Hey, everyone! I'll try to keep this short - I ended up deleting the original chapter twelve, which I felt veered the story in a completely different direction. I also revised the end of chapter eleven. You can reread that section to catch up, or read below to find out what I changed:

Legolas, in a moment of overwhelming emotion, kissed Estel in the river during their game of Archer's Hunt. He came to her door later that day to apologize and ask if they could disregard the incident and continue as friends. Estel answered that in order to "continue" something, one must first stop it. The two of them have and will always be friends.

That's it! Sorry this took so long, but I hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER TWELVE

A Simple Favor

Kingdoms loved to gossip. That much was known to any royal, lord, baron, and guard captain throughout Middle Earth. The young prince of the Greenwood was seen out and about frequently, and it seemed he could have any number of court documents to sign, hands to shake and nobles to meet without deterring his mood. Rumor spread that there was an air of resplendence about him that others likened to his father. The Coming King, some called him, when he wandered the paths of Eryn Lasgalen alone or with his father.

It was the end of the week, and Legolas was in good company as he walked with Galion to meet with the King. For one reason or another, Legolas hadn't seen Estel much in the days that passed, but thoughts of her had not eluded him. Her presence wasn't unaccounted for in the Greenwood. Legolas's kingdom was never busier in the year than during autumn, and Estel was out and about as constantly as other guests of Eryn Lasgalen. Chiefly with her mother, always wearing the Mask.

Crowds upon crowds of guests had poured in from other realms and kingdoms—even the mortal ones, to Legolas's surprise. Men from Gondor had arrived some days ago, and (by Thranduil's insistence) Legolas and his father had gone out to greet them as properly as they had Elrond's party. Elrond had spent much of his time with the king when Legolas wasn't around. But, to the Prince's delight, it kept his father occupied.

"I do love this time of year," Galion said. "The Lithedays—I don't think I've ever seen Eryn Lasgalen so busy."

"My father relishes power but resents his occupation with it at times."

"How do you mean?"

"He would keep everyone at arm's distance if he could," Legolas said. "Even me."

"You're his son," Galion said. "Whatever your father's idea of 'distant' might be, I doubt he exercises it actively with you."

"If that were true, he would share with me the purpose of this meeting."

Galion frowned, but he didn't argue the point. According to the messenger, Thranduil had summoned several people to him today. Not for a council but for an audience with the king. It was odd.

Legolas didn't like one bit of it.

Men of Gondor and Rohan had only come to be invited to the Greenwood in recent years. If Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn hadn't made an example of extending the hand of the elves to them, King Thranduil might not have followed suit. But following suit and offering them a spot at the table, even something so 'intimate' as an audience… it was strange.

"I'm sure your father has reasons for being secretive," said Galion.

"My father isn't secretive. He's manipulative." Legolas frowned as he trickled along the train of thought. "This isn't a war council. It's not a peace council. It's not any kind of council—he never seeks anyone's deliberation in any decision he has to make. He'd sooner consult himself in the mirror."

"What are you so worried about?" Galion said.

Something was wrong. There was no outward proof of this, but Legolas knew it viscerally deep. "Perhaps I've been idle too long," Legolas said. "We will find out."

The meeting place was high in the Halls of Thranduil, deep in the king's study. The study itself was more than a room, it was a vast chamber—platforms upon platforms that served their unique purpose. Waterfalls cascaded down the jagged walls surrounding the particular courtyard where they had been summoned, with a table at the center. And there were fewer in attendance than Legolas had expected—five in total. Haldir of Lorien sat beside the captain Heimir of Gondor—the two had become well acquainted during the captain's time in Lorien—and one other man from Gondor, whom Legolas did not recognize. They had already taken their seats at the table.

Worry and toil seemed to age Heimir, though perhaps it was a deeper heaviness that Legolas mistook in his eyes. Haldir set his gaze upon the Prince as he and Galion approached. "I'd revile you for your tardiness if your father wasn't late as well."

"I'm sure he has his reasons," said Legolas.

"He always does."

The Prince turned his attention on the captain, observing him keenly. The last time they had met, Heimir and Legolas were in Lorien. The captain had been climbing the mallorn steps to Estel's room to check on her after she'd gone missing and come up sick.

The captain watched him just as closely, possibly remembering the same thing. "I don't believe I've had the opportunity to extend my thanks for the invitation to your kingdom, your highness." He nodded to the man beside him, a fair-skinned mortal with long, dark hair. "This is my lieutenant, Eremir."

Legolas nodded. "Thank you both for coming. How fares your country?"

Heimir sighed as though gathering a number of thoughts to him. "Ah, Gondor is prosperous," he began as though reciting a report. "Our lands are well-protected. Our villages are thriving and people are well-fed. What more could any leader ask for?"

"A change of scenery, perhaps," Eremir supplied.

"Indeed," said Heimir, throwing a demonstrative glance at their surroundings, tapping his fingers against the stone table. "The kingdom of the Wood Elves is every bit as lush and… large as we had heard."

"Thank you." At that moment, Legolas's father abruptly made his entrance with Lord Elrond in tow. "We must talk more later," he said, to which the captain politely agreed.

"Forgive my lateness," said Thranduil as he approached his seat at the table directly across from Legolas. Yet, despite the apology, there was the ever-present air of apathy in the king's tone. "I am thankful to see you all here, as summoned. Forgive me for distracting you from our festivities."

Indeed, the sound of chattering and laughter carried with the wind. But only an elf would hear the telltale clinking of glasses and pour of fine wine.

There was a murmur of agreement and a pause before the king spoke again, "I hope you have all enjoyed your time in Eryn Lasgalen. As the leaves and grass welcome sunlight each morning, we welcome the light of friendship from all corners of the land." One by one, Thranduil looked upon their faces, pausing over Legolas. "But my purpose in gathering you all this evening is not to discuss our friendships."

Legolas furrowed a brow, already disliking where this was going.

Here we go.

"It is easy to fall blind to the shadows that encroach upon its edges." A faraway look came over Thranduil's face. "Trees are growing mangled in my kingdom beyond the reach of light. So, we find ourselves in a position of looking to our neighbors for help."

Legolas frowned. His father hadn't discussed this with him. Looking at Haldir, the march warden looked unfazed. But it was unnerving to see his father speak in this manner. To watch him… ask for help.

"Mirkwood," spoke the captain of Gondor suddenly. "That is what outsiders have come to call this land."

At that, the only sign of offense that Legolas could find in his father's expression was the lack of one at all—the unyielding gaze with which the king pierced the captain. An icy calm. "Indeed."

"All of them?" Heimir asked again. There was a change to his demeanor—gone was the friendly man, here was the soldier. The captain.

"Name the rumor, and I will confirm or deny it," said the King.

Heimir took a moment to consider it. "They say there's evil brewing in the north. Strange happenings no one has an explanation for. Vile creatures slink out of the shadows and into the daylight," he said. "The kingdoms of the elves have never looked to us for aid before. So what is it you would ask of us, now?"

Thranduil looked utterly unfazed as he spoke, "I desire the Gems of Lasgalen retrieved from the kingdom of Erebor."

Legolas's eyes widened. With horror, confusion—he couldn't discern his emotions at that moment. Amalgamate shock, he might say.

"Erebor," Heimir repeated. "The dwarven kingdom stolen and guarded by a dragon? What gems could be worth disturbing the beast that slumbers in that mountain?"

They were the gems that had once been crafted for Legolas's mother. Killed in Gundabad before she could wear them, Legolas knew his father's pain for never having retrieved them from the dwarves that crafted them. In fact, he understood it keenly. But why was Thranduil mentioning them now?

The King explained, "The Gems of Lasgalen were forged beneath Earendil, and so they are imbibed with the light of the Silmaril—the holiest power captured from the Two Trees of Valinor." Were his mother's jewels forged in Earendil? This was the first Legolas had heard of it. "Note that there are no dwarves present in this council, nor anywhere else in my kingdom. If I were to march upon that mountain to retrieve the gems, or send an agent of my kingdom, there would be more than the wrath of the dragon. But the jewels' retrieval would grant us the power that we need to secure our lands from other evils."

There was silence among them. Legolas had never heard this from his father—he knew only of Thranduil's obsession with retrieving the gems for their sentimental value. Had they been forged beneath Earendil? Did they really bear the light of the ancient, holy Silmaril?

"A lofty favor," Heimir said rather unceremoniously. "You desire these jewels, against what enemy?"

Lord Elrond shifted in his seat but made no sign of his thoughts as the King answered, "Where shadows mist and weave like a poison fog, there are none who can predict where the enemy will gather to show itself. I will protect my kingdom, first, before concerning myself with yours."

An investment in the future, Legolas thought. A manipulative move. Meanwhile, Heimir looked frustrated with his father's riddles.

A strange sort of coldness settled between them—perhaps it was the breeze passing in from the waterfalls.

"Gondor borders the dark kingdom," said Thranduil to Heimir and his lieutenant. "I should expect you to be most motivated to gain my protection."

The captain and lieutenant exchanged offended expressions. "We don't need your protection. We haven't asked for it."

"Yet. Have you accounted for the future?"

"A future that may not come?" Heimir sat back. "You wish to send a man as your agent to Erebor. How would one even enter the mountain kingdom? The front gate is sealed."

"It is not fully sealed," said Thranduil. "The dragon has been seen entering and exiting the mountain over the years."

"So we could use the front entrance yet risk a confrontation with the dragon itself?"

"Yes," Thranduil stated plainly. "You would require no small degree of stealth and delicacy."

"And what makes you think we would succeed?"

"When the wizard Mithrandir visited the Greenwood, he told me as much. The dwarves of Erebor still fear to storm the mountain, but the heroes of the west could surely accomplish that very thing," said Thranduil. "I do not ask for a storm nor a war. I simply ask for this one favor. The heroes of the west are often busy upon their missions and adventures—now that I have gathered you here, you may be set upon one such adventure again."

Heimir laughed. Not a passing chuckle, but a hefty one. Legolas could have sworn he saw disdain and offense in the captain's eyes before he turned his attention to Lord Elrond. "And what about you, Elf-Master? What say you?"

Elrond bore a calm expression, then raised his hand. Upon it was a ring of power. "This is Vilya," he said. "One among three rings of power forged by Celebrimbor, given to me by the Elven-king Gil-galad. I have worn it through the Second Age and into the Third. There is little to be understood about the powers of rings and gems by those who do not bear them. Nor their necessity in times of need." He lowered his hand. "The gems of Lasgalen were forged for the Greenwood. I would see them returned to it."

A fair and even-tempered way of offering his support, Legolas thought. Yet, still, there was a deeper anger brewing in the pit of his stomach. Not once—not once—did his father think to discuss this with Legolas. Clearly.

"I believe the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn would offer their support." Haldir looked at Heimir, and Legolas suddenly understood the purpose of Haldir's presence at this meeting.

Galion cleared his throat quietly, as though understanding the Prince's discomfort with being the last to learn of this endeavor. Galion's purpose here was clearly for Legolas's benefit.

"I ask that you consider it," said Thranduil to the captain. "For now, the promise of that will satisfy me."

What a terrible position to be in. Legolas almost pitied Heimir as he watched the captain stare directly into the Elf-king's eyes, not knowing what to say.

There was a moment of silence before he nodded, then excused himself from the table without another word. His lieutenant followed, leaving the elves to their own company.

Galion gave Legolas a questioning look, understanding that his presence was only allowed because of the Prince. "Forgive me," Legolas began, meeting the King's gaze. "But would you all leave me with my father?"

There was silence. Thranduil sat while Elrond, along with Haldir, rose to leave, down the path that led away from the platform. An even colder air settled between Legolas and his father when Galion left.

"You never told me that mother's gems were forged in the light of Earendil," Legolas said once they were alone. There was only the sound of trickling waterfalls breaking the silence. "You haven't shared any of this with me."

"Is a King obliged to report to his son?"

"I don't know what you're up to," Legolas said. "But I don't buy it. Any of it."

"I am protecting my kingdom," the King answered calmly. "What I have and have not chosen to share with you is for me to decide. Whether or not you believe that is your decision."

"You would endanger all the lands by sending agents into Erebor?"

"It is not endangerment if it is done right. Hunt down the wizard and consult it with him yourself if you don't believe me," said Thranduil. "I would not ask this of anyone if I did not believe it possible."

"Mother's gems—why wouldn't you discuss their retrieval with me?"

"For the same reason I have waited this long to consider it myself," said Thranduil. "The devastation of failure is unyielding. Before giving you hope, I had to be certain it could be done."

A moment of vulnerability. Thranduil was referring to the first time he had tried to take back the gems—Legolas remembered it well. And at that moment, he could detect no signs of ulterior motive from his father. "And you invited me here to do what, exactly?"

"I have a task for you," said the King. "I would have you ensure that the captain agrees to this endeavor."

Silence. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"In your long years of association with mortals, surely you have come to know their ways better than I," said the King.

Legolas furrowed a brow. "Are you referring to Estel?"

"I am referring to whomever I need to refer." His expression grew grave. "See it done, Legolas."

See it done.

Midday hovered above Eryn Lasgalen, casting the Greenwood in golden light and dancing shadows. Wind blew through the branches and carried the sound of conversation with it. Meanwhile, Galion stood at the bottom of the hill where the meeting was held, waiting for Legolas. "Did you speak with him?" the emissary asked.

"Yes," said the Prince, passing by Galion and forcing the elf to follow. "He's asked me to convince the captain to retrieve my mother's gems."

Galion nearly slowed at that. "How?"

"I don't know," said Legolas as they continued to walk through the winding halls. "This is folly. All of it. The Gems of Lasgalen weren't forged in Earendil's light. He's lying to them, and I don't know why."

"If it were folly, wouldn't Elrond have contradicted it?" Galion said. "At the very least, he wouldn't attend the council in support of your father."

Legolas hadn't considered that. While he and Galion walked, Legolas noticed movement in a grove between some trees. Shadows moved across their trunks as five humans gathered around them. There was only one woman among them, and it was she who caught his attention. A pale elven dress set Estel apart from the other humans and the golden-green backdrop of the trees.

Legolas slowed. He had never seen her in the company of humans before, yet here she was. Galion looked in the same direction and realized what caught the Prince's attention. "Is that Estel?" he asked.

Legolas's gaze passed over the others' faces, recognizing Heimir among them. The others were friends of the captain, no doubt. Behind them, Estel sat gracefully upon a stone bench under the sun. Clearly, Heimir had made his presence in Lasgalen known to Estel—or the other way around—and the two had reconnected.

"There is a matter concerning us all," Heimir began, seeming to give in under the pressure of his friends to tell them where he'd gone. "In truth… I don't know what to make of it."

"Well, tell us, then," said the man to his right. "It's not like it was a secret council, was it?"

From where they were, both Legolas and Galion could hear the conversation with their elven senses.

"The Gems of Lasgalen," he said, peering directly at Estel. "King Thranduil wishes for an agent of Gondor to retrieve the necklace from Erebor." Estel kept her mask bound tightly to her face, showing no emotion or hint of her thoughts. Then, as Heimir continued with an account of their meeting, she turned and peered off to the north—toward the Lonely Mountain. "The King must think we would not take the gems for ourselves to serve our own country."

"There would be no point," Estel murmured, and the others looked at her. She hadn't stopped peering to the north. "A human could never use the light of the Silmaril like an elf."

"Some power would be better than none," said Heimir. "And we now know that the front gate of Erebor is penetrable. The wizard Mithrandir has stated it himself."

The look Estel gave him was disapproving. It went unanswered as the others asked the captain more questions. Legolas neared one of the trees with grace and peered down at the circle secretly, listening to their conversation.

"Shall we go down there?" Galion asked. As diplomatic as the emissary was, he too had been eavesdropping on the conversation.

"Why?" While Legolas's gaze was fastened to Estel, his mind still reeled through various answers to his own question.

"Your father tasked you with convincing the captain," he said. "Perhaps you might accomplish that."

Legolas looked at him. "Are you eager to witness some contention between us?"

Galion shot him a pointed stare. "Your father will push for this mission to be done, regardless of what you or I believe about your mother's gems and the light of Earendil," he said. "But did you see the glisten in Estel's eyes? How do you think she will be affected by what she's hearing? Or what she might be enticed to volunteer for?"

It took a brief second to understand what Galion meant, and Legolas immediately started down the path.

He was right. Whether the Gems of Lasgalen were imbibed with the power of the Silmaril or not, whether the captain of Gondor agreed to undertake this task or not—the King would see this through. Who knew if he would object to Estel's participation in it? She wasn't an elf but a member of the Eldar by association. Her mother, after all, was famously the Evenstar. If the risk of war was real, who knew whether the dwarves might care about the technicalities of her birth?

The other humans noticed Legolas and Galion before the captain did. Estel also spared them a look, trying to control her expression. She, alone, sat back and observed them all. Though she wasn't elf-kind, she resembled Legolas and Galion more than the others.

"Mae g'ovannen," said Legolas to the group as he and Galion approached, met with bowed heads. The captain, alone, perched his hands on his hips in frustration. "It seems we've interrupted something."

"Unintentional, no doubt," answered Heimir flatly, looking between Legolas and Galion. Legolas hadn't intended to revile the captain for sharing the meeting with his friends, but it seemed the captain had taken it that way.

It fell to Legolas, then, to appease the tension. "What you discussed with my father is no secret," the Prince said. "I have no criticisms to offer. I merely wish to offer my help."

"What kind of help?"

"My father wouldn't send an elf—or human citizen of an elven domain—for fear of risking war with the dwarves." Legolas looked at Estel when he said that, making his point clear. "But I can aid you in our knowledge of the mountain and the Greenwood. I can share reports of what you may expect to find along the way… should you choose to accept my father's request."

"Why should you assume that I would be the one to do it?" said Heimir. "Do you think I'm lacking in responsibility in Gondor and have nothing better to do with my time?"

The captain was agitated. Legolas shook his head. "No. I make no offensive presumptions," he said. "I'm sure the king would not object if you returned to Gondor and selected a champion there. I'm merely offering my council if you'd like to take it."

A moment passed in silence before the captain sighed. "I have no desire to fulfill your father's wishes, you highness," he said. "Nor do I wish to delegate such a dangerous task to any of my men."

"You've barely taken the time to consider it," said Legolas.

"Yes. And you should know, your highness, that a warrior's first instinct in the face of battle is often the correct one."

"And a strategist's thought is worth the weight of an impulse a thousand times in gold."

Silence.

"We're finished here," said Heimir before storming off, leaving his friends behind.

Estel's eyes were glued to the captain as he exited the circle and made his way down some steps leading into the forest. She rose and followed after him without so much as a backward glance at Legolas.

Thanks for reading! :)