The Ranger And The Prince.

Thranduil's Wrath.

After three weeks of hard work, Mirkwood was finally beginning to get back on track. All the Orc bodies had been burnt and the blood had been cleaned from the walls. The dead elves had been identified and were returned to their families. The injured were finally back to their feet and life in Mirkwood was seemingly returning to normal.

Thranduil had been true to his word so far, we could at least hold civil conversations without flinging passive aggressive insults at each other. I knew we would probably never be on the same page but it was at least a start.

Me and Legolas had received a letter from Gimli that week. He had been back to the Blue Mountains but was currently traveling to Erebor. He hoped we were fairing well and wished we could see each other soon.

Now that the Kingdom was secure once again, Thranduil had ordered a feast to be held in honour of the elves that had died. It reminded me of the celebration King Théoden had held after our victory at Helm's Deep.

To my surprise, Thranduil had invited me to sit with him and Legolas at his own personal table. Perhaps he really was making an effort to be nice to me.

Deciding it would be rather rude to turn up to the King's table in dirty ranger clothes, I asked the royal seamstress to rustle up a loose black dress for me to wear.

She was dancing around, planning an elaborate dress, fit for a royal but I had protested against this and insisted it be plain.

In the end, she made me a black, ankle length dress which wasn't particularly fitted around the middle which I was greatfull for. I was relieved she had stopped herself from going overboard with details. Silver lace had been sticked to the seams so I seemed to shimmer around the edges. It wasn't too low cut so I was thankful for that as well.

I was belting one of my daggers to my thigh when I heard Legolas knock at my door. When I opened it, Legolas was clad in a silver tunic and trousers.

"Don't tell me," I smirked, "You're here to escort me to your grand celebration?"

"How did you know?" He asked innocently though I could see his smirk.

"Well you're hardly here to clean my room," I scoffed, closing the door behind me.

He held his arm out for me to take but I hesitated. Technically, me and Legolas were not courting. As far as anyone else knew, we were just friends or traveling companions. I knew that if Legolas had immediately introduced me to his father as the woman he was courting, I believe Thranduil would have exploded with rage.

"Are you sure?" I asked, gingerly taking his arm, "I am still not in your father's good graces. If he believes I am more to you than-"

"You are," he interjected, cutting me off, "I am tired of my father treating you like some thorn he can't get rid off. You may be on better terms now but I do not care. I love you and I want him to see that."

Stunned into silence, I let Legolas lead the way through the corridors towards the grand hall. I knew that as we entered all eyes fell on us. After all, I was linked arms with their prince.

The hall was beautiful, the walls lined with carvings of ivy. The chandelier which hung Fromm the ceiling seemed to produce pure starlight.

Legolas and I made our way to the King's table where Thranduil sat rigid and puzzled by our linked arms. Of course, linking arms could mean other things, as far as he was concerned, Legolas may have just been polite.

Legolas sat beside his father so that when I went to sit beside him, Legolas was in between me and Thranduil should he need to intervene.

As all the guest finally took their seats, Thranduil sat up and raised his glass in front of him. He was dressed in a silver robe as always, with a crown of blossoms upon his head. Only in Mirkwood did the crown of the King change so frequently, he had new crowns made every season and this being spring, he wore blossoms.