Legolas smiled serenely as Aragorn drifted to sleep and the four Elves chatted about days gone by into the night. After a while the twins decided to get some sleep before they headed out of the city to meet the riders from Rohan. Neither Legolas nor Lómëmir had anything to attend to which would require rest, so they decided to let sleeping mortals lie and headed out for a walk around the benighted White City to star gaze.

Long about the fifth level Legolas stopped suddenly and peered out into the deep night about the city. Lómëmir looked too and saw what the other Elf did: a small faction of Fair People making their way on foot to Minas Tirith along the Anduin. Legolas did not recognize them as people from Mirkwood or Lothlorien and had utterly no idea what kingdom they might represent, for he knew Elrond's people to be some way off yet. Their shield's emblems were unknown to him. They were of a regal blue fixed with a bird of white whose wings transformed into deep green leaves.

Lómëmir had at first taken them as a vanguard for the House of Elrond, who Aragorn knew to be on his way to Minas Tirith. As they drew somewhat closer she came to realize, as has Legolas, that she did not know these Elves.

The two glanced at each other. "Shall we greet them?" Legolas asked Lómëmir.

She nodded. "It might be best. Everyone else is gone to their rest this night, and it would doubtless be offensive to have a greeting from only the guards of a broken gate."

Agreeing, they made their way quickly downward through the tiered city and out across the former battlefield. Meeting the guards of the small group, Legolas bowed respectfully, noting that though he knew not these Elves, they were certainly a regal and skilled people, judging by the insignia and the quality of their effects.

"Vedui, Thranduilion," came a masculine but youthful voice from behind the guards, who quickly parted. Stepping forward was an Elf obviously of high rank. He was young-looking and lithe, as are all Elves, but in him was a different quality that neither Legolas nor Lómëmir could exactly ascertain. It might have been his dark hair and brooding expression, though his countenance briefly seemed to turn to one of intrigue as Lómëmir stepped slightly forward. It might also have been the fact that though this Elf seemed to hold a great deal of wisdom that only comes with many years, perhaps more years than even Lord Elrond had known, he held utterly no grief but seemingly much boredom.

Legolas, for his part, was rather surprised that this Elf knew him, but decided to let it pass. Remembering himself to indeed be the son of the King of the Woodland Realm, he returned the greeting to the stranger. Legolas did not understand his own feeling of creeping discretion around this party. Having spoken but two words, this stately-seeming stranger had shown the Mirkwood Prince a good deal indeed, mostly that he knew much and told much less. Loathe to ask, yet moreso to remain unknowing, Legolas cautiously ventured his somewhat annoyed question, "Mani na essa en le?"

"Nan Tar-Morion in Taure-Forambalar," was the stranger's answer. It served as little enlightenment to either Legolas or Lómëmir, neither of them had heard of the land of Taure-Forambalar. Legolas thought that such a descriptive name might refer to the small clump of trees at the northern end of the Sea of Rhûn, and he asked the self-titled King if that was the land he referred to.

Morion laughed but anyone could tell it was forced laughter. "Arda-amin a pella Anga-amban," he said unenthusiastically.

Legolas had personally had enough of this Elf's audacity to speak Quenya when Legolas had made a point to keep his replies and questions in Sindarin. As he was raised, it was the duty of the guest to adapt to the custom of his host, at the very least in speech. Deciding to break from Elven tongue altogether, Legolas spoke now in Westron. "What is your affair in Gondor, King Morion?" he asked as politely as he could manage. As awed as he had been of the strangers craft work, he was quickly losing respect of their etiquette.

"I am come to offer greeting to the great king of Men," Morion said in a somewhat outdated mode of Westron. Legolas thought this group of Elves must have been very removed from the dealings of the world indeed. "A great king he must indeed be, the future of the very world, so they say, to hire a foreign Elf-prince as his guard, and a fair lady as his herald."

Legolas's hand twitched furiously as he instinctively wanted to reach back into his quiver (which he was not wearing) and nock an arrow, so much did this foreign king begin to offend him. Legolas's voice was tight as his bowstring. "Neither i nor the Lady Lómëmir are hired by Aragorn, Lord Morion. We are his friends and merely thought it might be kind to greet strangers into our friend's land."

Morion smiled almost smirkingly, but it lasted no longer than any other emotion he had deigned to exhibit. "As you will, friends of the great king of Men... show us to his halls."

Legolas was fuming as he turned and walked back toward the city. Lómëmir herself was feeling somewhat indignant, but she also had the understanding that these Elves apparently did not know how much the world had changed even since 100 years ago.

Up all seven levels Legolas and Lómëmir walked with the new comers following. Before entering the Citadel, however, Legolas stopped and instructed the company to find their rest for the night. He had decided that he would not invite these outsiders into his best friend's home while he slept. The foreign king looked highly displeased with this, but, naturally, that faded like mist on a sunny morning. Just as Legolas and Lómëmir were about to depart them and return to the Citadel themselves, Morion called out.

"Why, Thranduilion, have you not introduced your fair wife?" he asked, though he sounded as though he really did not care.

At that Legolas blushed noticeably, which only made him angrier with this foreigner. "You must forgive me for not introducing her to you, Lord Morion. However, she is not my wife." Legolas wanted to add something along the line of, "you might have introduced yourself, had you so wished," but he decided that he would keep his outburst to himself, at least until after Aragorn had a chance to meet with the envoy.

Morion decided to ignore what he considered the rude-mannered son of Thranduil, and instead he turned his attention to the exquisite Lómëmir. "My lady," he said with a deep bow, "i am Morion, King of the far wood, and i am utterly at your command." With that Morion swept up Lómëmir's hand and pressed a soft kiss to her slender fingers, glancing up to display a hint of a spark in his green eyes.

Lómëmir could not help but feel rather charmed by this mysterious King, though she did slowly draw her hand back after his gentle greeting in some hesitation. It was then that she realized what she had found strange about these Elves. They did not glow.

ooo

Vedui, Thranduilion Greetings, son of Thranduil.

Mani na essa en le What is your name?

Nan Tar-Morion in Taure-Forambalar I am King Morion of the Northeast Forest (literally Forest-Northeast)

Arda-amin a pella Anga-amban My realm is beyond the Iron Hills.

Yes, friends, i am back from my vacation and all ready to write again. I plan on finishing this story (- hope you all like it so far, hope some of the readers who enjoyed my work on Chaos Theory will hop over and read this too, and i hope the readers who have enjoyed this story aren't too mad at me for finishing Chaos Theory before continuing Immortal Beloved... i promise to make it up to you :) - and then trying my hand at Glor-Ere mild slash, drabbles, if not a whole story. I definitely want to do some POV stuff with those two, just to show just how alike the really are, deep down.

Fear not, i will be back to picking apart poor Fara's troubled soul before too long too. A sequel to Chaos Theory is brewing in my mind, though i doubt Faramir will be required to face anything as serious as a pissed off Morgoth.