Legolas smiled at the scene before him and inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of flowers and food into him, trying to fix the time in his memory more clearly than would happen naturally. He took in all the colors, the swirling dresses of the serving she-elves, the elves who were dancing as they waited to be sent to their seats, the platters of food being set upon the tables as the final moments before the meal approached.

"Is it true?" a soft voice asked behind him.

He smiled at the other's presence, turned slightly to greet her with a kiss to her forehead. "Yes."

Her eyes lowered, but she said nothing for a long while. She knew he wanted a chance to get away from the palace, to help the only way the second son of a king could. She knew he didn't care about the danger in his hatred for the things that made the forest dark. Swallowing back all her own objections, she took his hand and moved to his side. "I'll miss you."

Some small amount of pain flickered through them both that she couldn't say 'we'll all miss you,' but it had been many years since either had thought about trying, truly trying, to change that. They could both see it wouldn't happen, even without the gift of foresight some elves possessed.

Legolas shook melancholy thoughts away and squeezed her hand gently. "Save a dance for me, all right?"

"You need but ask," she replied with a sad smile.

Teraien came in behind them, his eyes narrowing and his jaw tightening as he saw the tender moment between his younger siblings. They were as close as brothers and sisters could be, partially because there were only a few hundred years difference in age between them, partially because their mother had doted on them both.

Teraien may not have been the wisest of elves, but he knew that if not for his age, Legolas would have been the one to rule after their father left for the havens. He just didn't understand why. Thranduil had always offset their mother's love for her two blond-haired children, showering his eldest son with praise and attention. But after their mother had died so tragically, Thranduil had sat back and taken a hard look around, and seemed to have decided he no longer liked what he saw in Teraien.

Since then the prince had done his best to oust Legolas, not to much success. If anything, the little twerp's quiet acceptance of the constant degrading he was subjected to seemed to increase his esteem in their father's eyes.

With a snort he looked away from his brother and took in the ladies of the court. Eyeing them for a while, he decided he may as well figure out which one he would go after for the night. He dismissed his more recent conquests without a second thought. Recent being within a few years. There weren't many left who fell into the eligible category, but since there were more arriving every few days because of the spider attacks, he had fresh prospects everywhere he looked as more filed into the hall.

There came the young elf Legolas had brought back from one of the boarder villages. She was a tad too young. If he bedded her, Thranduil would be told by Legolas, or his dear sister, and Teraien would get an earful. However, the elven ladies laughing at her simple country gown were old enough, pretty enough, and, if the way they watched him was any indication, susceptible to the charms of any elf with a title such as his.

It was a good thing Legolas had never figured out the pull a title, especially one as impressive as 'prince' could create in she-elves.

Teraien's dark eyes fell on a she-elf he had not noticed before, either in the chaos earlier or at any other time. She had purely black hair pulled back with a series of small braids that all wove their way to the back of her head, where the rest was free, her unbound hair nearly too short for a she-elf, barely longer than any warrior elf's would be. Her ears tips were a bit more defined than most, a wood-elf beyond any doubt. Still, with her pale skin and dark hair and eyes, she stood out, despite the dark gown she wore, which hung ill fittingly at best. A hand-me-down, no doubt.

Absently he was aware of his father entering, and took his seat at his father's right as his baby sister sat on Thranduil's left. Legolas, as always, sat beside him, to his eternal annoyance. When he turned his eyes back to the she-elf, he was more than a bit surprised to find her walking towards the royal table, as if she belonged there. She tilted her head slightly at Thranduil, a question inherent in the motion.

Thranduil smiled and motioned at the empty place beside Legolas, since Oleydya had sat down beside Eirthriel, who always sat where she had when their mother was alive. That chair had remained empty since she died, and would always be so. "How have you found the palace?" he asked once she had been seated by the ever gallant Legolas.

Teraien blinked in surprise when he realized this she-elf was the spider specialist. She looked a good bit different in female clothing, ill-fitting or not. "Closed in, cold." She settled stiffly into the chair, and her eyes searched those of the other elves at the table. Her eyes paused on Teraien for an instant, before her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. "I am sure the forest seems much that way to you, though," she added belatedly, turning her eyes to the crowds.

Thranduil smiled slightly, nodding his head. "Everyone has their own idea of freedom."

"Yes," she agreed. "Thranduil?"

"Hmm?"

"Could I ask you something?"

"By all means."

"How did she find it here?"

Thranduil's eyes grew cloudy, as he gazed into the past, pulling up memories no one else could see. "She thought it well at first, but grew to despise its closed coldness," he murmured, speaking of a being no one save the two involved in the conversation knew anything about.

"Who is this?" Teraien asked softly.

"An elf I knew long ago, Teraien. Before you were born." Thranduil sighed softly and sipped his wine. "Do you need us to provide you with anything, Nenya?"

The she-elf shook her head. "I imagine my group will have things they wish to bring, but I have everything I need."

With that the unknown but now named elf turned her attention firmly to the hall, her eyes taking in everything, never resting for long anywhere. When the meal had been finished and the elves fell to dancing, she sat back and watched with great interest, it seemed to Teraien, who had been watching her with equal interest. It would be a lie to say he didn't still feel her pull.

Deciding a she-elf was a she-elf, spider specialist or not, he offered her his hand without rising from his seat, since Legolas and Eirthriel had already left to dance. "Would you care to dance?"

She lifted the brow nearest him but didn't turn to look at him. "Certainly not," she murmured, examining the movements of the elves. All of her new group were out there dancing, and she watched them most of all, sizing them up again.

With a mutter of disgust Teraien left, allowing Thranduil the chance he had been wishing for. He called Nenya to his side. He had to smile when she moved to the chair that had been Eirthriel's instead of taking Teraien's or that which was forever reserved for the queen.

"He does not know, does he?" she asked quietly after sitting, leaning towards him to make up for the distance.

"No," Thranduil murmured.

She shook her head in annoyance, letting out a breath as the elf in question slipped into the hall leading to royal chambers with a she-elf on his arm a while later, a few of the hall ladies watching the disappearance in disappointment. "Do you wish me to replace him?" she asked, her eyes falling briefly on the other prince, who was stealing another dance with his sister.

Thranduil considered the offer for a moment. "Could I ask why you chose him?"

"I only chose those who wished to go." She turned her head slightly, focusing on the prince for a fairly long moment—at least compared to her normal lightning study. "He wanted to help more than most." She glanced at Thranduil for a moment, her eyes solemn and dark. With good reason.

The words hung on the air between them, unspoken. Thranduil sighed and looked at the son he had found the spark of greatness in when his world had been darkest. "Yes," he agreed. Then he looked back at the young elf sitting beside him, who looked exceptionally young if one found her in a moment of inactivity, as long as they didn't look at her eyes. But the instant she moved the idea of innocent youth was abolished, just as it was if she turned those dark, serious eyes on you. Eyes that had seen much of darkness, too much to ever be considered as young as her years. "Would you dance with me?"

"If you wish it," she agreed faintly, a slight frown coming to her brows. When Thranduil stood she allowed him to take her hand without the hesitation he could see in her eyes.

Thranduil watched as she picked up the basics of dancing fairly rapidly. "You learn quickly."

She snorted softly and looked around. "Not well, but quickly," she agreed. After a few dances, he led her back to the table, where she thankfully slid back into the chair he had given her. "Is there no place out of this stifling hall?" she asked as the dances continued, her eyes darting around the room in an over-wary, almost panicked fashion.

"Of course there is," Legolas answered from behind her.

She didn't jump—she had known he approached, her head tilting slightly to determine the owner of the steps she heard. "Would you be so kind?" she asked caustically, glaring at the prince.

He tilted his head at her in no small amount of confusion before bowing slightly and holding his hand out for her, as if she were any lady of the court who had made the request.

With a sigh and a quick roll of her eyes she took his hand and allowed him to lead her out of the great hall. They passed several couples who were returning to the hall with similar looks. The two heading in that direction looked at each other in confusion, and hurried to their destination, wishing to know why fear was in the eyes of all who came towards them.

"What is it, Ertelen?" Legolas asked, pulling aside his friend as the elf hurried towards the hall.

"Wolves, Legolas," he replied quickly, heading back.

"Wolves?" Legolas asked the retreating back of his dark-haired friend.

Nenya had not stopped to wait, despite the fact her princely escort had paused in his accompaniment. Soon he was beside her once more, wishing to know if his father should be informed about whatever was happening. They stepped out onto the stone balcony that was cut into the side of the mountain, the wind rushing around them in a chilly, moist breeze. It had been raining, the scent heavy on the air.

But the reason so many elves had retreated was not in scent or sight, but in the long, piercing cries that shivered and warbled on the icy wind. Legolas shuddered at the sound, for he had never heard such before. A lone wolf occasionally was heard in such cries, but never a medley such as now wrapped his ears. It was haunting, chilling his blood and numbing his bones. He began to return to the hall as the others had, but stopped when he didn't see Nenya ahead of him.

He glanced around, assuming she had preceded him in their return, when he found her standing instead near the edge of the balcony with her eyes closed and a slight smile on her face. Her dark hair was whipped about her in the wind, but she was quite unaware of it, listening to the wolves as if theirs was the sweetest melody she had heard.

"We should return!" he called over the wind.

"Why?" she asked softly, tilting her head slightly towards him so she could better pick up his words as the wind carried hers to him.

"The wolves…" he trailed off, watching her. The cries didn't disturb her in the least.

"A lovely lullaby, isn't it?" she murmured, her smile growing, eyes opening for a moment to pierce him with sparkling black eyes before the slits closed and she turned back to facing the wood, her head tilting slightly up to feel the starlight upon her face as the wolves continued to sing.

In that moment he knew the answer to the main question watching her had raised in him earlier. She was a predator. As the wolves' song rose in pitch and the number of voices increased for a moment, a thousand other questions rushed through his mind. Now wasn't the time to ask. He was in no hurry, though. After all, in a little over a day's time he would be leaving his place in the palace to join her in the search for a reason to the spiders' fury.

~~~^*^~~~

Hey! Anyone out there?

Harumph. Well, Nea's finally satisfied with this chapter. I was the first time. I'm neither the perfectionist, nor the patient being she is. With that said, is anybody reading this? If not, I'm just going to give this a rest. In other words—no sign anyone cares, no updates.