Ok we got another chapter up my homework still isn't done and I want to change my riding lesson because I am too ahead of the other girls and am paying to the easy stuff...except I still can't do a flying lead change and they can...well, I think I can now...anyways, at my lesson my instructor said potsing trot no stirrups twice around (and for anyone who doesn't know what that is, its a pain in the butt, especially for someone like me with an a really bad back from an awful riding accident a few years back, so sitting trot no stirrups no problem just posting) so then she said anyone over thirty only had to do one lap so I tried telling her that I wasn't 18, I am really 1818 and I am really good looking for my age cause I'm a wild elf...safe to say she didn't buy it, but she did like my leg position! Basically, the world just doesn't believe in elves...but they do exist, they do! See, this story is all about elves! Oh, and obviously I still don't own...um, anything!

What is He Thinking?

She felt strangely comforted when she awoke, a mere forty-five minutes later, to find an arm around her shoulder and someone gently stroking her hair.

"Feel better?" She lifted her head to at the sound of the voice to find Legolas sitting next to her on the floor. She nodded her head, slightly embarrassed.

"Banethiel said you gave her a bit of a scare earlier today, everything ok now?" he was acting like her father, and she felt rather stupid. And somehow, he was making her feel guilty about what she did.

"Yeah, I, um…sorry about that. I didn't, I don't know…" she smiled stupidly at him, as if to excuse herself. "I'm cranky in the morning?" she offered.

"At half past the twelfth hour?" he asked with a grin.

"Um…" they both began to laugh.

"But you are ok now?" he asked, the smile already gone from his lips.

"Yes I am fine. How long have you been sitting there?" she hoped he hadn't seen her having one of her fits again. She sighed silently to herself when he said only about fifteen minutes. He stood and offered her a hand up. She was about to refuse it when he added that his father wanted to see her. She grabbed his hand and jumped to her feet. "Your father. The king?"

"Yes my father the king."

"He wants to see me?"

"Yes he wants to see you." He cut her off before she could say anything else though. "Get dressed," he said, motioning to the bed where her clothes, her very own, were folded neatly on the end, "and meet me outside your door in no more than fifteen minutes. You got that? Ok." He stepped out side of her room with out another word.

The King! The king, the king, the king! Maybe I can talk some sense into him! Perhaps he will let me leave. With these thoughts in mind she threw on her clothes, smoothed her hair out, and was walking out the door in less than five minutes. The guards gave her a funny look, but said nothing. Legolas, who seemed amazed a woman could get ready so fast, had his eyebrows slightly arched as she walked through the door. He quickly masked his amazement however she did notice his eyes wander to the hole in her shirt where he stabbed her that someone had patched up rather poorly. He realized that she saw him and quickly looked away before anything could be made out of it.

As soon as her attention was else where though, he looked back at her, this time to admire her clothes, not disapproving the bit of patchwork. I wonder where she got her shirt from. Its style suits her well. It fits her very well. He thought, his eyes wandering from the open neck to the loose fit on her hips, and everywhere in between. He quickly remembered his place again and yelled at himself for having looked where he shouldn't have, though secretly pining for more. As they walked down the hall together towards his father's library, he thought once again how nice her shirt looked with her smooth complexion and dark hair, a perfect contrast to her radiant dark blue eyes.

And eyes are much more than, well eyes. He thought, remembering the way they looked when he had challenged her in the woods. They looked like they were on fire, as if I could see the very soul of her going up in flames, for merely disturbing her…well, that and shooting at her. The very thought of those eyes brought back such memory, even though it had happened but a few days ago, and he almost shuttered when he remembered the hate she held within those dark blue pools, hate he never thought such a woman, or even man could have.

She is actually very emotional. Her face shows nothing, yet her eyes tell everything. She is not one to wear her heart on her sleeve, she would never want people to know how she feels, I can tell that already. But her eyes, her eyes give it all away. He stole a glance up at her; her face was set like a stone, yet her eyes shined. She was happy, hopeful about something. She wants to leave, he remembered. She thinks she is leaving. She looks so hopeful, so contrary to moments ago when she awoke, or when she had been, how to describe it, crying? No, more of a wailing.

He thought back to that horrible noise drifting from her room yesterday, the one that sounded like a dieing animal. He remembered those eyes when she looked up at him. Eyes that said she might as well be dieing, those eyes that cut through him, made him want to die to. Of course he was being too rash; he would never let a woman have such control over him, and yet, now she looked so happy, he knew she was. He wanted to see those eyes lit up like that forever. And even more, he wanted to see her smile, her real smile. Not some fake forced one. He longed for her smile, without even realizing it.

But his thoughts could no longer dwell on that right now, whether he knew he was thinking about her or not, because they had come to his father's study, and there would be much to discuss. Much more… important things. He knocked on the door and awaited his father's response to allow them entry. He slowly pushed the door open with out a sound and stepped in, motioning for Eriathwen to do the same.

Eriathwen's first thoughts when she saw his father were now I know where he gets his looks from. Followed by I hope this isn't where he got his charm though, otherwise I'm in trouble. Thranduil was almost a replica of Legolas, only slightly older looking, and if possible, wiser, or at least he looked to be. The wisdom of his age was held in his eyes, and he walked with the grace of time. She immediately had a respect for him unlike that which she had for any other elf, but then again, she didn't respect anyone. She stood, arms behind her back, and waited; waited for something, anything to happen. I wish I knew what he was thinking. I wonder what is going to happen…

Thranduil spoke before she could finish her train thought though, so she really needn't wonder any more really. He had had his eyes fixated on Eriathwen from the second she had entered and she was uncomfortable to be under his stare for so long. So uncomfortable, that she was relieved when he final said "Welcome Eriathwen. Have a seat, will you?"

That's it? She thought as she sat down. But then things began to progress quickly and she soon found her self under a pile of questions that were thrown directly at her full force; questions that she would rather have left unanswered. Questions such as where she was from, and why she was here, and she couldn't simply state 'to visit' she had to give detailed response to all of them, especially, well, especially for all of them.

She had answered all the questions pretty straight forward and he did not believe her to be lying, it was just that she seemed to be holding back something, he just knew it. But what? That was the real question, and it wasn't one that he could just come out and ask straight forward either.

"Now tell me again, and not just 'to see Mirkwood and its elves, and their way of life', what are you doing here? What really brought you to Mirkwood?" she knew she was sunk. There was no way of getting around it, even if she wasn't sure what the 'it' was. She had to say something, and it might as well be the truth, but how? How do you explain something like this? How would one start. But she had to try, so she gave it another go, this tome with more depth.

But she just couldn't do it. She didn't know what to say, and that is what she told him, she didn't know if there even was more to it. His response nearly crushed her. It just about killed her to hear those words come from his mouth. Each syllable spoken, another fifty pound weight thrown upon her back as he said, "then you shall just have to stay in your room and think about it won't you?" then, as she sat in her chair, feeling as if her very life had been stripped away from her, he opened a large old book and began rummaging through its pages, not even acknowledging her existence any longer. She was pulled out of her shock/daze when Legolas tapped her on her shoulder and signaled for her to leave. She stood and left, soon followed by Legolas.

She couldn't believe she had to stay in that room even longer. This was the most she had ever stayed indoors. Keeping me in the room still? What was he thinking? She walked back to her room, led by Legolas, her face still set like a stone and an expression as cold as ice. Ice. That was a good description of it; ice that never melted. Legolas walked her into her room, but instead of leaving, he lingered a bit, as if wanting to say something.

"What? What do you want?" she spat. His eyes blazed with anger.

"Your dinner shall arrive shortly." He replied, with next to no patience. He then turned and left without another word.

Eriathwen fell back on her bed in frustration just as the door was pulled shut and latched with a prominent click. She let out an exasperated sigh as she grabbed a pillow and stuffed it over her face. "Why? Why? Why?" Her words muffled as she yelled them into the soft down encased in satin. "Why?"