AN- And heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's the next one! Almost a continuation of the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy...AND REVIEW!

FIRST MEETING

Really, she hadn't meant to meet him at all. It just…happened. Regardless of the fact that he was 'eye-candy' (a term she learned from her father), she felt he had no right to be interested in her. After all, he didn't know her, and she only knew him by his legend. Still, regardless of whether or not she wanted to meet him or not, she still bumped into him after the dinner. Something she wasn't too happy about.

She refused to be within eyesight of him. Something about him made warning bells go off in her head, and she didn't want to be bewitched by his good lucks, either. So, she stood just around the corner, listening to the early spring birds that flitted about the garden that she and the elf were situated in.

He was seated, and still remained seated even after she had walked around the corner and then leapt back from sight. So the position of his heart told her. Interesting that it sped up slightly, showing her that he was aware of her.

They stayed in that same position for several minutes, him looking towards the sky as he sat on the stone bench, she leaning against the hedgerow out of his sight, her eyes glued to the ground. It was he that spoke first. "Who are you?" he asked, elvish voice thrumming softly in the air.

"A shadow," she answered instantly. "One that should not be trusted, nor bothered."

"That is folly. No woman should ever think herself as a shadow." His tone was oddly persistent.

"Even if I am?" She grinned wickedly, though he couldn't see it. "My father trained me himself. He is my only better in terms of fighting."

She heard him scoff lightly. "That does not make you a shadow that makes you a decent warrior."

She stood straight with indignation. "Careful, prince. I am far more than decent. To lump me in with those that really are 'decent' just might be hazardous to your health. And I am a shadow. My father's sword style is one that pits you against many, and is the perfect tool for an assassin."

"So, you name yourself as an assassin?" he asked, and she heard the scorn in his voice.

"Nay, prince. I named myself as a shadow. I help protect Gondor and all its allies. Why do you think no enemy army has marched upon Minas Tirith or any other Gondorian province for the past fifty years or so?"

"You so callously name yourself a manslayer, yet write it off as just being a shadow. Do you know how depraving that sounds?"

"I did not hear you nor any elf from Eryn Lasgalen complaining when I took the head of a goblin chieftain readying to make war against your lands. Be careful of how you treat me, or I won't feel so ready to do such a good deed in the future."

Legolas snorted, a very un-elf sounding noise. "We could handle anything that the dark forces have to throw at us." He paused, and Elanariel heard his clothes shifting slightly. "What you do is unfair and unethical."

Elana smirked. "You really think so? I always give them time to prepare." She silently and gently lay her hand upon the hilt of her blade. "Here, I'll show you. Prince, prepare!"

She heard…no felt him jerk in surprise. "Wha-?" Before he finished saying that word, she was around the hedge, her blade drawn and resting lightly on his neck. He looked at the sword, and then at her, fire dancing in his eyes. "That, my lady, was unfair." He slowly stood, frustration and anger shown clearly on his face.

She smiled brightly at him. "My lord, I must say that combat, as a whole, is unfair. You yourself own a bow that can outshoot anything on Arda. Well, anything other than a Durvagorian firearm. You are undoubtedly the best archer this land has seen in a long time. You have taken down hundreds of orcs before they ever noticed your presence. I gave you forewarning. Is it my fault that you were unprepared?"

She and Legolas stood still for an untold amount of time. Finally, he smirked. "I know the perfect counter to your attack." Before Elana could react, his large warm hand enveloped her small cool hand, disabling her ability to use the sword. By no means, however, was it a grip to hurt. Rather, it was almost a caress.

He gently pushed down, and Elanariel had no choice but to lower the blade, unable to ignore the sparks that seemed to be emanating from his hand. She blinked, and he was suddenly there, pressing his lips softly against hers. She twitched, and it was impossible to ignore the racing of her heart as he pressed more insistently with his lips. Her sword dropped heavily onto the ground, and he stepped forward, bringing his body against hers.

She gasped, and his tongue entered her mouth, caressing hers wetly and smoothly. She noted dimly that he tasted…fresh. As though this kiss was more than just a kiss. Then, just as she was getting into the rhythm, he pulled away, and she blinked in confusion, unable to really comprehend what he just did. He smirked in a very, very male way, and she focused on how smug he looked. She could fight against that.

He leaned in for another kiss, but she smirked and placed two of her fingers against his mouth. "Careful, prince. No matter how exhilarating it is to kiss the cobra, remember that the cobra has a poisonous bite." She smiled widely, making sure he saw her fangs. Leaning in a bit closer, she whispered, "You have to earn the next kiss, my lord." Without another word, she retrieved her sword and walked away, drawing her cloak closer about her. However, she did not miss the prince's last words:

"This promises to be fun…"