the greeted them. A score of horses roamed freely about large clearing. Her homesickness faded slightly.

"But..." she began, now frowning, "is there no fence?"

"No," he said. "We have no need for one. Our horses stay of their own accord; they have no desire to wander."

"And what of the spiders?"

"The spiders scarcely dare to tread our borders. They would never come to the very heart of our realm."

"And," she caught sight of Alagos, his tail streaming out behind him like a banner in the wind, "what of the mares and stallions? Together, I mean."

Legolas frowned slightly. "I am afraid I do not understand what you are asking."

Lassiel shifted uncomfortably. "Do the mares not get with foal?"

"Of course," he answered. "But why should that trouble us? We are provided with more horses each season."

Lassiel had never considered things that way. Horses were bread selectively, and the mares and stallions were kept far apart, if possible, and any stallion unfit for breeding was gelded. The thought of simply letting the horses exist in the form of a small herd was alien, and yet it appealed to her.

"I believe your mare is in the stables." Legolas interrupted her philosophical musings on equine behavior.

Elwing's head was thrust over her stall door as she watched the other horses wistfully. She greeted Lassiel joyously, her nostrils fluttering as her low nicker rose into a trumpeting whinny. Then she turned and paced a circle around her stall, tossing her head anxiously, before returning to her outlook at the door.

"She wishes to join her friends," commented Legolas softly.

"I know," Lassiel snapped irritably. That much was obvious. She was not sure, however, that she wanted to let Elwing loose to run wild with the others. What if...she hated to think such things, but what if Elwing proved unwilling to come when Lassiel called?

She toyed with the latch on the stall door. It was wooden latch, simple though ornately carved, and light enough to be broken easily; apparently the Wood-elves did not think highly of confining their horses.

"It is safe?" she asked Legolas dubiously. "You are certain?"

"Quite," he replied, exasperated.

"Alright then," she sighed. She placed her hands on either side of Elwing's head, and pressed her cheek against the mare's soft muzzle. "Just come back to me, alright?" she murmured quietly, and Elwing's ears flickered at the sound of her voice. Lassiel unlatched the door and swung it open.

Elwing lowered her nose to the ground, sniffing hesitantly. She took two halting strides forward, still dragging her nose along the ground. Then she paused and lifted her head, and, seeming to gain confidence, trotted a few steps towards the herd. Suddenly, she sprang forward, kicking her heels into the air and sending clumps of grass and dirt flying as she galloped off.

Elwing touched her nose to that of a chestnut mare, and Lassiel held her breath, waiting for a chorus of harsh squeals. Instead though, the two began to groom each other, nuzzling each other's withers as if they were old friends.

Lassiel wished silently that it could be so easy for her.

"I should like for you to learn our tongue," Legolas was saying. Lassiel was not listening. She picked at her dinner, and snuck a glance at the dark-haired Elf who had spoiled her fun at the morning meal. His name was Faronel, she had come to find out. Why she really cared she was not sure, but she did.

"Lassiel?"

"Hmm?"

"I asked you if your mother taught you much Sindarin."

"Oh. No, not much. A few simple courtesies, that is all." She frowned, not at all in the mood for this. She made a face at Taurgil, who watched her with wide eyes. Come sit on my lap, she pleaded. Anything to make this a little more bearable. She had grown tired of outright hostility towards Legolas (except when he truly deserved it), and had instead resorted to cool indifference. But things were just so awkward! It was so hard to speak to him; she was never sure where her boundaries lay, and neither was he. And all the other Elves made a point of not staring at her, not even looking at her, and it drove her mad.

"You would do well to learn more, then, for very few of us know any other language."

"Yes, I suppose so," she said distantly. Faronel had finished his meal and with a quick bow to the king was off down a corridor.

"May I go?" she asked Legolas suddenly.

"If you are done eating, then yes, you may go."

"Thank you." She rose, made some semblance of a curtsey to Thranduil, who nodded, and followed Faronel through the hall on the left.

He heard her coming, and turned around. What am I doing? How was she supposed to introduce herself? 'Hello, Master Elf, I am following you'? And she could hardly claim she was lost, being all of ten feet from the dining hall.

When she did not say anything, he inclined his head slightly and said, "Lady."

"I am no lady," she burst, and to her utter relief he laughed merrily.

"But of course you are! You are Legolas' daughter."

"You speak my tongue! I was worried we might not understand each other." She cursed her own tongue and lips and throat, for they seemed determined to sabotage her dignity.

"Do you need assistance?" he asked, clearly wondering why she was chasing after him.

"No, no…I grew tired of the dinner table. I find it very tedious to be carefully looked away from by everyone at the table, as though they would rather I not be there." She certainly had not intended to admit that.

"Yes, I noted as much this morning." He arched an elegant eyebrow.

"Oh…I am terribly sorry about that…" Oh, by Eru, she was such a fool. "I just…I could not understand what anyone was saying, and it seemed likely they were all speaking of me, and I was sick of it."

He shrugged, giving her no assurance that it was all right. "When I was told of your situation, I though for certain that you would be shy and timid, or something of the like, but you have quite surprised me."

"Is that good?" she asked.

He looked at her thoughtfully, but offered no answer. Instead he said, "Well, Lady-

"Please call me Lassiel."

"Very well. I am headed towards the stables, to see if my mare is foaling. She is due any day."

"May I come with you?" She sounded like a troublesome little girl, following one of her many idolized figures around most annoyingly, she thought.

"Do you know anything of horses?"

Lassiel bristled at this. "I train and raise horses for a living."

"Oh, forgive me then," he said. "I did not mean to offend you, though I must admit it seems easy to do."

Lassiel blinked at him, but he said this casually, without any hint of irritation.

"But if you are a capable horsewoman, I would be glad to have you accompany me."

She felt an inexplicable wash of happiness. Horses, she told herself. Horses always make me feel better. But something told her it was not the horses this time.

A/N: Well, there you have it. Farnonel was intended to mean "hunter of stars"... Taurgil- "Forest star", "star forest" something like that...I was very tired when I threw that one together...Anyway, this has not yet been edited...if anyone wants to be my beta, please email me!