The Ranger And The Prince.

White Gems.

I didn't have much to pack, I had spent most of my life on the road, there was never any need for possessions. All I needed to collect from my room was my weapons.

Silent tears streamed down my cheek but I didn't have the will to wipe them away, they would only be replaced by more.

I grabbed a piece of parchment from my bedside table and dipped my quill in the ink pot next to it.

'Keep the necklace.' was all I wrote as I threw the parchment on the bed.

I wasn't sure where I would go. Minas Tirith was nearly a month's ride away but I knew that Aragorn and Arwen would gladly let me stay.

I didn't want to go to Aragorn's kingdom though. It seemed like such a selfish and pitiful thing but I didn't want to be hosted by them because they had each other. No one was stopping them from being in love.

Gimli was at Erebor. The Lonely Mountain was definitely closer than Minas Tirith. I had been there a few times in my life and as far as I was aware, the King did not hate me as Thranduil did.

King Dáin Ironfoot was rash, reckless and ill tempered but if rubbed the right way, he was a powerful ally. He wasn't the most regal of Kings but I didn't mind that, it just meant he was more down for a drink and a good jest. My last encounter with him was nearly thirty years ago when I had accompanied some dwarves from the Iron Hills to Erebor.

I didn't know what I would do after I got there but for now, all I was focused on was leaving. The sooner I left, the further I could get away.

I pulled on my cloak and fixed my scarf around my neck as I hurried to the stables. I quickly packed some supplies on the nearest horse and addled up.

Before I knew it, I was thrashing at the reigns, galloping out of the stables and into the forest of Mirkwood.

If I stayed roughly by the river, I would reach the edge of the lake which stood at the base of the Lonely Mountain. From there, I would travel along the banks for near of a week and find myself in the City of Dale. With any luck, King Dáin Ironfoot would allow me entrance to Erebor, where I could meet up with Gimli.

***

Four days had passed and still I felt uneasy. Mirkwood itself was a terrifying place if you didn't know all its secrets. I no longer had the elven road to guide me so I was blind in terms of vantage points or spider nests. The whole of the forest seemed to be covered in cobwebs so I did not know if I was being watched by the spiders or not.

I hadn't slept at all, no one could rest while being in a cursed forest such as Mirkwood. Like some elves I had come across, both me and Legolas could rest while on the move. It was a special elven trick wherein one could be awake and open-eyed but be sleeping inside. It could come in handy a few times but I tended not to use that trick because it wasn't as good as real sleep and after a while, it could lead to headaches.

My mind was too occupied to rest anyways. I thought of Legolas over and over again. I loved him, that much was plain to me now, but I had fled anyways out of fear his father would actually kill me.

I didn't want to leave, in fact, I was tempted more than once to turn back and run back into Legolas' arms. But my rational mind told me it was best to leave now.

In folklore and fairy tales, it is said there are only two ways to kill an elf.

They can be slain in battle.

Or they can die of a broken heart.

For the first time in my life, I feared the latter.

***