Updated 5-11-22. This was always one of the chapters I didn't like much, so I rewrote it pretty thoroughly and it's much better now.

Sky liked the sea, but she wouldn't say she was drawn to it, really. It was exciting and beautiful with all its waves and creatures and deep blueness, but she didn't feel the pull that so many elves did when they looked out at the endless water. Storm was the same way; when the two of them had first gone to see the new end of their world more than a half-millennium ago, just after the titanic battle they'd heard about from the dwarves and humans and a little while before the Sindar came to Greenwood, they'd been ready to feel the urge to sail that they were supposed to get. But they'd only felt curiosity.

The elf she'd come here to find, though, did see something special in the ocean, which was why he took time off from his very important (everyone else's description, not hers) job as often as he could to visit it. That's what he'd done during the years she'd spent here in his kingdom when she was young, anyway.

. . . . . .

"No, really," Storm insisted, his most innocent smile plastered on his face. "Ambassadors from Greenwood."

"And I'm a Vala," the guard said dryly. He was a Noldo, like many of the elves around here—one of the first Sky had ever seen close-up.

Storm folded his arms indignantly. "Look, can we see the king or not?"

Sky wondered why kings had so many rules about who they could talk to.

"I already told you how to request an appointment, though I also suggest—" He wrinkled his nose. "—finding something more appropriate to wear before you try. Now get out."

Sky would've rather slipped past him, but when she tried, the guard and his three companions leveled their spears at her.

"OUT," the first guard demanded.

"Sheesh, take a vacation sometime," she told him. Storm smirked, but towed his sister out of the hall before she could be impaled.

Soon they were out in the open air again, where they could hear the lapping of waves on the beach. "Plan B?" Sky asked.

"Plan B it is."

. . . . . .

High King Gil-Galad of the Noldor (and many Sindar, as it happened) stood on his balcony, gazing alternately at the stars and the sea. It was peaceful out here, with the wind teasing his hair and the sounds and smells of the ocean from below. He was new to this king business, and he found it was important to have a few minutes to himself at the end of each day, to take off his crown and relax and finally be alone. He closed his eyes and basked in the sensations of the night, reflecting that, despite all of Valinor's advantages, Middle-Earth was a nice place too.

He stayed there awhile before returning inside and shrugging off his heavy outer robe, planning to get to bed. He was alone; Noldor royals were traditionally expected to rely more on their families than their servants, and although Gil-Galad didn't have much in the way of family—not even a wife—he didn't mind being on his own in the mornings and late evenings.

Click.

The Noldo jolted out of his thoughts at the noise, which seemed loud in the silent room. Had that come from the balcony?

Click... click.

Squeeeeeeeeeeeak.

Someone was breaking in, and trying to be stealthy about it. Assassins? He hadn't had any yet, but many Sindar still held grudges over the atrocities committed by his extended family... He snatched his trusty spear, Aeglos, from its place on the wall. It wasn't an ideal weapon in close quarters, but he trusted it more than his ceremonial sword, which was in the other room anyway.

He poked the tip of the spear around the corner, then leapt through and brought his weapon to bear in a practiced maneuver. There was no one there, but he thought he saw the flicker of a shadow... He slunk forward to the next arch-shaped doorway, and lunged around it, pinning one of the shadowy forms to the wall with his speartip. It yelped, and the other cloaked figure drew a blade—a shortsword. In response, Gil-Galad pressed harder with his spear, and the second figure held up its hands in surrender, dropping the sword. Gil-Galad motioned to a window behind it—him?—and the figure nodded and pulled the curtains back, letting moonlight spill into the room.

The first figure slowly reached up and flipped back his hood. He was a Sinda—or was he? No, the High King realized, Silvan. Or at least, the clothing looked like that of the few Silvan elves he'd met, although it was hard to tell which he looked like without more light. Gil-Galad backed away a step from the other intruder, which also removed its hood.

He thought she was Vanya at first. It was something about the large eyes and the proportions of the face, but after his involuntary jump, he remembered there were no full Vanya in Middle-Earth, as far as he knew, anyway. Her hair was too dark, too—even deep gold would have looked lighter in the moonlight. And even in the dark, he thought he saw a glint of bright green, not blue, in her eyes.

She grinned guiltily. "Hi."

. . . . . .

"You still have not told me why you are in my home," Gil-Galad reminded his visitors a few minutes later, when they were in a candlelit room and the two intruders had promised many times not to kill him, along with explaining who they were and why they were here (which, it seemed, was mostly curiosity). He wasn't sure why he believed them, but he usually found he could trust his gut on these things.

The she-elf, who hadn't stopped moving since he took his spear from her throat, answered without pausing in her investigation of his furnishings. "Your guards wouldn't let us in." Her coloring, he could see now that the lighting was better, was as exotic as her features. She'd introduced herself as Sky, or Eithryn; he'd resolved to call her Skyfire. It seemed to fit best with what he knew about her so far. Fearless, energetic, and adventurous.

Her brother—Stormfire—was seated in the chair opposite Gil-Galad, watching him with wary and curious eyes. It was because of this one that Gil-Galad kept one hand on Aeglos. "They seemed to think we were troublemakers, for some reason," Stormfire noted. "Can't imagine why."

"So we decided to sneak in," said Skyfire.

Gil-Galad tried to hide how caught off-guard these two made him feel, which, luckily, he had a lot of practice with. "I see." He looked back and forth between them, then laughed. "Well. Stranger things have happened."

The two Silvans hadn't been expecting this, it seemed. "You're not mad?" she confirmed.

He smiled charmingly. "I might be a little too interested in where this will go." Maybe a certain kind of interested, too, but it was too early to say. Maybe he could get her—them—to stay for a while?

"One more thing before we leave you alone for the night," Stormfire said.

Skyfire looked disappointed, which pleased the Noldo.

"It's polite to let your host sleep, Sky. Now: I've heard a lot of names for you. Which one should we use? Gil-Galad? Ereinion? Artanáro?"

"Whichever," Gil-Galad said with an indifferent shrug. Elves liked to give him names, and he usually just went with them.

"Ereinion it is."

"I'm calling him Gil," Skyfire declared.

Gil? Like the Common word "gill"? Oh... all right. He could put up with that. He also noticed there was no "King" in front of that "Gil", but that was fine; his friends didn't have to call him by any titles.

And he did hope these two would be friends.

. . . . . .

Sky spotted him on one of the wooden docks, gazing out at the fading sunset, and—in her usual way—ran up and tackled him, or would have if he'd been closer to her size. "GIL!"

He cried out in alarm, but the sound turned into laughter when he realized who she was. "Skyfire! You frightened me half to death—to use a human saying—but it's so good to see you." He separated them so he could see her properly. "New sword. And you are braiding your hair differently—I like it."

She'd been playing with her hair out of boredom on the trip here, and found a new style she liked—a fancy braid that pulled her hair around to the left and which looked very pretty, she thought from checking it in pools she'd come across. She definitely wasn't hoping someone in particular would agree. "I wanted to try something new. How's everything?"
"Oh, the same as always—but things have changed for you, yes? How is the new kingdom?" The last time he'd seen her had been less than a decade after the coming of the Sindar, right before Greenwood accepted its king.

She groaned. "I've had my hands full; they've been trying to turn us into miniature tree-dwelling versions of themselves."

"I believe it," he said, shaking his head. "You should see the letters Oropher sends me—I can't imagine what I have done to offend him so badly. Is his son any different? Thranduil, am I right?"

Sky silently cursed the flow of conversation for bringing up the prince, whom she was trying to forget. "That's his name, yes. And he's exactly as arrogant and stubborn as his father. Always worrying about rules and rank, and he hates dwarves. He'd make an awful king."

Gil-Galad considered her silently. He knew her well, and under her annoyance, he was picking up on something else, an affection which didn't match her words. "You like him," he realized in amazement.

Sky grimaced. Yes, she liked him... but not that much, right? This dilemma was why she'd decided to take off and not come back until her feelings shut up and behaved. Ack, why did she feel unhappy about that? She disguised her emotions with more joking. "Are you crazy? I can't stand him! He thinks he's the center of the universe!"

Gil-Galad was flabbergasted. So she had finally fallen for an elf of royal blood—not just that, but one who'd laid claim to her home against her will, according to the letters she'd sent with the new delegations from Greenwood. "I must meet this prince," he managed.

She ignored him. "Y'know, when I told him I was coming here, he handed me a paper saying I 'in no way represent Greenwood, and King Oropher and Prince Thranduil are sorry to send me to you, but they simply cannot stand me anymore, and they sincerely hope you will not start a war over it...' I threw it in the river." She realized she was giggling and forced herself to look annoyed again.

The Noldo couldn't take this seriously anymore. "And a sense of humor, too. Well now, Skyfire." He was happy for her—really, he was. He'd resolved his feelings for her soon after that ill-fated attempt at a kiss, and he'd hoped for a while that she'd find someone. He wondered what Stormfire thought of all this.

"Mph."

He snickered a few times, then kindly changed the subject. "Ah, I really did miss you. Say, I had a question I would have liked to ask you, if you were here... What was it? Ah, yes—Do you ever wonder what it is like to be mortal, as the humans are?"

"All the time." She paused. "I think everything would seem way more urgent, and I'd be way more careful what I did, since I wouldn't end up in Valinor if something happened to me."

He burst out laughing again. "I had never imagined you in Valinor before," he explained in response to her bemusement. "So much for its peace!"

She grinned. "Do you think they'd let me come back if I annoy them enough?"

"It has worked before. Come, I have things to show you." He led her away from the water.

"What's been making you wonder about mortals?" Sky wondered as they walked.

"Oh, my dealings with the humans. They are so much like us, and yet sometimes I wonder what goes on in their minds. A decade ago, for instance..."

That was what Oropher needed, Sky decided—to care enough about others to wonder what they were thinking. That was what made Gil-Galad such a great king; the only king, in fact, who wouldn't have had to put up with her—ahem—"lessons" if he were the ruler of Greenwood.

She'd have to invite him to visit sometime.