AN: I'm back! As I promised, the story only gets more interesting from now on! I've been waiting for this chapter for a long time and, I assume, so have you! Again, thank you all for reading this story, I wasn't sure I would even make it past chapter two, and now I'm on sixteen! If not for reviews, I don't think I would have kept up with it.

Well, enough talk, on with it!

Chapter Sixteen:

Current mood: indescribable

Current music: Overlap- Ani Defranco

This can't be real. This night has gone from bad to intolerable, then from utterly frightening to unbelievably…sensual. No, maybe that's not the right word. It's just that…it was so unexpected.

The King and his court listened to Estel's tale of how Mithrandir had him track the pitiful creature, named 'Gollum', and capture him. Even as he told his tale, Gollum sat at his feet glaring death at any who would dare look upon him. After the initial shock and fright that went throughout the assembled guests, they began to look on him with a mixture of pity and yet great disgust. The king listened patiently, motioning at one point to a servant to set a place for the man once he'd finished speaking.

"So you see, sire," he finished, "yours was the closest and safest Kingdom to which he could be brought to and be kept safe until this matter can be more properly dealt with. I ask only that you watch that he does not escape." Thranduil considered the request carefully. He looked beside him to his son, then to his advisor, finally fixing his eyes on the wretched creature kneeling on the floor.

"Very well, Estel," he conceded, "he will stay here under guard, but I should expect Mithrandir to come swiftly to set this matter straight. A dangerous creature such as this can not be left to rot in our dungeon forever."

"I understand, my lord," Estel replied, bowing slightly. Thranduil motioned with his hand and two guards appeared to take Gollum by his 'leash'.

"What shall we do with him, my lord?" The question was directed at Legolas, who considered the matter carefully before replying.

"Take him to the northern dungeon," he commanded. "Give him whatever he requests for a meal and see that he is well guarded."

"If I may, Prince Legolas," Estel interjected. "Gollum is quite slippery to keep hold of," he said shooting a threatening look at the creature beside him, one that was returned in kind. "Whatever windows you have in your cells may be wide enough for him to escape through."

"What do you suggest?"

"Perhaps barring the window, or blocking it altogether. He is not to be trusted to not try and escape, if he can." Legolas stepped down from the table and took hold of Gollum's bonds.

"I will take him," he said, turning to his father behind him. "He will not escape from me." Thranduil nodded his approval and elf and man dragged Gollum out of the hall, with the two guards in tow.

After the doors closed, silence remained in the hall. Most were still too stunned to continue their dinner or whatever conversations they'd been engaged in before the interruption. Even the King seemed too upset and distracted to continue.

Haldir, now with a clear view in Legolas' absence, watched the King's reaction closely. He wondered to himself how he would handle such a situation, were it to happen in the Golden Wood. Before he could take that muse any further, he saw Mirien leave the table, also heading to the exit. He watched her go, a little too closely to be a simple passing glance, until she disappeared through the doors.

At first, he wondered what it was that made her leave. He thought maybe their 'intruders' had disturbed her too much to stay, but he soon discovered this was not so. As he looked over in her parents' direction, he saw that the expression on her father's face was one that could easily curdle new milk. Apparently, they'd been arguing. He had just resolved to go after her when he was engaged in conversation by none other than King Thranduil. It seemed he would be going nowhere.

Later that night, Mirien lay comfortably in her bed. She gazed over at her bedside table to the candle illuminating her room in a soft glow. This particular candle holder was fashioned to look like one of the Silmarils, delicately carved of crystal and white gems. She watched the flame dance and flicker within, all the while letting her thoughts drift far from an admiration of its beauty.

Haldir. Why was it that she could not stop thinking of him? Everywhere she saw his face, heard his voice, and smelled his scent. It was as if he were a virus that had infected her, yet there was no cure. Even while the discussion regarding Gollum took place, her eyes ever strayed in his direction. She found herself staring- tracing the lines of his neck and jaw with her eyes, wondering what it would be like to do the same with her lips.

Even as she'd entered and left the main hall she'd felt his eyes on her. She knew he found her attractive, desired her even. She'd seen it on his face when she'd dared look his way when he had been looking hers. She found herself wondering what would happen if she went to him that night…woke him with her kiss…

The flame of the candle flickered out, casting the room into darkness and startling her out of her fantasy. She had to stop thinking like this, she is still married and she still…cares for Ameron.

Ameron. The thought of her husband caused an unbearable wave of guilt to rise and lodge itself in the pit of her stomach. How would he handle her with another elf? She couldn't do that to him, she decided. After all, he'd never hurt her. And yet-

Images of Haldir came flooding back to her, taunting her, tempting her. Finally, in a moment of weakness, she decided.

She had to see him.

Mirien had learned many things during her time among the fighters in Mirkwood's army. Archery and marksmanship, skill with the blade and physical combat; but one skill above all aided her more than the others- uncanny stealth. It came to be quite useful for soundlessly opening the door to Halidr's room and slipping in as a ghostly wind. Silently she padded barefoot across the floor to the bed that was bathed in soft moon and starlight.

He lay there, half covered in a thin sheet, silver hair fanned out beside him on the soft pillow. She noted with amusement that he took up as much room as physically possible on the double bed, as if he wished to use every inch of space, so that no one part would be jealous of another for having the most contact with his perfect body. Or so she thought to herself.

She fluidly lifted herself onto the desk positioned several feet from the edge of the bed and folded her legs, resting her wrists comfortably on her knees. There she sat, as perfectly still and straight as an ivory carving, shinning in the dim glow. She moved not a muscle, lest she disturb an air molecule and wake the subject of her scrutiny. The only thing save for her soft, gentle breathing, that let on that she was alive at all, was her eyes.

They moved slowly and languidly over the form of the elf lying prone before her on the large four-poster bed. She began with his face, detailing every line and curve, peak and valley, smooth skin and silky hair, and etching them forever in her memory, lest she one day not be able to look upon them. That task done, she allowed her eyes to slowly make their way down his perfect neck, to the toned muscular chest, watching its gentle rise and fall for several moments before following down each arm, hand and finger, and then back up to continue their decent. Once she reached the edge of the sheet at mid-chest level, she stopped, unsure of what to do next. Should she dare try to carefully peel the fabric back and continue her investigations, or should she count herself lucky for what she had and leave before she was discovered?

For minutes she contemplated her choice, but it was long enough for it to be made for her. She saw a muscle in his neck tense and ripple along his chest, indicating that he had raised his head. In the instant it took for her to register this fact and look up to his face, two azure eyes had opened and fixed on hers. There was a long moment when neither of them dared breathe. Both were too shocked to speak- one out of fear and embarrassment, and the other out of confusion and curiosity. Seconds turned into minutes, and still they stared at one another. It was as if they were frozen in time, and to them their whole lives were this moment- nothing came before, nothing will be after; it was perfect. No questions were asked, no judgments were made – loyalty, honor, guilt, duty, emotion, didn't exist. There was only them. They simply were.

Then it was as if he had only blinked and the moment was over so fast he doubted it had in fact, actually happened. Mirien had jumped off the table and raced to the door faster than it took for his still clouded mind to register the fact that she had. Just as she reached for the door handle, he finally was able to react.

"Wait-" he whispered, but by the time the word was out, she was already gone.