Lasgalen had never seen a more beautiful sky than on that night. All the Eldar considered light to be sacred, but the Sindar and the Silvan Elves had a special love for starlight, and they showed it with great enthusiasm. This was also because they were fond of wine, which made them more talkative. The stars themselves seemed to shine more brightly in that place. While Galadriel and the rest of Gil-Galad's retinue had dispersed into the crowd, dancing and talking, Lasgalen stood at the edge of the dance floor, her back resting against a column. Her gaze was calm and smiling. Those elves looked so happy and celebrated life in a way that was different from what she was used to seeing. Yet, she liked it even more. An endless love for the light, an eternal gratitude, repaid by a great zest for life.

The night had passed more swiftly than Lasgalen had realized, slipping away like a pleasant dream that fades at the first touch of morning light.
The feast, vibrant and immersive, had left behind a sense of fulfillment and quiet melancholy, as often happens after perfect moments. Now, while everyone was slowly retreating to their chambers for a well-earned rest, still wrapped in the echo of laughter and melodies, Lasgalen felt no desire to lie idly in bed. Every moment spent in the Woodland Realm was too precious to waste in sleep.
With a light step, she left her chambers, located in the heart of the great grey stone castle. It was a solemn and majestic building, whose austere appearance was softened only by the abundant light that streamed through its tall windows and open corridors, casting shadows and highlights upon the walls. Except for the silent guards stationed at various entrances, the castle seemed to rest in silence, as if it too was sleeping after the celebrations.

But as soon as Lasgalen stepped outside, that silence was broken in the most delightful way. The forest, which during the night had seemed asleep and mysterious, was now awakened. Birds sang in unison, a harmonious and joyful choir; the wind stirred the leaves gently, brushing them like delicate fingers upon the strings of an instrument; and the air was filled with a pure, unspoiled harmony. Every sound seemed part of an ancient language that the earth itself wished to share with her.
Before her lay the elven path, paved with pale pebbles, leading into the forest's embrace. Without hesitation, she began to follow it. The path blended perfectly with the landscape: not a single stone disrupted the natural flow of the terrain, and it seemed as though the trail had been born with the forest itself. The morning light filtered through the green leaves, casting golden reflections on the damp earth and spreading a soft, maternal warmth.

It was then that a butterfly with orange wings fluttered gently before her face, dancing in the air with delicate, unpredictable movements. Lasgalen smiled instinctively, reaching out a finger in the hope that the creature would land upon it. But the butterfly had other plans, continuing its flight off the marked trail, disappearing among the trees.
Lasgalen watched the graceful insect drift away, then glanced back briefly at the path behind her. It was an impulsive, almost childlike decision. In a few moments, she removed her shoes, tying them with practiced ease to the loose belt at her waist. Her bare feet touched the warm earth, and a long-forgotten feeling surged through her. That primal connection to the land, to the deep roots of trees, to the sacred simplicity of life in the forest.

How long had it been since she'd done this? Walked barefoot through the woods...She never did that in the Grey Havens. The last time she remembered doing so, was when she was still a child, and her parents were alive. The memory of those distant days returned to her with bittersweet tenderness: carefree laughter, running among the trees, a mother's gentle touch, stories told beneath the stars.
And so, with a light heart and eyes full of wonder, Lasgalen stepped into the woods, letting herself be guided by the butterfly and that feeling of freedom that only true, untouched nature could offer her.

"Ah! I've got you! I'm coming!" her father would say, amused, while little Lasgalen ran across the soft moss, trying not to be caught.

"Run, little rabbit!" her mother would shout from where she sat on a rock, watching the scene. She still remembered her mother's smile, the dimples on her cheeks, and that radiant grin. Then she remembered her father, who always managed to catch her again: his long, red hair would tickle her face, but not more than he did with his hands once he caught her! The little girl would laugh uncontrollably, and she remembered how much joy it gave her to see her parents laugh happily at her own delight.

As she revisited her memories, Lasgalen followed the butterfly with a focused gaze, until she arrived at a large rock that jutted out from the earth. The small creature flew upwards, slowly vanishing into the branches of the trees, until Lasgalen could no longer follow it with her eyes. But as she passed the boulder, she discovered that she had reached a height, and beneath her was a tranquil stream of cool water that formed a small depression in the ground, perfect for quenching the thirst of the woodland creatures. The crystal-clear waters reflected the blue sky and surrounding greenery, creating an image so serene it seemed almost like a dream.

Suddenly, her gaze was drawn to something extraordinary. She immediately bent down, captivated by what was unfolding before her. A creature was drinking from the clear water, something Lasgalen had never seen before: a white deer. Its coat was so pure it seemed sculpted from snow, and its eyes reflected a quiet intelligence, as though it had always been a part of that world. The creature sensed her presence and, for a moment, stopped, staring at her with a deep and wise gaze. Lasgalen remained still, enchanted by its beauty, not daring to move for fear of startling it. The deer, with serene composure, returned to its drinking, its calm breath merging with the sound of the flowing water. When it finished, it gracefully and elegantly slowly disappeared among the trees, as though it had been an apparition.

Lasgalen let out a soft laugh of wonder, her heart full of joy. There was so much beauty inhabiting Middle-earth, beauty that often went unnoticed by many. And to think, for a moment, she had almost missed its splendor. She sighed deeply, as though she wanted to hold on to that moment for as long as possible, and sat peacefully on the ground, pulling her knees to her chest. How much her parents would have loved to see all this. She was certain of it. The vegetation surrounding her was a bit different from the forest where she had grown up, but she knew her family would have appreciated every single corner of this land. Her parents had loved all the forests in Middle Earth, regardless of place or form, because every woodland had its own magic.

It was then that a voice interrupted her calm thoughts.
"It's rare to see him around here."
Lasgalen spun around, her heart suddenly quickening. She remained composed, though inside, she felt a slight nervousness. The Prince of the Woodland Realm was leaning against the large rock, a pleased smile on his face. His platinum hair gleamed amidst the green of the vegetation, his blue eyes mirrored the tranquility of the surrounding landscape. His high, full cheekbones and his expression, so natural and at ease, made him an intriguing figure hard to ignore. During the feast the night before, they hadn't had many opportunities to speak, just a few exchanged glances and fleeting smiles.
The moment she recognized him, she relaxed a little, returning the smile. However, the thought of being alone with him unsettled her, even though her rational side told her there was nothing to fear.

"Are you already up, Prince?" she asked, slowly rising to her feet, trying to break the ice more for herself than for him. She didn't want to make a bad impression, or worse, do something that could tarnish Gil Galad.

"I'm used to this kind of reception, but the real surprise is seeing you out and about" replied the prince, amused and intrigued.

After a brief pause, marked by their exchanged smiles, she spoke again. She didn't like staying silent.

"I've never seen such a beautiful creature, nor did I even know it existed, but I suppose there are exceptions in every species" she continued, referring to the magnificent deer.

"The only specimen ever spotted resides in these woods. It's a solitary type, but that doesn't make it unfriendly" he added, never taking his eyes off her.

"Do you often have the habit of walking barefoot?" he asked, amused, but purely ironic, with no intent to offend. It was then that she lowered her gaze and noticed how her feet had become soiled with dirt. She couldn't help but let out a light laugh.

"Forgive me, I used to do it as a child. I haven't done so in a long time, but your forest is too beautiful, and I couldn't resist the temptation" she said, smiling slightly. He smiled back, clearly pleased with her answer.

"Oh, you needn't apologize. I agree with you about the charm of this place and the influence it has on the souls who wander through it" the prince said, stepping forward towards the stream. Instinctively, Lasgalen took a step back, trying to hide it as much as possible. But the prince's eyes were as sharp as they seemed.

"Have I offended you in any way? I apologize if I have" he said after a moment, his expression serious, with a genuine concern that he had done something out of place. She didn't know him well, but judging by how he had behaved all night at the party, he seemed like an elf very attentive to every word, movement, or action he made. He gave the impression of someone trying to rigorously uphold the role assigned to him. Lasgalen felt a slight pang of guilt. She had probably made him uncomfortable.

"Not at all, Your Highness" she said, trying to reassure him with a smile as she moved forward, gently sliding down the small slope to the ground below, where the little pond formed by the stream lay. The prince followed, visibly relieved. She approached the water, and with one hand, she brushed the cold, flowing water, her messy braid falling in front of her shoulder.

"We didn't have much chance to get to know each other yesterday, I barely know your name" he said.

Lasgalen smiled.

"I'm not sure if I have anything really interesting to tell" she replied, looking at him, noticing how he had sat down at the edge of the small lake.

"You come from the West, right?"

"Yes, that's true. There are beautiful forests there, although different from these" she said, looking up.

"I've never visited them so far, I confess it's been a wish of mine for some time."

"If you come to visit us at the Gray Havens, my companions and I could show you everything. I'm sure you'd like it" he smiled, admiring how she played with the flowing water.

"They were the ones who brought me to the city. Some of them you met yesterday at the feast."

"Oh, and where did you live before?" Lasgalen sighed deeply.

"My parents and I lived in one of the nearby forests, but... one day, a group of men still loyal to Morgoth found us, and I was the only survivor" the harmonious contact with the water broke, and she let the water flow against her hand, not following its movement.

"I'm deeply sorry for your loss. I can't imagine what that must have been like" he said, his face darkening, but Lasgalen didn't have the courage to look at him.

"Everything got better when they found me. Galadriel, Daenor, Elrond. I truly owe everything to them." The strength of their memory made her lift her gaze again, her eyes slightly misty with emotion.

"You were part of the team that exterminated those barbarians, weren't you?" In fact, Lasgalen couldn't be too surprised: while it hadn't been made public, it was plausible that the rulers of other realms were aware of the situation. The redhead nodded, pulling her hand from the water, shaking it slightly in the air, and placing it on her dress.

"We also scoured the area from top to bottom during that time. I'm happy to say that such evil has been eradicated."

"I truly hope so, Prince" Lasgalen said, her tone slightly more thoughtful.

"Please call me Thranduil, if it doesn't trouble you" he replied, his voice calm and deep.

"A special favor?" Lasgalen asked, a smile revealing a hint of irony.

"You've certainly earned it, showing up in the forest barefoot in the early morning" Thranduil joked, looking at her with a playful light in his eyes. "You seem like a Silvan elf." They both smiled, finding a certain lightness in their exchange.

"Then you can call me by my first name, and call me Lasgalen" she replied, and the blonde elf smiled at her gently, as though that gesture marked a new beginning in their conversation.

"Alright, Lasgalen" he said, his smile warming the atmosphere.

There was a brief silence before they resumed speaking.

"Do you have any places you'd recommend, Thranduil? This is my very first time here, and I don't want to miss a single detail of this magnificent place."

"I can show you the forest if you'd like. Everything here is beautiful, but I must admit that there are places that have captured my interest more than others."
At that moment, once again, Lasgalen felt that tightness in her chest, and she hated herself. Once more, that fear, that terror of being alone with someone, despite knowing she could defend herself and being fully aware that his company would certainly not be violent or overbearing.

"It would be an honor."

Thranduil then stood up, offering his hand to the young elf. She took it, warm compared to her hand still cold from the water. He released her hand as soon as she was standing. He didn't want her to feel uncomfortable.

"Let's go then, we have the whole day" he said in a calm tone that actually concealed a certain enthusiasm.

They spent the day walking through the forest, immersed in the serenity of nature that surrounded them. They stopped often to admire small waterfalls cascading over rocks, leaving behind a relaxing and melodic sound. The tree branches formed a green canopy above them, while squirrels dashed between the branches with their typical agility, and deer, shy and majestic, crossed the clearing with silent steps. The insects, with their vivid colors and iridescent wings, fluttered lightly among the wildflowers, creating an atmosphere that seemed straight out of a dream.

They walked along numerous streams, whose peaceful and continuous flow accompanied each step, and finally reached a great river that, with its power, flowed toward the City of the Lake. Its surface sparkled under the sun, and its sound evoked a sense of natural majesty. They climbed to high plateaus from which they could see Amon Lac, the mountain that dominated the horizon, its towering height seeming almost to touch the sky. Lasgalen stopped for a long moment, admiring the breathtaking view, and Thranduil, silent by her side, seemed lost in those landscapes he knew so well.

They visited the homes of the elves, small dwellings of wood and stone, hidden among the lush vegetation and surrounded by the songs of birds. The villages were alive and welcoming, filled with elves who smiled at the prince and curiously observed the young elf who accompanied him. Every encounter with the locals seemed to confirm how strong and respected the bond between Thranduil and his people was. Lasgalen felt the eyes of everyone on her, but not in an intrusive way: there was a certain grace in the interest shown by the people of the forest.

They had lunch with fruit found in the forest, and as the hours passed, they got to know each other more and more.

Lasgalen, perhaps thinking about how easily she might be forgotten by someone like the prince of the Woodland Realm, let herself go, allowing the witty, sweet, and adventurous side of her to emerge. A side she had taken years to show in the Grey Havens, for fear of not being accepted. Thranduil, in turn, revealed himself to be just as kind and thoughtful an elf, sarcastic yet playful, and he thoroughly enjoyed conversing and spending time with the young elf.
Hours passed in the blink of an eye, and as evening approached, when the sky began to turn orange and pink, the day neared its end. They agreed to return to Amon Lac before the sun set. They paused at the entrance to the castle:

"It's been a very pleasant day" he began, the orange light of the sun contrasting with his blue eyes.

"It has been for me as well, Vigorous Spring" she said with an amused smile, while he laughed in surprise.

"So, you're interested in the meaning of names, intriguing" he replied.

"Family passion."

"Well, know that I share it too, Winter Star" he said softly, his hands behind his back, leaning slightly forward before stepping back with a smile. Lasgalen's joy and surprise, unfortunately, disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"Lasgalen!" someone shouted her name, and that someone was Gil Galad. The redhead wanted to sink into the ground, just from the look of fury in the High King's eyes.

"Where have you been?! Without even notifying anyone! Do you realize what-"

"High King, the fault is mine. I was the one who took Lady Lasgalen to visit the Realm. I hope you can forgive my audacity and I humbly ask for your pardon" said Thranduil, bowing his head as he spoke to the brown-haired king. Lasgalen stood frozen, watching the scene, not even having the time to respond. Gil Galad stood watching him with a stern expression.

"You can say that again" came the cold voice of Oropher, his presence appearing without warning. Lasgalen had no idea howshe knew, but it seemed as though she could hear Thranduil's blood shiver at those words.

"To the front halls. Now." said the king, whose serene and benevolent look from the night before had been replaced by an elf with a cold and angry gaze. Thranduil lowered his head and, glancing briefly at his father, walked with his head held high toward the front halls, unable to offer a final farewell to Lasgalen.

"Forgive me, High King, King Oropher, it won't happen again" she said in a deep, serious tone as she bowed to both of them. When Gil Galad slightly shifted his posture to let her pass, she didn't hesitate to make her way down the path to her chambers.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her. On one hand, she was worried for Thranduil. On the other hand, she thought that after all, he was a prince, and he wouldn't face much of a punishment. In any case, she found his gesture incredibly kind, and she couldn't wait to see him again to thank him.

It had been a beautiful day of
Vigorous Spring.