Feeling someone near, I turned, frowning when I saw who it was. "What are you doing here?"

He sighed, lowering his head some, though he didn't ever let me out of his sight. A rather wise move, as he was in my quarters uninvited, and given the time I'd been working again, it was beginning to become cluttered with those weapons I couldn't bear to sell or replicate for the use of others. "I wanted to talk to you."

"And knocking on the door wouldn't have worked?"

"No one was about, so I entered, rather than risk being caught hanging around your door."

"Risk being caught? As in people would think something was wrong in you being in my rooms?"

"Considering who I am, who you're involved with, and that it is common knowledge the prince no longer considers me a friend… yes."

"You really sunk so low as to make him feel his mother's death was his fault?"

He flinched, his grey eyes lightening, turning almost to ash. "He didn't respond to anything… I was getting desperate." The last word was nearly a groan.

Still, I couldn't find it in me to let him off the hook. It was a rotten thing to do, even if drastic measures had been called for. "If your tries were all so negatively aimed, it may well have been that he was trying to ignore you to preserve your friendship," I retorted caustically.

Varith nodded. "I know. Now. But I was still very young… and I hadn't had much time with other elves. There are few adults here who know how to deal with little boys, as they are all—save for me—sent to the wood, only home to eat and collapse into exhausted sleep. He was the only one I had… and I have long despised myself, when I recalled that day, the words I chose." Bitterness dripped from his words, his arms crossing over his chest defensively.

After watching him silently for a while, I ran a hand through my hair, grimacing as a few hairs came away with the tie. "And what do you want with me?"

"I was assuming he told you what happened—" he snorted. "Now I know he did. I just… wanted to be sure you were going to help him finally deal with what I said."

"Varith," I shook my head. "Legolas and I are close, but I don't really know what he's thinking. There are times when it's obvious, at least to one who knows him well… but being who he is, who he has to be, has made him think about things in ways I probably never shall. He sees not only how something affects him, but how it affects everyone and everything else around him. He plans where most are content to let time sort things out. He considers all the ins and outs, all the possibilities and inconsistencies that I would most likely never even dream were a factor." I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "It makes him an excellent leader, warrior, prince… but it gives him an extra shield, even beyond that of his title. He's calculated things out, planned, accepted them… when something he didn't expect, never planned for happens… it throws him seriously off balance, makes him vulnerable until he has had time to recover. I know he was not expecting to have you as a friend again. I don't know that he will want to expend the energy and hurt needed to rid himself of this pain he has carried since her death."

Varith watched me for a long moment, then half-smiled and shook his head. "It's hard to believe, sometimes, that he wasn't always like that. There was a time when he wasn't so, we both know that… and yet… I no longer see that, see him."

"Leaf was left behind long ago—it was necessary."

He nodded with a sigh. "Yes. Because otherwise people around him might hurt him." He drew his arms more tightly around himself.

"They still can, and do. He just withdraws slightly to help avoid it."

Varith's mouth was opening on some comment when the door opened. Legolas looked between us, his warm eyes going blank as he tilted his head, watching Varith. "Joining us for dinner, love?" he finally murmured, looking at me.

"I have no other plans," I murmured back. Of course. What other plans would I have made?

"Then we should go." He lifted his hand slightly, as if not really sure if he wanted to offer it to me or not.

I didn't bother to force a smile—he would know it was forced, and it would… well, it wouldn't sit well. I took his hand, and lifted a brow at Varith, pointing at the door. He snorted but preceded us.

Usually when something happened that would bug one of us, I would wait until he began talking about it. I might poke him, draw him from his thoughts somehow… but as time passed, I grew uncomfortable with the silence. Thranduil lifted a brow at me in question when Legolas continued to gaze absently beyond us both.

I shrugged and got up, pacing over to stare at the portrait again. I had seen the queen once, but it had been from an awkward angle, and more or less wrapped up in my mother's skirts. All I remembered was feeling very crowded, and seeing an elf with a pretty blue dress.

I looked at the dagger once more, at the faint hint of it behind the flowers that could be seen.

"Figures you would be interested in that."

I glanced at him over my shoulder. "Why did she have it?"

"She was the Queen, among wood elves. Wood elves being somewhat more wild and dangerous than other elves… she didn't feel right not carrying a dagger with her. It amused the artist that she wore one."

"But he didn't want to show it obviously."

"No." Thranduil smiled faintly at the picture.

"Do you have it?"

"No. She does." His eyes darkened a bit, but he smiled at me, setting a hand on my shoulder. "I have it's match, though, if you'd care to satisfy your professional curiosity."

I glanced back at Legolas, who was still in his absent phase, so I nodded. "If you don't mind."

"Hers I would have let only you see. Mine… it is but a dagger, like the one she had." He inclined his head slightly and left for his room, returning after a moment to hand me a dagger with an ornate sheath identical to the small bits of hers I could see. There was evidence of time, even where he had held it to hand to me. Dust coated my fingers, sticking in a grimy coat. The blade gleamed dully when I looked at it, curving twice before going straight with a killer point. It was a bit ornate for my personal tastes, but I liked it as very fine work on a professional level.

I ran my thumb down the blade, making a shining trail along the middle where the edges widened to form a ridge which snaked perfectly for strength and ease of use. After studying it a bit longer, I returned it to Thranduil with a nod.

Then I turned back, seeing Legolas still gazing blindly. My distraction spent, I took a deep breath, glancing at Thranduil, who lifted a brow but obediently headed into his room. With a sigh I crossed over to Legolas, kneeling on the ground, looking up at him for a while. I reached up and put my hand in his, then rested my chin on his knee. "Legolas?"

He blinked, and looked down at me, frowning faintly before tightening his fingers around mine. "Alye?"

"You usually start talking first… I'm not really sure how to start."

He smiled faintly, his thumb arching on the inside of my wrist. "What did he want?"

I smiled wryly. "Straight to the point works," I murmured. "He wanted me to say I'd do what I could to make sure you were getting over the pain of the past."

Slowly he nodded. "Something along those lines was all I could come up with for him to go to you."

I arched a brow at him.

He laughed softly, his free hand moving to my hair, smoothing it back before tangling at my nape. "I wondered how long it would take you to approach me…"

"You… dwarf!" I jumped up from my place, wrestling him down to the ground.

He laughed and twisted, rolling us into the table. Something crashed above us, making his eyes widen before he rolled to the side, pulling me over him before pushing again, atop me as the goblets fell with a clatter, spilling dark wine where we had been moments before. After watching for a moment, he looked down at me, smirking slightly as he moved my captured hands so he was holding both above my head, wrists pressed together so he had one hand free. "Knowing Gimli, and knowing he and I are friends… do you really think that holds the sting it once did?"

I smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "Old habits," I murmured absently.

"Hmm," he agreed, shifting so his weight was on his legs, rather than his free hand, using that hand to brush my hair from my face. His smile grew dangerous, just before his thumb ran slowly to the tip of my ear and down the outer curve… pausing for a moment before backtracking.

"Legolas!"

He laughed softly, closing the distance between us for a heated kiss. I was lost… and by the way he jumped a moment later, I would say he was too.

"—ngs out."

I blinked a few times, only to find Legolas watching me in amusement. I glanced at Thranduil, whose amusement was more obvious than his son's, and less… masculine… less pleased. "What?" I asked, figuring out fairly well whatever he had said must have been directed at me.

"Things cleared up?"

I tilted my head, thinking for a moment before looking up at Legolas.

He smiled, bending to kiss me again before straightening slightly, straddling my middle, my hands still held in one of his… but he looked as though it was perfectly normal for us to be so positioned. "Forgiven my jealous twinges?"

"They're a part of you. As long as you don't do it so often I feel you don't trust me…" I felt heat rise into my ears. "I kind of like it."

His eyes brightened and heated, lids lowering a bit to help conceal it. He tugged on my hands, pulling me upright before threading my fingers together behind his head, using his freed hands to pull me closer.

Vaguely I heard a snort, but whatever it was and whatever it was about had no meaning as I tilted my head to accept Legolas's kiss. I pulled back when something solid and cold slid around my neck, settling heavily against my chest. I glanced down, seeing a metal glint before Legolas moved off of my legs, picking me up as he made his way to the large chair he had been in before our wrestling match. When he stilled, I reached beneath my shirt, pulling what he had fastened around me into the light. "Legolas?"

He traced the pattern of mithril, smiling faintly. "It is yours, after all. And fittingly beautiful."

I looked down at the pendant, having more or less forgotten about it. "The necklace was broken," I frowned, feeling the links for the break.

"Was. I had it fixed."

"By who?" He certainly hadn't asked me to… wait. "Was this what you were hesitating about?"

He murmured agreement, his eyes sparkling. "And then I held onto it for a while."

"Only a decade," I countered, before rolling my eyes. "Why now?"

He took in a deep breath and then shook his head, letting the breath out as a sigh. "I don't really know."

"I sincerely doubt that," I leaned back, looking up at him.

He smiled. "I don't. I've been holding onto it for so long… why now? Is it because old memories are surfacing and I want something solid to hold onto? Because Varith tried to make me jealous enough to ask you to be the princess before I've decided if I should ask now or when we're in the West? Or is it because I'm leaning towards now, because I'm starting to see I can't be any happier there without you than I would be here, on the shores when the longing has fully taken me?" A long fingered hand settled on my cheek, thumb arching beneath my eyes. "Well?" he whispered, eyes focused intently upon me.

"I don't know," I managed. "What do you think?"

"I think… that I've been a bit foolish to wait so long to ask."

"You hesitated for me."

"When you told me not to worry about you, that you would be with me."

"Which you knew was to comfort you."

"So you didn't mean it?" he asked, humor glinting in his eyes.

"Of course I did," I frowned. "And I do. I will go with you, willingly. But I can't say I won't look back until I've stood on the shores, until the longing has risen in me. Even when it has, when we cross, are there… I will likely miss the wood, the halls… things I've known here that simply are not there, and never can be. You can't tell me you won't do the same."

"I know I will," he agreed softly, kissing my forehead. "And the will to be here will remain until Father has crossed to join us." He smiled gently, shifting his hold on my cheek until his thumb could arch from chin to throat and back again. "But we're a bit off subject here."

"Are we?"

"Mm-hmm. After all, I was asking if you would take up the burden of a title."

"Is it so much a burden when it's shared?" I asked softly, hearing his heart was beating almost as quickly as mine.

"It hasn't been," he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine. "Well, love?"

For a moment stolen from time I gazed up at him, watching his bright eyes. The love they shown with was overwhelming, but what touched me most was the lack of worry. I smiled, reaching up to cup his face in my hands, stroking my thumbs beneath his eyes. "You know I will… as you know you shall have to help me, as the years have not done much to turn me into a lady."

He smiled faintly, but shook his head. "Sorry, my love, but you will not be a lady. You'll be a princess… and you are quite fitting for the role." With that said he dipped his head… and by the time my thoughts were pulled together enough to speak once more, the day's weariness had caught up with me, tempting me to slip into them untroubled. The last thing I was aware of was a gentle kiss to my forehead and being held close to familiar warmth.