A/N: sorry for taking forever to update! But I'm juggling lol! Just FYI readers, there are huge time jumps in this story, mostly because I want to keep it relatively short. So this is set about a year or so from the last chapter.  Please enjoy #imissOrophy
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"Galathil?" Curuni spoke the name like a choked whisper, her throat tightening, her mouth dry as bone as she observed the crowded reception hall.

Every eye trained on her, as she let her gaze flick over the elf knelt before her, her hand in his and his smile so sincere that it made her breath catch.

"My lady...Curuni?" Galathil spoke, a slight tremor of nerves in his voice, as he soothed the top of her hand with his thumb, "w-will you give me an answer?"

Curuni felt her lips part, but no words came, for there were none that would save this terrible misunderstanding. At the very corners of her vision she seen the figure move, and it took all her determination, and all her years of education in the arena of politics to not chase after him.

Oropher departed the crowd as quietly as he had arrived to Taraquen's celebratory feast of his daughter's begetting day. His shoulders were bent under a crippling blow, and he had nothing save his pride left...and he was not sure if even that had been stolen from him.

On his exit his eyes flashed across that of his host. The dark haired elf stood expressionless, save for a cruel upturned sneer, a reminder that Oropher was utterly denied such a public privilege of asking the hand of his only daughter. That look was the only thing that faltered the young lord's defeated exit, because it rose a challenging air between he and this Elf who thought himself greater than he.

"My daughter is in shock of such a thoughtful proposal," Taraquen breathed airily as he twisted his gaze away from the silver haired thorn who still stood defiantly in the throngs of his party - Oropher would learn his place after tonight!

"My apologies, my lady Curuni, I did not mean to take you unawares," Galathil muttered as he launched to his feet, his cheeks pinking up at the very public embarrassment. "I thought you would be expecting it...my proposal...I thought you knew?"

Curuni tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowing between the King's cousin and her own father. It suddenly made an alarming amount of sense. All the months Galathil had spent in her home, tutoring her on the languages and wonders of Arda, instructing her on the things of the wise, boring her to tears with his wealth of useless knowledge. It was all to lead up to this moment, a proposal to a prince, and it was all her parents doing.

Now, she could have politely accepted the proposal and then later declined it just to save the embarrassment of it all - but her pride could not let her. A fiery temper lit her spirit, and she felt herself crackle and hiss at the attempt to control her decisions. Her parents should have never crossed such a line, and this prince should not have been so presumptuous!

"No, I was under the illusion that I was just an acquaintance to you Galathil," Curuni spat as she ripped her hand, and her body away from the elf Lord, giving him a scathing look. "I will not accept, and I do not take kindly to this humiliation. I think it best that you leav-."

"Curuni...child...there is no need for hostility," Taraquen ordered as calmly as his exasperation with his daughter would allow, whist his wife prompted another song from the minstrels to divert from the scene Curuni had caused.

"I am no child!" She hissed and backed away from her father, glaring indignantly as she eyed both ellyn up. "You both planned this! Do you think me uneducated and frivolous? Or am I just some possession for you to sell off to the highest bidder, Ada?"

"Curuni! Be reasonable!"  Her father warned, his eyes flitting between furious glares at his child and apologetic glances towards Galathil; "my apologies, my Lord, Curuni is just in a state of shock."

"My name is now Lassiel, I have already informed you," Curuni stated flatly, before gracing her chosen suitor with an angry scowl. "I am not in shock, I am angry, and also alarmed that my father would lead you to believe that I am free to proposition. The truth is I am already spoken for."

"I beg you pardon?" Galathil spluttered, a look of utter disbelief and slight annoyance evident in his expression as he turned to questioningly to Taraquen; "I was not aware that you were courting my lady, if I had of I would not have been so forward in my presumptions....this is incredibly embarrassing."

"Oh for the love of Eru," Taraquen whined into his palms, before stretching his palms out pleadingly to the now irate and offended prince. "I assure you my lord I knew of no other suitor, this is all news to me, please forgive the confusion for it seems my daughter prefers to keep us in the dark regarding her personal affairs."

"So it appears," Galathil grumbled, as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the elleth who now called herself Lassiel - clearly a named bestowed by a Sindarin lover. "I will speak with you later my lord, now if you excuse me I must attend to personal matters," the elf Lord gave a restricted bow before he strode off with glowing cheeks.

Taraquen glared after the retreating ellon, and then slowly turning the intensity of his look on his child, but she did not shrink from him - wilful girl!

"Lassiel? He has named you?" Taraquen asked in a voice just above a whisper, she bobbed her head once in agreement, and his blood ran cold. Turning away from his daughter, for he could not bear the sight of her, he glanced down at his feet as he spoke his orders; "you will go to your rooms and stay there until the party is through, and then we will put an end to this ridiculous courtship with Oropher...is that understood Curuni?"

"My name is Lassiel," she spoke with the same dark whisper as she picked up the hems of her silk gown and quit the room. Every eye watched her leave, and every tongue spoke of her defiance, but she cared little for she had made her decision.

xXx

Oropher slumped against the nearest tree trunk, his chest heaving as he attempted to curtail the pain in his heart. He pressed his forehead against the bark and breathed in, the splintering sensation of grief mingled with defeat was bewildering.

In his hand he held a ring, a charming silver ring that was engraved with flowers and in each of their heads sat a white stone. It was his betrothal ring for Lassiel, and he should have been the one to present it to her for all to see that evening...not Celeborn's brother.

Oropher knew Taraquen loathed him, he knew that he would never win the elf's approval, but he had hoped Lassiel's father would not stand in the way of his own daughter's happiness.

Oropher had bravely sought him out before the feast to ask his permission to  seek the hand of his daughter in marriage. Oropher had been blunt and honest with Taraquen, openly acknowledging their mutual dislike for one another but also reminding him of their shared adoration for his daughter.  To his shock Taraquen did not speak, he simply looked Oropher up and down and walked off. He had assumed that this meant he had declined to give his permission, but permission was not exactly necessary it was just the decent thing to do, and in all honesty Oropher had expected as much. It was irrelevant for he would ask her anyway, it just would have been preferential for her family to be present for the joyous occasion, because that would have delighted Lassiel and that was all he wanted...her happiness.

Now it was clear that Taraquen had made other plans. He was countering Oropher's moves all along and providing his daughter with much more admirable options.  With Galathil she would be a Princess by title, her estate would be grand, her future offspring would be deemed fit to rule.  She would have jewels and wealth beyond comparison, and a noble husband who would enlighten her with his intellect and charm, but she would live in a cage...a beautiful stone cage.

His heart sank at the thought of bearing witness to any of this, he could not envision himself being able to stomach the image of her mated to another.  The mere thought caused him to choke, and his fingers clawed through his hair. No! No, he would win her back if he had to, he would grovel at Taraquen's feet if he must, or he would beg Galathil to give up his claim. Lassiel was meant for him, he felt it in his bones and he knew that she felt this too. 

Long nights they had spent under trees, kissing and exploring each other, testing the very limits of their restraint and discipline.  They spoke of their desire for elflings - Lassiel wanted as many as she could possibly be blessed with. She had laughed giddily when he also admitted to wanting a whole troop of youngsters.  Both of them had grown up as lone children, and both did not want the same solitude for their own family. Lassiel spoke of living near the woods and growing her own food, and he had eagerly agreed, almost picturing himself in his gardens tending her orchards and vegetable patches.  All of their plans weaved together beautifully, and he never doubted for a moment that he could not will it all into being for her...he still did not doubt!

Turning swiftly on his heel, Oropher made to return to the party. He may not hold the same prestige as Galathil, but he was a noble lord with rank and entitlement.  If his meagre beginnings offended his peers then they had not looked hard enough at his parentage.  For if they had, they would have known that although his father was a mere carpenter, his mother was not. Thus, young Oropher would not be overlooked by a pompous foreigner who had no knowledge of who he was slandering!

Having reached the outer gardens of Taraquen's grand estate, Oropher noticed an enlarged presence at the gates.  Five ellyn stood tall and armed - not dressed for a party in the slightest. Confused, Oropher held up a peaceful hand at the suddenly riled bunch of males. 

"I want no trouble," Oropher muttered, a frown deepening his brow as he gathered the ill intent behind the group as they stalked towards him. "I am a guest of the Lady Curuni, I come peacefully."

"No, my lord Oropher, you are no guest," the elder one chuckled darkly, and Oropher registered that he knew the elf. He was a connection to Celeborn's House, a guard or sentry of some kind - he was a warrior. 

"I believe threatening someone above your station is a little foolish," Oropher reminded the other elf sternly, lamenting the idea of this turning into a brawl over an offence he did not give purposefully.

"I believe insulting a Lord above your station is equally as foolish," the elf sneered and his comrades jeered darkly.

"I gave no offence," Oropher spoke calmly, though his temper began to spike. "I have committed nothing to be treated so unfairly...why are you threatening me?"

"My lord Galathil was insulted and shamed by the public refusal of his proposal to the Lady Curuni tonight," the elf replied, his lip quirking into a sneer, "they say it was because of you, Oropher, they say you lay claim to the lady...they say you stole her honour."

And with that Oropher punched the elf square in his haughty face.

The blood sprouted from the elf's nose as he staggered back, a glint in his darkened eyes, and Oropher knew in an instant he had been well and truly set up.

The length of a heartbeat passed before the group of ellyn launched on him. Fists and jeers flying without any decorum or restraint. It was a brawl, a dirty, back handed, fight, which Oropher had brought on himself by reacting to the vile and untrue rumour over Lassiel. He could have cursed his stupidity.

He fought back of course, but five-on-one was an unfair advantage and the realisation of his fatal mistake had taken the wind clean out of him. So, as the elf he recognised hauled him off the ground one last time - fist drawn back to deliver the finishing blow - Oropher merely shook his head in dismay...why did it come to this?

"The Lady Curuni is not yours to possess," the elf snarled darkly, his pale face decorated a greenish purple from the few good digs Oropher had successfully achieved.

"Agreed," Oropher coughed, feeling the numbness set in about his lips and his jaw stiffening from the many punches, but still he forced a smile; "then you may remind your good lord Taraquen, and perhaps also Galathil, that Lady Curuni is no lords possession...only a fool would chain a wild spirit."
For his crassness he received another hard blow to this face, and pausing to spit the blood from his mouth he choked back a hard laugh. 

"You are not wanted here Oropher...that is the command of the Lord of this estate," the brutish elf hissed, shoving him down on the cold ground and kicking him hard in the gut.  "You are not to even look upon his daughter, and if you do the consequences will be dire...that is a promise."

"Then his lordship will have to keep good on his promise," Oropher groaned, coughing and wheezing in attempt to breathe through the pain.  Again he pushed himself up onto his knees before being callously kicked in the ribs again.  Letting out a moan as he felt the crack in his side, he slumped to the ground again, gritting his teeth in anger at the pathetic manners of a poor lord.  He twisted his head to the side and grinned wickedly; "but I imagine Lord Taraquen will have to send his dogs to do his bidding...only a coward lets others fight his battles."

Oropher felt the fingers lace through his hair, and the shouts of anger at his insult, before his head was brought down hard on the rocks.  His vision blurred, but he still smirked, for he knew in a moment he would always be more than these lesser elves.  His only anger lay in the fact that his beloved was still subject to their idiotic and cowardly ways.  He did not know how, but he'd free her...that was his promise.