So it's been almost 10 months since I updated, and I could give you a list of excuses, but that seems silly. I just haven't updated. Hopefully I'll be able to do so again sometime soon, but I really won't promise anything. Except that I will not abandon this story entirely (it just might take me a few years).

Thanks to my reviewers: Hypnotized Angel, Cracked Coconut, xJasminexJezebelx, JBlackiloveyou, Twilight's Oblivion, rearviewxmirrors, Tioman, Crecy, Black-Sun-567, and ninja-of-twilight! I really love knowing people read and enjoy my work.

Disclaimer: All characters that you recognize belong to Tolkien. If they belonged to me, then I would be the published author instead of writing here.

I woke up one morning about six months later and began to go about my usual routine. Since I'd finally convinced Thranduil that I wasn't a morning person, breakfast was sent to my room to wake me up every morning. It usually consisted of fruit and some kind of roll thing with this delicious honey butter type spread. And a glass of water, for which the elves thought I was exceedingly odd. Water was commonplace for them, but I was still excited that you could simply go down to the river and drink it straight because of the lack of pollution here.

At any rate, I finished breakfast and got dressed in one of my everyday gowns, which was still way more expensive-looking than anything I'd owned in our world. Then I headed to the library, which was on the main floor (my room was three flights upstairs), to begin sorting for the day. I was actually making quicker progress than I thought I would. Because the library was ginormous, I stopped making lists of books and started separating them into piles all over the room. It was a little annoying because it meant I had to go up a ladder, grab an armful of books and come down without killing myself, then look through the books to see where they belonged and run all over the room finding their piles. It took about an hour to sort through ten books, but I was slowly getting there.

Still, the process was more than a little hectic, especially as I'd fallen off the ladder at least once a day since I'd started using it. Thankfully I had perfected the jump-backwards-when-the-ladder-gets-off-balance act, although I'm sure I looked really silly jumping and flinging books through the air.

I was sitting at the opposite end when I heard the library doors open and I froze, racking my brain to remember if I was supposed to be having lunch with anyone. I wasn't. The doors closed, and I realized that whoever was heading my way was making a thumping noise. Believe me, no elf would ever thump like that. I think they all went to charm school or something to learn how to walk perfectly silently.

I edged my way around shelves toward the front of the library, trying to be silent but failing miserably of course. I snuck around the corner of the last shelf between me and the thumping noise, fully prepared to run screaming through the doors and down the hall when I realized it was and elf making the thumping. An elf on crutches.

I popped out from behind the self with what I'm sure was a really attractive gaping look on my face and stared at the elf for at least a minute before I realized that I probably looked like a complete idiot. I snapped my jaw shut and started to introduce myself, but what came out was this: "You're on crutches?!"

The elf snorted at that, which I have never heard an elf do. He walked over to a chair and lowered himself into it, stretching his right leg out before him with a slight grimace before responding.

"I am, Lady Kat."

"Forgive me, my lord, but I've never seen an elf on crutches. Aren't you guys supposed to heal really fast or something?"

"We guys do heal fast, so I will only be on crutches for a few weeks. But even elves do not heal instantly, and my leg was almost chopped completely off."

"By who?" I realize that most male elves could chop someone's leg off, but I really didn't see it happening.

"Someone I was sparring with in guard training," he replied. "We do not exactly get along," he finished with a tight smile.

"Oh. Wow. Well…umm…I'm Kat—wait, you already know that. So, I guess, who are you and how do you know who I am?"

"My father told me who you are."

"Your father?"

"Yes, I am Fëanáro Dínendalion." He watched me closely to see my reaction to his father's name, which was a dark look. His Royal Snobbiness Dínendal, as I'd taken to calling him, and I had run across each other several times, and each time he was pretty much an ass. So yeah, I hated his guts.

"I'm sure your father's told you all about me," I replied acidly, expecting him to insult me or something.

Instead he nodded slowly, ignoring my tone. "But I do not believe it. If he does not like you, then I am sure you are the type of person I will like. You see, my brother did this to my leg, and my father congratulated him, of all things." He drawled the last part out quite sarcastically. I was sure I was going to like this elf too.

After we'd spent a few minutes getting acquainted, i.e. talking about how much Dínendal sucked, Fëanáro asked if he could keep me company in the library while his leg healed. I readily agreed, and that was how we became fast friends.

Or maybe we were more. It had been four weeks since we'd met, and Fëanáro's leg healed just in time for King Thranduil's birthday ball. Which Fëanáro was escorting me to. Tonight! I'd have the ball gown, hair fixed, the whole shebang. Ireth had even shown me the steps of the dances we would do, although she assured me that Fëanáro was quite a good dancer, even for an elf, so I had nothing to worry about in that department. But I was worried about getting mauled by the other elven ladies, since Fëanáro was supposedly almost as popular as Legolas himself (who happened to be one of his good friends).

So I was a little nervous about the death glares, and that tonight had been officially classified as a date. I know, I know, elves don't really talk in terms of dates (they use the word courting), but when Fëanáro had asked, he specifically said he thought of me not just as a friend.

Ireth was helping me get ready for the ball, basically since she was my only friend who was a girl. I'd never had a problem at home making friends with other women, but my friendship with Fëanáro seemed to limit my options. Most of the elven ladies seemed to be confused by our maybe-more-than friendship, as Fëanáro previously had chosen elves for their ability to mimic a Victoria's Secret model. I definitely didn't fit the stereotype.

At any rate, Ireth came over to my room around three in the afternoon (as far as I could tell—we didn't really have clocks in Mirkwood because the elves all seemed to have some instinctive notion of what time it was). I thought it was a bit early, since the ball didn't start until seven (actually, dinner began at seven, but I really wanted to go to that part too).

She also brought my gown, which Thranduil had made specifically for me, and I had not seen yet. I had been more than a little shocked when Thranduil visited me to let me know he was having a gown made for me, and I had protested that I didn't want him to spend his money on me. Of course, elven kings have treasure troves and all that, so I'm sure he wouldn't run out because of a simple ball gown. But still, I felt like I was already taking too much. Thranduil wouldn't take no for an answer though, and he insisted that it could be counted as part of my pay for cleaning up the library. And since I was doing it single-handed, I conceded to him that I may have earned it.

But when I saw the gown, I knew it was worth way more than my work. It was made of some kind of pale green fabric which seemed to float even when it wasn't on—it could have been silk, but I suspect it was something we don't have in our world. It was also covered with an embroidered leaf design that was in the same color thread; the embroidery was so thin that it seemed to shimmer when the dress moved, and I knew it had to have been done by hand (for one reason, elves don't really have machines). Of course, it had long sleeves and was fairly modest, like all elven gowns, but since it was made for my body, it was much more flattering. All in all, it was the most beautiful gown I'd ever seen, and I knew it would make me look far prettier than I actually was.

Once Ireth came over, the afternoon was like a whirlwind of fabric and brushes and maids rushing in and out to help. I really don't remember much of anything until we got to the hall for dinner. Somehow, Fëanáro had arrived at my room with Amras to escort us both to dinner and the ball. When I finally slowed down enough to realize what was happening, I noticed how handsome he looked. Don't get me wrong—all elves are handsome, at least all the ones I've seen—but he looked particularly striking in a tunic of the same color green and the same design as my gown. It was quite clear that we were attending the ball together.

For some reason, Fëanáro seemed a little tense. If he had been human, I would have attributed it to nerves, but I was hardly worth getting nervous over. I mean, I'm sure I spent a fair amount of our time gawking at him and hanging on to his every word, so he couldn't doubt that I didn't like him.

Thankfully though, we made it through dinner with no mishaps. Thranduil had the foresight to seat Fëanáro and I, and Ireth and Amras at the high table with him, so I was surrounded by people who actually liked me. Fëanáro, of course, had a place up there, but I would have thought Amras would have been seated at a lower table. Not that I minded at all. I would have thought that I should have been seated at a lower table too.

Dinner was light and delicious as all the elvish food was, and Thranduil had managed to sneak me a glass of water along with my wine, so I wasn't too tipsy by the time the dancing started. Fëanáro did prove to be an excellent dancer. It reminded me of the time I'd been at a conference in Argentina and met one of the best tango dancers in the world. I definitely have two left feet when it comes to any sort of ballroom dancing, but this man (and Fëanáro) made me look like I knew what I was doing. I was definitely having a ton of fun, and I even got up enough confidence to dance with both Thranduil and Amras several times.

At midnight, we toasted Thranduil for his birthday. Several hundred elves had brought presents with them to the ball, but I had shown him mine that morning in the library. By this point, I'd finished most of the sorting, so I let him know that the job would only take a few more months. I know it sounds like a pretty lame birthday present, but he seemed to be very pleased with it.

Unfortunately, the toast involved some sort of very, very, very tasty elvish champagne-type substance. It also happened to be very, very, very alcoholic, and I tend not to mix well with strong alcoholic beverages. Amras must have noticed how flushed and giggly I was when I danced with him after the toast, because he quickly returned me to Fëanáro.

I thought Thranduil or Fëanáro would be upset that we were leaving the ball before it was over (although I hadn't planned to stay till the end, since usually elvish balls went on until dawn or so). But Thranduil simply smiled at me and wished me goodnight, and Fëanáro's leg was apparently getting stiff, so he was happy to go.

He escorted me back to my room looking really tense, even though I was drunkenly laughing at everything. I really couldn't figure out why he was so nervous, but it came to me suddenly when we reached my room.

It might have been because he kissed me.

Fëanáro was a really good kisser, but I was unfortunately a really giggly drunk (and the situation was just too ridiculous), and so before the kiss was over, I was laughing. At first he looked a little insulted, but he soon joined me in laughter (or maybe he just wanted to save face once he realized I wasn't stopping anytime soon).

After I'd finally calmed down, I sobered up enough to realize that I'd just laughed in the very handsome face of one of my best friends, and I felt really bad about it. I stammered out a hasty apology, but Fëanáro's eyes were sparkling with mirth.

"Do not trouble yourself," he replied. "It was not what I expected either."

"What did you expect then?"

"I expected that it would not be so ridiculous."

I blushed at this and tried to lower my head, but he grasped my chin and made me meet his eyes.

"Do not be embarrassed. It was not a kiss I would describe as romantic."

I thought about it for a minute, and I really, really wished it had been romantic (after all, Fëanáro was perfect), but it really had been a little disappointing. You know, lacking in spark or whatever.

"Yeah, I guess it wasn't romantic. Perhaps we would be better off as friends?"

Fëanáro looked a little relieved. "Yeah, I think we would be better off simply as friends. Although I will say that you were the most enjoyable lady I have ever had the opportunity to escort to a ball."

"Maybe that was why you were so nervous?"

At that, Fëanáro rolled his eyes. "Elves am never nervous, Kat."

"Ohhhh, okay. So you were just tense because…"

"Because of my leg. That is all. Now I will leave you to your bed. Goodnight Kat." He spoke this all rather hurriedly, and then proceeded to practically run off.

All in all, I'd had an excellent first ball, and a rather humorous first kiss (from an elf—I had gone on dates in Atlanta before, so I wasn't completely devoid of social skills).

A/N: I just wanted to keep you informed as to the timeline. Legolas and Gandalf are due to return to Mirkwood a year after Kat arrives. Thus far, it's been about 10 months since her arrival, so he'll be showing up sometime soon. I know writing 10 months into 3 chapters is a little hectic and it's a little hard to see the characters develop, but the story will slow down a lot once Legolas comes home. I just figured it would be a little boring to tell you all the details involved with organizing this library.

Thanks for reading! Review if you wish!