Well, here's the update (finally!). Like I mentioned somewhere—can't think where—I've been ill recently, and the meds have made my mind total mush for a while. Didn't even touch a computer for a week. My mother was sure I was going to start going into serious withdrawal until I finally said I was going to check my e-mail… of course, that was merely to make sure I was covered at work, and my professors knew I wasn't going to be around for a while, and I was hoping to hear from my project partners… but all I got were reviews! Hey, it's all good, right? Anyway, I'm back at the key board, and new chapters are on their way!

I've always kind of wondered what Tolkien would have made Thranduil like if  he'd been fleshed out a little more. In The Hobbit he seems sort of greedy and materialistic, which hardly seems appropriate for a high elf—which he must be, as Tolkien says somewhere in the appendix to LOTR that all the elves written about were—which would include Legolas and his sire. I really don't know what to do with him, so he's left a bit more in the background in this story, though I've explored other possibilities elsewhere… and no doubt shall continue to do so, though somehow I can't yet find it in me to write about a mean King Thranduil. Distant, maybe, but not greedy in such a way as it appears to Bilbo and the dwarves… which could admittedly be a rather biased opinion.

To Maybe Tonight: Lunian does love Legolas… of course, she yet believes that love to be of a friend. She's too worried about hurting him to examine things too closely. How about a push or two in the right direction?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lunian rolled the stone in her hand and looked at her reflection. Two days along with elven medicine had made the cuts on her face and arms much less noticeable, but there were still some deeper scrapes that would need a little longer. Her hair was pulled back in the way Arwen had always liked, because it made Lunian feel a little more in place with all of the elves.

She swallowed and looked at the deep green gown Forsetan had left for her. It was nice, but heavier than she was used to wearing. It did keep her warm, though. The palace was cooler than the open rooms of Rivendell, since the sun never quite made it through the rocks to warm the rooms.

A cheerful fire blazed in a small hollow left by painting a cave there. Only once had there been a fire lacking, and she hadn't been in the right sorts to notice if the fireplace was open to Legolas's room or not. She would guess it was, but the flames were too large and bright for her to see around them to find out.

There wasn't a pocket in this gown, because she hadn't had it made with one. The seamstress had begun putting a little pocket in all her dresses in Imladris once she figured out why Lunian kept asking for little bits of material. So, she would have to hold onto her stone, because there was no way she was leaving it behind.

"Are you ready for dinner, Milady?"

She took a deep breath which did nothing but amplify her nerves, and closed her eyes as she released it. Warm arms slid around her waist, and a soft kiss touched her crown. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

He didn't move away, studying their reflection in the mirror instead. His look of satisfaction dwindled as his keen eyes caught the movement of her hand. "Why are you nervous?"

She sighed and clutched the stone for a moment before answering. "Your father is going to be there."

"Yes," he agreed, the frown between his brows saying he still did not understand her nervousness.

"So, how could he possibly like someone who may cause his son's death?"

He closed his eyes, his breath exhaled sharply, warming her ear through her hair. Pulling her closer, he kissed her temple before catching her eyes in the looking glass. "He will like you, merely because I love you. I would be surprised if by the end of the night he failed to understand."

"I don't understand."

"I know you don't," he murmured softly, with a small, almost wistful smile. "But you are yet young. My father has seen ages of elves on Middle-Earth. His wisdom is beyond any I can claim for myself."

Now she was daunted. Legolas was one of the wisest beings she knew—probably because of the harsher, more demanding life he'd had to live as a prince among wood-elves than other elves his age—right up there with Elrohir and Elrond. Elrohir she grouped with them out of fondness more than anything else, but knowing her bias and changing her opinion were unrelated events. Yet Legolas claimed Thranduil was beyond him.

Elrond was not exactly thrilled with Aragorn as a husband for Arwen, and once Lunian understood the light in Legolas, she had seen the same look bestowed upon Legolas as he had previously only granted Arwen. Sorrowful, guilty. As if there might have been something he could have done.

"Let's just get it over with," she finally decided, turning slightly to look at him.

He smiled and kissed her forehead before leading her to the hall. He took her hand after she closed her door, linking their fingers. "You have nothing to fear from my father, my love."

She closed her eyes, still a bit uncertain about allowing him to call her his love, but she could not deny he loved her, so she remained silent. She tensed more as the sound of conversation became apparent from the room Legolas was leading her to. Part of the tension eased out of her when she found only five elves in the room, with extra room for only her and Legolas set for the meal.

At the same time, though glad she would be stared at by fewer elves, it made it much more likely those few would voice their opinions. Also, Thranduil would less likely hold his tongue in his displeasure of her. All rose as they entered, slowly turning to face them. She saw shock and interest in all eyes, except those of the oldest looking elf there. Thranduil himself, no doubt, since he was seated at the head of the table.

"I am pleased you felt well enough to join us this evening, Lunian," he murmured, bowing his head slightly at her.

She bowed her head as she curtsied slightly, one hand still held by Legolas's hand, the other clenched around the stone that grew slick with sweat. "I have been waiting to thank you for allowing me a place among the elves once more. From the bottom of my heart I thank you for your kindness, my lord." Only when she had finished did she look up, surprised to see amusement in his eyes, though his face remained stony.

"It was in the interest of Mirkwood to have you here, Lunian." He motioned with his hand at the free places, and Legolas led her around, letting go of her hand only to seat himself after seating her.

"If I may ask, how can that be?"

Thranduil lifted a brow and looked at his son. Legolas looked levelly back at him for a moment, something challenging in the instant before the king broke the contact to look at her. "Has Legolas not told you?"

"I don't believe so," she murmured, frowning at the prince in question. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, brushing a soft kiss over her knuckles.

"Do you not know you have captured my son's heart? Condemned him to die?"

She lowered her eyes from all the elves, staring instead at the glass before her. "That I knew, too well. I did not understand what was happening until it was too late." She looked at the king after a moment, letting him see her sincerity. "If I had seen what I found later everyone else had, I would have done anything I could to stop it."

"What could you have done?" Thranduil asked. "Legolas saw what was happening and did nothing."

"He was willing to risk loosing his life to a broken heart." She took a deep breath, knowing Legolas was not going to like what she was going to say, trying to brace herself to withstand the shift of his emotions. "If I had known what I would end up doing to him, I would have taken the only step possible myself."

"The only way to stop true love is—"

She interrupted, not wanting him to spell it out. She wanted to be done with this conversation as quickly as possible. "For one of the two to die before they are too entwined." She shrugged, ignoring the shock radiating from Legolas, running up her arm in tingles of pain as his grip tightened uncomfortably. "I would have gladly given my mortal life so he could continue his immortal one." She flipped the stone about in her hand after making her declaration, her eyes falling to it after a moment. When she first realized it, she had contemplated doing it anyway. She had been wearing the dagger Arwen had given her. Or, since she was high up in a tree, she could have run out of it. Only the thought of what it could do to Legolas had stopped her. Somewhere in her suddenly clear but still confused mind she had realized it was too late for such measures.

Thranduil watched the motion of her free hand, took in the white knuckled grip Legolas had on her other hand. Mortals were so interesting to watch, much like elven children. Their emotions were so quickly expressed on their faces. Lunian was truthful in her claim, and he would bet she had come close to carrying out the prevention. He also would bet he knew what had stopped her. She cared about Legolas deeply, and even if it was not the love Legolas clearly felt for her, it was something.

Deciding to watch her a bit longer, he continued in the path he had intended to pursue initially. "Death has nearly collected from him several times in the last years."

Her eyes flew to his, shock radiating out from her, the interesting gold of her eyes being lost as her pupils dilated. "What?"

"So he did not tell you," he mused, feeling the glare Legolas sent his way without letting his eyes wander to his son. "When apart from you he begins to fade." Every time he came back from visiting Imladris, Legolas was energetic, happy, even if there was a slight cloud covering his bright eyes. After a while, sometimes just a few weeks, others up to a few months, the cloud covered all the brightness, and his energy began to wane. That was when Thranduil would send him back to Imladris. Just the idea of going was enough to bring some life back into Legolas.

Now the girl paled, making the small marks that remained on her face stand out clearly. Her right hand closed tightly around whatever was in her hand, her left suddenly ripped away from Legolas's. "Excuse me, my lord," she whispered, her eyes dark and alarmingly frightened as she got unsteadily to her feet. When Legolas started to rise, she put a hand on his shoulder, pressing him back down. "No," she murmured, the tone a nearly hissed command. Her fingers tightened on his shoulder for an instant before she strode quickly from the room. Before she had taken three steps out of the room, her footsteps changed to a run, carrying all hints of her quickly away.

Legolas started to get up again.

"No. Stay here for now," Thranduil murmured, his thoughts following the girl. He could see how Legolas had come to fall in love with her. She obviously had a caring spirit, and Legolas had mentioned once that she could feel emotions from those around her, especially if touching. That he had been skeptical of, until he saw her cringe when Legolas's emotions swung to anger as he clenched her hand. She had pulled away from Legolas as if injured when he mentioned his son began to fade when he was not with her. "You never told her?"

If looks could kill… "No, I never told her." Legolas's reply was nothing short of a snap.

"Why not?"

"She has had a hard enough time accepting this isn't going to go away. The hope she has been clinging to is that when she dies, I will continue to live without her. You just shattered that." Legolas's lips were pursed tightly, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked at the door she had walked through before breaking into a run.

Thranduil smiled slightly and leaned back in his chair. This could get interesting for a few days. Then it would be resolved, and his fun would end. Hopefully, he couldn't help but think, their misery would end at the same time. "Give her at least until after the meal before you go to her, son."