disclaimer: don't own anything you recognize (wish i did ) everything else is mine. don't sue me.

The sun slowly started to set behind the tops of the trees as Legolas and Linilya reached the stables again. Linilya was half asleep, leaning comfortably into Legolas's chest. His strong arms supported her, and he smiled, feeling her against him. She yawned tiredly and moved to rest her head on his shoulder. She had purely enjoyed her day with Legolas.

He had shown her the entire grounds, followed by a brief tour of the forest circles in the Wood. She'd viewed the rivers and streams and the beautiful trees. All of the buildings and structures were explained to her, and Legolas had her talking to several people along the way. He never once lost his patience when she told him she didn't remember, nor did he push her to think too much about it. She had been introduced to her horse at the stables and had played with Legolas and the children in the village outside the palace. Finally, Legolas had taken her to the gardens.

Lush green grass carpeted the floor and roses grew rampantly. Legolas's mother had planted and taken care of the gardens while she was alive. A small wooden swing and bench stood in the center of the garden, overlooking a beautiful fountain with a statue of the Queen Leniia in the middle. Legolas had explained the importance of the area to her. The bench had been where Thranduil had proposed to Leniia, and in all tradition, Legolas had proposed to her there as well. He enlightened her as to the many memories that they shared in the gardens.

Linilya took pleasure in being able to spend the day with Legolas. She had grown closer to him in many ways. The horseback riding had probably been her favorite part. It was so relaxing and pleasant to feel the wind rushing in her face. But now, she was exhausted. She felt her back come in contact with his chest and she smiled, feeling the hard, powerful muscle that lay beneath his tunic. She had always seen Legolas as being handsome, but had never acted upon her thoughts.

"Are you tired, Lena?" he asked softly.

"Yes, extremely. I could sleep for a month."

"You've already managed that," he teased.

"Shut up," she mumbled, letting her eyes close. She quickly fell into a deep sleep, resting against the Elf behind her.

Legolas smiled, resting his chin gently on her shoulder. Just to feel her against him again was enough. He'd missed her so much. He'd been worried sick when she'd disappeared. And then, once she'd been found, he worried even more. He truly feared that she would die. If she had, he would have soon followed suit. Grief would have claimed him and his heart would have broken. That kind of death was slow and painful and it was one he wished not to experience.

He had been elated when he was informed that she had awakened. Legolas had rushed right to her room. Malia had informed him that her memory might have taken a blow, but he hadn't expected this. Elenayave didn't even know who he was, or where she was from. She remembered nothing of her previous life in Middle Earth. It pained him to see her recoil from him when he had done nothing to earn her distrust. But he clung to the faith that her memory would be restored and their love rekindled. Until then, he would have to help her adjust again. And perhaps, just maybe, he could win her heart again.

Elenayave stood before her father, rigid with defiance. Her curly red locks tumbled down her back and her vivid green eyes flashed with rage. Her jaw was set in insolence and her arms were crossed.

"I will not attend any such thing! That is completely ridiculous, Ada!"

"Aye, daughter. You will. You have no choice in this matter. You will attend the ball this evening at the palace. All eligible maidens are invited."

"Of course! To find a wife for the Prince! That is not what I wish to be!"

"Do you even know the boy, Elenayave?" Arcollo asked pointedly. The tall Elf was a well known archer in Imladris. He possessed remarkable blue eyes and long straight blond hair. His muscular build clearly indicated his warrior status. The Elf was with his lord, Elrond, visiting the realm of Mirkwood.

"Do I need to? Must I know him to know that he is an arrogant, stuck-up, conceited, selfish snob of a prince?"

"Watch your tongue, young lady! I will not hear that from your lips again! Now get dressed in the gown I had made for you. You are going if I have to drag you there myself. And you will be polite and decent when you meet the King and his son. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Ada," Elenayave mumbled, sighing. She knew she was not going to win this battle. They had had these arguments for years. Elenayave was more worried about her knives being sharp than finding a mate or dancing with a prince.

She resignedly dressed and combed her hair, fitting small flowers into it as she went. Her gown was a beautiful sea green silk. There were no sleeves, but instead, the material billowed out just below her shoulders. It was a smooth, slender gown, riding along the generous curves of her body. The neckline came to an abrupt halt right above her chest, exposing the slightest amount of cleavage. It was a gorgeous evening dress, but she would never mention it to her father.

Her father led her to the Great Hall in the palace's largest cavern. He escorted her down the stairs and then left her to her own devices. Many people turned and stared at her, admiring her beauty and grace. Elenayave was ethereal, giving off a light glow in her presence. She looked around taking in the copious hall.

Elves were dancing merrily in several places in the room. Others were talking quietly in their little groups. Some were singing and some were playing instruments. It was well lit with hundreds of torches on the walls and a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Tables with drinks were all around and everyone was having a good time.

Elenayave noticed a small balcony leading off to a terrace on the far side of the room. She decided it would be a good place to attain some peace and quiet. She made for the balcony, stopping every so often to utter a greeting or offer a negative response when asked for a dance. The people seemed friendly, but it bothered her that so many watched her every move.

She finally reached the balcony and pushed the light curtain aside to step out into the fresh air. The wind blew gently onto her flushed skin and her hair softly swirled in the breeze. Her eyes closed, her body enjoying the feeling. When they opened, she found someone to be standing at the other end of the balcony.

He was tall, a head higher than she at least, and possessed long blond hair. His angular features were set in a look of frustration and melancholy as he stared out into the dark. His eyes were a wild, piercing blue and he had a strong jaw and high cheekbones. His body was slender and lithe, though muscular from years of training with the guard. The man wore a white and silver tunic with silver leggings and a pair of boots. He gripped the railing tightly, as if to steady himself.

"Are you well, sir?" she questioned, half expecting him to be wasted.

"Aye, my lady. I'm fine," he replied, his melodic voice floating to her ears. "I'm just trying to avoid the confusion and chaos inside."

"Join the club," she said, joining him at the railing.

He laughed, a beautiful sound to her ears. "I take it that you're not enjoying yourself?"

"Nay, good sir. Not at all. If I had it my way, I would be in the woods among the trees and animals."

The man's smile disappeared and a frown spread slowly over his features. "Not in these woods, lady. The Shadow has grown to dark for my liking."

"I agree," Elenayave replied, her face grim. "The Dark Lord has worn out his welcome in our realms."

The man nodded and smiled again. "I don't believe I know your name, my lady. May I ask?"

"Elenayave, good sir. And yours?"

"Legolas Thr…just Legolas," he answered. "Your reason for being here is the ball I suppose."

"Of course. My father made such a big deal about it. I made it quite clear I did not want to marry an arrogant, selfish prince. What little good it did."

Legolas quirked his brow. "Arrogant and selfish? I don't think so."

"Do you know him?" Elenayave asked, worried she'd said the wrong thing to the wrong person.

"Aye, quite well. He is a good friend of mine. Known him since I was a child."

"I hope I didn't offend you then, my lord."

"Nay, not at all. In fact, it's refreshing to meet someone who is not fawning over him twenty four hours a day," Legolas laughed, lifting her chin in his hand to meet his gaze. "I'm sure the Prince can appear to be selfish and arrogant, but he's not. Truth be told, he'd rather be out in the woods merry making or hunting, than be stuck in here looking for a wife."

"What is he like? This Prince of Mirkwood?" Elenayave questioned of him.

"Well, he is rather tall and lithe. He is the best archer in all of Mirkwood, mind you. His hair is of deepest gold and his eyes a crystal blue. Not many people can stand long under his gaze. He is stern and unyielding in his decisions, though kind and gentle-hearted in his thoughts. His father says he will make a fine king some day," Legolas added the last part with a hint of melancholy.

"Why the sadness, my lord? Do you not agree?"

"The Prince wishes not to be the King. He wishes to be free of responsibility and duty. He yearns for adventure and excitement, and finds none in the political arena of life. His heart desires liberty and love, though he knows not where to find it. He shows no interest in women here. They are all vapid and shallow and care only for his title and crown."

His words were spoken with such vehemence that Elenayave was taken aback. There was so much emotion, so much passion in his statement, it was almost as if he knew exactly what the Prince was feeling. Though, Elenayave did have qualms about something.

"I have heard that he takes a different woman to bed every night. How can this be so if he shows no interest?"

Legolas met her gaze evenly. His brow was furrowed and a small frown tugged at his lips. "The Prince longs for stability and security in his life. When his mother first died, it was worse. He lusted after many, though it never meant anything. That ended long ago."

Finality rung through his words, so Elenayave dropped the topic. She started a new conversation. "And what of you, sir? Surely you have wed."

Legolas smiled. "Nay, lady. There is no one."

Elenayave quirked her brow and grinned. "How odd," she commented.

"Don't make fun, Lady Elenayave. You are not wed either, if my ears did not deceive me earlier this day."

"I believe myself to be far younger than you, my lord. I have reason to be unwed."

"I agree," Legolas replied smiling. "But if you think harder, you will see that I have reason to be unwed as well."

"And that would be…?" Elenayave questioned.

"One, I spend most of my time in the guard on patrol. Two, when I'm not on guard, I'm at archery practice. Three, if neither one of those are suitable, I spend half my life in my father's chambers learning etiquette and politics."

"Why?"

Legolas knew he had said too much. His mind raced to come up with a quick fix to the conversation. "He's in league with the King, I swear it."

Elenayave giggled at the expression on his face and the tone of voice he used. "Is that so? How can you tell?"

"Every time the King brings up something about marriage, my father seems to think it's a good time to attack me as well."

Elenayave smiled again. "My father has been attempting to set me up with Elrohir or Elladan. Lord Elrond seems to think it amusing."

"Ah, the twins. I know them well. Trouble makers, those two. Always fooling around. Especially with the Prince. They make quite a trio, I daresay."

"So I've heard," Elenayave laughed.

"My lord," a voice interrupted. Another elf appeared on the balcony, dressed in green and gold. He had a regal appearance about him, and he held himself in poised grace. "Your father wishes to speak with you, my lord."

"For what, Galion? I just spoke with him ere the ball started," Legolas stated, slightly annoyed that his conversation had been suspended.

"Your high…" Galion stopped abruptly when Legolas shot him a glare. "My lord, I do not know of what your father wishes to speak. I was just sent to obtain you."

"You should probably go anyway, Legolas," Elenayave whispered. "Don't get yourself in trouble."

Galion's eyes widened in shock as he heard her informal use of his name. Did she not know to whom she spoke? He was about to say something when Legolas replied.

"You're right. I shouldn't risk it should I?"

Elenayave shook her head emphatically and smiled. Legolas grinned and took her hand, pressing a soft, gentle kiss on its back. His eyes met hers for a brief moment, and Elenayave shivered under his scrutiny.

"Good evening, my beautiful lady," he said softly.

"Good evening, my lord," she answered, almost inaudibly.

With that, Legolas turned and followed Galion off the balcony, into the commotion that lay inside.

"Elenayave?" she heard her father call out.

"Yes, Ada?" she sighed, knowing what was probably going to happen next. She turned and saw her father standing in the door way to the balcony. He watched her intently and quirked his brow at her boredom.

"You are to meet King Thranduil and his son, child. Come in and make yourself presentable."

"I am presentable," she mumbled unhappily.

Arcollo took her by the arm and led her back into the ballroom. He seemed to have a particular destination in mind, so Elenayave didn't see the use in protesting. She'd probably end up there anyway. And once she met the Prince, she'd probably be forced to dance with him. She sighed again, knowing now how Legolas must feel.

They approached someone from behind. Arcollo cleared his throat.

"My lord?"

The man turned around and smiled warmly at Elenayave. "I see you've found your daughter, mellon."

"Aye, your Majesty. On the balcony."

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you at last, Lady Elenayave. I've heard much about you from your father and Lord Elrond."

Elenayave smiled weakly and bowed her head in respect and acknowledgement. She managed a curtsy and gave her hand to him. He took it graciously and kissed it.

"The pleasure is mine, King Thranduil."

He met her gaze dubiously and cocked his head. She offered a slight shake of her head, and he smiled. Elenayave studied him, noting the remarkable similarities between him and Legolas. It was almost scary.

Thranduil possessed long, silky blond hair, also displayed in a plaited fashion, and piercing blue eyes. His features were more pointed and his cheekbones a little lower set, but the resemblance was uncanny. She wondered if somehow, they were related. He wore a long green robe with intricate gold stitching and embroidery. A golden circlet sat atop his regal head with tiny leaves and wildflowers intertwined.

"I don't believe you've met my son before, Elenayave," Thranduil said, looking around. "Maybe once I find him, you will have the pleasure of being introduced."

Elenayave glanced at her father, who shook his head and frowned. He would see that this meeting went through.

"Ah, there he is! Legolas! Come here, boy! There is someone I wish for you to meet."

Elenayave froze. She thought she must have heard things. Or maybe Thranduil had just called his son Legolas. A young elf stepped up next to his father and sighed.

"What is it, Ada? Another woman you wish to have me wed?" She was sure she'd heard that voice before.

"It is merely an introduction, my son. Now, be polite for at least two minutes, please."

The elf turned and stood before Arcollo and Elenayave. Elenayave's eyes widened and she gasped. He was standing in front of her, his mouth open and his eyes wide with shock.

"Legolas?"