Chapter 3

October 18, T.A 2940

Evening

Anariel sat in the dining hall having been led there by an elven guard, Meludir, who escorted her no differently than Legolas had. Meludir stood behind her chair at full attention hands clasped firmly behind his back they awaited King Thranduil and Prince Legolas.

Entering from the far side of the hall the king's eyes fell upon her in a stern gaze, 'You are to stand when I enter and stay standing until given permission to re-seat yourself,' Thranduil spoke firmly, clearing the distance between them.

'Seriously! Your rules keep getting more ridiculous by the minute,' Anariel growled, standing she slumped her shoulders dramatically with a sigh.

Meludir glanced over to Legolas, as the friend that he was, holding back a chuckle at his overly dramatic sister, Legolas himself cast back a suppressed chuckle silently making plans for later that night.

Thranduil took a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed briefly as though it took all his patience to merely watch his daughter. 'Can you try to be graceful, and stand up straight.'

'I am,' she spoke shooting him a mockingly pleasant smile.

'Sit, we can deal with it in your lessons tomorrow,' the king sighed before seating himself taking a rather large sip of wine. 'Wrong, just wrong.'

'What now?'

'First, sit up straight or I will tie you up properly until you figure out how. Secondly, hold your wine glass properly and... can you... Meludir,' King Thranduil snapped out to the guard behind his daughter suddenly. 'Ensure that her instructor for etiquette lessons will be there first thing tomorrow morning. And bring the elvish robe for her.'

'Yes, my lord.' Meludir bowed as he turned stalking out the room.

'Really, does it matter? Do you really care how I hold this god forsaken glass?' Anariel snapped eyeing her hand around the bowl of the wine glass.

'Indeed, it does. Legolas, if you wouldn't mind showing your sister,' Thranduil commanded as Meludir re-entered the dining hall.

'Of course, Adar.' Legolas turned to look at Anariel, picking up his own wine glass he gripped it carefully by the stem by his thumb and forefinger allowing his other fingers to rest naturally upon the base. 'Like so, no, closer to the bottom,' Legolas corrected her gently. 'There you are, much better.'

As Anariel followed his careful instructions she noted how every movement was careful, and precise. Flawless, and elegant as much as the king himself.
Anariel wiped a stray tear from her cheek, feeling out of place here. This wasn't her. She was far from this perfect, effortless grace. How was she ever going to live up to the standards of a king?

'Meludir, if you will,' the king waved a hand at his daughter paying no mind to her idle tears though he saw them.

Meludir nodded immediately beginning his work following the king's orders. With quick, yet gentle hands he tied back her shoulders keeping her firmly in an appropriate upright position allowing her no room to slouch.

'Is this necessary,' Anariel growled through clenched teeth trying to rid herself of her own tears not wanting to show such a weakness to the king.

'Until you can sit properly, yes.' his voice carried a constant tone of being chastised.

Three servants placed their plates in front of them Anariel reached uncomfortably forward as the rope dug into her skin.

'Wrong.'

'What now?' Anariel cried out towards the king her chest heaving with uneven breaths, a few unchecked tears still upon her cheeks.

'Outside, in. Always.' King Thranduil corrected noting she grasped the wrong fork in front of her.

'Right, naturally, how could I have been so thoughtless,' she tossed the silver utensil roughly back onto the table.

'If you are finished with that I suggest you place your utensils properly upon your plate,' Thranduil growled out, eyeing his daughter impatiently.

'Oh, and if I did would you snap at me for you doing it wrong, because apparently I'm awfully useless.'

'And that is why Legolas and I are here to help you,' Thranduil sighed lightly.

'Oh, for fuck sakes, that's it I'm done. Fuck off!' Anariel went to stand only to be held in place, forgetting about the elvish robe she screamed in frustration.

Thranduil stood towering over Anariel he slapped her hard across the face, her head twirled to the side from the impact, tears streaming down her cheeks from the pain, frustration, and the embarrassment it brought on. The servants and Meludir looked at her sadly almost with pity.

'Meludir, take her to her chambers. You will rest this evening and I will see you in the morning for your lessons,' Thranduil demanded glaring down at her.

Meludir untied the robe, wrapping his arm with hers as they took off silently.

While Anariel lay upon her bed supposed to be resting she found that no state of restfulness was going to come to her. Angry, furious, and heartbreak, raged through her body leaving her feeling rather depressed. Sighing exasperatedly Anariel stood from her bed.

Before she came to be here, before Anna passed when either of them ever felt down they would bake. Though she knew guards were positioned outside it wasn't allowed for her to just strut from this room. With that in mind she let out a bloodcurdling scream knowing perfectly well that guards would have to check. As they burst in, she slipped out.

Wandering aimlessly through the halls having no clue where she was going, she took notice of just how many odd looks she was given. Whether by chance or fate Anariel stumbled upon the kitchens empty for now at the late hour as the servants were home till early dawn.

In nothing but her silken nightdress and robe she set to work taking three times as long for she didn't know where anything was, needless Anariel managed to complete a batch of honey-cakes. Sighing still feeling rather mournful, she brewed a pot of tea before throwing herself down at the table staring longingly outside through a nearby entryway.

Pouring herself some tea she nibbled at the honey-cake thinking of her life that had come to pass.

'What is a princess doing in these parts?'

Anariel looked up to the entrance, a smile gracing her lips, 'Feren.'

He smiled back taking a seat beside her at the table, 'What are you doing? You shouldn't be down here, especially alone.'

'I came down to bake these,' she shrugged pointing to the plate. 'I couldn't rest after everything,' Anariel admitted tilting the plate towards him in offering.

'So the princess can cook,' he chuckled a sense of teasing lingered in his voice as he bit the sweet square.

'Please, don't call me that. It's just Anariel,' she spoke looking over the rim of her cup.

Feren nodded, 'Your hair, it's different... just Anariel.'

She chuckled nudging him in the arm, the smile lingered as they chatted. 'Yeah, the king is making me lighten it apparently the brown I once kept it was atrocious.'

'Hmm, I thought it was beautiful...not that this isn't now just...'

'Thank you,' Anariel smiled, a laugh escaping her lips.

'Why did you tint it anyway?' Feren questioned casually as he poured a drink.

'I stood out too much in a realm of mortals. Just wanted to fit in more I guess, not that it helped in the long run.'

Feren nodded his head as he helped himself to a second honey cake.

'So you know why I am down here, but what are you doing?' Anariel changed the subject quickly her voice taking on a new light and airy tone.

'I was just coming back from the field, I use this entrance more often than not, closer to my chambers,' Feren explained.

Anariel nodded with a sigh. 'Speaking of chamber's I should be heading back,' Anariel sneered.

Feren sighed himself, 'Though you are a princess I would like to think that we have become friends in this short time, so listen...' Feren stood holding his arm out for her, in order to escort her back.

Anariel growled, 'Really, I got here myself I can get back.'

'Well that may be true, but you shouldn't be wandering these halls alone,' Feren smiled kindly waiting for her to take his hand.

Anariel huffed in annoyance.

'I can't say I understand, because, well, I don't. I don't understand what it was like with the mortals, or how things worked there but I do know this realm and...'

'Oh, by the gods!' Anariel snapped refusing to take his arm still. 'You're agreeing with them, how useless do you people think I am?'

'It has nothing to do with being useless, it has everything to do with being safe. You're a princess now,' Feren urged, never ceasing in his kindness.

'Thank you, everyone keeps telling me.'

'You represent this entire kingdom. What people think of you, is what they think of the King, what they think our whole realm. I know your father, the king can be blunt, harsh, perhaps a little strict, and rough in his punishment but he cares about you.' Feren spoke taking her hand and wrapping it around his arm as they took off.

'Ha! Cares, that's the word for it...' Anariel scoffed, tugging away from Feren she stalked away to her chambers. 'Let's just get this horrible day going,' Anariel growled as she noticed the sun beginning to rise.

Feren chased after her, 'My lady, please.' Feren grasped her hand re-wrapping their arms together growling in frustration. 'You just don't get it, do you? The king spent every second searching for your mother after she was kidnapped while pregnant with you, every moment was devoted to her. When we came across her she

was found bloodied, and massacred, an act against our people, the king directly. No one knew for sure if she'd given birth or you'd been...' Feren trailed off the words obvious there was no need to speak them. 'She was kidnapped, Anariel, she had guards protecting her and still she was taken, since we found her body your father hasn't stopped searching for you without even knowing if you were alive.'

'A fine way he has of showing it,' Anariel snapped without thought.

Feren sighed, 'He was there that day we found his wife so try to forgive him for he's built a few walls and keeps his heart closed to most. He knows pain like few others do and tries desperately to push those away before they get too close. Perhaps I am making too many assumptions but perhaps it reminds you of someone.'

Feren raged seeing it in her eyes that he was right, they stopped walking as they came to her room.
Anariel wiped the tears from her face, she heard the worry in his voice, heard the devotion to her father, to their family.

As they entered her chambers her handmaidens, instructors, the king, and Legolas along with nearly two dozen guards were gathered.

'Where have you been?' Thranduil demanded angrily as they approached. 'Guards have been searching for you for hours, all that was known was your guards outside the door heard you scream and you had all but disappeared.'

Feren turned to her with a glare stunned and horrified at what she'd done.

'I...'

'This is not to be taken lightly. Do you realize what you have done?'

Anariel looked down at the floor, after everything that Feren had just told her she felt horrible. She understood the way he hid his feelings, she too did it growing up, living around mortals doomed to die she went through a long phase of blocking it all out, though, in the end, she realized whether you block it out or just live and love those freely around you, in the end, it hurts no less the pain is still very real.

Before she could answer the king was hollering at her again, tears glimmering in her eyes. 'Of course you don't, just get over there and do as they ask before we begin your lessons.'

'I...I...'

'I don't want to hear a word from you until spoken to. Now go!'

The king took a deep breath as Anariel was drug away to be bathed, hair washed with the herbs to continue the lightening process.

'Thank you, Feren, for bringing her back.'

'You're most welcome, my lord.' Feren bowed his head, 'She was in the kitchens, I ran into her as I was returning to my own chambers. I will admit I stayed and talked to her for a time, I apologize I should have escorted her back immediately. I did not imagine she would have done such. My deepest apologies.'

The king bowed his own head gently. 'I thank you, for your honesty. She was in good hands, worry not. You may go, Feren.'
Feren bowed one last time before he took his leave, shaking his head lightly at the princess.