Chapter 1

Confluence

Mirkwood, a wide expanse of trees, spiders, rivers and elves, sits between the Misty Mountains and the Iron Hills as part of the Wilderland. In its north most corner, where the Forest River and Enchanted River confluence are the Elven King's Halls where the Great King Thranduil and his only son, Prince Legolas, ruled over the wood-elves.

Amrun, morning, in Mirkwood was like watching summer turn into autumn, as the deep green leaves of the trees turned to a violent orange under the rising, panoptic sun. The air was fresher as though it awoke with the Elves from a numbing slumber to revive the forest and its inhabitants.

To the west of the Elven King's Halls and into the surrounding forest, a stream weaved around the tall beech trees, flowing over grey pebbles and contained by grassy banks on either side. A young she-elf lay flat upon the grassy bank, her lithe body covered in a patch of warm, bright sunlight that breached through the treetops. She stared into the sky from the tiny holes between the branches, a beauty she would lose herself in for hours at a time. She dangled her right arm over the edge of the bank, letting her fingers gently graze the surface of the stream.

Spring had yielded the softest grass, fit to compare to a feather bed and the orchestra of chirping birds overhead only encouraged her drowse. The elleth tangled her fingers in the dewy blades, welcoming the nostalgia of home; from the light trickling of the stream to the softly blowing wind, the elleth understood why Elves chose to live in such places. Their wide lifespans see them through the many changes of Middle Earth, the trauma it inflicts latching onto their bodies for hundreds to thousands of years which can be silenced only by the pulchritude of creation.

Yawing, she settled further into the grass completely lost to her own thoughts, letting the world around her fade into a dream.

Meanwhile, a cloaked Elf was strolling by the stream, throwing smooth grey pebbles into the clear water as he walked. Every now and again he'd pass a deeply rooted tree and would reach up to swing on a low branch or would bend low to roll on his back over a tree stump whilst grinning like a child. He continued to wander through the dense forest, never making a sound, for the crunching of leaves and twigs underfoot is the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard for Elves. He finally reached a familiar landmark which indicated he was close to home, it was some tall, thin brush that formed a border around a small grassy cove. As he approached the brush, he noticed, through the gaps between its branches, an unmoving body laying by the edge of the river bank. The bright sunlight hid the body in a blinding light which ignited curiosity in him. So the elf stood back and surveyed the area around him and found a sturdy tree whose branches overlooked the cove. He reached out and grasped a thick low branch using it to pull himself up then hoisted himself higher into the tree. When he arrived onto a branch that lay over the sleeping body, he slowly crawled on it until he almost hit the very end.

His lips parted on a soundless gasp as he drunk in the sight of her. Her body was draped in fine, pale green layers of sheer material that moulded to every crease of her sleeping form revealing her full bust, small waist and the gentle flare of her hips. Her heart-shaped face lay upon a cloud of midnight hair, her cheekbones fringed by her long dark eyelashes. He inched forward, desperate for a closer look, until he heard a loud crack of the branch behind him. Frantically turning around, he saw the base of the branch was already half detached from the trunk and he was now swinging on its remaining strength. He heard movement below him and returned his gaze to the young elleth who he saw now was wide awake, her eyes searching for the source of the sound. The elf tried to move back soundlessly, praying to the Valar he'd escape unnoticed.

The elleth scanned the brushes ahead of her, holding onto the edge of the bank in fear. The air was eerily silent, only the rapid tattoo of her heart drummed in her ears. However her eyes noticed a peculiar shadow a few metres from her. It was moving oddly and as she raised her head to look up, a branch snapped with an echoing crack, falling with a large object on its back. The she-elf jolted in surprise, the soil under her grip gave way sending her flying into the stream behind her, the rushing water drowning her screams.

The elf rolled off the branch to find the elleth was nowhere to be seen but noticed the collapsed edge of the bank. In a state of panic he rushed over to the verge and saw her flailing under the clear running water. He reached his arms into the water and scooped her up, her body still struggling in his dripping embrace. She coughed out, to the side, all the water that was trapped before settling back into the cradle of his arms.

"Let me help you." He said as calmly as he could muster, although her incessant wiggling had an unwanted effect on him.

The elleth's eyes broke open at the sound of him, her chest feeling heavier as she drowned in his looks. His piercing sky blue eyes surrounded by straight white-blonde hair and his serious countenance loomed over her which only drew emphasis to his high cheekbones and taut jawline. The elf was drawn in by her pale green eyes, unlike the usual blue of his kind, and wondered how she came across such a staggering feature. He noted the way her drenched dress now clung to her body, her pouting nipples protruding through the clingy fabric, it had taken a different kind of strength for the elf to not let his thumb gently circle them.

Softly, he placed her body onto the grass before reaching behind him and yanking off his cloak, never breaking his gaze on her. The elleth took the cloak and wrapped it around her which immediately replaced some of the warmth she lost from the strange elf's body.

"Are you unhurt?" He asked.

The elleth was internally fighting the shoots of heat that loped through her nerves as though they were lit fuses burning their way to a part of her that she locked away. The elf brought himself closer to her, inspecting her body for injury but in the way she wrapped herself in the cloak made this task impossible. The elleth sat upright and turned away from the Elf in an effort to quell the raging desire in her and after a moment the heat surging through her body now ran like treacle. She looked up, hugging the cloak tighter to her body, and noticed the fallen branch.

"You were watching me?" She asked simply. She heard the elf tense, his breathing hitched and he gulped loudly.

"It was not my intention to startle you." He replied with trepidation.

"Then what was your intention?" She began, her tone implying something of a lewd nature and she turned to face him, "it can't have been good if I almost drowned because of it."

She immediately regretted facing the elf, his blue eyes and broad shoulders had her distracted in an instant.

"I apologise, it was not my intention to drown you," he offered, his tone laced in mockery. The elleth was drawn back by his playfulness which caused her ire to flare up. She flicked a clump of wet black hair over her cloaked shoulder and narrowed her wide green eyes into angry slits.

"I'd appreciate it if you would just leave me be," she began, her words as sharp as arrow heads, "I will not be yours to torment."

Now it was his turn to sit back at her tone and the unfamiliar feeling of dejection forced him to gaze upon her sweet face impassively.

"I, Legolas, offer my deepest, most profound apologies for scaring you."

The elleth blanched, her eyes grew wide in recognition. Legolas...Prince Legolas of Mirkwood.

"P-prince Legolas?" She stuttered, her mortification evident on her blushing cheeks.

He nodded, confused by her change in tone.

The elleth bowed immediately, her knees digging to the ground.

"You have my sincerest apologies my Prince, I did not recognise you. It is my own fault I fell in and nothing to do with you." Taking off the cloak and holding it up to Legolas, "please take this back, I am not worthy of your kindness."

Legolas lifted her chin with a slender finger, forcing his gaze unto her embarrassed face. Something stirred deep inside him, an deepening warmth that coiled in his lower regions as their eyes connected.

"I may be a Prince," he began, his face inching closer to hers. "But I am no monster."

The elleth looked into his eyes, rivulets of water trickling down the sides of her face; searching for something in those bright blue depths that she could not name. He sensed her apprehension and stood up, helping her from the ground also. He knew she feared him and was determined to change that.

"Let me take you home." He asked.

The elleth shook her head, "my Prince it is not necessary, I can-".

Her words stopped short when Legolas reached under chin again, letting his eyes resume its gaze on her pretty face.

"I am taking you home." He said sternly.

Legolas lightly trailed his finger down the curve of her cheekbone, marvelling at the exquisite softness of her pale skin which held no blemish, it was as clear as the stream she fell in. At this thought, Legolas smiled to himself. The elleth bent her head at his smile, discomfited by what he must be thinking of her.

The elleth grasped the cloak, its earthy green colour now dark from absorbing the stream from her wet body. They turned to the small clearing behind the brush, awkwardly stepping over the broken tree branch in silence.

They meandered between the trees whose branches and leaves knitted so tightly together that only specks of sunlight dotted over the hard ground below. The usual clatter of birds no longer had their relaxing effect but only increased the awkward tension between the pair. When they broke through more brush onto a winding gravelly path, Legolas turned to look at her. Her wet hair hung from her head like clumpy string and her cheeks were tinted with a fading red. The elleth, however, spent the silence trying to stay warm; she wore the thin cloak like a cold heavy soaked sponge around her body.

"Elleth," he began, his voice even, "I've taken the peace from your morning yet not your name," his eyes now darting to her full lips, "may I have it?"

The elleth turned to the side, her face flushed and burning. "Nienna, my Prince."

"Nienna," she quivered at the way it rolled off his tongue. Feeling his searing gaze on the side of her face she felt compelled to turn and look at him. When she gave in, her heart was seized by his eyes; they were like crystal blue orbs, so mesmerising.

They continued walking with tall trees looming over them on either side; as they approached the end of the path, the Elven Palace appeared at the very edge of the tree-line in all its morning glory.

"Where are your chambers," Legolas asked, "Nienna."

Legolas noticed Nienna shiver when he spoke her name the first time and was delighted when he found the effect wasn't a single occurrence.

"I reside in the palace," Nienna began, her eyes lifting shyly toward him, "on the third level."

"The palace?" He asked and Nienna nodded, "how is it that I have not seen you?"

Nienna was unsure whether she should answer, the question seemed more a personal musing until Legolas resumed his gaze on her.

"I've not often had the pleasure of leaving the palace, save the early mornings or late at night."

Another silence followed, just as deafening as the one previous. The quiet void between them was filled with unspoken thoughts, barely controlled lust and something else, something that emanated from both sides like a perfume.

Nienna shivered in the cloak, wishing it was his arms that wrapped around her, that it was his warmth that burned through her wet body. She turned to peak up at him, her green eyes following the straight lines of his face, her need caressing his cheekbones, jaw, collar bones and then her imagination caressed everything else. She dropped her gaze to where she believed his Adonis lines lay, like arrows to-

She felt it, like a burning furnace his gaze prickled on her skin and she instantly turned away. However, now the burning of his gaze morphed into the burning shame she now felt from blatantly staring at him and it.

Legolas smirked to himself, relishing in her open admiration of him but quietly enjoying breaking her innocence. Her curiosity was sparked and he knew she felt the same attraction he did but his honour fought its way to the forefront of his mind. Of all lessons he learned as an elfling, he recalled the importance of keeping pre-marital affairs as fantasies in his head for Elves mate for life and purity and marriage walk hand in hand. He would never risk her virtue but he could please her in other ways…

Time passed slowly, so slowly that it seemed still as though waiting. The morning sun floated behind the trees at the same angle, the birds chirped their tunes repeatedly like parrots and the dull air hovered stagnantly.

Before long, the palace stood towering before them, covered in twirling tree roots that formed ancient patterns, the heavy set front doors flanked by armed guards who bowed for their Prince as he approached. They walked to the third floor and down a dark corridor which held none of the grandeur Legolas' quarters held. When Nienna stopped in front of her chamber door, she looked up at him again and took the cloak off.

"Thank you, my Prince," she whispered shyly, holding up the cloak. Legolas only stared at her, her dress was still soaked, curving to her every crevice; gulping and averting his eyes upwards from her pebbling nipples he took the cloak from her. He held the drenched cloak and stepped closer to her. He noted a prominent pulsing vein in her neck that beat against her skin, he knew she felt it, the odd connection that stilled the world around them. So he cornered her so her back was against the door and lifted a piece of matted hair that clung to her face and tossed it behind her shoulder. Nienna stared into his eyes as they saw through her, delving into her green pools.

"Nienna," he said, internally smirking at her shiver, "will you be attending the Ball tomorrow?"

"No, your grace," she replied, slightly breathless, "I've not attended a Ball for a number of years."

Legolas brought his face closer to hers, his stare illuminating the depths of her body that laid dark and dormant. He pressed his taller frame on her smaller, lithe one, knowingly allowing Nienna to feel his muscled chest press against her breasts. He dipped his head and gently pressed his lips on hers, watching her eyes flutter close before leaning in.

"You are coming to the Ball tomorrow," he commanded in a husky tone. Nienna nodded, her eyes dazed and mind still swimming in the kiss.

Nienna quickly turned around, Legolas now pressing into her back, even with her hair wet from the stream she smelled unique. Nienna felt him, his hard body, and yanked the door handle down before almost falling into her chambers. She turned behind her just as he got an eyeful of her hour-glass body and looked upon him a final time before slowly closing the door. Legolas maintained eye contact until the door shut completely, his body suddenly alive with desire and he turned to walk to his chambers hurriedly. Nienna, however, leant back on the door for support, still stuck in the blue sky of his eyes.