Chapter Two

September 26, T.A 2940

Evening

Anariel leaned back against a large evergreen, wrists still bound as she watched the other elves with pure genuine curiosity, these few elves were the first of her own race she'd ever crossed paths with. Still, though, she sighed shaking her head trying to dispel the tears that began to fall, everything she knew was gone ripped from under her. Though she once wanted nothing more to leave Bree but could not force herself to do so, this was not how she had seen it happening. She wanted to be able to go back say goodbye to everyone properly.

"Quel undome," Feren greeted coming to sit beside Anariel, he could not only see and hear her tears but sense her the sadness radiating from her. Sitting beside her nearly hurt the pain she felt rolled off of her in brutal waves. He knew if they were within their realm it would have been deemed inappropriate to sit so near her, still, he could sense her loneliness and thought to help his princess in a time when she needed someone was far more important. Feren held out a piece of lembas as he asked with kindness. "Maila ten vasa?"

Anariel sat staring quirking an eyebrow at him, she took a deep breath as her tears slowed to a stop.

Feren looked at her curiously suddenly unsure if she was merely ignoring him after their ill beginning. It was then the thought suddenly struck him, their own princess could not speak their language. "Pedig edhellen?" Feren asked slowly squinting his eyes slightly.

"Listen, elf. If you haven't figured it out yet I can't understand your language," Anariel snapped out annoyed as she rolled her eyes.

Feren seemed dumbfounded by this news, "You do not speak Elvish?"

"No, the funny thing about growing up with the race of men, I haven't had any reason to speak such, besides where would I learn it from and from who?" Anariel snapped out rather impatiently.

Feren nodded in understanding, "Would you like something to eat?" Feren asked once more in the common tongue.

"Thank you," Anariel nodded gratefully, holding out her hands so that he might untie the rope.

"Here, promise not to claw at me too?" Feren asked a light teasing in his voice as he nodded to the ellon she had scratched that morning.

Anariel nodded a smile twitched at the corner of her lips as he untied her hands. Anariel accepted the lembas nibbling slowly at the waybread.

"So," Anariel began slowly glancing to the side at Feren. "The King, huh." Anariel tried to make small talk, she was so used to the hustle and bustle of Bree that the quiet mellow trip seemed odd in nature. And though she was enjoying her time in the woods she too felt guilty for she left many people behind.

"King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm," Feren informed looking towards his princess.

"You're not kidding are you?" She shook her head slightly in disbelief trying to process the information. Why would one as important as the Great Elven King want anything to do with her?

"My lady, I can assure you that I am most serious." Feren bowed his head to her as he spoke.

Anariel suddenly could not hold back her laughter, not at anything in particular, but it seemed as though there was nothing left to do, perhaps she laughed purely out of distress. "I am no lady; I am a simple barmaid. What exactly does this elven king want?"

"I cannot say. That is for his Majesty to inform you of." Feren smiled kindly in hopes of easing her mind and sorrow if only a little.

"But, why me?" Anariel pushed on. "A simple barmaid from a seriously unimportant village."

"That information is disclosed, solely for the King to relay himself," Feren answered firmly.

Anariel sighed, "Fine. Look, can we just head out? The King can relay his information and then I can return home to my life." Anariel missed everyone already. Now that she was free of the village she was questioning her thoughts of ever wanting to leave in the first place.

Feren looked over to Anariel stunned, his heart aching painfully in his chest for his princess. She hopes to go back yet, Feren knew she would not be returning, he knew she would not be leaving the Woodland Realm for a long time. The king would never allow it for some time to come, he knew how protective he could be. Feren desperately wanted to tell her, to give her some time to prepare herself for what was to come but he knew it was not his place. He had thought about it to keep himself from the king's wrath.

Still, he tried a different angle. "Do you not wish to be around your own people?" Feren questioned.

Anariel opened her mouth to speak before quickly closing it again. What was she doing speaking to this elf? She was going to the woodland realm and leaving as soon as she could. There was no sense of getting attached or making friends, she would be going home again. Instead of answering his question she scoffed at him moving further away "Like you care."

Feren shook his head not understanding, he had thought they were getting along, speaking on fair terms together. She no longer looked towards him, sighing he nodded seeing that she no longer wished to talk. Though he had resolved to continue trying during the trip, he sensed that she was trying to close herself off. Offering a smile as she glanced back around seeing if he was still there, in hopes of bringing her some comfort though little it would do her.

Anariel watched the other ellyn pushing her unfinished food away feeling uncomfortable with the way they looked at her or rather didn't, each and every time she met one of their eyes they immediately dropped their gaze to the forest floor in a bow with a quick and simple, "Aranel nin."

After some time Anariel glanced back seeing that Feren had never left her yet. "What does it mean?" Anariel asked Feren as she noticed he still sat beside her, despite her turning her back on him and ignoring him, he sat there keeping her company still. Anariel was beginning to wonder if what the others said was ill-natured.

"I cannot say. It is not bad, though, that I promise." Feren smiled warmly.

Anariel nodded pulling her knees to her chest she rested her chin there, arms wrapped around her legs Anariel eyes glanced around the forest and the others.

Feren could see the exhaustion in her eyes, yet a weariness that spoke clear of her fear. "You need to rest."

"No, I am fine." Anariel tried to tell him and herself, she could not allow herself to rest surrounded by so many she had met only hours ago.

"Come," Feren ordered firmly, her eyes widened mouth gaping open to argue and holler when Feren pointed off to the side, Anariel followed his line of sight. A small tent had been set up, Feren bowed his head gently as he took his princess by the hand. "It is for you."

"I am fine out here."

"Perhaps, nevertheless it is yours." Feren led her passed the cloth barrier where a small makeshift bed was for her. "Rest, my lady. I will protect you." Feren stood tall grasping an arrow he stood by the entrance, leaning forward he gave the orders to watch the outside and at all cost protect the princess.

Anariel looked to him curiously wondering if she should or could trust the elf. Sighing, she dropped down onto the bed. What other choice did she really have? She felt no reason to fear him, so she nodded. "Feren, was it?" She breathed out lying back upon the bed, finding it surprisingly comfy.

"Yes," He answered confirming her question.

"Hmm," She breathed out pulling the blanket around her shoulders, "Thank you, Feren." A smile passed over her lips as she closed her eyes allowing her mind to be at rest.

Feren turned to face her, "Your welcome. My lady!" He cried out noticing her eyes were closed, they snapped back opened in alarm.

"Are you alright?"

"I am fine," Anariel looked to him in confusion.

"I am sorry; it is only your eyes you had closed them to… you looked as though."

"I always rest with my eyes closed, habit."

Feren nodded, it had of course made sense being raised by mortals. "My apologies. Please, rest. We move on at Dawn."

October 18, T.A 2940

Late Afternoon

From the village of Bree to the Great Woodland Realm was a nearly three-week trip by the way of horse. Along the way, Anariel wasn't sure if she had come to find a friend in Feren in those short weeks merely because he was the only one among them who spoke the common tongue or purely because she genuinely liked the elf, as she began trusting him. She tried not to like him but still he continued speaking with her, making her laugh, kept her mind on the situation at hand, protected her, and kept her safe. She appreciated it, she found herself seeking him out to spend the nights with on their travels she was glad to have him by her side.

Feren to found himself in what he could have easily been called friendship with the princess, whether she knew it yet or not. By nightfall, they would reach the halls of the Great Elven King and he'd return to his post as the Chief Marchwarden. Already he found himself hoping that he would be able to find a way to spend time with her in a way that the king would see fit.

Anariel eyes widened as they rode up to the gates of Mirkwood, the beauty of the halls, it's intricate carving within the stone, the way the light shone from the lanterns making the halls feel warm and inviting. Columns, winding staircases and never ending paths that climbed high into the air twisting and turning in a way that felt completely natural. Anariel let her eyes wander taking in the graceful beauty as Feren led her to the throne room.

Feren and Anariel paused outside a grand pair of doors guarded by a pair of highly armed elves.

"Are you ready," Feren asked looking over to Anariel, who nodded lost for words both in awe and nervousness.

"Tolo ar nin," a guard called with a bow as he turned on his heel leading the way across the thin, twirling path to the King's throne.

As they drew closer Anariel took in the sight of the Great Elven King lounging in his throne his eyes bore into hers making her more nervous than she had ever thought possible. Standing tall beside the throne arms clasped firmly behind his back was Prince Legolas, shoulders squared back he looked both regal and dangerous.

"Daro!" The king ordered, his voice flawless, and smooth as he flicked his hand in a motion for them to cease their steps. Thranduil tilted his head to the side looking upon his daughter for the first time.

Anariel followed Feren stopping as he did, clueless to the king's words.

"Feren, an lema?" The King questioned sitting straighter in his throne.

"Ta nae, Hir nin," Feren responded to the king with a bow.

As the king and Marchwarden spoke, Anariel's eyes locked with the prince's he smiled kindly her way. Anariel quickly looked away fiddling with the ends of her hair, biting nervously on her lips.

'Fear not, muinthel. You are safe here, be at ease.'

Anariel heard the serene voice in her head, stunned she glanced around the room before looking back up at the prince he nodded confirming it to have been him, smiling at his sister.

Anariel stood anxiously, eyes wandering around the room avoiding the king unbeknown to that he watched her carefully.

"Sut naa lle sina re?" The king spoke turning his attention to Anariel, though she paid no him no attention, for she did not understand his words.

"Hir nin," Feren began, "Re pedig edhellen."

Thranduil nodded, "Anariel!" he called out catching her attention.

She turned to face him fully swallowing roughly. "How are you today?" He asked once more.

"I'll be better once I can leave and return home," Anariel called up to the king firmly despite feeling something very different on the inside.

"You are home now," the king answered, standing tall he strode his way down the flight stairs his long silver cloak flowing behind him.

"This is not my home," Anariel forced out.

"Who is this elleth to you," Thranduil asked calmly as he waved a hand behind his daughter dismissing Feren and the other guards.

Feren bowed his head to him acknowledging his command, glancing over his shoulder as he left he had the sudden feeling his wished he could stay by her side.

Anariel turned watching him go before turning back looking at the picture the king held out to her. "Where did you get this?" Anariel growled snatching back the picture of her mother.

"My office, this one, however, is what I believe you are looking for." Again Thranduil conjured an identical picture. "She is..."

"My mother, how do you have this?" Anariel growled.

"Your mother, yes, before that even she was my wife." The king spoke silkily in his ever calm tone.

"No..." Anariel breathed out taking a step back from the king shaking her head.

"This is your home now," Thranduil nodded. "You will adhere to your role as princess and the expectations that follow."

"No... no," It seemed to be the only word Anariel could form at the moment.

"Legolas!"

Legolas walked carefully down the stairs, bowing his head to his sister and father.

"Legolas will show you to your chambers. Where your handmaidens will..." the king paused, eyes passing over his daughter's form, "work on that. I will be there shortly. Tell me, though, what you have done to this." The king demanded as he reached forward grasping a strand of her hair, a now light brown.

"Why, I believe there are more important things at hand than the colour of my hair." Anariel snapped, eyeing the king's hand in her hair.

"Indeed, there are. However, as Princess, you will look presentable at all times and this is atrocious. You will fix it." The King growled, "Legolas, you two are dismissed."

"My Lord." Legolas bowed as the king took his leave exiting the throne room by means of another walkway.

"Come, it's this way," Legolas stated holding his arm out, Anariel looked up at him confused. "You are to wrap your arm around mine, so I may escort you to your chambers."

"I can walk on my own," Anariel stated bluntly pulling her arm further away from him.

"You are the princess of this realm, and it would be deemed inappropriate for you to be seen just idly wondering about without one with you," Legolas spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, taking her hand he wrapped it around his own arm in the appropriate manner.

"Well that's just foolish isn't it?" Anariel snapped as Legolas led her away, though he said nothing more upon the matter.

As they entered the vast chambers, the King was already there surrounded by a dozen other ellith. Legolas released her directly in front of the King, before going to stand against a nearby wall.

"Now," the king began waving the ellith forward, "Tell me you can fix this." Again the king held a strand of hair between his fingers.

"We can certainly try to wash it out, my lord."

"No! No, you can't!" Anariel began hollering though the king still held a strand of hair between his fingers. "Just who the hell do you think you are? You have your Marchwarden bring me here with no explanation. Now you're trying to tell me I'm your daughter and fucking princess. No, just no! I'm a barmaid from Bree, sometimes a stable hand, anything and everything where I'm needed but not a princess."

Legolas gave her a sad smile though it went unnoticed. Thranduil eyes flickered in annoyance, this was not proper behavior or conduct. "I do not know what happened in Bree but you are home now and you are the princess and with such, you will behave appropriately."

Anariel only scoffed at the king, he, in turn, tugged roughly upon her hair causing a gasp of pain to slip out.

"I never said I wanted this, never said I was staying. Perhaps, I wish to leave."

Thranduil's eyes widened, he had his daughter back he could not lose her now. The fear of her being gone again took its hold in him and came out as nothing more than anger.

"You will not be going anywhere. You are my daughter and the princess of this realm. Here is where you will stay." Turning his attention back to the handmaiden he gave the next order, not allowing Anariel any other opportunity to argue. "Start with her hair, lighten it back. It's atrocious." Thranduil turned standing beside Legolas.

Anariel glanced to the king and prince, unbelieving that they were her father and brother she could care less about them at the moment, however, there was a part of her that wanted to stay that wanted to take the time to get to know her family now that she was away from Bree. How many lifetimes had she hoped to find them? But this, this was not how she envisioned it.

"My Lady, if you will." The lead handmaiden spoke taking her by the arm to lead her away, snapping Anariel out of her thoughts.

"What," she asked ripping her arm out of the handmaiden's grip.

"The king has requested we fix your hair; in such, you must undress so we may bathe you." Vanya, the handmaiden spoke calmly as though it was obvious.

"Excuse me!" Anariel snapped, "I'm quite capable, and as for my hair there is nothing wrong with it."

"Anariel!" The King's voice boomed throughout the room. "Do as you are asked."

Anariel huffed indignantly, shaking her head sneering towards the king.

"My lady your dressing screen is this way," the elleth led her away roughly as the princess continued to make a scene about it.

Once she was undressed they slipped a silken robe around her frame leading the princess behind a second screen to her bathing area. As Anariel slipped into the warm water a hand instinctively went to cover her breasts and just as quickly another hand was smacking hers out of the way. The handmaidens went about their job as Anariel increasingly became more and more frustrated growling at them at every turn.

"This is ridiculous, fuck off and keep your horrible hands to yourself." She hollered tired of their prodding hands, tired of the rough elleth scrubbing her tresses.

"Use language like that one more time and you will be punished."

Anariel looked to the side to see the king yet again, Anariel just sneered in annoyance.

"My lord," the lead handmaiden called, "It will not wash out more for now."

"What did you do to your hair?" The king growled out annoyed.

"I keep it dyed using a tincture made out of black walnut shells," Anariel answered with a slightly smug tone.

"Ah, well bad news the dye from the black walnut is horrible to get out, however, the good news we can help lighten it faster using another mixture of different herbs." A handmaiden informed.

"Good, see to it that you do," The king ordered angrily.

By the time the handmaidens had finished she was left with a light dirty blonde colour, that the king wasn't impressed with it in the least.

"This will have to do," he sneered, tugging a wet strand from her head rather roughly.

"Oh, fuck off," Anariel snapped at the king, a couple handmaidens gasped, in a flash, the king slapped her hard across the face before catching her chin in a firm grip.

"You listen here, you are my daughter and the princess of this realm. You will adhere and obey to what is expected of you, without complaint. First and foremost, I am your king and I will not tolerant such atrocious behaviour from you. Do I make myself clear?"

Anariel nodded quickly as she swallowed, tears sliding down her already wet cheeks.

The King raised his eyebrows, glaring at her sternly. "Yes, my lord." He corrected.

"Yes, my lord," Anariel repeated weakly.

"Better. Get the princess dressed and escorted to dinner." The King snapped out before tossing her face away from him as he and Legolas stalked from the room.

Names-

Anariel (Of the sun)
(Ahn-are-ee-ell)

Elvish-

'Quel Undome – Good evening

Maila ten vasa – Care for some food

Pedig edhellen – Do you speak Elvish?

Aranel nin – My Princess

Tolo ar nin – Come with me

Daro – Halt / Stop

An lema – Long Journey?

Ta nae – It was

Hir nin – My Lord

Sut naa lle sine re - How are you today?

Re pedig edhellen – She doesn't speak elvish