Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 13: A Morning Spent With Alanna

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does not contain slash, and it is not a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of Legolas's bride-to-be as well as the title of this story. Also, Cassie, or elvenmistress19 for agreeing to be my beta-reader and for her advice on this chapter.

DEDICATION: This chapter is for Cassie as a get-well-soon present as she is in the hospital (I assume that's why you didn't reply to my last mail? You got sent back?). I hope she is well. Get well soon, Cassie! I want to hear from you soon!

…

Legolas spent a sleepless night in a foreign and musty smelling bedroom, his mind whirling with so many thoughts that he could not even rest, let alone sleep a little. If he had been at home, he would have given up and gone to the library and read a book by candlelight. But being Alanna's guest, and in a foreign place he knew little about, he was forced to spend the night tossing and turning restlessly.

He rose as soon as the sun came up, dressed, and made his way to the parlor. Alanna was already sitting there, leafing through a book; he had a sneaking suspicion that she had not slept a wink either. She rose to greet him.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," He lied, "Did you?"

"I've been up all night," She admitted, "Just…thinking. I…"

"What is it?" He asked; his smile fading. Had she changed her mind? Or was she going to reveal another shocking secret?

"I…" She blushed, and then said hurriedly, "I er…this is embarrassing but…I completely forgot to give you a ring last night."

"Oh," He said, surprised, and then embarrassed, because he too had completely forgotten that she had to give him a ring to seal the betrothal. "You…"

"Here," She said, sparing him the necessity of speaking, and passing him a wooden box. "Unless," Her hand wavered, "You wish to change your mind? It isn't final, not yet. Even now, you can change your mind."

He simply shook his head, and took the box from her. In it was a plain silver band without any stone, only a small circle carved at the center where the stone normally would have been. Not half as valuable or beautiful as the ring he had given her, but it was simple, and tasteful.

He looked up, and said "Thank you. But I too will ask you one last time, before I put it on, do you wish to change your mind?" He asked, giving her a chance to refuse, as she had given him one.

But she shook her head, no. She squinted at him and then said, "You know, I am very surprised that you do not have any problem against being used, quite literally, as just a means, a way, for me to reach the one I love. Even though you are bound by duty…"

"As I said yesterday, it is a relief," He replied, a trifle uneasily, because he could not tell if he was receiving a compliment or a veiled insult.

"Even so," She said, "There are many men, who even being bound as you are, would have felt it a blot on their pride if they did not have a wife who doted on, honored, and waited on them hand and foot."

"Yes, well…" He said, as always not sure what to say to her matter-of-fact musings. He wished she would refrain from saying to which he didn't know what to say in return. "Thank you, the ring is beautiful," He said.

"It isn't a patch on yours, and you know it," she scoffed, "Yours is mithril." She glanced down at her hand.

He shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to say. He decided on the truth. "Yes, well, I appreciate its simplicity." He said, and then winced. That had not come out right. He glanced at her to see if she was insulted, but the fact that what he had said could have been taken for an insult seem to have flown completely over her head, if her half-accepting half-impressed expression was anything to judge by.

"You didn't truly forget to bring the ring yesterday, did you?" He said quietly. Something about her expression had compelled him to ask. If she had actually forgotten the ring, from what he had seen of her the previous night, she would have been laughing at herself, and making jokes at her own excuse, not blushing and embarrassed.

"No," She replied at last, coloring. "I never thought you'd consent to marry me, so I didn't even bother to bring it. I didn't even consider it. It's been lying in a drawer for months now." Her voice was a mixture of resignation and relief.

"Why were you so convinced that I wouldn't marry you?" He asked curiously, "I'm sure you realized my father sent me for a reason. You probably guessed by how sudden the arrangement was that it was a matter of necessity for me, of duty. Why did you then think I would never consent to marry you? Is it the secret? It doesn't seem enough. You knew my father would know you had one. You knew I would be prepared for the worst." He looked at her curiously, "Why do you have such a poor opinion of yourself?"

"N-no, it's not that," She said, the color in her cheeks deepening to red. "I…" And to his horror, she looked upset, and he had not intended to do that. But he saw he'd inadvertently backed her into a corner.

"Never mind," he said softly. "It matters not." He smiled, trying to reassure her, but to his surprise and horror, only succeeded in upsetting her further. He sighed, and averted his eyes from her flushed countenance, waiting for her to recover herself.

He swore to find out what this was about at some later date, but he could perceive that this was not the time. But he would definitely not let this go. He could not understand why she had such a poor opinion of herself. The way she laughed at herself, made jokes at her own expense, and put herself down at every opportunity had struck him as very strange, and slightly exasperating, as he had not yet figured out what the best reaction would be. She did not seem to expect him to contradict her, and he could hardly agree with her. That would be outright rude. They sat in uncomfortable silence, while she recovered herself.

"I was thinking," Legolas said, when he perceived by the return of her regular breathing that she had recovered, "That the school is very well established where it is. The children like it there, the place is equipped for their archery practice, the armory is stocked, and it would throw lessons off course for a week or two if we moved to the main palace. Not to mention, the unnecessary expense of moving everything. I think it would be best if we made our home there. It is smaller than this palace, and certainly smaller than the main palace, so I thought I should ask you first. Maybe you will have trouble adjusting…?"

"Legolas, honestly, this palace is so large and so empty that I sometimes feel like I'm going to die of loneliness. I can live anywhere as long as there are people to fill the halls and corridors. I'm tired of living alone. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to living among fifty or sixty children…"

"It will probably be more than that," Legolas warned.

"The more the merrier," She said, with conviction.

"Reserve your comments about that until you hear all of them on their first day," He said, somewhat amused, "You'll wish you hadn't been born. The more they are, the louder they get. And I speak from experience."

"Still," She insisted, "I have never interacted with children before. I will look forward to the experience with an eager heart." She smiled, her spirits seemingly quite recovered.

He smiled uncertainly in return, not sure what to make of the sudden change in mood.

"So," She said brightly, after another moment of silence, "When do you want the ceremony? And where?"

"I will have to run that by my father. As you know, the groom's father conducts the ceremony. But I was thinking, along the lines of the end of this month."

She looked at him surprised, "That soon?"

"Well, I was hoping…why, is that a problem?"

"No, no, not in the least," She returned hastily. It's just, aren't you going to at least pretend that we know each other well before we get married? I realized that this is not a marriage of love, but…"

"I don't think it will be a problem," Legolas replied, "I think marriages of convenience are quite the norm among Mirkwood royalty. My mother and my father had a similar marriage, and no one had any objection." He did not tell her that it was at the insistence of his people that Thranduil had remarried to begin with.

She nodded. "Where will it be held?" she asked after a moment.

"I'm not sure. That, too, will have to be up to my father. It will probably be in the throne room of the main palace, as our coronation will be soon after our wedding."

"Oh, Valar!" She said, her eyes wide.

"What?" Legolas asked.

"I've been thinking about this marriage so much, that I completely forgot that I'm going to be Queen. That just…it…"

"Don't you want to be Queen?" Legolas said, in mild surprise. He would have thought that someone who'd been living like a queen all her life would have no problem being one.

"No!" She exclaimed, looking horrified at the thought, "I'd be hopeless! I don't know the first thing about diplomacy, or tact, or-"

"All you'll have to do is smile, and wave to the crowds during public appearances, and make polite conversation at banquets. That's all. Everything else can be left up to me, unless you actually want to intervene." He had always known that it would be his lot to take the throne one day; so much as he dreaded it he had accepted it, unlike her.

"Polite conversation!" she all but screeched, "Tact! For me, that's as difficult as trying to thread a needle with a tree trunk!"

"You'll learn," He said firmly, with more confidence than he felt, "Because you'll have to. There won't be any other way around it."

"Well…just be prepared for mistakes. I'm forewarning you," She said grimacing.

He looked at her with a dismayed expression. As if the marriage to a complete stranger, his duties as a teacher, and his duties as a King wasn't enough, he would have Alanna's blunders to contend with as well. He suppressed a groan.

"Well," He said, only half-joking. "Please remind me that you forewarned me when you make blunders, otherwise I will not be able to vouch for my own actions."

She laughed lightly at this, giving way to a more comfortable silence than the last one. Alanna fidgeted with her engagement ring for a moment, and then a moment later, said, "Would you like some breakfast?"

"Yes, please," He said, "I shall have to leave soon after; I have to see my father."

"Of course. Caliana!" She called, and a woman came rushing in. From the way she was dressed Legolas inferred that she was a servant.

"My Lady?" She asked.

"Please bring us breakfast," Alanna said.

"Yes, Lady."

Legolas watched the exchange with some foreboding. There were only a few servants at the school; Legolas encouraged the students to be self-reliant as far as possible. While he knew that when he became King, there would be more guards and servants in and around the palace, he could not help but feel worried that Alanna was too used to being waited on hand and foot, and would be dissatisfied when someone did not answer her every beck and call. He supposed he would just have to wait and see, but he was beginning to realize that Alanna's isolated upbringing was going to be decidedly problematic in the future.

The breakfast came, along with two silver plates and spoons. It was, to Legolas's relief, an ordinary broth, along with a few pieces of buttered bread in a basket. He disliked food that was rich and ostentatious.

She served him, and to his relief, and her surprise, managed not to spill the broth. Caliana hovered in the background, clucking her tongue concernedly, and admonishing her Lady to "be careful! And use the right serving spoon! That one's for vegetables!" To which Alanna kept laughing and replying that the more Caliana warned her, the more likely she was to spill the whole bowl of broth down her dress, which was, she added, thankfully black so the stain wouldn't show if that did happen.

Legolas waited until she had served herself with bated breath, expecting an accident every other second, but to his relief, and to Caliana's, there were no accidents.

He tasted the broth, and gagged involuntarily. It was bland! Completely tasteless! He looked up, wondering if there had been some sort of mistake, and if the cook had forgotten to add spices.

"This is wonderful," She sighed, smiling at Caliana, who beamed at her.

"Isn't it?" She asked, Legolas. She had not noticed his initial reaction to the broth.

"Yes," He lied, having no choice under the circumstances, "It's got such a subtle flavor." So subtle that I can't even taste it.

They ate in silence, Legolas because he thought that if he said anything, he would surely choke on the tasteless, watery liquid; and Alanna because she, he would later discover, generally did not speak very much at mealtimes. Legolas was relieved that the bread and butter were at least palatable, and ate more of this. The meal was over soon, because Alanna ate extremely fast and he himself ate less than normal, not liking the food.

"Well," Legolas said after a moment, "I have to go home now. Father will be expecting me."

"Yes," Alanna answered, surprising him with a curtsey. "It's been a pleasure, my Lord." He raised an eyebrow in astonishment. "Caliana will have my head if I don't address you properly," She explained in a low voice, glancing over her shoulder at the woman, who was eyeing him with mistrust.

Legolas suppressed a smile, and said, bowing to play the part of a gentleman, "Farewell, my Lady. It has indeed been, as you said, a pleasure. I thank you for your company."

Caliana clucked in approval, and Alanna shot Legolas a grateful look. She walked him to the door, curtseying again, and waiting politely at the door until his horse was brought by one of the men at the gate. He bowed, bade her yet another formal farewell for the benefit of the watching guards, and mounted Arod.

Alanna watched as he rode off into the distance.

…

Legolas knocked on the entrance to his father's throne room, paused a moment, and entered. His father looked up, and then rose swiftly from his throne when he saw that it was his son. Legolas walked slowly forward until he was face to face with his father, wondering what to tell him, and how.

"Well?" Thranduil asked impatiently after the prolonged silence, "What happened?"

Legolas hesitated a beat, and then raised his hand, letting the ring on the middle finger of his right hand speak for itself.

…

TBC…

Sorry it took so long to update. This chapter was actually ready some time ago, but was delayed because I didn't realize for a long time that Cassie was sick. I would have waited, but that would have meant keeping all of my readers waiting, and since it's been ages since my last update, I feared losing readers. Anyways, thank you all for reviewing.

Oh, and, Lindahoyland would probably be interested to know that the next chapter will be…ENTER ARAGORN! And once he's there, he'll be there to stay! So to those of you who've missed him, you now have something to anticipate. Please review!

P.S. Because of my hurry to update, I may have been unable to pick up on some of the typos Cassie says were littering this chapter. I'm terribly sorry, and hope the chapter was good enough to make up for them.