It had taken her a long time to let go of her anger, but alas, she did, turning her attention to more important things. Like, how the fuck her parents were going to be at her betrothal feast. Gandalf explained that, as the elves knew it, her parents had started traveling when they had, but from another area, and would arrive just in time. Her actual parents would be there, in the guise of a light and dark elf, risking all just to be there for their daughter's feast, and then later for her wedding. Let the cursed mixed breed have some form of honor.

She didn't know how, after seeing her parents, she would let them go. And she was glad to hear that her parents would only be coming themselves, bringing none of her siblings. She'd definitely break if she saw them. Faeilân fell into bed with a heavy heart, drifting off to the deep, echoing hum of her guardian Olórin, accompanied by the even deeper one of Ainur.

Iythrinel grumbled to herself as she made way to Thranduil's room, a silver ring clutched in her hand. "Must I do everything for him? Maybe it is I who should marry the lady myself as well." Ignoring the guards stationed by his room she knocked on the doors, a moment later he opened the door, already dressed in his sleeping robes.

He raised a brow as she made her way past him and he shut the door. "Your ring." she said turning to him and holding out the object. He accepted it and placed it on a table. He turned around again only to see her rifling through his clothes,

"Just what are you doing?" He asked walking up behind her, she looked over her shoulder, actually tip toeing as she grabbed a cloak off of a higher shelf.

"I'm going to lay out your clothes for tomorrow's feast." She explained simply. "I am fully capable of doing that myself Nel."

She turned to him, the rest of the clothes in her arms and a small smirk on her face, "Legolas' is capable as well yet he allowed me to do this with no trouble." Passing him he sighed and watched her lay down the clothes.

"And your own clothes?"

She stiffened. "My leathers will do." She replied and Thranduil smirked this time.

"I'm afraid not, you must dress for the occasion, shall I travel to your room to help you lay out your own clothes?"

She turned to him with a scowl, "I do not trust you to pick anything suitable to me." as soon as she said that her eyes drifted around the room, checking for anything dangerous he was sure. Her eyes soon landed on the box that contained the crown and her eyes softened, "It has finally returned to its home." she whispered, memories of a kind queen in her mind. The same memories haunted him, too.

Turning she pushed Thranduil towards his bed, "Now get rest Thran, you have a big day tomorrow." Thranduil rolled his eyes but bid her a good night. "Remember you have to dress for the occasion." he called out as she made her swift exit.

Finally after a long day she had made it to her own room. The very first thing Iythrinel did was strip herself and start a bath. Unwinding her hair from its braids she slid into the bath and was actually able to relax. Her eyes drifted to her reflection in the water and watched her glamour melt away revealing her scars, a useless eye and ruined skin.

Thranduil waited until Iythrinel was gone before he sank down onto his bed, eyes dead and cold. This was not an event he was looking forward to. And neither, did it appear, was the girl. Memories he'd rather keep buried rose to the surface as he thought back to his first betrothal. He wondered for a moment why it was he never seemed to choose his own destiny. But the first time had been a blessing from the Valar themselves, or a cruel joke, based on how it had ended. His heart clenched, so hard he lifted a hand to his chest. For the first time in a long time, he thought about someone else other than his people, his friend and his son, himself. That poor girl on the other side of the palace had no idea. She didn't know him, and he didn't know her. She seemed to have such fire, and it was wasted in a place like this. She hadn't asked to be born of two conflicting races, and here she was.

His eyes flickered back to the crown's box that rested across the room and the ghost of a smile lifted the corners of his lips. What would his mother tell him to do? After all, this situation was only temporary.

"We do not choose love, love chooses us. Be humble, make it as easy as possible for everyone involved."

His mother's voice echoed in his head, and he closed his eyes as if trying to savor it, latch on and cling to it. it had been a long time since he'd even bothered to think outside of the little box he'd created for himself. His shelter. And now, the crown had resurfaced and he was feeling all manner of foreign things. Even if it was a permanent thing, as Mithrandir had made it seem like it was possible, at least it was possible the woman was fertile, and could produce more offspring. He did enjoy children….

He grinned to himself as he thought of Legolas as a child. Happier times. The boy's laughter echoing through his halls. Now his son was grown, and strong, and would one day take the throne. And then Thranduil, tired and weary of this world, could sail, and finally be at peace. Even that thought lifted his spirits; this marriage would at least be amusing for him until the time came for him to depart to the Undying Lands. Her reactions were quite surprising.

Fae awoke to fresh Lembas bread, and strongly brewed tea, which she enjoyed very much. It helped to wake her up, and she didn't remember even eating the day before. Ainur was still lounging lazily, only opening an eye to see who entered, then closing it again once satisfied. He was getting hungry, though; the glimpses of dreams Fae caught from him were of him hunting in the forests of her grandfather. So he was hungry and homesick, the poor dear.

She took her time bathing, washing her hair three times instead of once, drying until her skin all but reflected off the surface, and then brushed her hair until it lay almost straight against her back and shone like stars. Yes, she was procrastinating. She had no desire to be in the company of people who could care less for her.

"My Lady, King Thranduil would like you to accompany him for noon bread." a voice sounded through the door, and Fae suppressed a high pitched, hysterical laugh. He wanted her to what? She cleared her throat, Ainur looking at her curiously, and she shook her head.

"Tell your King I will be up in….in a moment?" she tried, and Ainur looked at her in disappointment. She shrugged, it was the best she could do. She wasn't ready for any of this. And so she dressed, finally, again taking her time, relishing in the thought that they were waiting for her arrival before they began eating. She giggled, and Ainur shook his head at the way her directions were going. And as if on cue, since Ainur was swiftly losing control of her wayward thoughts, Mithrandir knocked twice before entering. It was a good thing she was already dressed.

"Ah, beautiful as ever." she lifted a brow at his flattery.

"What have you done, old man?"

He looked at her as if wounded for her assumption, "Nothing! I've just come from 'home.'" He lifted his eyebrows to emphasize that he meant Aman.

"And?" she was hesitant, but she asked anyway.

"Everything is as it should be." He bowed as he exited, trying for mysterious she gathered but it didn't quite work well for him that time.

So she followed after him, Ainur finally getting up with a yawn and a stretch, following them down into the depths, then up onto the surface where almost blinding light filtered through the trees. Twisted trunks rose from the ground like great serpents, wrapping around each other until they created a shading dome. And there, just under the shelter, spread out on a table of wood, was a glorious array of food for everyone to choose from, and Fae was instantly suspicious. Thranduil was already seated, looking impatient.

"And there you are. I was debating sending another guard if Mithrandir did not succeed. I trust you slept well?" He asked, standing and sweeping his silvery cloak behind him as he walked, offering his hand to her so she could be seated. And her suspicion rose.

But she took his hand, meeting his eyes for a brief moment as she sat down, but looked away and lay her hand in her lap, "Yes, thank you, my Lord." How awkward. First the tour with the guard and now this. The only condolence she had was….She watched sadly as Ainur's tail disappeared behind a corner, along with the last remnants of a grey cloak. And so, they had abandoned her. She looked back across the table, and to her shock, Thranduil was staring expectantly. She stared back dumbly, then managed to open her mouth, "And you?"

Okay, mouth, the next time you want to say something, please let it be intelligent. She gave a sigh, but the king seemed to be amused.

"I did." was all he said. She nodded, then looked around awkwardly, twiddling her thumbs, "Aren't you hungry? I remembered that you were not fed upon your arrival yesterday."

"Did you? How sweet of you to notice." And it was too late to take it back. Her sarcastic response...no wonder Gandalf was always elbowing her in the ribs. She looked up at his face, and he'd lifted one of his impressive eyebrows. She wished she could call off their marriage right then and there, before they'd even exchanged the betrothal rings, but she had a mission, and she lifted her chin. Now he lifted both brows, his chin resting on his hands as they propped under it. "Forgive me. I'm going to try from this point on to make this as easy for everyone involved as possible." she dipped her head.

A look passed over his face, one of shock, then sadness, then apparent determination and acceptance, "Then I will endeavor to do the same." And he reached across the table for something. She wasn't sure what it was, she was too busy staring at him in complete disbelief.

"Even if we have to marry, really?" She blurted without thinking. Yes, this was exactly why Mithrandir made it a point to elbow her any time she opened her mouth. She cringed visibly as he froze, staring at her.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, "If it comes to pass, then we will do what must be done. But let us both hope for a different outcome, hm?" She could have cried right then; there was no other outcome.

Sighing, she nodded and went about plucking random things from the table and placing them on her large plate before her, then mechanically fed herself, staring dully at a little spec on the table. When she looked up, he was staring again, slowly chewing. She rolled her eyes.

"What?"

"You have absolutely no manners, do you?" he asked. It was such a small question, asked simply. She gaped.

"You are the one who has been staring, Highness!" she quipped, eyeing him. He smirked, that smirk that made her want to punch him.

"Well after tonight, I will have to look at your for quite some time, won't I? May as well get used to it now." And went right back to eating. She didn't even know what else to say.

Hacking and slicing, once again the wooden spar dummy fell to the ground and Legolas could only stare. Huffing to herself, Iythrinel sheathed her sword and finally noticed the other warrior elves staring at her and she scowled, "What is it? Should you not be practicing instead of watching me? Well get to it!" They jumped and turned, throwing themselves into practice.

She turned to Legolas who looked at her with a raised brow and she frowned squinting at him, "You look like your father when you do that." She said.

He smirked and placed a hand easily on top of her head. "Well I am his son, and you've scared near everyone here."

She ducked from his hand. "Do not do that, You may be taller than me-"

He interrupted, "Not something hard to achieve I assure you."

A growl from her throat, "I can still very easily beat you, child." She stomped off after, and he followed as he was prone to do when it came to his father's guard. Once they reached the deserted halls of the kingdom she slowed and he walked beside her.

"The marriage troubles you."

She sucked in a breath and slowly released it, "It does, but there is nothing to be done about it." She turned sad eyes to him, "I hate that I am so envious, it's an ugly color on me Legolas." And with that she softly bowed her head and entered into her room, leaving him by himself in the halls.