The elf man leads me up winding staircases of auburn stone and I pass other elves who... yes still look at me like I'm an alien. The room I am introduced to is I suppose the same as the other High Elves but it looks like a fairy's paradise. The walls are made of stone, but are carved so beautifully that it is completely smooth and rounded with designs that resemble branches and leaves, and winding roots. The walls curve in around the room and the floor is just as smooth.

I enter and the servant leaves. I see the bed in the corner carved from woods to look like great antlers and a beautiful bed frame. The sheets seem to be made of silk or something perhaps softer. I have never even touched silk in my life. But when I trace my fingers across the fabric I only think of what my mother told me about it.

I look up to see a candle chandelier at the ceiling and a wooden wardrobe on the south wall. There is a private loo with a royal bath tub inside, carved out of the smooth stone. The whole place just makes me think of a fantasy land. Every little girl's dream... well most anyway.

I look up when I feel a breeze and notice a hole, a skylight perhaps, in the ceiling that revealing white light from the late day sun.

I look over my shoulder when I sense a presence. There stand two elven women of a lower rank perhaps. They hold pitchers of water in their hands. "My lady. We were ordered to draw you a bath," one says with a bow.

"Oh yes that would be very nice thank you," I respond with much gratitude.

They enter and once the bath is ready they leave. I make sure the door is shut tightly then pull off my jacket and toss it on the bed. I strip out of my shirt, boots, and trousers, tossing them aside. I don't think I can wear them again. Plus what is the point if no one else does. I'll have to start wearing what these elves wear.

I unwrap the bandage on my arm and reveal where that travelor knifed me. It's only a scab now.

I stand there after I take a breath and stare at my reflection in the tall mirror, looking over my fair-but dirt covered-skin and wavy white hair that reaches past my chest. I was built to survive an apocalypse. My body has always been able to retain muscle and the right amount of fat to survive. I suppose I still need to eat more. But I am not too defeated by my figure, not too thin. I have muscles on my arms and legs, large hips and chest, with small but toned waist, and little hands and feet. Ryohnin always said that no matter how tough I tried to be, my hands were always so dainty looking to him, said they still showed a glimpse of a child in me. An odd observation, but I seem to saver his words now that he is no longer here to say them.

Which reminds me that like his family, my eyebrows are dark to not match my hair, and a little thick as well. I liked them that way.

I strip off my undergarments and toss them aside in the room before I walk into the small room that is filled with steam from the hot water.

I remember stories my mum would tell me of when women would have to shave their skin, using a blade to constantly remove body hair. It sounds time consuming. In the year 2087 they had invented a lotion you spread on your skin that kills the hair and remarkably makes it so that it would never come back. So us girls used it on our faces, legs, and some on their arms or anywhere else at age thirteen and never had to worry about it again.

So I, unlike the people here probably, am completely hairless all over... except my head and brows obviously. And then it hits me, perhaps these elves are the same way. I didn't see one of them with any kind of facial hair at all.

I step into the pool carved into the stone and let the warm water soothe my weary body. My skin hasn't been cleaned in a while. I look to the glass bottles of soap that sit on a wooden tray and pick one up, sniffing it. I didn't think it would smell that good, to be honest but the smell of peaches perhaps it is, fills my lungs. I use that to scrub my body of the dirt. I pull out the braids that held my hair back for so long and run my fingers through my entanglement. I pick up another glass bottle closed with a cork and use it to clean my long, white blonde locks.

Once I do that I put my head back and relax. This has to be a dream. If it wasn't for the death of Ryohnin still drowning my thoughts I would think I was in fact dreaming. So much has happened in so little time that it feels strange. This place is palace. A fantasy world. This life that the elves live is so different from the life I was used to living. It's a vacation. What do they do around here? Besides Sauron's army growing do they really have to fight like I have? I have learned to survive over the years but never to live in peace. It makes me feel strange but I try to enjoy it. I am not sure how long I have here but I do feel a bit at home. And it has been a long time since I felt that way.

The water gets cold soon and I stand to my feet. I pull off a tremendously soft cloth from the shelf and dry off with it. It feels so good to be clean. I squeeze my long hair in the fabric until it is vacant of water, it curling into small waves again naturally. I walk from the small room into the larger one, not even feeling chilly. But I walk to the wardrobe. Inside there are many dresses, tunics, and trousers. I suppose this room is uni-sex.

I pull out a velvet dress that is a beautiful navy blue color with a gold trim. Simple and long sleeved with a draping skirt that reaches the floor. I clip on my brazier and pull on my undergarments then slip the dress over me. The collar is a low but not too low at all. I don't think I have ever worn a dress in my life. It feels weird for my legs to be bare under it.

When my hair is dry I pull it into four thick braids that meet at the back of my head and I clip them with metal rings from the small chest on the vanity, letting curly locks flow down my back. Now being in these clothes I do not feel out of place.

Then a knock on my door startles me. I get up, straighten my gown, and walk over to it, not sure who will be there. But I open the heavy door to find the elf who originally escorted me standing there politely. "My lord, King Thranduil invites you to dinner, my lady," he bows with a hand at his heart.

"Oh yes, uh, thank you," I make a quick bow and follow him out the door.
He takes me down the stairs and under the throne room. We walk around the outer wall and come to the large stairs leading down to the dining hall, on the west wing. The light from the setting sun leaks through holes in the stone and lights up the sanctum.

He leaves there and I gulp nervously, gently stepping down the steps into the hall, which is a large and open room. The long table is empty and the elves stand around with beautiful glass goblets in their hands, drinking wine. There aren't too many women, most of them are men of a high rank. But still there are a few high elf women who mingle with the men.

My eyes flash over the sea of faces, well there aren't that many but they are all unfamiliar to me, my eyes catch a few gazes my direction, them probably wondering who I am, considering I am a completely new face and something tells me they don't get a lot of visitors.

The only pair of eyes I recognize are that of the prince who now carries no bow and wears a silver tunic and nicer trousers.

He was speaking with another elf but his eyes glance at me twice while he speaks.

I wonder where King Thranduil is. And I wonder if he has told his son about me or about the passing of his brother. Since the prince looks fairly peaceful I assume he knows nothing. But where is the king?

My feet touch the cold stone floor and I hesitate. They all visit with each other with soft voices. They all sound like angels.

I feel very nervous and out of place again. I guess the dress didn't help. I don't really know what to do so I try to casually make my way towards the wine.

A familiar voice makes me look left. King Thranduil enters the hall and immediately changes the attitude in the room... if there was one.

But there's something in his eyes that makes me think... I have always had good eyesight and I can tell that they look almost... red. Had he been crying perhaps? I mean I wouldn't be surprised. He had just heard that his son had died. But he seems to act just as normal as before, better than even I am at masking my feelings.

I slowly but surely make my way to him. Since he is the only one I know here and also the only one who knows I am an alien to this realm (and a human). I stay close to him... uhh casually that is. Okay it's actually a bit awkwardly. But who cares?

The two of stand there facing the room with silence. He had just been speaking to someone but they moved on the visit with someone else. So it's just us with an awkward quiet.

"Sooo..." I exaggerate. "Who am I aloud to talk to?" I look at him with eyebrows raised.

He glances at me and then holds back a snicker. "Come, I will introduce you to my son. But he knows not of who you are so do not tell him." He walks gracefully forward to where Prince Legolas stands, looking down into his glass curiously, by the wine barrel.

I swallow anxiously and feel my palms get sweaty as we approach him. He is tall too, not as tall as his skyscraper father but enough to intimidate me.

He looks up, only glancing at me for a second then looking at his father. He turns and stands politely to him, as is probably expected.

"Legolas, have you met our honored guest? She is a friend of our kin but hails from far south." he gestures to me with a hand.

I feel a cold chill down my spine when he said "honored guest". Wait, does this mean that everyone already knows that I'm an alien? I do the liberty of introducing myself. I hold out my hand. "Vilora..." I realize there is nothing else to say in regards to my title. I cannot even remember my last name. "Stormborn," I blurt out. I try not to frown when I digest what I'm doing or saying. I feel like a fool.

He looks down at my hand, pressing his thin dark eyebrows together a bit. I hold my breath out of nerves and he still doesn't do anything. But he looks up at me strangely, hesitant.

I awkwardly put my hand back at my side.

"Good evening, Lady Vilora. Legolas Greenleaf," he makes a small proper bow. There is a spark in his eye. There is only a hint of a smile on the prince's face.

"Good evening, Mister Gr-my lord... sire." I smile awkwardly and notice the king has disappeared. Crap.

"Would you like a drink, my lady?" he asks to be polite.

"Uh, oh, um yes, thank you. Uh please," I stutter, making a face when he turns around that he cannot see. But he pours a drink elegantly for me in one of those beautiful glass goblets. He turns and hands it to me. I hide the fact that my hands shake a bit and take the glass from him. When I take a sip it is ten times more delicious than the ale I had at the Prancing Pony and most definitely more tasteful than anything I hade on earth.

"Th-thank you, your majesty," I say but immediately close my eyes in regret.

An amused smile spreads across his lips. He holds back a laugh and takes a drink from his own goblet.

I face the room.

After a moment of silence there is a moment of panic. I should say something but what? Anything! "I really hope I don't drink too much of this, I mean normally I drink pretty crappy stuff in the streets--but not 'streets' as in I lap it from the ground, but I don't get much wine at home and this is--well normally I pass out from whiskey but not this--uh you know not all the time but--" I ramble on and realize I have completely embarrassed myself and am talking like someone from home and saying things that he doesn't understand and utterly making a fool out of myself. I swallow and immediately close my mouth awkwardly.

Only when I look up to see him actually chuckling at me with a cute smile on his face and kind eyes. I notice that he actually has slight dimples in his cheeks. "Well I can tell you are not of elf kin, Lady Vilora," he says nicely and amused.

I can tell that my expression changes and not for the better. I look down at my drink and take another sip, avoiding eye contact.

"Please, you will not need to address me as royalty, either. I prefer to be called Legolas, my lady."

"Right... and you can call me Vil. Everyone always did..." I mutter.

"Please do not feel anxious, my lady. There is no reason you should not be yourself."

"Please don't call me 'my lady' and I won't," I smirk.

He makes a pained look. "Sorry old habits." But he looks back into my eyes and smiles.

"I'm sorry if I don't... act like one of you I... this is all so new to me. Where I'm from we don't make company of angels--uh not--I mean you all just seem so--I'll stop talking."

He is chuckling with eyebrows raised after I said 'angels'. Clearly he is amused by the way I behave. But he knows that I am from a different realm because of what his father had said. He is about to speak but then the king taps his glass for everyone to gather at the table.

Legolas bows and leaves me, walking to the table.

Great. I have made an absolute fool of myself without getting to fix my image. The prince probably thinks I'm a wanker. Why can't I ever act normal? Is it because I have never needed to my entire life? I haven't met anyone new in so long and I don't seem to know what is proper. How do you make small talk? Well tonight has proven that I can't. And I would be better off just keeping quiet. Maybe I can pull off the mysterious physique.

Legolas probably just treated me so kindly because as the prince I suppose that is necessary, to be polite. Or maybe his laughter was mocking... who knows.

But I need to just keep my mouth shut.

The only chair left where no elf stands in front of is the one on the left side of the king, as he sits at the end of the long table. I bring my glass and set it at the spot in front of the empty chair. Once the servants bring in platters of food and set them down we take a seat. Ripe fruits and perfect vegetables in bowls, salad and bread as well... but there's no meat. Are elves vegetarians? I suppose so.

But I don't complain. I take a little of everything to taste. And when I do it tastes amazing. I don't think I have ever had good fruit or any kind of salad. But this makes my mouth sing. The food is so rich with flavor that I do not pay attention to anyone around me or anything but the taste. Although I keep good enough manners, at least better than the manners I had at the Prancing Pony but at that place there was no one to impress.

The only thing that can be heard while we eat is the music of the elves played by harp I think. I make sure that no one can hear me chew as I cannot hear anyone else. I don't even make eye contact, until I feel like I am being watched. I look up to see Legolas giving me an amused smile because of the way I act, which is so awkward. I guess I am more out of place than I thought. But when our eyes meet I look back at my plate with nervousness.

His face is mesmerizing; one I want to stare at all day, not a single complain-able feature in it. He has a perfect nose, perfect cheeks, perfect eyes, perfect brows, perfect lips... In fact I could search him up and down for hours and find absolutely not even the tiniest of flaws.

Some small talk goes about the dinner table but not much. And we finish quite quickly. There isn't really any visiting afterwards as others return to their duties and soon prepare for bed. I am left to find my way back to my room. But as I leave I overhear Thranduil ask his son to speak with him privately. Oh no. I think of that adorable smile and innocent, large eyes of the prince and cringe when I think of him hearing about the death of his brother.

But I leave as to not be caught eavesdropping. I make my way heavily to my room, feeling completely guilty on the way... If I hadn't closed that door he'd still be alive. This was my fault. That fact drowns me to the point where I feel sick as I sit in my room on the floor, my knees up by my face as I stare at the ground. I had torn my hair from its up-do and it flows down onto my shoulders.

My fault... I'm here staying in the palace of the man who's son I killed. He showed me kindness when I don't deserve it. I deserve to die... I should have died instead.

I shut my eyes and let my forehead hit my knees, the burning behind my eyes making me quiver. I clutch my legs tightly.

And after a long while I stop feeling sorry for myself and think of a way to do anything I can for them. I owe them my life...

I sit there... for a while until I feel claustrophobic. I stand up and pull off my dress. I sit on my bed with my hands on my face in agony... I need to go outside. I walk to my wardrobe and open it to find a thicker dress for the chill of autumn. I slip into an army green, long sleeved one with a hood and copper trimming and bands around the arms. The collar is higher on this dress as well. I slip on my boots under that, although you can't see my feet anyway, but it keeps them warm. I head quietly down the stairs and to the doors.

Once outside I roam around in the woods, to the west side of the mountain, into the trees with idleness. But breathing in the fresh air made me feel better.

I stop when I see a figure sitting on the tree branch, his back against the trunk... long blonde hair and silver tunic. It's the prince, probably out here for the same reason I am.

Does he know I'm here?

I try to take a step back.

"You are not from the south are you?" he asks quietly, his voice harsh like his father's, as he looks ahead of him still.

The moonlight highlights his perfect cheek bones that sink in just a hint, his thin lips complimenting them.

I want to speak, but I can't find the will... I worry that as soon as I open my mouth I might cry.

The silence reassures him of my answer.

He messes with something small in his hands and looks down hesitantly. "You knew my brother?" he sounds a bit more broken now... but his voice is still a flowing river, even when harsh.

"I did..." I mutter.

He doesn't say anything.

"He was... like a brother to me. I loved him very much..."

"I'll never forget the day he left us..." he looks up now, ahead of him again. "He said to me... 'Our world is at peace. And it is time I help one that is not...'."

I try to be serious but tears burn in my eyes. I look to the left. "If only he had stayed," I breathe. "I would be dead instead of him." I swallow the lump in my delicate throat.

He finally turns to look at me. I see his sensitive gaze from the corner of my eye, his soft brows pressed together.

"I don't deserve to be here right now..." I whisper, my voice cracking.

He gets down from the tree without making a sound and turns, now facing me. He is about ten feet from me and hesitates. "Words cannot express how much my heart misses my brother..." he says quietly while looking at the ground. He looks up at me now "But if he gave his life to save you... then you do deserve to be here."

I look up at him, my eyes glazed with salt water.

He stares with his brow almost relaxed again. But I still can't see the elf I met in the dining hall. His eyes are purple under the blue light of the moon.

There is a silence between us before I speak again. "I owe you and your father my life. I will forever... do anything I possibly can to..."

"I do not think Ryohnin would want you to spend your life paying a debt you do not owe, Lady Vilora..."

I stare at him, a look of sadness still on my face, but humble.

He bows his head to me slowly, excusing himself before he begins walking back to his kingdom.

I stand there staring after where he left... feeling heavy but somehow not as much... I feel forgiven by them, but I have not forgiven myself. He doesn't know what happened. Would I ever tell him? He would never want anything to do with me if I did. My heart still longs for Ry and weeps for his family in so much pain. I close my eyes and hang my head slightly, the wind carrying my white locks across my lips.

A tear falls from my lashes.

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