Deadly silence filled the room as Thranduil stared at me in disbelief. Finally, he said, "You can't be serious."

"I am serious," I replied calmly. "Surely you expect him to marry politically, for the sake of the kingdom?"

Thranduil stood and began pacing with a renewed energy. "Of course...but his heart is wild." He clasped his hands behind his back, then unclasped them and crossed his arms over his chest.

"He will not obey you?" I challenged. I clutched my hands together to hide their shaking, desperately hoping I was approaching this the right way.

"Of course he will obey me!" Thranduil snapped. He sighed and let his arms fall to his sides, and he ran his fingers through his sleek hair. "I merely do not find it wise to overtly control him."

I paused to consider that. It would seem, under all the haughty bluster and fancy clothes, that Thranduil really did have a few things figured out. Of course, this made my task more difficult; I couldn't manipulate Thranduil by making him feel the need to prove himself. But...he would make a much better father-in-law than I'd assumed.

"What bothers you so much about a marriage alliance?" I asked quietly. "Is it me?"

Thranduil sighed and sat again, pouring himself a full glass of wine. "Partially," he admitted, and took a long draw from the glass. He rolled the liquid around in his mouth for a moment, then swallowed. "You are the lovechild of Tauriel and the Dwarf prince, are you not?"

I sighed and leaned forward, pouring myself a drink. I really needed to calm down. "Yes," I replied.

"I'm surprised your Court let you on the throne at all," he mused. "After all, the prejudice between our races runs both ways."

"Yes, well, it was either me or a puppet from the Iron Hills who's even stupider than I am." I took a sip, and winced at the bitterness. I quickly swallowed.

Thranduil snorted. "A predicament, indeed." He studied me closely. "But they accept your Elvish blood?"

"Tolerate would be more accurate. They remind me frequently. But they help me protect my right to the throne."

"You are fortunate." He took a sip of his wine. "I cannot speak for my son, but an alliance would, if nothing else, give my people a greater sense of stability."

I was afraid to hope. "You agree to the alliance?"

He met my gaze, his eyes serious. "Only if my son agrees. Willingly. I cannot promise that he will."

I took another sip, considering the next step, since Thranduil might reconsider his decision.

"If he does not," Thranduil said, "I assume you will not leave the key in my possession?"

"I cannot," I replied. "It would be a risk I could not justify."

He nodded. "Without a marriage, you cannot leave the key, and without the key there is no alliance. Everything unravels." He met my gaze. "But I still will not pressure my son into a loveless marriage. He deserves better." Thranduil focused on his wine, and took another swig.

I dipped my head in agreement. "He will decide."

Thranduil glanced up from his drink. "Perhaps, as a potential daughter-in-law, you would join us at our dinner party this evening? I'm sure Lachiel would like someone to compare dresses with." One of his eyebrows quirked upward.

I gave him a tight smile. "I may have something laying around, waiting to be tried."

He stood and set his wineglass on the table, then clasped his hands behind his back. "Go rest, Amariel. I will send a servant to fetch you this evening."

I finished the last bit of my wine, then stood as well. "Thank you, King Thranduil. I will see you this evening." I set my glass on the table.

He nodded once. "Alagos," he called.

The door swung open, and a guard poked his head in. "Your Majesty?"

"Take Queen Amariel to the guest chambers where she is staying. You are also to give her an hour's notice before this evening's dinner event, and you are to escort her to the private dining hall should she choose to come."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

I curtseyed for Thranduil, dipping my head. To my surprise, he bowed in return. Not deeply, but a show of respect nonetheless.

I strode from the room, and the guard, Alagos, took the lead. It was difficult for me to contain my excitement; I was as good as betrothed to Legolas! But I couldn't give away my sureness, not until everything was official. We walked through the castle for several minutes in silence, until we arrived at the door to my room. "Here you are, My Lady," he said, and gave a small bow.

"Thank you," I replied, and went in.

Larika was sprawled out on my bed, arm flopped over her eyes as she either napped or attempted to. A massive grin spread across my face in sheer excitement, and I shut the door. Once I was safe from Elvish eyes, though perhaps not Elvish ears but oh well, I shrieked, "Larika!"

She jumped six inches straight up from the bed. "Y-your Ma—I'm so sorry—I was tired and—" She scrambled to get up and straighten the sheets.

"No no, I don't mind," I interrupted, "but Larika, he agreed to an alliance!"

That shut her up. Her eyes widened even more, and she squealed. "My Lady, you're going to get married!"

"I know!" I squealed back.

An adjoining door opened, presumably the servant's quarters, and Dwalin stepped out, shirtless. "What's going on?" he mumbled, rubbing his face.

Larika whole face went approximately the shade of a sunburned tomato, and she stared, wide-eyed, at the floor.

I hid a smirk. These two were on such a crash course for each other. "King Thranduil seems to have agreed to an alliance." I frowned suddenly. "Wait...Larika, how did you know an alliance meant I would be getting married?"

She shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Dwalin. Then she immediately looked away again.

I sighed. "Dwalin, put a shirt on. Larika's innocence is melting all over the floor. And then you can tell me why you're spreading rumors?"

"Regardless of how true they may be," he grumbled, disappearing back into the servant's room. He reappeared a moment later, pulling a shirt on. "It was hardly difficult to decipher, My Lady. Your conflict over leaving the Elf, then your blatant refusal to court Thorin Stonehelm, and now your eager pursuit for an alliance here."

"Alright," I sighed, "but there's really no reason to spread it around."

"I didn't," Dwalin replied. "Miss Larika was the only one I told."

"Oh." I sat on the vanity stool and rubbed my forehead. "Larika, could you please get this torture device off my head?" She hurried to obey, lifting the crown off my brow. The relief was immediate, and I groaned gratefully as she began letting my hair down.

Dwalin leaned against the bedpost. "So, he agreed to an alliance?"

"Well, mostly," I said. "But Legolas has to agree, too. If he doesn't, it all falls apart." As I said that, a pang of anxiety ran through me. The endless supply of doubt-filled what-ifs.

"Well, you've done better than I expected," Dwalin said, "but that's a bit more precarious than I find comforting."

I nodded. "I know. But, Thranduil invited me to a dinner party tonight, as a potential daughter-in-law."

Dwalin raised his eyebrows. "Yes...that's either very good or very bad. You're going, I presume?"

"Yes," I replied. "One of the guards are going to give us a one-hour warning, and then accompany me to the dining hall."

Dwalin nodded. "Very well. I would suggest we all rest until the one-hour warning is delivered."

"My Lady..." Larika said, blushing, "perhaps I should sleep in your room? On the floor? Just in case you need me."

Dwalin chuckled uncomfortably. "Miss Larika...I think it would be best to let Her Majesty have this room to herself."

I gave her an apologetic smile. "I need some times to think. I know you would be quiet as a mouse, but it wouldn't be the same."

Larika sighed and nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty." She curtsied, then went into the servant's quarters.

I looked at Dwalin. "What was that all about?"

He shook his head. "The servant's quarters are made for one aide—one room, one bed. I'm sure the lass feels odd sharing."

I narrowed my eyes at him a little bit. "Should she?"

Dwalin looked me in the eye. "She has nothing to fear from me, if that's what you're asking."

I nodded. "Good. I would expect nothing less." I gave him a dismissive wave, and he took his cue, returning to the servant's quarters and closing the door behind him.

* * *

Several hours later, I walked with the guard named Alagos toward Thranduil's private dining hall. Larika had dressed me in an emerald green dress that we both agreed was neither too frilly nor too stern. Picked from my selection based on Lachiel's top dress choices, it was far less dramatic than earlier's red dress, but still beautiful and eye-catching.

Larika had performed another miracle on my hair. She'd left most of it down, and to my great surprise, made it look nice. Then she took a section and braided some tiny white flowers into it, and drew the braid around the front, creating a dainty and gloriously lightweight crown.

And now we were heading for the dinner party, and I was nervous again. How should I behave? What was expected of me? I still hadn't figured those out by the time we reached an ornate door at the end of an ornate hallway. Alagos opened it for me, and I walked in.

A number of Elves had already arrived, most dressed in pompous silks, but none of which were the King or his daughter, the not-princess. All of them stared at me, however, and not in a nice way.

I smiled and dipped into a shallow curtsey. "Good evening."

They grumbled return greetings, and grouped up to talk in low tones. One ellon, dressed nicely but clearly below the others in status, separated himself and strode over to me. "Good evening, miss." He bowed. "Your name?"

"Amariel," I replied with a polite smile. I saw no reason to smear in peoples' faces that I was a queen—at least until Thranduil revealed that bit for me.

"Ah, Your Majesty." The ellon bowed again. "King Thranduil has decided you shall take the honorary position at the foot of the table, directly across from him, when it is time for the meal. What would you like to eat this lovely evening?"

A servant then. That would explain the friendliness. I pursed my lips in thought. "I've been eating a great deal of fish lately...I would like some proper beef. Ground up and mixed in some thick hot broth with some vegetables."

The ellon's trained smile wavered a little, then resumed at full force. "Of course, Your Majesty. I will tell the cooks." He bowed again, then turned and walked across the wide room, past the expansive dinner table, and through a door on the other side.

Thranduil walked in, supporting Lachiel, who was dressed to turn heads in her red dress. She also wore her necklace—with my key resting on the exposed slope of her curves.

I kept my expression nonchalant, but questions raced through my mind. Was that a statement from Thranduil? From Lachiel? Was the deal off? I thought Legolas was supposed to decide!

"Sorry we're late," Thranduil said. He motioned to some Elves hanging by the wall, and said, "Music, please." They immediately obliged him with a delicate tune.

Thranduil walked with Lachiel toward me. He was dressed very well too, in an earthy-colored tunic and dark trousers, tall black boots, and a silver robe hanging perfectly from his broad shoulders. It truly was a pity he wasn't married. "Queen Amariel."

Lachiel dipped into a shallow curtsey, with Thranduil's hand still firmly around her waist. "Your Majesty."

I curtsied in return. "King Thranduil, My Lady."

King Thranduil tilted his head in acknowledgement. "If you ladies will excuse me, I have some advisors to redirect. Lachiel...you know what you are to do." He carefully detached himself from his daughter, glanced over her for a moment, and strode away.

A smile twisted her lips, and Lachiel lifted her hands to the back of her neck. "Adar wished me to return this to you myself. I suppose he wishes to teach me a lesson." She removed the necklace and extended it to me. I held my hand out, and she gently placed it in my palm.

I didn't have any pockets in this dress, so I put the necklace on myself and tucked it into my collar.

Lachiel's smile widened a tad. "It suits you."

I offered a reserved smile in return. "Thank you." I tilted my head, debating if I should ask why she took it. I decided I would. "If I may be so bold—"

She raised an eyebrow. "You want to know why I can't walk by myself."

I hesitated. I wanted to know that too, so I nodded.

Her eyes glittered with a cold determination. "An enemy of Adar's put a sword through my back. I was just a baby." She absently touched her abdomen. "It was a miracle I survived."

I glanced around. Surely Thranduil had dealt with the threat, but it wasn't much of a stretch to understand that anyone could have hidden, sinister motives. "You must be very careful who you trust?"

She chuckled. "No indeed. I live by one simple rule: trust nobody."

I looked her in the eye. "And your father? Do you trust him?"

Lachiel hesitated.

Just then, a tall, dark-haired ellon walked in. He scanned the room, eyes locking onto Lachiel, and he smiled. He walked up behind her and placed a gloved hand on her exposed shoulder. "Lachiel, melleth nin, mannen le?" (Lachiel, my love, how are you?)

"Angrod!" she exclaimed, her expression lighting up. In Elvish, she continued. "You come at a most welcome moment."

The ellon, presumably Angrod, glanced at me, then back to Lachiel. "Does she speak Elvish?"

Lachiel shook her head. "Of course not, she was raised under the glorified rock to the east." She looked at me and smiled benevolently, and in the common tongue, she said, "I am telling Angrod you are our most honored guest this evening."

I smiled and curtsied to Angrod. I was very tempted to greet him in Elvish, very tempted, but I wasn't willing to sacrifice my ability to eavesdrop. "A pleasure to meet you, my lord."

He bowed. "Likewise." He glanced around, then turned to Lachiel and said in Elvish, "I hope to speak with your father tonight. Perhaps he will be in a better mood after the festivities."

Lachiel gave a sharp sigh. "He will not give his permission; you know this."

Angrod nodded. "I know. But we must try."

About an hour passed, during which I spoke with a few different people, but mostly hung outside of the activities. At length, Thranduil announced that we would be eating. I was directed to the seat at the foot of the table, where I would look directly at Thranduil, at the head. Lachiel sat at his left side, while the chair at his right remained empty. Presumably a reminder of Legolas's importance, even in his absence. Between myself and Thranduil sat ten pompously-dressed advisors, and beside Lachiel sat Angrod.

The servants brought out overflowing plates of food for each person, mostly salads of a very wide variety. Finally, a steaming bowl was brought out and set in front of me. It smelled absolutely succulent, and I could scarcely wait for them to set the spoon down before snatching it back up and diving in.

Loud footsteps strode down the hallway outside the room, drawing the attention of the entire table. The heavy door creaked open, and there he stood.

Legolas.

***Author's Note***

Well, this chapter ended up being almost twice as long as usual, but there were a number of things I felt really needed to happen at this point. So that's why it took me so long to update. :) No promises on when I update next, hopefully next week, but the next chapter isn't written yet. :/ I will try, though.

Lots of love, thank you so very much for all the votes and comments on the last chapter. I'm feeling the love over here!