I had the most vivid dream that night, of hands caressing my body, gliding all over me from shoulders to thighs, skilfully avoiding my most sensitive areas and instead heightening the senses of others, turning me into a sensitive instrument that unconsciously registered every touch. I felt silken hair on my skin, then a warm breeze against my face, and then a soft mouth grazed at my collarbone in a way that caused a feeling of pleasure so intense that I was roused from my light sleep.

Chaotic thoughts flew through my head during the seconds it took my mind to pass from unawareness to a confused, semi-awake state. I understood immediately that my dream lover was real, but his identity was obscured to me. This kind of softness I had only experienced from the young Anarion, my faithful sentinel, but the gentlemanly guardian elf would never dare to approach me uninvited, much less sneak into my bed like this.

So was this yet another side of the outwardly reserved but secretly passionate seneschal? The deftness of the touches my lover bestowed on me spoke of great skill and vast experience, but Thaladir would long ago have said something about patience or seemliness, in accordance with his habit to turn everything into a lesson, or else pounced on me immediately in an energetic outlet of pent-up libido.

The caresses became more determined now, and when my lover's hot mouth descended on my left nipple, at the same time as his hand moved down between my thighs, I did not care about his identity. I wrapped my right arm around his neck and clutched him tight to my chest, moaning as his hand found its way between my folds. For the briefest of times, the cold of a gemstone touched me, and when the wonders his large thumb worked on my little nub made me cry out in sudden release I knew who he was. My king.

His eyes glittered in the first morning light, and when he saw the shadow of astonishment in my expression, despite the satisfaction, he said with a chuckle: "Have I neglected my concubine lately? I can see that your training is far from complete if you do not recognize me."

No, I thought, if this is how you train me I need much more. Thranduil chuckled again, mirth in his eyes, but did not reply. He sat up in the bed, but kept a hand on my chest, lazily drawing his fingers back and forth over my skin, until I grabbed it and held it still. I lifted the royal hand to my lips and kissed his palm before I spoke.

"I am happy that you are back," I whispered.

"You ought to be," the king replied. "You are mine."

Of course, I thought, that's how he sees it. That comment alone would have been enough to identify the obnoxious, annoying, arrogant Elvenking. He was all that, and yet he had been so unusually tender this morning. It was a puzzle to me.

"You came to me," I said hesitantly, "but I thought you wanted to be with Mary now when you haven't seen her for a long time?"

"I do," he said. "Sleep now. I will see you at breakfast."

With that, the king rose and slipped a thin robe over his shoulders. I watched him as he tied the sash around his waist, and then as he opened the door and left the room. The door closed, and I was alone again.

After Thranduil left my bed, I couldn't sleep, of course. For what felt like hours, I tossed and turned, trying not to think about Mary and the king, and why he was milder than before, and shouldn't he be angry with her for running away like that? Instead he was affectionate and wanted to be with her as much as possible, so why had he even bothered to come to me? It was pity, of course. He was too noble to toss me aside completely now when his first choice was back in his bed.

By the time Ithilwen knocked on my door, I had reasoned some more with myself and decided that I had been unfair to Thranduil. He was neither timid nor false and it was he who had initiated the contract between us. And he would not make love to me unless it was for his pleasure also. That he had left so early was perhaps even my fault, for mentioning Mary, but that didn't make it any easier to know that he was with her now.

I washed in the basin Anarion brought into my room before he quickly left, blushing modestly and hardly looking up from fluttering dark eyelashes. He was so cute I had a hard time keeping from giving him a peck on the cheek, but I just couldn't do that in Ithilwen's company and my present state of undress. The elleth knew me well enough by now not to be shocked, but I felt it would have embarrassed the young elf, something I didn't want to do.

Ithilwen did my hair and helped me get dressed, again in the cream-coloured gown that had been Thaladir's choice the day before. Just as she finished fastening the last hooks and clasps on my back, the door opened again and the king's seneschal stood at the threshold. He said nothing, but held his elbow towards me and nodded when I looked at him quizzically.

"Good morning, Your Excellency," I said and smiled to myself when I saw the tiny change in his frown I knew my correct address would cause. "What brings me the honour of your visit?" I took his arm and he had already led me out of the room, past my smiling door-guard, before he replied.

"His Majesty desires your company in his private dining chamber, my lady," Thaladir said, "and it is my duty, as well as my pleasure, to escort you there."

"That was nice of you." I was delighted that the king wanted me to come, as I had actually expected him to have breakfast in bed with Mary, or not at all.

"It is my duty," Thaladir replied gravely, as if the mere thought that he would do something out of his own wish was improper beyond belief.

"It was still nice of you," I repeated, patting his arm a little, "and the king, as I know my way around his halls now." I was happy to notice that my patting of his arm hadn't caused him to tense up like he usually did on such occasions. He actually seemed to be quite satisfied with walking through the hallways with me.

"Indeed," he said, "I find it most agreeable to notice that you seem to have settled down satisfactorily, and, furthermore, that the behaviour you currently display in these royal halls is befitting of your situation." It was probably meant as a compliment to me, but the way the seneschal pronounced "you" told me that his thoughts dwelt just as much on someone who's manners so far had not been at all to his taste. I almost felt a little guilty that I had wanted Mary to return as soon as possible.

When I woke up, the king was propped up on one elbow, looking down at me when I opened my eyes. I pounced on him and buried my face in his neck while I threw my one free leg over him and held on to him as tightly as I could.

"I am never going to let go of you," I spoke against the satiny skin near his ear after I had rubbed my nose along his chin and kissed the corner of his noble jaw. "You know that, don't you?"

"How will I run my kingdom?" His voice was unusually soft and playful. He rolled me over onto my back and I reveled in the sensation of being wrapped in his arms.

"I don't care about your dumb old kingdom," I explained. "I just don't ever want to let go of you. So, I'm not." And I did not, for a while. His lovemaking was just as passionate as ever but sweetly so; he was more considerate and gentle than I remembered him. And afterwards, I almost thought I would fall back to sleep. I felt as if I were floating instead of lying on a bed. And then it hit me.

"I'm starving!"

"You will have to let go of me then," the king pointed out. "That is, if you want some breakfast."

"There's always a catch to being a human," I said as I reluctantly unwound my limbs from him. "Isn't there?" The king arose from bed and dressed himself in a handsome thigh-length robe that was the color of golden wheat. He picked up both the nightgown and his cloak that I had discarded on the floor the night before and grinned.

"I do not believe my seneschal would approve of you wearing this to the breakfast table."

"Well," I replied. "I could always go naked." He shook his head at my reply, but his eyes remained merry so I think he was amused by a picture in his mind of what Thaladir's face would look like if I arrived in the dining-room all aglow and bright in my birthday suit.

Miriel was waiting just outside the bedchamber door with a gown for me to wear. I jumped from the bed and threw myself at her. The king went into his own dressing room to change while she brushed the tangles out of my hair and fetched a basin and water so I could have a quick sponge bath. She had just helped me into my dress when he stepped back into the bedchamber to join us. He looked handsome in his buff-colored buckskin tunic and skin-tight leggings, but I pulled a pouty face in his direction.

"I liked it better when you just had that robe on, showing off your legs like it did." Miriel made a small sound, like a cross between a chuckle and a sigh, and her eyes twinkled at me but her facial features remained otherwise calm. The king shooed her off before she was finished fastening my gown.

"Are you going to braid my hair, too?" I asked him as his fingers swiftly attended to my gown closure. I did not mind being alone with Thranduil as much as I could because I knew it was only for a short while longer, and then I would have to share him again with the rest of his kingdom, including Mal. It was going to be hard to leave the royal bedchamber and face the rest of the household, especially when he was in such a rare good mood.

The king's large hands were exquisitely gentle while he braided my hair as well as any elleth could, maybe better. It was hard to tell with no mirror to see myself with, but I could feel the braids at either side of my temples and they felt beautiful. And as he attended to my hair, he told me about the danger I had escaped when I had flown away to Rivendell.

"Can I tell any of this to Mal?" I asked as we finally headed down the corridor to his private dining room. "Or does she already know everything?" The king's face grew still and sober as he thought about my request.

"You may discuss it with her," he finally replied. "But not over breakfast. I would prefer not to think about those unpleasant events while trying to enjoy my meal."

I could not wait to get Mal alone so I could find out what had happened to Thranduil while I was gone to make him so much more agreeable and pleasant-tempered. Maybe it was just that the men from the Long Lake were gone, but I had a feeling there was more than that to explain his subtly gentler nature and I also had a feeling that his concubine would know something about it. He was still the king, but he was a bit tamer around his edges. And it suited him.

Nothing more was said until Thaladir and I reached the king's dining room. Thranduil and Mary must have just come, as they had not yet sat. I was pleasantly surprised when the king held out the chair on his right side for me, while Mary waited for Thaladir to do the same for her. I was happy to see her but it was quite obvious that the seneschal was not. He performed his chair duty impeccably, as could be expected of him, but took great care not to touch her. I felt sorry for him, but his stiff movements looked so funny I had to stifle a laugh.

Before I could begin to chat happily with Mary, which I really longed to do, she did something I would never have thought her capable of. With a sweet smile, she turned gracefully to the seneschal and greeted him formally in Sindarin. The fact that she seemed to honestly try to be nice to Thaladir surprised me more than the Elvish phrase, even if that was unexpected too, as she had so far not seemed at all interested in learning the language.

If the seneschal was surprised, he didn't show it. It's true that he didn't reply at once, but within seconds he nodded to her and pronounced the reply to the ancient greeting, a beautiful phrase about the light of the two trees of Valinor that sounded like poetry.

From across the table, I could almost feel his satisfaction when Mary was lost for words and had to turn to the king for a translation. With the tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips, he reached for a piece of bread, but put it down immediately when she told him that she wanted to take language lessons. He looked at her with keen interest, as if she had just turned into a real person instead of a troublesome appendage to his king, and seemed pleased.

However, I didn't see his reaction when she went on to ask if he would perhaps consider teaching her himself, as I had quite enough to do trying not to choke on the grape I was eating at the moment. Her innocent question had instantly reminded me of some not so innocent lessons with Thaladir, when he had me read Sindarin poetry aloud, while he...

I felt my face become redder than the apples on the table, and didn't know what to do, but the king helped me out. I gratefully sipped some water from the glass he handed me, but then almost choked again when he began grinning like mad. I suddenly realized that he must know not only what he could have read from my thoughts just now, but each and every detail of my trysts with his seneschal. I should have guessed that the faithful elf would report it all to his lord.

Mary didn't understand, of course, and the king took mercy on me, telling her that he was pleased with her wish for knowledge. He then said to Thaladir, in Sindarin, that while he appreciated that his concubine was satisfied with her advanced lessons, only strictly formal ones would be required for Mary. I was relieved to hear that, not because I wanted the seneschal to myself, but because the king had shown that he had no intent of telling Mary about our less than seemly relationship.

Thaladir replied that he would of course teach her, and soon the conversation turned to Rivendell and what she had seen there. She told me a lot about what the landscape looked like, and how beautiful Rivendell and Elrond's halls were, but I was most of all interested in its inhabitants. I wanted to hear everything about Elrond and his handsome sons, and the calm and mysterious Erestor, but most of all I wanted her to tell me about Glorfindel.

I felt it wouldn't be polite to show such interest in elves I'd never seen, so while hoping to be alone with her soon, I satisfied myself with what she told me about Sheraiah. I was surprised to hear that a third mortal was visiting Middle Earth, but it made me happy to hear how close she seemed to be to Legolas. Thranduil's fine son deserved some quality time with a woman!

When Mary and I were finally alone, she began questioning me about the king and what I had done to him while she was away. I wanted to say that much less had happened between us in the way of bed activity than what could have during all that time, but no matter how happy I was to see her, I didn't feel like sharing such intimate details. I wanted to hear more about Glorfindel and the other Rivendell elves, but first of all I wanted to know why on earth she had decided to leave the king in the middle of an official meal. It could hardly have been the spur of a moment and I was more than a little hurt that she hadn't talked to me about her situation if she felt so bad about being here. And I also wanted to make sure she had come back of her own will.

She served me the most fantastic tale about a conspiracy between Helca and the pig-like merchant that had been visiting for the trade negotiations, and while I believed none of them of any good, it seemed far-fetched that they would want Mary to leave the king. I could understand if Helca was jealous, as there seemed to have been some hot feelings between her and Thranduil in the past, and the pig-like Renk seemed to want to eat each and every female alive, so I could imagine he desired Mary. But to want it enough to risk the king's fury?

Mary tried to explain something about the king screaming at Renk through her, and Helca sending malevolent messages to the Town Master by tossing her hair, and other things that didn't make much sense to me, but that had apparently compelled Mary to run off with Legolas. Ah, and yes, it had been partly Thaladir's fault too, she said, as he had been paying more attention to me than to her.

That last thing was true, of course, and I had a very vivid memory of the seneschal's naughty games during the meal. I had been truly embarrassed at the time, but what worried me now was the thought that he could have been neglecting some odd duty. The poor elf must be absolutely stricken with guilt if the king had so much as indicated that he had done something wrong. It made me feel guilty too, but I did my best not to show that to Mary. Instead I asked for more details.

The whole story sounded most of all like a bad excuse to me, but it would explain why the king wasn't mad with her and I didn't dare to discard it altogether. Until she said that Erestor, the sensible Rivendell elf, had told her that I was a bridge. Not only was it an outrageous thing to say as such, but an elf I had never seen couldn't possibly know anything at all about me. I was almost sure now that she wasn't telling the truth, but somehow testing me. I told her I wanted her to repeat all of it again, but that I still wouldn't believe it until I had heard it from the king himself.

Mary went on about the bridge thing and how the king had somehow made her valuable to men and that would be why Renk wanted to steal her, and though it all sounded crazy I became more and more confused as she repeated her tale. I realized that this was all real to her, so what if it was indeed true that the king had sent her away to protect her?

Thinking of it made me unsure of my own situation. Did the king not want to protect me? Or had it not been necessary, as I was of no value to the conspirators, bridge or not? Was I then valuable to him?

I had thought life in Mirkwood would be easier with Mary around, but that was apparently not the case. She had literally given me a bad headache and I didn't even care about Glorfindel anymore. I only wanted to see Thranduil, to receive some answers and to be reassured of his affection.

We actually beat Mal and Thaladir to the small dining room, but just barely. I asked the king to let me sit next to the seneschal, who seemed unusually stiff and formal when he approached the table. I was feeling kindly towards him, after my little talk with Thranduil, and I was determined to change the grouchy old elf's mind about me.

The king seated Mal and then himself beside her, so I stood across from them at the table and waited for Thaladir, as a proper lady should, to hold the back of my chair as I seated myself genteelly. Once everyone was seated, I turned to him and smiled politely at him without looking directly, and therefore rudely, into his stony face.

"Silo i galad Nimloth na rád lin," I told him. [May the light of Telperion shine upon your path] Glorcheniel had taught that to me when I had asked her to help me with a polite Elvish greeting to use in Rivendell. I could tell Thaladir was not prepared to hear me speak to him in Sindarin, at least not first thing in the morning. After a moment's pause he nodded his head in my direction.

"A togo i galad Glorlinn i thail lín," he replied. I had no idea what he said. Usually the response was brief, but polite, "A na rad lin" [And on your path, too.] Mal looked at the seneschal as if he had just spoken a bit of love poetry to me. But I looked at the king, completely bewildered, and he leaned forward.

"Thaladir has wished for the light of Laurelin to guide your feet," he said quietly. His eyes were shining into mine, however, so I could tell he was pleased with me for being nice to his seneschal, for a change. I thanked him mentally. Then I made a snap decision with fingers crossed that I would not live to regret it.

"Your Excellency," I addressed Thaladir. "Will you be so kind as to direct me towards the best Elvish language instructor in Mirkwood? I think I would be of much more use to His Majesty if I don't have to have someone following me around all the time to translate every single thing for me. Don't you think so, too?"

The seneschal actually appeared pleased with my request. But, before he could answer I added, "I would love to be able to speak as well as Mal does. Do you give private language lessons, Your Excellency?"

Mal started choking and her face grew an alarming red. I was alarmed at least, but the king casually offered her a drink from her water glass, and then he gave her and Thaladir the oddest grin I had ever seen, something between a leer and an amused smirk. Mal turned even redder. I have no idea what the seneschal thought, but I was convinced I was missing out on a really good joke.

"Is it wrong," I asked the king, "to ask for language lessons? Did I say something stupid again? Should I have worded it differently?" He insisted there was nothing wrong in my request and added how pleased he was that I had made it. He said something to Thaladir in Elvish.

"I am somewhat surprised at this unexpected request, my lady," said the seneschal to me. "However, as it pleases His Majesty, I will take it upon myself to personally see to the expansion of your knowledge." I thanked him and hoped the king was proud of me.

Mal calmed down quickly. And then it occurred to me what was going on. She was jealous because I had so obviously made the king happy by asking Thaladir for Elvish lessons. She knew it would make me closer to him, and his seneschal and that was probably a bitter pill for her to swallow. But she had spent all these past weeks alone with Thranduil, while I had pined away in misery away off in Rivendell, so I was the one who should be feeling jealous.

Now I was even more anxious to be alone with her, partly because I did not want either of us to feel jealous anymore. But it was time to be seriously polite as I worked my way into the good graces of the king's loyal seneschal by showing how ladylike I could behave at the table. After spending some time with the elves of Rivendell, and actually paying attention to their social behavior, I felt like a more polished member of a royal household. But, I needed to try out my new manners in front of my harshest critic before I was truly sure.

Mal asked about our trip from Rivendell. She was most curious about every step the king had made, less curious about me, but still she seemed happy to see me back safe and unharmed. The king did not give out any details about his encounter with the twins and I was certainly not going to say anything bad about them in front of anybody, so neither one of us discussed the swordplay.

I told Mal how nice it was to fly above the Misty Mountains and Mirkwood forest. Her eyes seemed to become transfixed on some far distant point as, I suppose, she imagined what the waterfalls of Rivendell look like from up above as I described them.

She was full of questions, then, about the Last Homely House. And Legolas and Sheraiah, especially, who she was excited to hear about. And the doings of Elladan and Elrohir and their father, Lord Elrond. When I mentioned Erestor and Glorfindel, her face grew wistful and her eyes withdrawn. The king looked at her intently and I could tell he was thinking about making her happy. I shut up about the subject and busied myself with my breakfast and my manners. I was not going to say another word about my adventures with the Rivendell elves until I was alone with Mal.

"In the Last Homely House," I informed the table, "they serve coffee with breakfast, did you know that?"

"Elrond runs a hostelry for wayfaring travelers," replied Thranduil with a hint of a sneer. "What he chooses to serve at his table is of no concern to me. Mortals and half-elves may depend on stimulants to remain alert; full elves have no such weaknesses."

"But, still," I answered. "Coffee with breakfast is so civilized, I think." I could sense that the seneschal beside me was simmering with disapproval over my complaint. "But I would rather go without than go back there," I added and remained silent for the rest of the meal.

After breakfast was over, an elf messenger appeared in the doorway. He stood at silent bright-eyed attention while Thaladir folded his napkin, placed it carefully on the table, and then went over to the door to speak to him. Then the seneschal returned to the king and spoke into his ear. Thranduil stood, smiled at both of us, and excused himself from the table, and without further explanation he and the other elves departed into the hallways; Mal and I were finally alone.

"Alright," I said to her. "What have you done to my king while I was gone? He seems almost relaxed, if that's possible." But Mal did not want to talk about Thranduil. She never had known why I had left Mirkwood and she was not going to be budged into discussing any other topic until I explained to her what happened.

It was Helca and Renk, I told her, who were responsible for me leaving Mirkwood. An alliance, according to Thranduil, that was both unlikely and hastily built. An unfortunate convergence of a too clever-minded, and overly prideful, elleth with a dull-witted boor who was too easily manipulated. They had double-teamed me. Helca's plan was to drive me away with the Long Lake men. What plans Renk may have had for me once I had made my way to Esgaroth, I could only shudder to think. And I would have thought it was my own idea.

The idea was to make me so miserable that I would choose to leave Mirkwood with the pleasant Master Darek, who had no part in the plotting, but was conveniently sympathetic enough to the plight of a mortal maid in the clutches of the dark-hearted Elfking to have offered me assistance in my eventual removal from Thranduil's realm. And both the swinish wine merchant and the icy elleth were convinced they could persuade me to leave the king. Once I had reached Esgaroth, Renk would offer to see to my welfare, being the wealthiest of the three. At least that seemed to be the plan.

The king explained that, during the dance, Helca had arranged for the wine merchant to partner with me in order to flush out the truth about my abilities. It was Thranduil's ire channeled through me that had taken the piggish fool aback on the dance floor, but, instead of frightening him, it had only confirmed that what Helca had promised him was true. And that made me even more valuable in his greedy mind, and worth the risk of being a party to my self-assisted abduction.

I had asked the king what he had done to them when he figured it all out. Had he cut off their heads? Fed them to the spiders? Thrown them into the dungeons? Mal shook her head as I recounted this part of my conversation with Thranduil. She knew that Helca was still a member of the royal house and that Renk had departed from Mirkwood with his head attached.

"If I am truly the vengeful, villainous king that those outside of my realm insist that I am," I told her the king had replied, "then I could have done any number of terrible things to punish both of them. However, what would it profit me to lose her valuable services in my treasure house? And deprive my subjects of their regular wine allotment?" Mal was just as speechless as I had been when he had said that to me, so we both just stared at each other for a moment, and sighed.

"But what did Helca have to do with your bizarre behavior at the lunch table?" Mal did not understand how elves could use humans to send messages or gather information, and I was not so sure myself about how it worked. But I knew what the method was the day I left Mirkwood.

"She used her hair," I explained. "Apparently there has to be touching involved, and eye contact helps to..." I paused as I searched for the proper term, "...intensify it, somehow. Like with Renk. But she couldn't catch my eye, so she used Master Darek; she played footsie with him to connect the both of them first. Then she sort of directed him to touch me, and look me in the eyes. That was all she needed because the minds of mortal men are the most easily manipulated." Mal was appropriately horrified but skeptical nevertheless. Not to mention a little confused.

"You're a bridge, too, Mal." I said. "All mortals are, to some extent. That is what Erestor told me."

"A bridge." Her voice was flat, doubtful as she repeated it. "I can never tell when you are lying," she added. "And I think I need to hear this from Thranduil before I believe it."

"Well, he is the one who told me that it wasn't my fault I was acting so crazy that day," I said in my defense. "He was being distracted by apple prices and do you know what else he said?" Mal shrugged and I continued. "He said that if his seneschal had been paying less attention to his concubine's table manners, and more to mine, the whole thing could have been avoided. He said Thaladir felt so guilty that he offered to resign, again."

"You always give me headaches," grumbled Mal. "Now tell me again what the king said, exactly." Before I could begin, she added "And what did Helca promise Renk was true about you, out there on the dance floor?" And so I tried to report just what Thranduil had told me, without personal embellishments or editorial opinions. Being a bridge is no big deal, I tried to explain, but the king had somehow fine-tuned us, both her and me, and imbued us with a fragment of his own power in the process.

"Fine-tuned? Imbued?" She sounded even less convinced.

"Imbued," I repeated, not quite sure if that was the precise word he had used as I was so distracted at the time by him braiding my hair. "Impressed?" I said aloud. "Imprinted? It was one of those "im" words. And it makes us valuable to men to be fine-tuned like that. Very rare."

"Valuable in what way?" Mal sounded even more suspicious now.

"You know what?" I replied. "Thranduil didn't say, but I can guess, can't you?" I did not wait for her reply but forged ahead in my tale of how the king had decided that the only way to keep the annual price negotiations on track with the Long Lake men, and my sanity intact, was to send me away with Legolas and then come for me when the men had left Mirkwood.

"You are saying that it was His Majesty's idea for you to fly away? You didn't run off on him?" I could tell that Mal was struggling to understand a situation that I just barely understood myself. I showed her how when the king stood and touched my shoulder, at the lunch table that day, he also broke whatever fragile connection Helca had established, and I was free to leave.

"He didn't want me to leave. But he didn't try to stop me either." I explained how he helped me, sort of, to make the decision to leave with Legolas for my own sanity's sake. He told me he knew I would be safe amongst the elves of Imladris, because he was going to be right there with me, keeping an eye on them. At least I did not have to convince Mal that Thranduil was a mind-reader; she knew that from personal experience.

"Okay," she said. "Start over again, from the beginning."

Legolas and I had spent the morning lounging around in my bed, among other, more physical activities. We had missed breakfast completely, aside from my nibbling on some seedcakes Duiniel had left in my room in case I got hungry. Teasing me by claiming that I had to be part hobbit to be stashing food in my room, Legolas had sweet-talked the cooks into putting together a picnic lunch for us and we set out into the gardens. We ate our lunch by a spring with waters so clear that the sandy bottom was as visible as if we were seeing it through glass before wandering back to the kitchens to return the basket and dishes.

After that, we visited the stables, deciding to go riding once we got there. Legolas insisted on riding double with me, knowing that I had done little riding in my lifetime. Our path took us to the river and along it a ways. We let the horse graze, taking advantage of the solitude of the area we were in to indulge in some spirited lovemaking. Legolas went for a swim afterwards, but the water was far too cold for me to attempt it, so I watched him from the riverbank and enjoyed the view.

We made our way back to the House, Legolas insisting that we be on time for the evening meal. As we entered the stable yard, I noticed a small donkey in a stall that had been unoccupied when we had left. It struck me as odd to see a donkey in Rivendell for some reason and I commented on it to Legolas.

"More than elves are welcome here," he replied, dismounting gracefully and reaching up to lift me down. "It likely belongs to a trader. Lord Elrond's folk do trade with the other races of Arda."

We walked to the House at a leisurely pace. Dinner wouldn't be for at least a couple of hours, so I had plenty of time to get ready. As we passed through the large courtyard in front of the entrance nearest to my room, a booming voice called out.

"There you are, you skinny excuse for a prince! They told me you were visiting." A fiery-haired dwarf crossed the courtyard towards us and Legolas' face lit up.

"Gimli!"

To be continued...