150 Years Ago - Southern Harlindon, Ossiriand.

The mansion is full to the brim, I could barely move as I was led through the throngs of guests. All Sindar nobility of the South Harlindon City; aristocratic, elegant, fine-featured, and dripping in the finery of the Noldor. 

I felt my nose scrunch upwards in a disgusted grimace as I caught their appraising looks. I saw how they looked upon the Silvan who had journeyed with us - they stared at them with brazen haughtiness.  I even noted how some looked horrified, or just plain confused by our coarse apparel and naivety to the dazzling brightness of courtly life. No matter what expressions they all held, there was a familiarity in all of them...pity.

Pity that their lord's daughter would be bound to such an uncouth nation. Pity, that one such as the Lady Bregeth would have her fine talents wasted in such a faraway and savage land. I felt my jaw set in a hard and uncomfortable position...this was not how I imagined this day.

"Thranduil," Raffyn, my father's second in command, lowered his head as if to whisper something pleasant in my ear. "You will frighten the young lady by wearing such a scowl."

"Good!" I snarled in response, "then at least she will understand her place...I will not tolerate such indifference to our people."

"Thranduil...please attempt to be understanding," Raffyn continued, with that still stupid smile plastered across his face. "You are asking the young lady to leave the only home she has ever known to be your wife...this is no small thing."

"She knows what she has agreed to," I growl, still maintaining my cold mask.  "If this is to be a union out of duty, then let us keeps things as detached as possible. Logic led us to this point, there is little use for emotions now."

"Ai, Thranduil," Raffyn groans, and lets me stride past him to be welcomed by our host...Lord Bregon of East Harlindon. A noble Lord of the city, a fine warrior, and an elf dripping in foreign wealth. I am certain Adar is being compensated handsomely for this marriage.

The elf in question is equally as tall and lean as his daughter, with the same distant blue eyes that see far too much.  Unlike his daughter he does appear to be enthused by my presence, and greets me with all the ferocity of long parted friends;

"Prince Thranduil, welcome," Bregon embraces me warmly, clapping a hand on my shoulders to guide me through to a dimly lit private lounge. "It is always so wonderful to be in the presence of one of Lassiel's blood. I am certain you hear this often, but you are truly like your mother's kin...honourable people they were."

"Yes," I reply coolly, as I shrug off my cloak and toss it uncaringly over the nearest armchair; "but they say I have my father's bearing." With a smirk I unsheathe a hidden long knife and present the handle to my host; "They say I enjoy the thrill of war too much...here, my lady probably does not approve of me lounging around her home with deadly weapons."

"i would agree that she would not," Bregon replies with an unimpressed sniff, and elegantly takes the knife from my grasp. I suppress a wicked grin, Adar warned me these folk were not accustomed to the wild freeness of our own culture. He had also warned me to remember my manners, I was raised to adhere to both my heritages and therefore should not offend those of my kin...but the opportunity was to good to pass up.

"My daughter shall be here shortly," Bregon continues, as he saunters to a ornate mahogany sideboard laden with various wines and malts. "She is most excited to be with you once again my lord, she has been looking forward to the day in which you both could official announce your engagement."

"Hmm, well that is not how I remembered her parting last spring. She told me not to rush back," I reply and raise an eyebrow, I cannot abide liars, especially not those who blatantly lie to ease my pride.

"Yes, well Bregeth can be a little coarse with her words," Bregon chuckles humourlessly, and hands me off a fine crystal glass overfilled with a deep crimson wine.  I tentatively inhale the heady fragrance, only to be bitterly disappointed. This is a common place vintage, not something you serve to a guest especially not a prince, I am becoming less enamoured by this place with every passing moment. Bregon chatters on though, as if he has never insulted me; "Sometimes she struggles to express how she truly feels, she was raised not to show weakness...I am sure you can appreciate that such tactics are required in battle and in politics?"

I merely smile at my host, with a hard and forced smile that is so telling of my thoughts on the matter. Yes, such strength is essential in war and in political games but not in a marriage? Or at least I had never witnessed my mother employ such tactics with my father.  Adar had said we were well matched, he had said Bregon was Naneth's friend and that it would thrill her if I found happiness with his daughter. He had also forcibly reminded me of my duty; with no Queen to rule our lands and no hope for additional heirs, then the hope of the continuation of our line and the future of our kingdom depended on me. Me...a father? The thought is laughable! I never wanted this, I am not even sure I want to be bound to another for eternity. A wife...I never gave much thought to what or who my wife would be, but I suppose Bregeth looks like an elleth I could picture as a Princess, as one that could handle the demands of my life.

"Oh darling, just on time!" Bregon cries in faux delight, as he flamboyantly announces the arrival of his daughter, and I immediately straighten up and turn to face the elleth who shall be my bride.

My breath quickens and my chest constricts, because Bregeth is flawless. She is exceptionally tall, with streams of shimmering golden brown hair framing her elegantly long neck and extenuating the luminosity of a perfect complexion. The deep navy of her silk gown skims over her taut and muscular body, reminding me that she may be beautiful but she is deadly as well. Her unreadable blue eyes scan and catalogue the room until they land on me, they widen slightly, before becoming as distant as ever.

"My lord," Bregeth mutters breathily before folding into a perfect curtsey, "it is wonderful to be in your company again, I have longed very much for it ."

"My lady," I reply with the same airy tone, bowing slightly, "I am overjoyed to know this, I was uncertain if you would welcome me here again."

"And why would I not?" She asks her voice spiking and I feel my temper rise at her challenging tone; "I have waited very patiently for the day that I may announce to the world, that I - a lowly lady of Lindon - will marry an Elven Prince! I am a lucky elleth, or so I am told."

"Do I detect sarcasm?" I ask, my voice lowering in agitation for it appears another one of our meetings is going to dissolve into an argument...typical!

"Oh, no you must be mistaken!" Bregeth answers me, much abashed by my assessment. "I am positively thrilled my lord, truly this is the most wonderful day of my life."

"Bregeth..." Bregon hushes, his face turning stoney and I reckon this is all a front to goad her father. Well, I cannot blame her I would probably do the same thing if mine were here.

"Oh Adar do not fuss," Bregeth pouts and flicks her hand at her father, "I am simply playing my part as you so eloquently suggested, now why don't you go entertain our guests and leave me with my soon to be husband...we must be reacquainted after such a long absence."

Before either Bregon and I can articulate any further conversation, Bregeth skips up to me and drapes her arms around my shoulders. Within the next heartbeat her lips are crushed against mine, and I can do nothing but stand glued to this very spot in utter shock. There is nothing warm or loving about her kiss, it is cold, dead, and motionless. For all her beauty I feel absolutely nothing for her, I feel no spark or desire to deepen the embrace, but I understand that I must try. So for the sake of playing the part I regain use of my hand, and slide up her neck to cradle her face and run my thumb along her cheek. I sense Bregon give a shocked gasp and he mutters something like an agreement, before leaving the room. Once he has vacated my hand turns rough, as I forcibly push Bregeth away and glare furiously at her;

"What was that?" I hiss when she simply grins uncaringly.

"It was a kiss," she chuckles and raises an eyebrow, "Oh please tell me that was not your first? How quaint?"

"It was not my first!" I scowl and step back from her, outstretching my hand so she cannot follow. "I mean why did you do that? You have never so much as held my hand, and now you brazenly kiss me in front of your father...is this some kind of game, for if it is I do not want any part of it!"

"Well if it was not your first then you need some practice," She titters boldly and flounces down on the nearest settee, gesturing for me to come sit by her, of course I refuse. She simply sighs at my stubbornness and rolls her eyes; "Thranduil we are announcing our engagement tonight, the people will expect to see some kind of affection from us. Besides, if we are to be married then we should at least become accustomed with the idea, after all it takes a little more than kissing to produce an heir."

"Why must you talk like that?"  I ask almost involuntarily as I slap my hands down hard in exasperation, on the arm of the settee she sits on. She blinks in confusion and frowns, her perfect blood red lips pursing in consideration.

"I do not understand, what do you mean?" Her question is truly innocent, she honestly cannot see a flaw in her words. With a groan I sink onto the end of the settee she is curled up on, keeping my eyes fixed ahead as I consider the right words;

"Why must you talk like this is nothing more than a series of commands that must be executed," I murmur sadly, because I realise that try as I might I am incapable of keeping emotion out of this. "Bregeth, an heir? An heir is an elfling...an innocent child...our child? You cannot approach parenthood like you approach politics or a battlefield, a child needs love! Bregeth we do not even know how to love one another...how can we love a child?"

"Ai, Thranduil you are reading far too much into this," Bregeth sighs and inspects her nails as if she is bored with the conversation. "You allow your heart to rule your thoughts too much, you think too deeply over things that are as natural and common place as breathing. Couples have been having elflings since the beginning of time, it is just another part of life. An elfling needs nothing more than nourishment, stability, and care. All of which a nursemaid can provide, now stop fretting over inconsequential things."

"But I was not raised by a nursemaid Bregeth, at least not as an infant," I push the issue, and receive another irritated sigh but I continue nonetheless; "It is not right, and I am uncomfortable with how reluctant you are to discuss these concerns with me. If we are to be married then we should at least attempt to understand our thoughts on such important matters."

"Nonsense," Bregeth mutters and shoves herself up from the chair turning to glare fiercely at me. "There is nothing to discuss Thranduil. I have agreed to be your wife and you have agreed to be my husband, we will share a bed and if Eru permits, I will provide you with an heir...it is as simple as that! Now, come, we must announce are engagement to our guests."

I watch her walk away from me, I watch the resoluteness in her stance, and the determination in her walk, and the horrid cold truth of the situation dawns on me. She will always walk away from me, for she doesn't truly want me, or should I say she does not want what I do. We may be alike in nature, in stature, in mind, and in beauty...but we are worlds apart when it comes to the desires of our hearts.

This will never work...

Present Day - Halls of the King, Greenwood the Great.

"Is it to your liking my lord?"

"Yes, yes they are flawless as alway mellon nin."

The royal silversmith beams proudly, his broad smile stretching further across his face when he studies me more carefully. I shift a little uncomfortably under his gaze, as I return the silver betrothal rings back in their box, and produce a small pouch of coins for his service.

"My thanks," he bows deeply but as he straightens he looks upon me with a knowing look; "You know it is not my place to pry into my customers privacy, but my lord, I only want to express my joy. I hope that the elleth that you plan to gift these fine jewels to is more deserving than the last...my craftsmanship should be worn by those worthy of it."

"And so they shall," I reply brightly, intent on not divulging too much to the silversmith. "I can assure you she is ten thousand times more deserving of your craftsmanship than the last. She will wear them with honour, of that I can promise."

"Well then your highness, congratulations," He replies and returns to his furnace to continue working on another assignment.

"Do I have your assurance that you will keep this quiet?" I ask once more, and the ellon smiles broadly again.

"A good silversmith protects the identity of his customers," he replies and then gives a bright laugh, "and I am one of the best my lord."

"I would not dispute it," I chuckle and nod my thanks to him as I exit the dwelling to make for home with my purchase tucked in my robe pocket.

My footsteps are light, and I cannot contain the excitement mingled with nerves as I take the quickest route home. My mind races ahead of me, plotting of all the ways I shall ask her, and conjuring up all the ways in which she will react. Not once do I consider that she would refuse me, because I feel so certain about this. There is nothing I have been more certain of in my whole existence, even if she makes me wait I will wait an eternity for her. There is nothing I want more, and I will not let this chance slip through my hands. For once I think I am beginning to understand what this "love" means, and I like what I feel, I like what we have...it fees right.