Golden autumn had now truly turned into a season of storm winds and rain, and though the trade negotiations had ended, the three men of the Long Lake did not leave. The same weather that impaired any intention the king might have had to send for Mary, or his son, hindered the men from travelling back to their homes in Esgaroth.

One day, when the wind was quieter for a short while, I took a walk in the park with Haryl, and the young man's comments made me giggle as usual. There seemed to be no end to his inquisitiveness! He was a pleasant conversation partner, though he did touch on the edge of unseemliness when he asked, innocently as always, in which kind of tree I had slept.

It was beyond me how he could have any knowledge at all about my night with Haldir, as I hadn't even told Mary much about it, but, blushing, I pointed at a large beech and he didn't press the issue further. He just nodded and said something about beech trees being very suitable for squirrels.

Otherwise, I did not see much of the men, or the king, except during the meals. It was quite clear that the humans' prolonged presence in Thranduil's halls did nothing to ease the bad mood he had seemed to be in more or less all the time, ever since the negotiations began and Mary left. He seemed jolly now and then, but not for longer periods, and he never sent for me or came to my room. It tormented me to no end, but I did not want to add to my king's burdens by asking why.

Thaladir became my sleeping draught, and I was grateful for that. I don't know if I could have endured the king coming to my room, sitting on my bed, reaching out his hand to touch me, leaning his beautiful face with its royal features down to me, only to whisper words that would immediately put me to sleep. Even the mere thought of it was painful. The seneschal, His Excellency, was good to me. He gave me pleasure and afterwards he always held me close to his chest until I fell asleep. But he never stayed until the morning.

I took to reading. Most of the books I could find in the halls of Mirkwood were devoted to war and strategy, and I found myself reading the small volume of poetry again, the one I had found in the king's bookcase when I had only just arrived. It was in Elvish, so I could study it for hours, slowly turning the pages with the beautiful script, enjoying the verses without understanding each word.

They were upset with Legolas on several levels and I had no doubt that they were plotting the best way to teach him some manners, but I very firmly told them that I was capable of taking care of myself, so I hoped they weren't planning to do anything too evil to him. They seemed disappointed by that, confirming my suspicions.

"Look, guys, I know for a fact that your own sister never let you fight her battles for her, so don't expect me to. I got myself into this; I'll get myself out of it. Without nasty little pranks, thank you very much." I had to laugh at the look of chagrin they both shot me. "Uh huh, yeah, I know you were planning something. I have a brother; I know what to look for." Elrohir stuck his tongue out at me. "Yeah, yeah, save it for Mary and the ellith." They both laughed at that and we changed the subject.

Much later, having retired to the bed, I was dozing, sandwiched between them and listening to them talk softly to each other in Sindarin. I was lying on Elladan's left side, nestled so close that I was almost on top of him with my head resting on his chest. Elrohir lay on the other side of me, his very talented hands massaging my back and making every tense spot disappear. I felt one of them kiss my temple lightly, and I drifted off into sleep.

When I awoke the next morning, Elladan was gone and Elrohir was curled around me, watching me sleep. "Good morning, sweetling! Did you sleep well?" he asked with a drop dead gorgeous smile on his face. Oh, yum! A girl could definitely get spoiled waking up to a sight like this. His face was just inches from mine. What I was thinking must have shown on my face because his smile widened and became just a tad bit smug.

The door opened then and Elladan carefully maneuvered in, a loaded tray balanced on his arm. He smiled sweetly at me and closed the door behind him with his foot. "Good morning, fair lady! I thought perhaps that you might like a bit of breakfast before you begin to slave away on your stories." He set the tray down across my lap with a flourish and lifted the fine linen cloth that covered it.

"Geez-o-petes, Elladan! Do you think I'm part hobbit? I hope you two are planning on helping me eat this." The tray was so loaded that I doubt I could have carried it far. They were and they did, although they saw to it that I ate more than I normally would have. have.

A while after our breakfast was done, I shooed both of them out to go chase ellith. Duiniel, my keeper, appeared almost like magic as soon as they cleared out. She drew a bath for me and then braided my hair after I dressed. I thanked her and shooed her out as well, insisting that I would be working at least until midday.

I wasn't in the best of moods, but that usually worked well for writing battle scenes. I had a pivotal one coming up in my current story, so I popped my favorite fight scene music into the CD-ROM on my laptop and settled down to write some serious carnage.

And I was still sitting with my laptop, working on the battle scene to the musical accompaniment of Metallica's `Enter Sandman', when Mary finally walked in. She winced a bit at the volume of the music and I grinned. The same CD had driven Duiniel out of my room on more than one occasion. I called it my `elven housecleaning CD.' Besides, I wrote some of my best fight scenes while listening to it. I turned it down, switched to Blackmore's Night, and arched an eyebrow at her in my best imitation of Lord Elrond.

"Keeping company with Lord Glorfindel are we? Are you working down a list or something?" I kept my tone light, so that she knew I was only teasing her and, thankfully, she responded as I had intended, with laughter. "I sincerely hope that you had a better night than I did."

She shot me a puzzled look and told me that Glorfindel had been very interesting to talk to and that they had talked almost all night. She didn't seem to want to go into a lot of detail, and I respected her wishes. I then told her that I'd gotten upset at Legolas and doubted that he was still speaking to me. Duiniel poked her head in the door cautiously at that point and asked if we wished to have lunch here. Mary and I both agreed and she returned a few minutes later with a large tray for us.

As we ate, I went into greater detail about the argument I'd had with Legolas. She couldn't quite stifle a laugh when I told her that I'd called him a prick and slugged him.

"Sometimes a girl has to whack an elf to get his full attention," she said, a slight smile hovering on her face. I considered telling her to try it with Thranduil the next time he got froggy, but decided to leave well enough alone. She didn't need my advice, especially after the fiasco I'd created the night before.

I felt bad about slugging Legolas and calling him names, but not about the rest of what I'd said. I meant every word of that. His ignoring me unless we were doing the wild thing just wasn't going to be acceptable anymore. Between us, Mary and I decided that she would try to talk to Legolas and bring about a mending of the fences. She told me that he very likely felt as bad as I did, he was just a bit more stubborn about admitting it to himself or anyone else. I thanked her and she left to go pick a certain prince`s brain. I returned to my battle scene after switching the CDs back again.

When I had finally returned to my own room, after spending the night, and most of the morning, in Glorfindel's chambers, Glorcheniel, my personal elleth-in-waiting, was there to tell me that Sheraiah had been by the night before and had left a message for me. She was to be found in her own chambers, instead of Legolas's, and she wanted me to come and talk with her as soon as I could. The golden-eyed elleth could not tell me more than that.

I had brought a volume of Middle Earth history with me from Glorfindel's chambers. Unlike most of the books available in Elrond's grand library, this particular one was written in the Common Tongue and I could understand most of the language, although some of the obscure terms were foreign to me. I borrowed it with high hopes that it would provide an escape from my constant thoughts about Mirkwood, and Thranduil, and other things, like how much I missed him, and Mal.

But I put the lovely old leather-bound book aside, with a tinge of regret, and changed out of the gown I had slept in, bathed my face and hands, dressed in clean clothes, and set off in search of Sheraiah.

The poor thing was in quite a conflicted state of mind when I came to her room to find out what she wanted to talk with me about. She and Legolas had some type of quarrel the night before, quite heated from her description of it, and she was both afraid she had gone too far when she exploded in his face and glad that she had finally spoken her mind. She had not seen him since then, and it was growing late in the day; she was worried.

Lunch was brought to us on a tray, and we ate while I listened to Sheraiah telling me more details about her confrontation with Legolas and how she was a little sorry, upon further reflection, that she had lost her temper.

But, on the other hand, she kept returning to the fact that she was not sorry about telling him how much his hot and cold behavior was hurting her feelings. I agreed that it was a good idea to tell the prince her view of the situation, but perhaps insulting him had not been the best way to get him to stand still and answer questions.

She told me how she had always, before this, let him sweet talk her out of her determination to get an honest answer from him, but not this time. And, she included, never again would she fall for his charm.

However, Sheraiah sounded so sad that I could tell she was worried she might have destroyed the bond of affection that so obviously held them together, but, I was not worried about Legolas. I had faith he would come to his senses and make it up to her, but he might have a stubborn spell in the meantime. I advised her to do nothing; to be patient and let him come to her.

"The prince," I reminded her, "has a good heart, and a kind soul, and I know he must feel terrible about the way he treated you. He just needs to learn how to admit that to himself, first."

She was not so sure, however, that he understood what she was so upset with him about. At first, she had tried to be subtle, but that had not produced any results. She had then tried rousing him to jealousy, but he seemed unaffected by that emotion. So, she had hauled off and let him have it, figuratively and literally, by slugging him in the shoulder.

I had to agree that whacking an elf to get his attention is rather alluring as a last resort measure. Not that it would do much good. But, I understood the amount of frustration behind such a gesture, and I think the prince would understand it, too.

We talked long until the late afternoon and finally I volunteered to talk with Legolas, to probe his mood, perhaps, or maybe suggest he do a little rethinking of his attitude towards her when there were other elves around. I did not think he had a clue, before last night, as to how his stand-offishness had been affecting her. I had a few ideas in mind about how to reach him.

After leaving Sheraiah, I went directly to his room, but he was not there. I thought about the book I had borrowed from Glorfindel and wished I had time to go sit with it for a while instead of trying to play go-between for the prince and his lady. It was nearly dinnertime and Legolas would no doubt be eating with Elrond and his sons in their private dining room in the Elf Lord's wing of the great house. I wished to catch up with him before that, however, so we could have some privacy.

I hoped the twins did not have him tied to a chair somewhere while they lectured him on the proper way to apply his princely charms when in mixed company. They both had a tendency to overdo things, and, with the bad weather keeping the two of them mostly indoors and idle, they had a lot of excess energy at their disposal to make Legolas's life miserable. Especially if he did not promise to immediately change his aloof behavior towards Sheraiah. I went to their room actually hoping I would not find any of them there.

At least they did not have him tied to a chair.

One evening, when the storm was particularly bad, wind rattling the windows, rain whipping the coloured glass, water weeping down the smooth surface, I was reading before the fireplace. I had tried to make the best of the bad weather by pulling three large cushions from their pile in the corner, and thus making a soft bed on the floor, at exactly the right distance from the fire to be comfortable. Its flames cast off a warmer glow than that coming from the candles in the candlesticks and the illuminated leaves and flowers on the parchment pages seemed to come alive in the shifting light.

I had put on the dress I had been sent by the king before my arrival, the concubine one with the short skirt, as it was the one allowing most movement, and was quite comfortable lying on my belly, raised on my elbows with the book in front of me. Now and then I looked up from the pages, gazing into the fire or out into the darkness.

At one point, when I looked up, I got the impulse to turn my head over my shoulder towards the door, and I saw it opening slowly, and the king's seneschal entering the room. He stood still for a moment, pausing, before he quietly closed the door behind him. The strange thing was that he remained standing at the door, at first looking at me, but almost more through me, and then he closed his eyes and got a dreamy _expression on his face.

"Your Excellency?" I said questioningly and smiled when I saw him looking even more pleased. He liked being addressed formally, and I thought it was a small sacrifice if it made him happy. Also, Anarion's tale about Thaladir's past as a general in king Oropher's army and his devotion to Thranduil had made me respect the old elf. He was so much more than the grouchy scholar he usually impersonated.

At first there was no reply, but then he regained his normally stiff composure and opened his eyes. "My lady, you pose a most enjoyable view in your present position, calling to my remembrance how I beheld you the first day of your visit in these halls," he said. He looked me in the eyes now, and a smirk came across his lips when I looked slightly puzzled. My gaze was glued to his as he continued speaking.

"I believe you were resting after a somewhat warm welcoming by His Majesty, one that left you dispossessed of a certain garment." I had to smile at the way he seemed to frown at the unseemliness of it, at the same time as remembering it fondly. I remembered it quite clearly as well, how Thranduil had indeed given me a hot welcome that involved losing my underpants, and then left me on my own in the study for hours. I had fallen asleep on the floor, and was woken by the seneschal, who obviously had seen more than he revealed at that moment, something he now seemed to take great delight in making clear.

"I cannot deny that the outrageous thought of delaying my compliance with the king's command did cross my mind upon seeing you exposed thus." I stared at him. Was that really possible? That the dutiful seneschal had ever hesitated to follow orders? He answered my look in a dry voice, adding, "Only briefly, of course, as I am not an elf to take lightly on my duties. I found, however, the task of to escorting you to His Majesty's bed chamber somewhat burdensome."

And I believed him. He had been all uptight during our walk through the palace. "And what would you have done, Excellency? If you had fulfilled that thought? Even if it was unimaginable?" I couldn't help teasing him when he looked official like that, but his reply made me turn away with blushing cheeks.

"I would have preferred to stay, to bestow upon your twin spheres a much gentler attention than what His Majesty had seen fit to submit them to but recently. They were the most irresistible shade of pink, I recall." He smirked again.

Oh, I was glad he had not told me earlier. I would have died with embarrassment and humiliation if I had known at that time. Even now, when we shared a much more intimate relationship, I was somewhat embarrassed.

An instant later, he was with me on the cushions, kneeling on my left side, his hand on the small of my back and his voice soft in my ear. "It is my intention to make up for the lost opportunity this instant. And you should seek to improve your Sindarin further. Read to me."

"What, Thaladir?" This was the strangest request I had heard since that night when the king had told me to look into his eyes no matter what happened. The memory of it still made me feel hot and bothered.

"Read. Your pronunciation could benefit from more practice," the seneschal replied curtly. That said, he moved his right hand to my backside, slowly gliding from the thin fabric of the dress onto my bare thigh and up again, now over the soft silk of the boxers I was wearing underneath. I felt him placing his left hand in my hair, drawing his fingers through my locks, as he repeated again in a voice both firm and pleading; "Read".

And I read from the little book, line after line of tuneful Elvish words, while the seneschal continued his gentle caresses that felt cool and soothing at first, pleasant but not arousing. Then they made me burn. The words on the page before me began to lose all meaning, and when I felt two fingers sneaking their way under the waistband of my underpants, the book fell out of my hands. The small sound it made when hitting the stone floor seemed to awaken the seneschal, and he spoke again, now between ragged breaths.

"I believe these pose a hindrance at present, and with your leave, my lady, I shall see to their removal." The formality of his request only made it sound even more sinful.

"Yes, Your Excellency," I whispered back, suddenly finding it hard to speak. I felt the garment sliding down my legs and then the seneschal stood. I could not see him from my present position, but I heard the sound of clothes being removed and folded. I stifled a giggle. Even now he undressed with care.

By that evening, I was so into the spirit of my story and concentrating so hard that I didn't hear the knock on my door. A hand on my shoulder caused me to nearly jump out of my seat and I shrieked. Elladan and Elrohir jumped back out of my arms' reach.

"It is just us, Rai!" I glared at them and they both stuck their tongues out at me.

"You dorks, you could have given me a bit more warning," I growled. "Is it every elf in Imladris' project in life to scare the hell out of me?"

"We did knock, sweetling." Elrohir gave me a too-innocent grin. "It is not our fault that you could not hear us over your music."

"All right, all right. What is it that you want now? Aren`t there enough elves in Rivendell to torture, or is it just that you especially enjoy picking on me?" I shot back at them, the smile on my face fading quickly when they sobered a bit.

"We just had a rather unusual encounter with a certain princeling," Elladan stated, his face solemn.

"You didn't do anything awful to him, did you?" I felt a cold shiver go down my back as I realized just who they had been torturing. I really didn't want to be the cause of a rift between the long-term friends. Elladan's quick headshake did little to reassure me.

"No, we did nothing. We did not even broach the subject of your argument. No, it was he who was less than polite. Rai, he knows that we kept you company last night and he is making assumptions. He was not pleased. I would almost say that he was jealous." What slipped past my lips in response to his statement made Elladan's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. Elrohir choked back a laugh. Evidently ladies in Rivendell don't use that particular word. That was just too flipping bad. I'd already said I wasn't a lady.

Wonderful. My night was just getting better and better. I wondered if it was permissible to go jump into the Bruinen to put myself out of my, and everyone else's, misery.

I chased both of the twins out of my room again, rather less graciously than I had before, but I was ticked at them because they admitted to not telling Legolas the truth about last night. Instead, they had tormented him with innuendos and half-truths until they realized how badly he was taking it. They had not had the chance to set him straight, but promised that they would at such time as he was speaking to them again. Now I could cheerfully have strangled the lot of them. I settled on the window seat and watched the lightening sheeting across the night sky for awhile.

A knock on my door roused me from my dark thoughts. I hesitated, not certain if I wanted to answer. The decision was taken from me as a familiar blond head appeared, peeking around the door frame and ready to duck if needed. When nothing flew in his direction, the rest of Legolas appeared and he stood just inside the door, looking sheepishly at me. I tried to hold on to my anger, but the lost puppy _expression he was giving me made that impossible. I rolled my eyes and vented a growl of frustration.

"Oh, all right! Come in and sit down. But I want you to hear me out this time, please." I folded my legs under me to make room for him on the window seat. He sat on the opposite end, making no effort to touch me.

"I will hear you out, provided that you do not yell or call me names this time." He still looked hurt, so he must have either understood what I had called him, or had it explained to him afterwards.

"Agreed, and I'm sorry about that. I lost my temper. I shouldn't have called you a prick. You really didn't deserve it." He smiled slightly and I knew that, at least for that, I had been forgiven. I was relieved, but the situation was still far from resolved.

"And I should not have frightened you or walked out on you." He looked at me for a moment and bit his lower lip in a most endearing way. "And I should not have used the means I did to distract you from asking me a legitimate question. I shall not do that again. Ask me what you wish to know, Rai, and I shall answer your questions."

The twins allowed me to talk to Legolas alone in their room while they went off to make mischief in some other part of The Last Homely House. I hoped the storms would clear soon if just to get them outdoors where they could burn off their energy in more productive ventures.

The aggravated prince was just as conflicted as Sheraiah, but he insisted he was more irritated with Elladan and Elrohir's interference in his love life than he was upset with her. I figured they must have been teasing him mercilessly about their spending the night in Sheraiah's room and how sorry he should be that he had to sleep alone.

"You're in Rivendell," I reminded him, "where every elf has their nose in every other elf's business. It's sort of their trademark here, with Elrond being so involved with the Middle Earth affairs of all the other elves, not to mention all the men, dwarves, hobbits and wizards. You aren't back in Mirkwood where everyone minds their own business because they have to spend so much time together underground."

The twins had done their best to motivate Legolas by provoking him into feeling jealous and I almost had the notion that the prince was envious, at least, of the cozy relationship they had formed with Sheraiah. He would never have admitted to feeling such things to them, me, or her. In the halls of Mirkwood, where an open display of any emotion was frowned upon, it is hard to say if admitting to feeling anything was ever practiced. And suspiciousness about the motives of other elves from other realms was a trait that was instilled into the mind of every resident in Thranduil's realm at birth.

"Legolas," I said, "I think you are upset that we human girls will demand a certain level of respect from one elf and then turn around and allow other elves to act disrespectfully towards us. Or, what you consider disrespectful." From the look in his eyes I could tell I had reached him with that remark. I had learned a lot the night before at the knee of the great elf, Glorfindel.

I had quite literally sat at his knee, too, in his chambers, as the great golden-haired elf hero reclined on the sofa before his fireplace and told me everything my poor human brain could comprehend of the ways of elves and men. The carpet before the hearth was soft and inviting, I sank down on it and listened, enrapt, through most of the night until the early morning, at some point before dawn, I think, when I fell asleep with my head resting upon one of his outstretched legs. His voice, a singer's voice, modulated and melodic, proved better than a lullaby.

And now I tried to apply some of that shared wisdom to this situation with my friend, Legolas. He was not alone in his frustration with human nature and our propensity towards hysterical emotional outbursts when faced with the detached attitudes of elves towards us. It was a common problem in elf-human friendships. Which is why, according to Glorfindel, elves rarely formed long-term relationships with us in the first place.

But, Legolas was also irritated over the whole situation because he thought he had tried his hardest to be respectful towards Sheraiah's reputation, while visiting Rivendell and sharing his rooms with her, and she had not only been unappreciative, but had attacked him for it.

Elves may not be prudes, but, publicly displaying affection is considered highly rude behavior among them, whether they are from Mirkwood or Rivendell. He was also angry with the twins for what he perceived as their taking advantage of her while she was distressed, and not being more discreet about it.

I assured him that Elladan, Elrohir and Sheraiah did not have intimate relations the night before. The twins did not take advantage of her state of mind or seduce her wickedly while she was at her weakest point. If they had led him to believe such things then they were merely trying to provoke him into taking appropriate action towards winning her back into his arms. Although they had been a bit clumsy in their approach, I had to grant him that much.

And, I added, Sheraiah was sorry she slugged him and called him names.

"She was desperate to reach through to you, Legolas," I explained. "We humans don't have centuries to practice patience with stubborn elf princes and that can lead to rather extreme forms of bad behavior on our parts."

He thought about it, and thought about it, and finally got up and, after giving me a kiss on the cheek, set off towards Sheraiah's rooms. I hoped they could mend their differences as I set off for my guest-room and that marvelous book of Middle Earth history waiting there for me.

Then the seneschal came back. This time he sank down onto my outstretched legs, sitting across my clasped together thighs, not with his full weight, but enough to have me immobilized. Again his hands sought my backside and he slid them up under my skirt, leaving it around my waist. His rigid member bounced against my thighs as he moved, teasing as much as his fingers over my bottom. He drove me mad by dipping a finger down between them, at the same time as his legs effectively hindered my attempts to allow it better access. His fingertip merely brushed against my folds and it made moan with frustration.

Then he bent over and kissed me, raining gentle kisses over my rear, sometimes even darting out his tongue. After that, he finally changed his position, settling between my legs instead of over them, spreading them apart with his knees. I sighed and whimpered in anticipation when I felt his hand reach under me, touching, gently, too gently. I crushed it beneath me, pushing it into the cushion under me and thereby forcing it to cause harder friction against my nether lips and the little nub that ached for attention.

"How improper, what an appalling lack of patience," I heard Thaladir mutter, but he sounded more amused than truly annoyed. Gently he lifted me and put a cushion under my hips, which put me in a position more pleasurable to both of us. I felt his finger glide along my slick folds again, back and forth and into me, then out again and over my swollen clitoris. I wriggled constantly to make him touch me where I wanted it the most.

When I was almost delirious with lust he crept up closer behind me, and I felt his hot breath against my ear as he whispered hoarsely, "At that time, experiencing you in the current manner was unreachable beyond dreaming. His Majesty is most generous." I could only moan in reply, as I felt him pushing into me, slowly and gently. Then he paused for a short while, letting out a deep sigh, before he pulled all the way out, and then pushed in again, repeating his motions in long, hard thrusts until passion overtook me. As ripples of pleasure shook my body, the seneschal reached his peak in a last, powerful movement that almost shoved me off the cushions.

Then he stood, and with a guilty look on his face, he picked up the book and carefully deposited it on the mantelpiece, patting the cover almost affectionately. When he turned towards me again I saw him changing back to his official role, despite his nakedness, and the wrinkle returned to his forehead as he spoke.

"Regardless the immense joy that may be reaped from literature studies, it is well past your bedtime, my lady. You will sleep now." I could only smile at him as I rose and walked to the bed.

"Yes, Your Excellency."

The seneschal had helped me through another day without the king.

And so my days passed between the sentinel and the seneschal, and though they both did their best to shower me with caresses, they could do nothing to ease my mind. I did find happiness of sorts with Anarion. For as long as he was with me, I was satisfied with the pleasure he gave so generously, but in the lonely wakes of the night, in the desperate hour before dawn, when Thaladir had returned to his own quarters and the sun not yet risen, dark thoughts clouded my existence.

I had promised Glorfindel that, as soon as I was finished with it, I would return the valuable book he had let me borrow directly to the main library, into Erestor's hands. I was feeling peculiarly bleak as I approached the main areas of the large manse. Ever since the evening that I had my conversation with Legolas about Sheraiah, I had been feeling miserable and blue.

In Mirkwood, when Thranduil and his son sat side by side, the differences between them were obvious and clear. One did not remind me of the other. But, here in Rivendell, so far apart as they were, I found there were too many similarities between them, father and son, and talking with him had made me miss the king, like I missed the sun throughout the gray, blowy, rainy days.

As soon I stepped through the huge carved doors and inhaled the familiar scent of paper, glue, ink and dust that identified the presence of mass quantities of books, I was sorry I had not thought to come to the library before. Even blindfolded, I would have known where I was. I instantly felt calmer and happier, the way, I suppose, that someone who relies on comfort food to restore a battered spirit feels when eating a honey cake.

Politely, I was advised that Master Erestor, as the other library elves referred to him, was working in the back of the large book lined chamber. I was directed his way and told to use my ears.

The large room was quiet despite the nearly half dozen elves, who glided silently in and out of the large standing bookcases carrying armloads of books, shelving them away neatly, then moving along to find another stack. As I moved through the towering bookcases I admired the collection of richly bound treasures that filled them, bottom to top.

And then I heard him, humming to himself, a melody that reminded me of the one that Miriel used to hum when she was busy in my rooms back in Mirkwood, and I found him quickly by following the direction of the tune. Erestor, counselor to Lord Elrond, and overseer of the largest library in Middle Earth. That is, largest according to the twins, who have not actually seen many other libraries. I am willing to bet the library in Gondor is pretty huge in comparison. But, it was still an important position for any elf to hold and he was obviously well-respected by all those who spoke of him.

He was too busy with his own shelving task to notice me at first, which is an unusual behavior for an elf, but I am sure that if I had posed any type of threat or danger, he would have known immediately and acted accordingly. But, I think he was used to having others come up behind him silently for one reason or another, and is not exactly startled about it when it happens. I stood and waited for him to notice me, I knew he would within moments, and looked him over closely.

Erestor was rarely seen in the Great Hall of Fire or any of the other common areas of Lord Elrond’s house. I had eaten a few meals with him at the same table, but he was as quiet and unassuming there as Thranduil's treasurer, Canath, had been in Mirkwood. Erestor has beautiful dark eyes that are large and liquid and poetic. But he rarely raised them from his plate at the dinner table and, unless directly addressed by name, rarely looked others directly in the face.

In the cozy smelling library I felt as far removed from the underground caverns of Mirkwood as I had ever felt in Rivendell. If Thranduil had anything resembling a library, I was wholly unaware of its existence. But, when Erestor finally turned and acknowledged my presence with a pleasant smile, I thought, again, of the king. It was unnerving. I pushed him aside in my mind. I had come to the library to find peace of mind, and if I could not find it here, there was none to be found.

I felt that I had become a whore and was betraying my love for Thranduil by accepting the two other elves' affection. Deep down in my soul I knew that it would not have come to this if the king had not sent them my way, but it was not enough. I had wanted them, had I not? He had read my thoughts, discovered attraction and done what he thought would please me, was it not so? The knowledge that I would never have acted upon such whims on my own did not justify my actions, but only added a feeling of guilt towards Anarion and Thaladir, never mind that both of them seemed content with the situation.

Naturally, I could not talk to any of these two about my troubles, and I didn't feel that I could confide in Ithilwen either. I missed Mary more than ever and it became clear to me that she had made the right decision when she left. No matter what she might encounter in Imladris or beyond, it could never be as bad at this. I began to wish I had the strength to do the same, to just walk out the gates and leave it all behind.

But I could not. Just thinking about the Elvenking made me feel weak. Thranduil had me trapped by my own will. But the situation could not last infinitely and I felt that it had to come to a confrontation between us, or I would go mad.

However, I did not have to wait long before I got an opportunity. I was on my way to the study to return the poetry book, now thoroughly studied under Thaladir's supervision, when the king suddenly stood before me in the hallway.

“You are dissatisfied,” he stated with a surprised and somewhat worried expression on his face. “Does not my seneschal give you pleasure? If he does not treat you well, I will...”

I interrupted him. “It is not pleasure that I want.”

The king’s eyes narrowed to slits and he said slowly and threateningly: “If you would rather have pain, that can easily be arranged.”

I was taken aback by his sudden change of mood, and a little frightened, too. I assured him, that in that case I’d be happy with the pleasure, thank you very much, and the danger signals disappeared from his handsome face. “I am already in pain,” I said quietly. "Can you not see that I’m bleeding?”

“Where? Who hurt you?” Worry was back in his gaze now, and I could see that he was scanning me for injuries. Wounds that were not there for his eyes to see.

“You did, my lord," I said sadly. "You make my heart bleed by rejecting me.” I had hoped that would make him take me into his arms, but it didn't. He just shook his head slowly.

“Mal. What am I to do with you?” There was weariness in his voice now, just like at breakfast. It was painful to hear and suddenly regretted that I had bothered him with my petty troubles that must be nothing against his.

“Perhaps it would be best for everyone if you just sent me away, “ I said, resigned.

“I am not going to do that," he stated firmly. These small words were all that was needed to turn my sadness into anger. This arrogant elf did not want me for himself, but still I was to be kept around as some plaything for selected elves in his service.

"Why?" I asked in a cold voice. "You brought me here as your concubine. Your seneschal made sure the job description was perfectly clear, and has repeatedly called me both 'suitable' and 'adequate'. Still you appear to have no use for me now, so why not let me go?" I winced when I heard my voice crack, ruining what determination I had felt.

Although I had expected that the unspoken accusations would make him angry, he was very calm when he replied, slowly as if he wanted each word to sink into me.

"I need you for the times to come, and I need you well rested. Tell me what you want.” I did not understand what he meant, but it was not important. I knew what I wanted from him.

“I want to be close to you, “ I whispered, not daring to look up, afraid to see the king’s reaction. He must be appalled by my behaviour, I thought, my clinging to him like a leech with all my heart. He surprised me by stroking my cheek fleetingly and lifting my chin so that I had to look into his eyes.

“You already are," he said in a soft voice. "Your feelings are strong and I can sense you better than most things in my realm. You are very close to me.”

“But I can’t sense you," I protested weakly," or see your thoughts. To know that you care about me I need you to be with me, to tell me, to show me.” I did my best to really open the dark chasm that was my soul to him, baring it completely before his prodding mind, and he seemed thoughtful for a moment, before he delivered his conclusion on the matter.

“Very well. You will sleep in my bed again, except for when I have company. When I am occupied you will not seek me out; you will stay in your room and not complain. And Thaladir will not come to you anymore, unless you tell me that it is your sincere desire that he should. Now, what do you say?”

I could not find words to express how I felt, so I followed my heart's impulse to wrap my arms around his waist and lean my head against his chest. For some blissful seconds I listened to the beating of the heart therein, but I also felt the presence of a raw power, something building up under pressure, a volcano on the verge of eruption. Before even a minute had passed, I was harshly pushed aside, dropping the book in the process, and the king strode off, angrily muttering "Do not tempt me, woman!"

To be continued...