Alright, here's another chapter...I hope you like it.

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Legolas stared at his reflection in the mirror with dull eyes as he braided his hair, readying himself for the trip to Ithilien.

The halls of the White Castle were still buzzing with the gossip about the corpse of the Elven messenger discovered in the courtyard, hanging from the White Tree of Gondor. Aragorn had been with his Council until a late hour, discussing the matter, and left early this morning before Legolas had awoken.

The Elf let out a sigh as he stood up and continued to dress. It had been quite some time since he had last donned his forest-green travelling garments, forsaking the regal attire that he usually wore. As he fastened his twin knives on his back and slung his bow and quiver over his shoulders, he hesitated, eyeing the armour he had chosen to leave behind. Despite the looming danger, he consciously chose to forgo wearing it, fully aware that this decision would likely be met with disapproval from various quarters. Still, his light travelling clothes felt more comfortable and familiar than the weight of armour. For the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of freedom, as though the trip to Ithilien offered a brief escape from the suffocating tension in Minas Tirith. Yet, the thought that an evil force was skulking in the shadows, biding its time to unleash chaos, sent a chilling shiver down his spine. As a warrior, he was no stranger to peril. He was unafraid of death. He had witnessed too many lives end at the hands of evil creatures and was determined to do everything possible to protect the innocent. But now, with evil affecting his family and loved ones, it was time to take action. The freedom he felt was fragile, and he knew it.

The door opened, and Aragorn entered the bedroom.

"Are you ready?" the man asked.

Legolas nodded and picked up his cloak, putting it on.

"I'm ready."

"Aren't you wearing an armour?" Aragorn asked, his tone tinged with concern.

"No," Legolas replied. "But don't worry. I'm wearing a Mithril Coat under my clothes, which Gimli gifted me."

"Yes, but an armour—"

"I don't need an armour," Legolas interrupted. "Have the horses been prepared?"

"Yes," Aragorn replied with a sigh. "Everyone is waiting for you."

Legolas forced a smile and walked towards the door.

"Let's go, then."

However, Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder before he left the room.

"I know you want to stay and help me in this situation," he said. "However, catching the Elf behind this is the only way to ensure your safety. With him in our hands, I can arrest the conspirator Lords. You are the only one who can stop him."

"I know," the Elf replied, his voice softer now, the weight of his responsibilities settling on him.

The man smiled and patted his shoulder.

"Come back soon. Your kingdom and I are waiting for your return."

Legolas stared at Aragorn's grey eyes, seeing only love and adoration. The bond between them was strong, yet Legolas couldn't shake the doubts clouding his mind.

"You're not going to make this easy on me, are you?" he asked softly.

"I'm not known for giving up so easily," Aragorn said with a smile.

"But you promised," Legolas whispered.

"I promised to let you go," Aragorn replied. "I didn't promise to stop trying to change your mind."

"Aragorn, please..." Legolas's voice trembled slightly, betraying the inner turmoil he felt.

"I will wait for your return," Aragorn said, stepping back. "Let's talk then."

Legolas stared at the man before he smiled teasingly.

"If you want me to return, you should come and meet me in Ithilien instead of waiting for my return, then," he said. "For I may decide to leave to Mirkwood after this matter is solved instead of returning to Minas Tirith."

"You know I'll be more than happy to follow you anywhere you want," the man said as he pulled Legolas closer and pressed his lips against his husband's forehead.

Legolas sighed and pulled away, leaving the room. But as he walked down the halls, the weight of his unresolved feelings began to press down on him.

"Legolas," Aragorn called from behind him, and the Elf stopped and turned around to face him. "Please be careful."

The Elf smiled softly and nodded before turning back and leaving.

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The party travelling to Ithilien stood in front of the Castle's gate, saying their goodbyes to Elrond, Glorfindel, and Thranduil.

Legolas, with clouded eyes, watched as Aragorn planted a soft, brief kiss on his lips, the warmth of the man's touch barely suppressing a shiver down his spine. Aragorn's words before they left the room still made his heart flutter, filling him with a confusing mix of emotions.

Aside from him, the party consisted of Faramir, his brother Mallorn, Elrohir, Gwîneth, King Éomer, Princess Éowyn, Prince Imrahil, Princess Lothíriel, her young nephew, Prince Alphros, the Hobbits, and Gimli. Sadly, Lady Vanëanis had sent him a message, apologizing for being unable to come. Not that it surprised him. He was sure that her husband forbade her from coming with them.

"May the Valar be with you on your journey," the King of Gondor said to the group, smiling, before he turned to Faramir. "Send me a note when you reach the outpost."

The Steward nodded his head.

"Farewell, my King,"

The Steward bowed before he mounted his horse and turned it around. His companions followed his example, and soon they were on their way. Riding beside them was a troop of ten soldiers dressed in the Elite Royal Guard uniform. Only Aragorn and Faramir knew that they were the Rangers of the North in disguise, led by Hathron's second in command, Beldir (Strong Man).

Aragorn stood at the Castle's entrance, silently watching until his husband, Steward, and friends slowly disappeared down the path that led down the levels of the city. He had a gloomy feeling about this trip, and even though he was the one who insisted on this trip and trusted his Steward to keep his husband safe, he could not help but worry. Something told him a tragedy would occur to Legolas or one of his companions. Shaking his head, Aragorn pushed all the bleak thoughts away. He had to believe in Legolas and the rest of their friends. Taking a deep breath, Aragorn turned around and looked at his father, Glorfindel, Thranduil and Gandalf.

"It's time," he said.

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Lord Herumacil fidgeted in his seat as he and ten Lords of the Council sat in the King's office, surrounding the King who sat before them. Rhircyn, the Captain of the Guards, and an unknown soldier in the Elite Guard uniform stood behind the King, watching over the meeting. The King summoned them to a private meeting to discuss a critical matter without saying what. The tension in the room was like the air after a summer storm.

"My Lords," the King began. "I have summoned you because I want to disclose a serious matter to you. I've chosen you specifically because I trust you the most. However, I must request that you swear to secrecy before we discuss anything. You must swear upon your life and honour that you will not divulge anything being said in this room."

"I, Lord Herumacil, swear by my life and honour that I will never speak of what is said in this room to any outsiders," the young Lord swore, and the rest of the Lords followed suit.

"Very well," the King replied after the last Lord made his oath. "Now that you have sworn your silence, let me begin. There are traitors among the Lords of the Council. They had poisoned my Consort, forcing him into early labour, then poisoned my daughter and caused her death."

Aragorn waited for the news to sink in as he watched the effects of his speech on the faces of the men who swore their allegiance and loyalty to him.

"We thought as much in the last meeting, Your Majesty," Lord Herumacil finally spoke when the others had nothing to say. "But we want to know who those conspirators are and what evidence you have to support this claim."

"Hathorn," Aragorn said, looking at the man standing behind him. "Would you please tell the Lords what you and your men found?"

The unknown soldier stepped forward and began to relate what he had discovered about the conspirators' activities. He provided details such as the names of the Lords who had been involved in the plot and the names of those who helped them.

"How do you know all of this?" One of the Lords asked.

"I'd like to introduce Hathorn, the Captain of the Rangers of the North," Aragorn said. "I have summoned them to the city and assigned them the task of rooting out these traitors."

The Lords were stunned as they stared at the Ranger, who stood at ease before them. They had heard many stories about the Rangers of the North, but they had not expected to find them in their midst, investigating them.

"We will take this information to heart," Lord Herumacil said at last. "But all the evidence you presented us is insufficient to condemn the traitors."

"I know," Aragorn replied. "That is why Legolas left for Ithilien to root out the Elf who had been helping Lord Bonirun and Lord Mortardur in their plot."

"But what if this mysterious Elf was not found?" another Lord said.

"He will be found," Aragorn assured. "We believe the Elf wanted Legolas for himself. We're counting on his lust for my husband to bring him out of hiding."

"So, what will we do until the Prince returns?" Lord Herumacil asked.

"We wait," the King replied. "I simply told you so you would know I'm not sitting idly by while the security of my Castle is jeopardized."

"Of course not, Your Majesty," the younger Lord replied. "Now that we have heard this, we can watch the traitors without being noticed."

"I would appreciate it," Aragorn told them. "But, I would ask you not to interfere with Hathorn's activities. And I don't want you to alert the traitors in the Council that we know who they are. We need them to believe we are clueless so they won't flee."

"Yes, Sire."

"Then we will wait until my husband returns."

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"Finally, open air!" Gimli grunted as their party finally entered the plain open fields surrounding Minas Tirith. "The walls of this city can smother someone's breaths."

Legolas couldn't help but laugh at the Dwarf's remark.

"Says the Dwarf who lives in a mine!" he teased lightly. Despite his comment, the blond Elf did agree with the Dwarf. He had felt a strange sense of freedom as they left the city, the familiar feeling of open air and wilderness lifting his spirits. The walls of Minas Tirith had begun to feel confining, and the journey offered a welcome respite. However, the weight of unresolved feelings lingered at the edges of his mind, tempering his initial sense of relief. He took several deep breaths, inhaling the soothing, refreshing scent of plants and leaves into his lungs the moment they passed the white gates, realizing how much he missed the lush scent. The gardens in the Castle were exquisite and extraordinary, but nothing could compare to the beauty of the wild, and he hadn't been out in such an open area since his arrival to the White City eight months ago.

"If memory serves me correctly, Elf, your Palace is also in a cave."

The Dwarf's rough voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"It's not the same thing, Master Dwarf," Mallorn, who was riding beside the two, intervened. "Though our palace is indeed a series of connected caves, the walls are covered with vegetation, and several balconies and openings in selected places allow an abundance of air and sunlight to enter."

Gimli huffed in response, but Legolas could see the amusement in his eyes. Their banter was comforting, a reminder of the bonds that had formed over years of shared adventures.

Gwîneth smiled at the exchange as she rode behind the three. It amazed her how many races had gathered in one place for the sake of one person, how their differences and disputes could melt into nothingness when united under one common cause and a shared love for a particular person. The Elleth's eyes landed lovingly on the back of Legolas, and her smile widened. It was due to him that King Thranduil, Mallorn and Gimli had miraculously set aside a long history of hostility and mistrust between the two races to give their mutual support to the blond Prince. The three were very protective of Legolas and seemed to collaborate with each other very well to overcome his stubbornness. She just prayed that their efforts wouldn't be in vain.

"It feels like when we first left on the fellowship."

Pippin's excited voice sounded from a couple of horses behind.

"But without the danger," Frodo added, his expression turning a little fearful at the thought of being hunted by Orcs or other terrible creatures again.

"Indeed," Sam said.

"And we have better food this time!" Pippin exclaimed, eliciting laughter from the Hobbits and the elves. "And wine!"

"That too!" Merry agreed, and the four continued with their light banter.

"I'd like to hear more about your travels, Sirs," Gwîneth spoke, moving her horse until it was beside the Hobbits.

"Certainly, Lady Gwîneth. What would you like to know?" Pippin replied.

"Oh, I don't know... tell me everything from the beginning."

"Alright," Merry agreed. "Let's see..."

The Hobbits then began telling the tale of their journey while the other companions listened, commenting here and there.

Gwîneth found it amusing and heartwarming how the small Halflings' expressions changed, ranging from sadness and fear to excitement and merriment depending on the circumstances described. The way they told the story made her feel like she had lived the events herself.

"It seems you had quite many adventures, my friends," she commented, smiling.

"We had!" Pippin nodded. "We met many people and fought several battles."

"It wasn't easy, though," Frodo commented, and the other three nodded.

"I think what you did was incredibly brave and noble," the Elleth said.

"Thank you, Lady Gwîneth. You're very kind," Frodo said.

As the company continued their journey, Legolas found himself drifting back into his thoughts. The freedom he felt was fleeting, overshadowed by the uncertainty gnawing at his heart. Aragorn's words, filled with love and concern, echoed in his mind, and the prospect of their separation loomed like a dark cloud.

The Hobbits' lively chatter drew him back to the present, their lightheartedness a welcome distraction. As Pippin, Merry, Frodo, and Sam recounted tales of their journey, Legolas listened, grateful for the respite their stories provided. But even as he smiled and laughed along with them, a part of him remained distant, caught in the web of his own emotions and doubts.

After a couple of hours of riding, the little Hobbits started to voice their complaints about their hunger and fatigue, so the company called for a short break. The guards accompanying them quickly set up a suitable camp for their Lords and Ladies.

Legolas found himself surrounded by the Hobbits and young Prince Alphros, who had climbed into his lap. The warmth of the child nestled against him brought a moment of peace.

Gwîneth, Lothíriel, and Éowyn sat together, not far from Legolas and the Hobbits, cheerfully chattering and fondly eyeing the Elf and his companions.

Meanwhile, Mallorn lay on the green grass, eyes closed, enjoying the fresh air.

Glancing at the blond Elf, Elrohir couldn't help but smile as he joined him on the ground. He had been deprived of his beloved's private company for a long time, and this trip was an excellent opportunity to be with the blond Elf. The Peredhel turned to his side and, with a finger, gently trailed the outline of his lover's face.

'Stop your mischief, Son of Elrond. I'm trying to rest,' Mallorn said in a low, lazy voice. 'I advise you to do the same.'

'I miss you,' Elrohir whispered into the Mirkwood Elf's ear.

Opening one eye, Mallorn smirked at his lover.

'Miss me? But I have stayed on your side since we arrived in Gondor.'

'That is true, but most of the time, you've been occupied with Legolas...then your Adar arrived...' The Peredhel's voice trailed.

It took all Mallorn's willpower not to laugh at his lover's condemning tone. He opened his eyes and turned to his side, facing the other Elf.

'Is it possible that you are mourning the absence of intimacy rather than my undivided attention?' he asked slyly.

A slight blush coloured Elrohir's cheekbones.

'No,' he responded a little bit apprehensively. 'I'm still anxious at the outcome of our first time of intimacy to even think of repeating the experience.'

'I didn't hear any complaints at the time, though,' Mallorn said, slightly annoyed. 'Besides, it was you who asked first.'

'I'm not complaining now,' Elrohir said defensively.

'Then what's your problem?'

'I'm not keen on having your Adar after my neck because I've impregnated his son. Speaking of which, it's been two months, do you—'

'I don't know,' Mallorn replied with a clear annoyance. 'There is no sign confirming that I'm with a child.' He turned on his back. 'I wouldn't worry much if I were you, though. Adar already knows about us.'

'What?' Elrohir felt his heart ceased beating for a moment. 'When? How?'

Mallorn arched an eyebrow as he looked at his lover.

'My Adar possesses a sharp pair of eyes, Meleth. He did notice how close we were during his short stay in Gondor. So, when he inquired about it, I couldn't lie.'

'When did he ask?'

'Last night,' Mallorn replied.

'Did he know that we've joined?' Elrohir's voice sounded almost frightened.

'Nay, but he did warn me about going into bed with you,' Mallorn said flatly. 'Of course, it was a late warning, but I didn't tell him that.'

Elrohir groaned in response as he lay on his back.

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Gimli sat alone on the edge of the camp, smoking his pipe and seemingly lost in thoughts.

FLASHBACK

"Aragorn," the Dwarf called as he marched after the King of Gondor after breakfast yesterday. "What is this business about a dead Elf?"

The King turned around and sighed deeply.

"'Tis King Thranduil's messenger,' Aragorn replied. "He had been missing for around a month, and today, the soldiers found him hanging from the White Tree."

"Who would do such a thing? Do you have someone who fancies going into war with the Elves among your subjects?" the Dwarf demanded.

"Unfortunately, that seems to be the case, Gimli," the King said with a sigh.

The Dwarf huffed in apparent displeasure.

"Perhaps we should not leave the Castle. My axe may be useful to you."

Aragorn smiled, shaking his head.

"On the contrary, my friend, Legolas needs your axe more than I am." Pulling the Dwarf into a nearby unused room, the man knelt before him. "I want to entrust you with something, Gimli," he said in a low voice. "You know the main purpose of this trip. I need loyal friends like you to protect Legolas while he's away, had the danger come from outside the Castle."

Gimli narrowed his eyes, studying the man in front of him.

"Is the elf aware of this danger you speak of?" he asked.

"Yes," the man replied. "But he thinks he can handle it on his own."

"How typical of him!" Gimli snorted before sighing. "Well, I will make sure that no one harms the stubborn Elf. In the meantime, you must uncover who is behind this folly."

He grabbed the man's shoulder in a gesture of support before leaving.

END OF FLASHBACK

Gimli huffed another trail of smoke, vowing anew that no harm would befall his Elven Prince as long as he drew breath.

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Faramir was sitting alone in one corner of the camp, lost in deep thoughts, when a hand on his shoulder snapped him from his thoughts. Looking up, he saw Éomer and Imrahil standing before him.

"My Lords," he said as he tried to rise. "How can I serve you?"

"Sit down, Faramir," Rohan's King said as he and Imrahil joined him. "I saw you sitting by yourself, and I wondered what was troubling you?"

Faramir's handsome face darkened.

In truth, he was too worried about how his King would deal with the Council in a situation in which they had left the court. An Elven messenger was killed and displayed in a manner that was bound to stir troubles with the whole Elven race, even if the arrow they'd found was of Lothlórien origin. The Steward feared that this situation would lead to an ugly confrontation between Aragorn and the Lords of his Council, not to mention what the foreign delegations would say about the scandalous event. Sure, Éomer and Imrahil were close friends to his King, but this didn't mean that the rest of their delegations would be pleased to know that a dead body of a foreign race was found in the Castle.

The Steward let out a deep, long breath.

He still could not fathom why his King insisted on his departure to Ithilien during this crisis. In Faramir's opinion, this trip to Ithilien was highly ill-timed and inconvenient.

Sighing deeply, the Steward spoke.

"I'm worried about what's happening in the Castle right now. I have a bad feeling. I shouldn't have given in so easily to the King's order. I should've stayed back."

"Don't overthink it, my friend," Éomer said reassuringly. "Aragorn is a wise King. I'm sure he can manage the situation inside the Castle."

"That's right," Imrahil agreed. "Though I'm not thoroughly familiar with your situation, I know that King Elessar has everything under control."

Faramir sighed in response, not trusting the two men's words.

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Mortardur watched as Bonirun paced in front of him like a caged animal. The older Lord had been on hot tin since morning, and it was getting on Mortardur's nerves.

"What is wrong with you, old man?" he asked, trying to suppress his annoyance.

Bonirun turned to the younger Lord, his eyes dark and fury.

"The King summoned eleven of Council Lords to a private meeting."

"So?"

"So?" the older Lord echoed, incredulous. "So, it can only mean that the King knows something! He suspects something!"

"Calm down, Bonirun," Mortardur said, though he was feeling nervous himself. "I'm sure the King knows nothing. And even if he did, he couldn't act without evidence."

"How can you be so sure?" the older Lord hissed. "Some of the servants, including my personal servant, were arrested. If they talked—"

"Even if they had been questioned, I doubt it was fruitful," Mortardur said. "If they talked, the King wouldn't wait until now to arrest us, or he wouldn't send the Prince away, knowing it's a trap."

"True," Bonirun paused in his pacing. "But, why did he call for those Council Lords?"

"To gain their support, perhaps?"

"Why would the King need their support?" the older Lord asked.

"Who knows?" Mortardur replied. "Maybe he fears the Council would act against him because he didn't do something about the dead messenger. Or he may fear the reaction of the other foreign delegations, so he's gathering the Lords' support."

"Hmmm..." the older Lord hummed. "You may be right, but still, it doesn't calm my mind."

"You worry too much, old man," Mortardur said. "In a few days, we'll get the news of the kidnapping of the Elven Prince, and you will no longer have anything to fear. The King's reputation will be tarnished. The other Lords will no longer trust him, and he will have no option but to either step down or rule under our conditions. It is only a matter of time."

The older Lord's lips stretched into a cruel smile.

"Yes. Only a matter of time."

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"Faramir," Elrohir called as he rode beside the Steward. "I think we should stop now and camp here," the Elf suggested.

After their first break, the group galloped for some time before the Hobbits again whined about food and rest. Their second break, however, took longer than expected due to Prince Alphros' napping time. Thus, after they resumed their travelling, Faramir decided to stop only once they reached their destination. Every time anyone tried to call for a halt, he would find a way to convince them to continue forward. Now, as night was about to fall, everyone seemed to be on the brink of exhaustion.

"I don't advise it, my Lord," Faramir replied. "After a couple of hours—"

"In a couple of hours, it will be too dark to ride," Elrohir reasoned. "Besides, we have a child among us! Riding for so long without rest or food is not good for him. And everyone is dead tired..."

The Steward looked behind him to where Legolas was riding beside his brother and Gimli. The blond Elf was trying hard to sit straight on his horse and futilely hide fatigue from showing on his handsome face. Faramir frowned. He had wished to reach the outpost of Osgiliath as soon as possible; however, he doubted that Aragorn would be pleased if his husband collapsed from exhaustion on a trip meant for him to relax.

"Halt!" the Steward called loudly as he raised his hand for the group to stop. "We will camp here for the night."

As soon as it was said, the guards dismounted their horses and quickly set up camp. A fire was made at the centre, and the tents were pitched around it. The Hobbits and Gimili shared a tent, the ladies took the next, the elves shared one, and the last was for the men.

After the tents were pitched, the Hobbits gathered around the fire and seemed engrossed in searching their travelling bags for something to munch on while Sam, aided by two soldiers, prepared dinner. The rest of the soldiers spread around the camp, keeping watch.

Beldir observed their surroundings with sharp eyes as he sat at the edge of the camp. The area they stopped in was surrounded by thick trees and shadowed ruins, making him uneasy. He had been harbouring the feelings of something amiss for a while but couldn't put his finger on what was wrong. He shifted restlessly in his place, wondering why the Steward had suddenly called for a halt when they were merely hours away from the outpost.

The Dúnadan sighed deeply, knowing it wasn't his place to question the Steward's decisions. The King had put the Faramir in charge of the trip. In addition, the King had explicitly requested that the Dúnadan hide his identity as the Second-in-Command of the Dúnedain from everyone, including Legolas; Faramir was the only one who knew who he was. He was supposed to act like a mere guard while closely watching the Prince Consort.

The Dúnadan's eyes fell on the blond Prince as he stood by his horse, talking to it while patting its white mane. They were shocked when he and the rest of the Rangers first received the news of their King marrying the Elven Prince. Something didn't seem quite right to them, for, according to their late Captain Halbarad, their Chieftain was harbouring romantic feelings towards an Elven Lady called Arwen. And what puzzled them more was the news of the Prince's pregnancy.

At that point, their current Captain Hathron was on the verge of heading to Gondor to see for himself what was occurring in the White Castle. The newly appointed Captain managed to hold back only by reminding himself of his King's orders to clear as many lands from the remnants of the orcs and Uruk-hai as possible. That was until he received his King's message urging him to return to Minas Tirith with the utmost speed and secrecy. Hathron suspected that something evil was afoot. But he hadn't accepted at all that a conspiracy took place in the White Castle that claimed the King's child as its victim.

The Dúnadan exhaled sharply at the thought, vowing to bring the culprits to justice, no matter how long or what it would take.

Shaking his head, the man returned his thoughts to the blond Consort. He had first seen Legolas during the War of the Ring, though they never interacted. Like many men who had caught a glimpse of the Elf, he had come to respect and admire him greatly as a warrior, and he couldn't blame his King for falling in love with such a creature. Besides his obvious beauty, the Elven Prince was also a great and strong warrior, though his strength seemed to have waned a little now.

/Such a shame, / the man lamented as he observed the Elf, noting how thin and sickly he looked. Sighing, the Dúnadan shoved those thoughts away. It was unbecoming of him to think about his Prince Consort in such a way. Focusing on the task, Beldir stood up and checked on his men.

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After dinner, the four Hobbits—Faramir, Imrahil, Éomer, and his sister—quickly retired to their tents to sleep. Legolas sat near the fire, staring absent-mindedly at his bare left hand. He had stopped wearing his ring when he started to see the deceptive phantom of Haldir, yet it was only a few days ago that he began to miss the lightweight on his finger. The blond Prince felt a lump forming in his throat, remembering his conversation with his husband. He had thought thoroughly about his life in Gondor and concluded that he wouldn't be happy in that city that took the life of his daughter, so why did he feel reluctant at the idea of leaving it forever now?

Aragorn clearly stated that he would try to make him change his mind...Was he succeeding?

A lightweight dropped in his lap and snapped Legolas from his thoughts. Looking down, he raised a dark eyebrow as Alphros gave him a toothy grin before he climbed into the Elf's lap and snuggled closely, making him comfortable.

"I'm so sorry, Your Highness," Princess Lothíriel said as she hurriedly approached them. "I'll take him immediately."

"No, please," Legolas said, smiling softly at her before directing his smile at the boy as his hand gently caressed his brown hair. "Allow him to sleep with me tonight."

"Certainly, Your Highness," Lothíriel said before bowing her head and leavening.

Gwîneth smiled fondly as she watched the exchange from across the fire.

Looking down at the toddler, Legolas began to sing a lullaby Lady Hithaer used to sing him as a child.

Gwîneth's amused smile became sad as she heard the song. It was a song that Queen Aarien sang to Mallorn and her when they refused to sleep. The Elleth remembered King Thranduil banning her mother from singing that song in his presence after the Queen's death. However, her mother still sang it to Legolas every night and ordered his nursemaids to sing it whenever he was upset and when the King was absent.

'It's been a long time since I heard that song,' Mallorn said as he sat beside her. 'I used to go to Legolas' bedchamber every night to listen to your mother sing it to him.' Sadness glinted in the Prince's eyes. 'Legolas' voice sounds much like Naneth's,' he mused.

She nodded silently as they both listened to the song.

'Good night, Gwîneth,' Mallorn said as the song ended. He stood up and left. He had come to check on his brother and have a talk with him, but hearing the song had brought back painful memories, and he was overwhelmed with emotions.

Gwîneth trailed her friend's retreating figure with a knowing look in her eyes before she turned back her gaze to Legolas. Standing up, she walked and sat next to the blond Prince.

'Mallorn seemed a little upset,' Legolas said. 'Is it because of the song?'

'Not upset, but sad,'' the Elleth replied. 'This song holds quite a few memories for us. What made you sing it?'

'Nostalgia, I suppose,' Legolas replied. 'Lady Hithaer and the nursemaids always sang it to me whenever I was upset or refused to sleep. It has always soothed me.'

'Did you sing it to Míreth?'

Legolas nodded in response.

Gwîneth lifted her hand and gently rang her fingers through Legolas' golden hair.

'What is troubling you, Legolas?' she asked.

The blond Elf looked at his friend directly in the eyes.

'Why would you say that?'

'Because I know you,' she replied. 'What's troubling you?' she repeated her question.

Sighing, Legolas turned his gaze to the burning fire.

'Do you think anyone can fall in love more than once?' he asked.

'Maybe. If they gave themselves a chance.'

'Then why haven't our parents fallen in love with each other?'

Gwîneth sighed.

It had been whispered among the nobility of Thranduil's court and the royal family members for many years since the death of the Queen that love was blooming between King Thranduil and her mother, Lady Hithaer. It was true that her mother, who was already a widow by the time of Queen Aarien's death, felt a particular attraction to the King due to her constant presence in the royal household and because she had known the kind of pain the King was going through at the time. However, her affections were one-sided; King Thranduil couldn't welcome anyone else into his heart. And though he graciously welcomed Lady Hithaer's offer of comfort, he couldn't return her growing feelings towards him.

'Your Adar had refused to open his heart to another,' she said softly. 'I can't say whether he's wrong or right, but it was his choice. I believe that while you may not have a choice on whom you love, you do have a choice on whether you give yourself another chance at love.'

'Aragorn and I have decided to annul our marriage,' Legolas declared softly.

'Why?'

'We cannot continue our lives together.'

'Haldir?'

Legolas closed his eyes to prevent his tears from falling, but a single tear managed to escape and slid down his pale cheek.

'Not the way you think,' he said brokenly. 'I think I'm feeling guilty for falling for Aragorn, Gwîneth. And I fear I couldn't love him as much as he loves me.'

'Why do you think that?'

He looked at her.

'This is how I feel,'

The Elleth smiled knowingly at her friend.

'Maybe your feelings are too clouded by guilt to know what you truly want.'

'Maybe.' Legolas responded uncertainly.

'Legolas, do you really want to annul your marriage?'

The blond Elf stared at her for a few moments before looking away.

'I don't know, ' he whispered. I have never been so uncertain about anything in my entire life. When I told him I wished to leave, I was sure of my decision. But later, I began to falter...to have second thoughts. I hate being so uncertain about what I want, Gwîneth. And he isn't making matters easy for me'

'Legolas,' Gwîneth said. 'You and King Elessar are going through a rough time. Both of you are easily hurt by anything and yet too stubborn to admit it. This is not a suitable time for you to take such a decision...not when you are hurting and unhinged.'

Legolas stared at his friend unconvinced but said nothing.

'Listen to me, Greenleaf,' Gwîneth said soothingly. 'Life goes on despite everything. It won't be affected by the loss or death of someone. Its wheel continues to turn no matter how we feel about it. We can't stop it. Our choices are what direct our paths in it. And as we walk through life's tangled paths, we'll eventually meet new people and have new experiences. They can bring us pain, pleasure, or joy. They can lead us to our doom or a glorious destiny. You have a new chance at life, my friend. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life alone, feeling miserable and regretting what you have lost? Or will you give yourself another chance to find your deserved happiness?'

Legolas looked down at the sleeping toddler in his lap, thinking about what his friend told him.

'Give yourself some time to heal,' she continued. 'then, with a stable mind and settled emotions, think carefully and thoroughly before deciding what you will do with your life. Don't worry about anything, and believe that everything will turn out fine in the end. Good Night.'

With that, the Elleth stood up and left Legolas to his thoughts.

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Shadow watched from afar as Legolas's company camped that night in a clearing surrounded by thick trees and ruins. He had been trailing them since they left Minas Tirith, always staying far enough behind to keep his presence secret. At the pace they were walking by, it would take the company half a day for them to reach the outpost of Osgiliath to cross the river, he assumed. From there, it would be one or two more days before they arrived at Emyn Arnen. Shadow narrowed his eyes as he watched the camp. He had thought of the best time to snatch Legolas away. He could wait until the company crossed the river and reached Emyn Arnen. But if the party were to reach Emyn Arnen before he captured Legolas, then there was the added difficulty of luring Legolas out of the city alone. So his best chance was to catch the Elven Prince before they reached Ithilien's Capital. The main challenge, however, was to separate Legolas from the group.

He had planned to use Mortardur's soldiers, who would meet him beyond the river, to stage an attack on the group, but Shadow doubted the men would attack the soldiers of Gondor, even if they were ordered to follow his command. He started feeling stupid for even thinking he could have Mortardur's men do his dirty work. Would Mortardur's men be stupid enough to believe Legolas' guards were imposters who kidnapped their Prince?

Probably not.

The men may be stupid, but they were not foolish enough to believe such a story. Shadow shook his head. Mortardur had ordered his men to follow his command and had told him to use the soldiers as he saw fit, but now he could not see any use for them.

He sat on the ground and thought. It might be worth a try. No one can predict the men's stupidity; it could work if they believed the story.

Shadow stood up and stretched. He had to leave ahead and wait for Legolas and his group beyond the river. He would have to do everything if he could not make Mortardur's men follow his command.

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To Be Continued...

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