The next day I skip breakfast. I don't feel like eating.

But at lunch time I finish up what I had left in my satchel. I wear the most comfortable and casual dress I could find that is a reddish brown one with sleeves that hug my arms and loop around my middle finger.

The elven maid delivered my cleaned clothes this morning with undergarments that I didn't sleep in last night. I suppose she gathered it this morning while I was sleeping. I slept in late today, the rest of my journey layering in the much needed slumber cocooned in silky fabric.

Last night I finished crying for Ry... all the tears I could produce... to the point where I was so useless I eventually fell asleep.

I feel better today... maybe even move-on better. The way I see it is the way I have learned to greave over the years. Things happen that I can't stop. But that doesn't mean I should waste my life and live in the darkness because of it.

I could swallow myself with the pain of Ryohnin, like I could with my family, but what good does that do? They are looking over me right now. And I will show them what I can do with my life to make them proud.

Legolas is right. Ry wouldn't have saved my life so that I could drown in sorrow forever. He would want me to live again.

Ryohnin gave his life to save me and my world, and I am going to return the favor.

After spending the morning alone in my chamber distracting myself with a few books I grabbed from the library that is a shelf in the room, I feel like I should get out after lunch.

I pull the top of my hair back into two braids that meet at the back of my head and leave my chamber. I don't make eye contact with any other elves as I walk down the stone steps against the chasm wall.

I look around me at the structure carved out of the mountain. It's bigger than I ever thought a cave could be. But I suppose I haven't seen many caves—at least ones that are bright enough to tell how large it is.

There isn't much noise in here. I mean I do hear people talking but besides that it still feels surreal. Either way, I show that I am mortal by the way I walk through the caverns, being graceful for my people but probably too mundane for these angelic robots.

I pass the throne room, looking at the lonely chair to see the king not in it.

I think nothing more but continue through the hallway—my head hits flesh and a hard body and I stumble back, realizing how fast I had been walking. I widen my eyes at King Thranduil who stands there before me. What have I just done?

"Oh, my lord I am so sorry. Please forgive me," I beg shamefully.

"Save your breath, my lady. It was merely an accident," he says dryly with a plain expression.

I want to just tell him everything right there and apologize more times than my mouth would be able to speak... but I just look up at him like a guilty puppy, looking so disappointed in myself for everything I have caused and staying here... and then running into him like that. What could be worse?

"I..." I start, almost wanting to crawl into a ball with shame and sadness. But I have to keep myself together. I remember what I told myself. Wallowing in pity will not make anyone including myself feel better. "I'm sorry about everything, your grace..." I mutter to him.

He stares at me and then understands what I am referring to. "...All things happen for reasons that we may not know of. Even the darkest of events has a glorious purpose, Lady Vilora," he speaks quietly and more gently than before, but his voice is still hard and not surrendered completely. "It is not by our doing that bad things happen. But destiny is something we cannot steer..."

In a way he was forgiving me. And I think he means that he knows it wasn't my fault what happened to his son. I can't believe that he isn't even mad at me a little... I guess I underestimated his wisdom.

"Do not let your heart be troubled any longer, Lady Vilora."

I slowly nod, not able to think of what to say to him.

He places a hand at his heart and bows politely before continuing down his path he was traveling before.

I breathe... feeling a little better but not completely.

I walk idly around the realm until I find large closed doors... I hesitate... Should I enter? Would I be royally flogged?

I press my ear to the door to make sure no one is in there and I hear nothing. I check both ways around me before I take the door handle and carefully turn it. I swing open the silent door to see a huge library inside.

Walking in, my eyes search up the shelves of thousands of books. I smile and approach the collection, running my finger over the bindings, pulling out a pale brown book and attempting to read the cover... but it's in foreign.

I sigh and try to slip it back on the shelf but being clumsy I end up dropping it to the floor.

As I am about to pick it up another hand lifts it for me and dusts it off gracefully. I look up at the tall elf before me with dark hair and gaunt cheeks, with a cute side grin and brown eyes.

"Sorry I didn't damage that did I?" I make a slightly pained look.

"Not at all, my lady," he chuckles and hands it back to me.

I hold it in my hands against my stomach. "Thank you."

He smiles. "It has been a long time since we had anyone from south in these borders."

"Why is that?"

"Well out king is well known for not seeming as inviting as others. But also because there have not been many travelers to make it this far if they try."

"Dangerous roads are they?"

"Very much so."

"Well then how am I ever to leave?" I play with him.

"I am afraid you are stuck in this realm, my lady," he returns, amused.

"Well this sucks."

He chuckles.

Did I really just say that to elves in the dark ages? Oh well. It did make him laugh.

I shake my head and smile. "Um I am Vil. What can I call you?"

"You may call me Kel, my lady. Good friends do."

"Does that mean I'm a good friend?"

"Perhaps in the future you will be."

I shrug with a grin.

"Can you read elvish?"

I lift my brows but then realize he gestures to the book. I lift it to observe the cover. "Oh uh no I can't. I don't suppose you have any in my language do you?"

"We do. Come. We shall find one for you," he says politely.

I smile and put the book back with the others. I follow him as he walks down the row in search of an English story.

I actually end up spending the rest of the day in there with him talking, and reading some books in my tongue.

It's nice to meet someone here that doesn't give me a form of anxiety. He and I can be good friends like he suggests. At least I hope. I would love to have someone here that I can talk to without worrying about being too proper like talking to the king and his son.

"I will see you again, Lady Vil?"

"Alright if we're going to be friends you must call me Vil. And I shall call you Kel, is that clear?" I say but smile so he's not offended.

"Yes, my lady."

"Wow you stink at this."

"What?"

"I mean... just call me Vil."

He laughs. "Very well. 'Quel undome, Vil."

"Which means?"

He smiles. "Good evening."

"Oh well then 'Que—q... good evening to you too." I curtsy amusingly as he bows.

I leave him there with two more books in hand and walk down the hall, feeling better than I did before.

Late day sun peeks into the chasm and I think then that it must be dinner time. I better hurry then.

As I walk down the stone I hear hushed, but angry speaking.

I slow down and listen to try and make out the voices.

It's Thranduil and Prince Legolas.

The argument and heated speaking lasts for a little moment longer and then I hear someone leaving.

I wait a few minutes before walking by, not wanting anyone to think I was listening. I don't know who is left in the room but I make my expression casual and walk up to my chambers.

Legolas is the only one not present at dinner.

His father looks proper and hard like a statue, like he always does.

I don't speak to him, or anyone. Kel is there at dinner. I didn't know he was a high elf...

Anyway I leave after dinner, not saying a word and settling in my bed to read one of the books.

After a few minutes of story skimming I hear something quiet out the window in my room. I stop and listen... but then get back to reading.

I hear something else and—curiosity killed the cat I know but I can't help it—I stand up and close my book. I grab my pistol and hide it in my belt pouch for comfort. I slip out my chamber and down the steps, my feet quiet but still almost echoing in the halls.

I make my way past other elves that retire and open the doors that lead outside. I travel past the trees and around to the side of the mountain I had been before the other night, my eyes alert, worried that whatever is making this sound could possibly be dangerous.

But I let the breeze carry my skirt and hair behind me and soon see a sack cloth thing with a helmet on, an arrow stuck in its torso. I see a few more and then notice Prince Legolas there, firing at dummies, trees, and targets with a rage I have not yet seen. He is back in his previous outfit and weapons as when I first saw him. But he fights incredibly with smooth, sure motions and tremendous speed. I have never seen anyone fire arrows as accurately and quickly as he. But he pulls out two knives from his back and chops off the arm of a dummy and the head of another.

He seems troubled and spins around to fire one last arrow at the target behind him, missing the bulls-eye just slightly. Because of that he seems like he realizes he is upset and looks innocently at the target.

I pull out my gun from my pocket, cock it, aim, and fire at the target, hitting it in the dead center.

He jumps when I do though, his head flashing back at me with an utterly startled expression.

I can't help but crack a laugh.

He hesitates, still looking confused and fearful as this weapon is completely unknown to them.

"It's a gun," I say holding it up. "The weapons of my world are much quicker than the ones of yours."

He cocks his head. "May I see it?"

I smile and walk up to him. When I am up close to him I hand him my weapon after I take his bow from him.

He looks at it confusingly and doesn't know how to hold it.

I chuckle but try to keep laughter to a minimum.

He plays with it and observes the different parts of the strange alien war tool.

"Here," I giggle and put it in the palm of his right hand, fixing his fingers to where they should be—when I touch him I feel that anxiety come back and his awkward rigidness doesn't help—, both of us almost chuckling. I wrap his fingers around the handle, his skin on the back of his hand feeling so smooth and soft, with no sign of age. My fingers want to stay there but I let go but his intimidating gaze makes me do just that. "Alright pull your arm up and aim at the target," I say to him with laughter still in my voice.

He holds it awkwardly and still doesn't know really how to handle it.

"Since you haven't shot before you might want to put your other hand here," I pick up his wrist and place his hand around the other one. "Brace your shoulders and look down the top here," I tell him. "And pull this back." I point to the top of it.

He pulls it closer and looks confusingly at it. "The whole thing just..." I start when he places a hand on it and then pulls it back, being stronger than he looks. I mean he looks strong but he just still surprised me is all. He isn't as large as his father still. I watch as he aims again with locked arms, muscles flexed... well from what I can tell.

"Alright pull the trigger, boy." I stand a bit further back and cross my arms. Can't wait to see this.

To my surprise, when he pulls it, it hits the spot where mine did, the bull's-eye. But he flinches when he fires, frowning and looking at the gun innocently. He looks up and walks to the target, observing the spot where it hit with his finger, confused as to why there seems to be nothing there. "Incredible..." he mutters. Then he looks back at my excitedly. "How does it work?"

I laugh and walk up to him. He hands me my pistol and I slip out the clip of ammunition. He looks like a little child in wonder as I show him. I pull out one bullet, realizing that I only have five left in total, and show him. He looks in awe of it.

"This is what is fired," I say, carefully holding the tiny golden rocket in my fingers.

I hold back a smile when he looks at it. I toss it to him and he fiddles with it in his fingers. "How is it fired?" he looks up at me with anticipation.

I laugh. "The bullet goes up here," I say with pointing fingers. I explain the process of all that goes on in this compact handgun and how it is used.

As I speak he listens intensely and I don't realize, when I am done explaining, that his head is but an inch from mine, both of us just looking at my pistol. My hands tense up when I notice this though he seems perfectly fine. I hold out my hand and he places the bullet back in my palm. I stick it into the clip and slip it into the handle of the gun.

"May I try again?" he asks anxiously.

"Sure. There's not enough ammo to help me in the future anyway. And I'll need to get some new weapons; the kind of your people."

He cocks it again and aims, firing without flinching this time. He lowers it and removes his hand, observing his palm with confusion, pressing his eyebrows together.

"Yeah it makes your hands a little raw at first. I remember when I first shot it made my hands so red I couldn't feel them for a while."

"At what age?" he asks when he looks up at me, those big blue eyes looking into mine.

"Seven," I say, looking down.

He approaches me and gives me back my weapon gently. Then he takes a seat among the roots of a huge tree, looking into the sky with thought. "Eight was when I shot my first arrow," he says. "I have had the heart of an archer ever since..."

From how he talks I can tell he doesn't have many people to share real conversations with. Then it looks like we already have something in common.

I put my gun down on the ground and sit by a large root, resting my back against the same, enormous tree as him. "How old are you?" I ask.

"Almost three thousand years."

I cough out the water I was drinking from my flask from Bree, but clearing my throat and swallowing the rest.

He looks at me in a concerned way, a bit confused.

I chuckle at myself. "How long do you live?"

"Elves are immortal."

"Well that's convenient," I smirk.

He chuckles.

"I'm twenty-three." That is all I say for a few minutes. After a pause I gaze up at the branches as the last of the sunlight beams through the leaves. "It's so beautiful here, much different than my world is."

"These forests weren't always growing like they are now. They were once cursed, dark and full of shadow..."

"What made it come back?" I look at him.

He returns my gaze, the light kissing his perfectly smooth cheeks and leaving a sparkle in his eyes. I am so close I can count each hair on his brows. "A great evil used to live here... and took refuge in an old fortress. When it was banished into the east and its forces were scattered, the woods became free of the curse from its presence." He speaks like a poem, every word can be written into a beautiful book.

I hesitate, not knowing how to respond but almost wanting to fall asleep from his so calming voice... "And who did that banishing?"

"A great friend of our kin was mostly responsible for it..." he says, looking away and thinking.

There is a silence between us, but not an awkward one. We listen to the leaves blow and the late evening birds sing until the darkness silences them.

"...So where are you going tomorrow?" I ask quietly, biting my lip and fiddling with my fingers.

"Lord Elrond has decreed that each district of Middle Earth is to be represented at the Council in Rivendell. I am to appear for the Woodland Realm."

"Is King Thranduil going?"

"I am. So there is no need..." though he hesitates to explain further, still keeping his gaze at the ground and not me.

"What is the meeting for?"

He just laughs and shakes his head, not telling me. I guess that's classified.

"Oh, sorry I asked," I snort. But I do feel embarrassed a bit. Talking to him seems like talking to an angel I swear; a charming and intimidating angel I will always feel insecure compared to him...

"It is alright," he chuckles. "I am just not allowed to give such information to strangers."

"...Does it have anything to do with the black riders that showed up in Hobbiton?" I lift a brow.

He looks at me, surprised I would know I suppose. His silence reassures me that I'm right.

"What is that little hobbit carrying, my lord?" I whisper, almost in worry for the boy who seems like a child—perhaps it's just his size.

"...Something that would either destroy this world or save it..." he whispers back. He is just as worried about this mysterious object is.

"Is that it? I almost died because of it, surely you owe me to explain more. Can't you at least tell me what it is?"

"A ring... forged by the dark lord Sauron himself..." he says hesitantly, as if there would be listeners nearby. But you can't bug places here so I doubt there are any. "If he obtains it... he can end this war in his favor."

"Sounds like you guys have it just as bad as my world did. But we lost." But that must be why he's going to Rivendell, which means Frodo and his friends are alive, along with Strider who was leading them there. That I am grateful for.

"I do worry for our fate..." he breathes.

"Have faith. Everything will be alright. Our world had it coming. But I feel that this place will turn out with a better ending." I don't completely agree with my words just because I don't know how their war will play out but I try to sound convincing.

"I certainly hope so, Lady Vilora."

"Me too, Lord Legolas," I retaliate his formality.

He smiles at this when he can tell I am amused and he looks down.

I look back at the forest before us. There is a silence and then something comes to me. "Soooo... how long will you be gone?"

He breathes a quiet laugh and finally looks at me with stars in his big eyes. "That I do not know."

"Oh, well I hope you'll be back soon—..." I mutter and trail off into silence with my eyes on the ground. When he does not answer I look up to see his eyes locked at mine, an adorable amused closed mouthed smile on his face that wants me to continue what I was saying.

I bite my lip, looking at my feet as I feel embarrassed heat rush to my cheeks.

"You are different, Vilora, than my kin."

"Is that a bad thing?" I frown.

He chuckles but looks into the distance. "Of course not, my lady... It is rather... congenial... and slightly refreshing."

I smile at him and look away, not knowing how to respond I suppose. "Thank you so much, you and your father, you have made me feel so welcome here when I have no other place to go. Never in my entire life have I been somewhere where I don't have to carry a weapon around all the time in case someone would stab me from behind. I feel very at home here so thank you."

He doesn't speak for a few seconds so I glance at him to see a concerned look in his innocent eyes. He doesn't seem to be used to people opening up to him I suppose. And being a prince he probably doesn't understand the kind of life I am used to living. "Amin saesa, arwen en amin," he speaks softly and humbly.

"Um... so what did you just say?"

He chuckles. "Apologies. I said, 'It was my pleasure, my lady'." He has a sweet smile but when I return it he looks regretful and looks away, trying to hold in a smile. I catch a glimpse of rosy red cheeks. He looks down and plays with the bow in his hands nervously.

That's also when I notice that the sun has completely disappeared for a while now. But there is a beautiful blue glow about the enchanted forest.

"Well, I guess I should be getting back inside now, will I see you again before you leave?"

He hesitates. Then he looks at me with a squint in his eyes. "I do not think so."

"Oh, well goodbye," I say almost with a lump in my throat, standing up. "I hope your journey is safe Pri—uh Legolas. May you return safe... and soon."

He looks taken aback from my sadness. Clearly he can read me like Ry could. Which seems strange because I have only known him for two days. He stands to his feet and approaches me. "Do not fret, my lady. I will return in time. Though it is my duty to fight in this war, to protect my people..."

"Thought you promised to call me Vilora," I make a playful smile.

He smiles, the moonlight highlighting his perfect cheekbones and adorable but subtle dimples. He looks down and takes my hand. "Until next time... Goodnight Vilora," he bows slightly then places his soft, velvet lips on my hand gently.

I feel the blood rush to my cheeks and I look down, hiding a shy smile. After I regain my composure I look back up at the charming elf. "Goodnight, Legolas," I whisper.

When I return to my room I shut the door tightly, sliding down it until by butt touches the floor, hearing my heart beat in my ears and biting my lip. I want to giggle but stop myself. I know that it is unlikely I will see him again, at least for a long while. But I also need to keep myself restrained. I have failed. I told myself I wouldn't let anyone be close to me but I have fallen in the charming eyes of another elf. I mean I'm most certainly not in love or anything. But he's so cute. And I blushed. Which means that it's a threat. But at the same time, however, all of these elves are quite cute and they all make me nervous.

I can't. I can't do it. I have to stop the seed before it is planted. I need to save my heart for someone who won't leave it behind. I cannot thrust myself at anyone. That only leads to heart ache. This was just a dream. And nothing more.

I breathe and put on a night gown, slipping under the incredibly soft sheets after blowing out the candles and immediately falling into a deep sleep.

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