The princess stood on a balcony that overlooked the shining city of Ondolinde, its new turrets and ramparts gleaming white in the moonlight. Sunkissed locks framed a delicate face of elven beauty, blue eyes sharp within a pale oval of fine bones as they gazed out over the view. She frowned, a hand tightening on the blue silk of her gown, eyes darkening in concern as she stood guard over her new city. A circlet of mithril glittered on her brow, as new as the city before her.

"Princess?"

She turned at the call, brow wrinkling at the title used, though she sighed as if in resignation.

"Yes?" she replied, blue eyes searching the darkness for the speaker.

"Just me, Princess," came the voice again as a tall, lithe figure stepped into the moonlight.

She visibly relaxed, letting go of her gown to smile softly, "Glorfindel," she breathed.

"How many times must I tell you to call me Idril?"

"Should not the lady of such a fine city be deserving of a title to equal it?" the elf lord asked, joining her at the railing with a wry smile, his own blue eyes sparkling gently.

"You flatter me too much," Idril replied, brushing aside a lock of cornsilk hair.

The golden haired elves stood quietly, gazing out over the buildings and walls surrounding the city in silence, their blue eyes looking anywhere but at each other.

"It worries me…To build such a grandiose city is to invite trouble," she murmured after a moment, looking up at the elf at her side.

He gave her a concerned look, having known her long enough to realise that her feelings were worth listening to. She looked distraught and so he stepped to her, drawing her into a warm embrace, his arms slipping easily about her slender waist.

She simply stood within the circle of his arms, taking deep, even breaths, then slowly her arms moved to curl around his torso, tucking her head against his chest as she closed her eyes.

Glorfindel was suddenly and vividly aware of the slender curves pressed against him, a far cry from the lanky, skinny body he had held so often before. The golden haired nymph had grown up while he had been supervising the construction of the city and the safety of the people. He abruptly regretted not spending as much time with her since then; she had obviously been distracted all the while by her visions, as she had been as a child.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking down at the crown of her fair head, his arms squeezing her gently.

He could feel her frown against his chest before she looked up, "For what, Glorfindel?" she asked, voice innocent.

"For not spending time with you since we arrived…" he said somberly, watching her with a strange light in his eyes.

"You've been busy, Glorfindel, I know that. It's not your job to spend every moment with me," Idril replied easily, her eyes meeting his own and searching them.

"But I'd like to…"

The words escaped his lips before he could reign them in, her blue eyes widening, then sharpening with sudden clarity as she processed what he had said. Her arms were still looped around his torso and she was startlingly aware of their proximity, of the feel and smell of his presence that she had always taken for granted.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared wordlessly at him, eyes locked with his own. Then, suddenly, his arms tightened possessively about her waist and his lips descended upon hers, brushing them once, gently, the touch sparking with electricity.

He pulled away then, ducking his head as if in apology, two bright circles of colour burning on his cheeks.

The image of a small boy, dark haired and spritely with intelligent eyes of quicksilver grey, flashed before Idril's eyes, his own pleading with hers. She closed hers for a moment, the image banished from her mind, then she drew her hands to Glorfindel's face, framing the proud, handsome features.

She caught his gaze once more, then drew his lips to her own, pressing them together with a searing heat that flared at every point of contact between them. She pressed herself to him, slender curves against toned muscle, until they were one golden flame in the moonlight high above a city that would become legend.

Glorfindel broke away for air, blue eyes scanning her face with concern. He grasped her waist in his hands, almost unable to comprehend what had happened. She shushed him though with a finger to his lips and drew herself again to him.

She was still young, he had to remind himself, though the curves of a maidenhood fully blossomed filled his hands as he held her. And now she was the Lady of a great city, untouchable by all who would dare desire such a treasure. The Princess of Ondolinde, as pure as the driven snow that touched the peaks of the mountains that marked the valley. And yet he could not keep his body from responding to her presence, to the delicate beauty that he held in his arms and looked at him with such adoration.

He had loved her for many years, but was content to wait, watching as she grew from an awkwardly quiet child to the lovely woman before him.

Pressing his face to the crown of curls atop her head, he inhaled deeply, taking in the scent that was Itarille, his Idril.

Glorfindel was almost afraid when she pulled her head from his chest, blue eyes rising to his own. Would she leave him? There were many men inside, enjoying the ball, who would be more than happy to play escort to their liege lady.

"Since when?" Idril asked softly as she nibbled nervously on her lower lip, looking almost as if she were still a young girl and not an adult.

He watched her for several moments, blue eyes searching her face for any sign of malice. But he was fooling himself…she had never seen him in any light but that of adoration and there would be no sign of ill will towards him, only the glow of her own eyes, a dark sapphire in the moonlight.

"The night you were Named Celebrindal," he whispered, eyes big in the darkness, "You were a little girl and everyone was dancing…and then you got up and danced until only I could keep up the music for you. It was then that I knew…of all the women I would see and meet….you would be the only one I would love."

A breath caught in Idril's throat as she watched him, listened to his words. Hands caught at his embroidered tunic and pressed her head to his chest, a single tear tracing its way down her cheek to disappear into the thick cloth.

They stood like that for several moments longer, the only sound that of the music filtering out onto the balcony they had claimed for privacy. Not even the thrum of conversation could reach their ears as they held to one of the only stables anchors they had in their lives.

Finally, her equilibrium regained, she lifted a pale face to look at him and took a calming breath.

"Kiss me…" she whispered, smoothing the hands that rested on his chest.

He blinked at her in confusion until her words sank in and then a slow smile curved his lips. Lifting a hand, he slid it along her jaw, cupping her face.

"As you wish, my princess," Glorfindel replied, a joyful laugh escaping his lips as he bent his head to hers and swept his lips against her own in a brush of contact.

Pulling away, he smiled again, then took her lips as he crushed her to him, fire flowing through his veins as he deepened the kiss, exploring the velvet depths of her mouth with a passion newly released.

Idril had been kissed before, when she was younger and they had all giggled about the adult actions, but never like this. A warm sweetness spread from his mouth, his touch, igniting within her an hitherto undiscovered passion.

"Idril!"

The couple sprang apart, cheeks burning at the thought of having been caught. But as they looked around, they saw no one, only the shadow of a figure moving towards the door from the ballroom, blissfully unaware of what he had interrupted. Breathing sighs of relief, the two shared another brief kiss and then Glorfindel ducked off into the shadows, blue eyes carefully watching the slim figure of the princess.

"Running away from your own party, my lady?" the voice asked as its owner slipped through the door.

"You know me, Voronwe," Idril said, cheeks still lightly stained, though she laughed merrily. "Any excuse to avoid people and I take it."

The dark haired elf flashed her a toothy grin, bowing comically in front of her. "Well, your father sent me to collect you. I think he needs to show off his precious treasure…again." He rolled his eyes, "I still haven't figured out who this treasure is though…it can't possibly be you."

The princess stuck her tongue out at him childishly, then laughed, accepting the proffered arm. Voronwe guided his friend back towards the ball…and never even noticed when Glorfindel slipped from the shadows to watch them inside or when Idril turned to send him one last burning glance before the door shuft behind her.