Set upon a mahogany coloured table in a private family dining room were plates of cured meats and freshly baked breads, fruits and vegetables taken from the forest plantations, sweet cakes for dessert along with pitchers of cool wine and cordial. Although the table held room enough for seven or eight individuals, just three chairs were placed at intervals around its rectangular shape. Of those three, only two were occupied. As it had been nearly every night since the crowning of Greenwood's first royal family a few days under a month back, King Oropher was late for the evening meal, a fact which did not sit well with his wife. She was silent, tapping her fingers rhythmically against the stem of her goblet as she waited, lips pressed together in a thin line and bright blue eyes flickering in a manner which heralded disaster for the victim of her wrath. She had warned her constantly busy husband that there were only so many hours in one day for a reason, but it seemed he had paid no heed to her words and was taking advantage of the evening to continue his work.

Seated directly opposite Queen Felith was her only child, the Crown Prince and heir to the throne. Thranduil fiddled absently with the hem of his tunic underneath the table and out of sight from his irritated mother's gaze, letting his own azure eyes drift towards a timepiece on the wall every few minutes. Twenty had gone by at a painfully slow pace since he had entered the dining room, eighteen or so since his father had been due. Although punctuality had always been important in their family, it had become even more so now that they were royalty and could not be seen to have imperfections. As such, the blond haired child always made a point of arriving just before his parents to avoid trouble. And whilst he was more than glad he would not be the one facing an irate lady's anger this night, he felt no sympathy for the one who would. If Oropher was content to make rules and regulations, he of all Elves should find them the easiest to abide by.

"Nana," Thranduil began hesitantly. "Do you think I should go and find him-?

"Stay where you are."

I did not move an inch. "Alright."

Felith sighed and leaned forwards to rest her arms on the table, another action which was not condoned for royalty. It was almost as though she was purposefully defying her husband's rules in his absence. "I am not angry with you, just frustrated with your father. I would expect tardiness from a child of your age, but even you set a better example. I suppose I should not speak ill of him."

"It is true," Thranduil concurred grimly. "Last week he was so late that our meals became cold. You should say something to him, Nana."

"No, it is not truly his fault. He is still adjusting to this, we all are. He believes that he has to be the best for our people, and leaving a letter unsigned or a trading list incomplete is failing the ones who chose him as ruler. I am more than aware it is not so, I am sure you see it is not so; telling your father it is not so does nothing to change his ideas." Felith's golden head shook, and she offered her son a small smile. "Start eating, penneth. It is unfair to keep you waiting, and you know that were the situation different and you were the one not on time, you would be forbidden from eating with us."

"I thought starting a meal with not everyone present was incorrect etiquette and against protocol," Thranduil said, confusion lacing his voice. How will I ever learn to be a Prince if Ada tells me one thing but you have me do another? He will come in to see me eating and will be angry, but it won't be my fault because-

The door opened to admit the Elf occupying his thoughts, and a barely audible breath of relief that he had been saved from trouble left his lips as he rose briefly from his chair to acknowledge his father and King's arrival. That was something he had never had to do before being crowned as royalty, and it was another amendment to his life not very much enjoyed by him. Oropher nodded and took a seat at the head of the table, seemingly oblivious to the controversy he had caused within his small family until Felith poured wine and placed the goblet before him with more force than was necessary. He let his eyes rest on the turbulent liquid before moving them to his wife's fair face. They rested there for a moment as he considered, then lifted slightly to regard the timepiece upon the wall. Realisation must have dawned, for he sighed and held up his hands as though to defend himself.

"I can explain-

"We will speak of this later," Felith broke in coolly. "Alone."

"Very well, but know that I did not do this to anger you. I truly thought there was yet time before dinner was served," Oropher said. His cover was met with stony silence, and he gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Alright, it shall be as you wish; we will speak later."

As his father gestured that they should begin the meal, Thranduil cast him a sideways look. "You must have been very busy, Ada. Did you finish everything that you needed to?"

"Just about. I remember reading stories of Kings and Queens when I was a child, wishing that I could be like them and have servants, courtiers. Of course, the books on my shelf never detailed the immense stacks of paperwork, appointments with people of the realm and meetings with advisors and ambassadors from other countries," Oropher answered. "You are fortunate in that you will go through the appropriate diplomatic training to prepare yourself for ruling a country. You will know what to expect, whereas I must learn as I go."

"May we refrain from discussing matters of state at the table," Felith requested quietly.

The dark haired Elf looked up, and nodded acquiescence. "Of course, you are right. Tell me what you did today, ion-nín."

"Nothing very exciting. I saw Linwë and Veassen for a while this afternoon, but they have lessons now so I don't have much of a chance to be with them during the daytime," Thranduil recounted. "I practiced my tree climbing, and only fell twice. I think I'm improving, but my skills do not come close to matching those of the Wood-elves. And after that I went to the new archery fields to watch the novices train. The weapon masters work them hard, far harder than they do us in our archery and sword practices. I do not much look forward to becoming a novice if that is how a warrior is made."

"You have a few years left before that moment," Felith assured her son. "Unfortunately, there is less time before you begin your own lessons, as your friends have already done. How are they finding them?"

"They don't enjoy learning and having to do work, but I don't think they really mind. Linwë finds it more difficult because he is growing up without his parents and his brother often does not have the time to help him, whereas Veassen has a mother and father and two older sisters to ask if he does not understand," Thranduil said slowly. "I think I would enjoy learning if I could study with my friends and have the same teacher."

In the middle of lifting his goblet of wine, Oropher placed it back on the table and levelled the child with a green gaze. "We have discussed this. You cannot attend communal lessons. As a Prince, you will have a private tutor who gives you lessons not only in language, numbers, history and the other subjects your friends study, but also politics, lore and the diplomatic training I mentioned previously. A communal teacher cannot work with a class if one student has so many additional requirements. It would be impossible."

"I know," Thranduil sighed.

Felith's lips turned upwards at the lack of enthusiasm in his voice. "You complain now, but I know you will not find it to be as awful as you currently believe. We will soon begin the process of choosing a suitable tutor for you, and you will have some say in the matter."

"Not too much, or one will never be chosen," Oropher murmured.

The young Elf's eyes flickered slightly at his father's comment, but he did not rise to the bait and give a retort that would surely land him in trouble. Instead he speared a piece of cured ham with his fork, directing his inaudible irritation there instead as the older immortals held quiet conversation about various tutors and the studies he would undertake. He paid no heed to the conversation now that he had been turned out of it. He really was not daunted by the prospect of lessons as he knew Linwë and Veassen had been; above all else he wished for the chance to have an aspect of normalcy in his life. He learnt the art of archery and wooden swordplay away from the palace with his friends and other youths their age, but even then he was treated like a delicate flower just because he was the Prince and nobody wanted to be guilty of doing him harm. Sometimes he secretly desired that someone would hurt him, just so they could finally see that he would not break into a hundred shattered pieces. It was a strange thing to want, but the constant belief that he was special enough to be treated so differently grated on the child's nerves.

During his musings there had come a knock upon the door, although so caught up in reflections had he been, he did not realise until his father granted entry to whoever had disturbed their meal. There was another rule. When the Royal Family were dining privately in their own wing of the palace, they were not to be interrupted. So it was with mild interest that Thranduil looked up to watch the scene play out, silently wondering what was so very important that the newcomer, a Silvan Elf in the green livery of the serving staff, could not wait half an hour to say.

"Your Highnesses, I ask that you forgive my intrusion at this hour," he began.

"Perhaps you can explain it," Oropher said quietly.

"Two Elves have arrived at the palace, and they request an audience." The member of serving staff must have known the response his words would evoke, for he winced slightly as he spoke. "They would have...an immediate audience."

Felith's golden head shook vehemently moments before her husband opened his mouth to reply. "Immediate? They wish to see him now? That is not the way appointments are made. These Elves must arrange a suitable time with the King's aide rather than disturb a family meal, one which he arrived twenty minutes late for due to other meetings, I might add. No, Hirilas. Unless it is a matter of life and death, I fear my husband cannot speak with them tonight."

"They are most persistent, my Queen," Hirilas said quietly.

"That is as may be," Felith replied, her tone one of pure exasperation.

"Did they give names?" Oropher questioned. "Meleth-nín, it must be something of great importance they need me for to arrive at the palace so late."

Hirilas' russet head bowed slightly in response to the words. "So it would seem, my Lord, although they will divulge nothing. Their request is a strange one indeed, for they have asked to stand not just before yourself but also the Queen and Crown Prince. Would you have them return in the morning?"

"Ada, if High King Gil-galad had not granted you admittance into his chambers when he did in Lindon, perhaps we would not be here now," Thranduil pointed out softly. All he really wanted was to see the waiting Elves and know what was so desperate. "Perhaps we should go. And if they haven't said what it is about, maybe it really is a matter of life and death."

"I am sure it is not," Oropher said. "But, you do speak some truth. Come."

As her husband and son rose from the table and left the dining room, Felith's blue eyes moved towards the ceiling in frustration, but there was nothing she could do except push her own chair back and follow in their footsteps with as much calm in her stride as she could muster. The hapless individuals who had the nerve to pull even her young child from his evening meal would have some explaining to do, although she knew full well that the King's presence dictated she hold her peace in such a circumstance, that he would be the one to speak. Had she been alone, she would have delivered a tongue lashing to match one of Oropher's sharpest. As it was, she would have to contend with a winter cool glare.

The angry thoughts circulating through her mind were banished in the very instant the Royal Family rounded a marble walled corner and arrived in the vast entrance hall at the front of the palace. Two Elves with braided hair dark enough to be called black stood together in the centre of the round area, their stances seemingly defensive as they waited with arms folded over their chests and green eyes narrowed to cold slits. They were similar in appearance, possibly father and son, and both wore stained travelling cloaks over their shoulders. Upon glimpsing Oropher for the first time they visibly started, but neither made any other move. Indeed, their gazes hardened somewhat and they regarded the ruler in silence, waiting for him to approach them. In any other visitor to the royal home, such mannerisms would surely be considered insolent. In these, their audacity was barely noticed by the King and his family.

He stepped forwards with a breath of shock, resting one hand on the father's shoulder and the other on the son's smooth cheek. "Valar, how can this be?" he murmured. "I thought you would send word when you left Lindon. I was not expecting either of you for... Well, certainly not this soon. You have been travelling hundreds of leagues and I never knew. Sweet Elbereth, if anything had happened..."

"Our journey was uneventful for the most part," the taller of the two newcomers replied quietly. He was Vehiron, the younger brother of Greenwood's new ruler, and he had stayed behind in Gil-galad's kingdom to arrange the family's affairs whilst his sibling led a small group of Sindarin Elves to their new beginning in Arda's greatest forest. "Judging by the drama wrought in your life, I assume the same cannot be said for yours."

At the frosty words, Oropher's brow furrowed in confusion. "It was...memorable, I suppose. Is all well? You do not seem to be yourself."

"I am not myself? Valar, less true words have never been spoken. If I and my son are cool towards you and your family, it is because you are not yourselves," Vehiron said, his voice short. "The last we were together, everything was normal. The three of you were just Elves, just normal... We were equals, all of us. Now I do not know if I should bow to you or kneel upon the floor. It has been months, and all I want is to embrace my brother, but is that forbidden? Is it against royal protocol? We have been detained in this hall for the last fifteen minutes because the royals 'cannot be disturbed'. We would have been sent away if not for my persistence that we see you. And you wonder why I do not throw myself at you in greeting?"

"I am sorry for that, but had I known it was you..." Releasing a long sigh, the dark haired ruler leaned forwards and pulled the younger Elf to him. "You speak folly. Things have not changed so much that I cannot embrace a loved one after months apart. That goes for you too, Saeldur."

As Oropher hugged his nephew close, Felith and Thranduil came forwards to greet their newly arrived family members. Vehiron kissed the Elf-queen's porcelain cheek before lifting his own nephew up into strong arms and tousling his blond hair, an action which was met with good natured protests from the victim in question. Immortals passing through the entrance hall on various matters and business averted their eyes from the happy moment to give the reunited relatives the privacy they deserved, although smiles were shared at the infectious laughter and joy that warmed the hearts of those who stood witness. After the initial minutes of shocked euphoria had vanished, the King of Greenwood led his kin away from the front of the palace and back towards the private wing lived in by the royals. There was much to speak of, and conversation after so long was best held in comfort with an open bottle of wine.

Someone must have anticipated the family's arrival, for the lounge area they entered into was ready and prepared with the balcony doors thrown open and drinking vessels laid out upon a marble table overlooking the great forest of Greenwood. Both Vehiron and Saeldur let out appreciative breaths at the views given to them from such a height, and indeed it was a spectacular sight. With blood red rays cast across a purple sky the tips of the trees were stained in unnatural shades of a dusky nature for miles around, and flocks of woodland birds soared in the shadows of the sun. Even Oropher took a moment to gaze at a scene he knew he would never become weary of.

"It is beautiful," his brother murmured.

"Yes, quite a treat for the eye," Felith smiled. "Before anything else, I propose that the pair of you take a wash and change your attire. You must be eager to be out of your travelling clothes. I shall go to the kitchens and ready some food for you."

"I take it you have not neglected your cooking," Vehiron observed.

"Wild wolves could not keep her from it," Oropher replied quietly.

The fair Elven lady cast a fond look in his direction, her earlier irritation at his late hours clearly forgotten, and gave a brief nod of concurrence. "That is quite true, meleth-nín. Now, rooms must be arranged whilst you are washing. For tonight you shall have sleeping chambers to rest in, but tomorrow I shall see it done that you have your own apartments as befitting members of the Royal Family. Vehiron, come with me and I will find an adequate room. Saeldur, your cousin will show you to yours. Take him to the large one three doors down from here, ion-nín."

"Nana, perhaps they will not stay," Thranduil began, his voice hesitant and hushed. "Perhaps they don't want what we have."

"You must remember that we were loath to take these positions of power when first they were offered to us," Oropher continued softly. "It may be that Vehiron and Saeldur do not wish for titles, palace life and royal responsibilities. That is something they will have to take away with them and think over, just as we did."

Felith was still, silent as she considered her husband's words and the truth that lay behind them. "Yes. Yes, of course. Forgive me, I did not think. It just... You know their blood ties to us mean their paths have changed now. No doubt they expected to arrive in Greenwood and settle in a small home in the forest where they would live peacefully. I wonder if, had they known what awaited them, they would have remained in Lindon or taken another course."

"We can discuss this at a later time," Vehiron said with a small smile to ease his sister-in-law's evident worry. "For now, all I wish is to discard my dirtied clothing and have a warm wash. Will you show me my room?"

"Of course I will," Felith murmured. "Thranduil, take your cousin."

Catching his dark haired relative's eye, the Crown Prince nodded quiet assent and led the way from the lounge area a short distance down the corridor. He said nothing as they walked, fully conscious of the fact that Saeldur had been stonily silent ever since arriving in the palace. Even his embrace in the entrance hall had been cold, almost forced. The two shared a strange relationship. They always had done, and it did not seem as though anything had changed since the last time they were together. For years the older of the two had been an only child in a family of adults, and then Felith had given birth to an infant who had immediately stolen the attention and adoration. Thranduil's arrival in the world had let loose in Saeldur a maelstrom of different emotions; envy of the youth and innocence lost to him, dislike of the child watching duties he often became burdened with, resentment for the trouble he would find himself landed in after trying to look after his young cousin. There was no doubt he loved the boy in a fashion, but his like for him was questionable.

"There should be towels in the washroom," the royal child said softly. "Ada lets me use this as a guest room when my friends stay here at night."

Saeldur gave a curt nod, and turned away to look out of the window. "Thank you."

"Right... Well, I shall just leave. If you need anything..." Thranduil shifted slightly, inaudibly wishing that he did not have to address his cousin's back. "Do you?"

"What?"

"Need anything."

"No."

"I will see you back in the lounge, then." As the boy turned towards the door, he hesitated with his hand just an inch above the handle and glanced over his shoulder. "I am glad you have finally come."

His words were met with continued silence, but a warm reply was the very last thing he had expected. Although he was loyal to Saeldur and loved him very much, he had accepted without reason a long time ago that his devotion would never be appreciated or returned. The older Elf struggled with emotions that were not negative ones almost as though he did not know how to feel them, something which stemmed from a lack of maternal love to guide him through childhood and adolescence. His father had become strict and a harsh disciplinarian after the death of his mother, and that too was a point of great resentment for him. Perhaps behind closed doors he was sombre and a victim to moods of darkness, but acting skills put to good use hid the truth of his thoughts and real self from those who should know him best. The only one he felt able to be himself around was Thranduil, purely because his cousin cared too much for him to speak of his different ways in front of anyone else. And since he had witnessed those ways all his life and took them now as routine and normal, there was never any need to give explanations that would not be understood, explanations that Saeldur himself did not truly understand.

Pulling the door quietly shut behind him, Thranduil returned to the lounge area and took a seat on the balcony with his parents. The sun had set further, and he moved his chair out of shadows to catch the last warm rays. "I showed Saeldur to his room. He was not talkative, so I think he must be tired after travelling for so long."

"It will be an early night for him, then," Felith smiled. "I would not blame either of them for seeking immediate rest. We know the journey from Lindon is not an easy one, and you would have slept for days on end after our arrival in Greenwood, had you been allowed. We will leave lengthy discussions until the morning."

From over the rim of his goblet of wine, Oropher regarded his son with concern clouding the green pools of his eyes. "What worries you, child? Something preys on your mind."

"Why do you think that?" Thranduil questioned. His facade lasted no more than a few seconds before he recognised defeat and let it go. "Yes. I am happy to have Uncle Vehiron and Saeldur here after so long, but I fear that the happiness will only last a while because if they don't want to be royalty like us, they might leave again and we would hardly see them at all. They are tied to us by blood, as Nana said, and that means everything would be different if they did choose to stay and become a part of Greenwood's history. Perhaps they would resent us for doing that to them, because it was never what they wanted in the first place. Does that make sense?"

"I understand," Felith murmured, giving her son a gentle nod. "We have brought them into something that they never expected to enter."

"When I was given the choice of accepting the rule of this forest, I thought of my brother and nephew. I knew how long it would take for a message to reach them and a reply to return, and I knew too that I could not keep the people of Greenwood waiting for such a time," Oropher said quietly. "If contact had been easier I would have consulted them without a moment of hesitation, but the distance between us was too wide. I made my decision without their blessing; although that may have been selfish, part of me hoped they would be willing to stand at my side and share in the experiences and changes to come."

"Do you think they will?" Thranduil whispered.

The new King let his eyes drift off the balcony and over his darkening realm, the expression upon his fair face unreadable as he shook his head slowly. "I cannot say. That must be for them to decide."

"What would they become?" Felith wondered aloud. "We have our titles and we know the roles we play within the forest. What of theirs?"

"I do not doubt that such a matter would be spoken of with the Circle of Elders, who still hold great sway in my court, before anything conclusive was reached," Oropher relied slowly. "Perhaps they would become Lords of Greenwood. Or Regent and Vice-regent, respectively. It is too early to yet make such a decision."

"I would not be your Regent." One pair of emerald eyes and two pairs of sapphire swung towards the balcony doors as the new voice cut into their conversation. Vehiron, dressed in clean clothes and wearing damp hair tied off his face, pushed himself away from the lintel and came out to sit with his family. "It is as Felith said earlier. I left Lindon expecting to start a peaceful new life. When the rumours reached me half way through the journey, I came close to turning aside from my path and seeking a home elsewhere with Saeldur. We left Gil-galad's kingdom because it was just that: a kingdom. Greenwood was meant to be different. It was meant to be free."

"It is not oppressed," Oropher said quietly.

"No. Nor is it what we came for," Vehiron countered.

"Then, what are you saying?" Felith murmured, her eyes cast outwards over the trees as she voiced the question. "What are you trying to say?"

As his elders spoke, Thranduil respectfully kept himself out of the discussion, but he listened intently to all that was said and contributed silently. 'Please don't let it be what I think he's trying to say, what I fear. I want him to stay. Valar, make him stay.'Although he had slowly become accustomed to being without his uncle and cousin present in his life, they had been sorely missed for a long time. To lose them again so swiftly would cut deeply.

"I will not be your Regent," Vehiron repeated, leaning forwards to hold his sibling's green eyes. "But I will be here. Do not think for a moment that I intend to leave Greenwood and my family so soon after arriving and being reunited with then. I will never want a claim to the throne, but that does not mean I cannot stand by you and take on whatever duties are put upon me as the King's brother. I will stand by you, Oropher. You have my support."

The words drew a breath of relief from Thranduil, and he could not help taking a step back into the conversation going on around him. "What of Saeldur? He will stay too?"

"Valar, of course he will. Half of that Elf's life has been spent buried in books and fantasy," Vehiron snorted. "He would not miss this adventure for all of Arda."

"I am glad of that, for a certain son of mine would become most distressed if his cousin were not here to share in it," Oropher said, a smile tugging at his lips. It lasted just a matter of seconds before something akin to regret flickered upon his fair face. "Listen to me, I am sorry that you were dragged into this, sorry that Saeldur too has become ensnared. If I could have spoken with you when the choices were laid at my feet..."

"You would have done." The younger brother gave a small shrug of his shoulders, dismissing the apology. "I judged you before, but I know better now. It was not an easy predicament you were in. There is no need for you to justify yourself and explain your reasoning. Cease your worrying."

Felith poured a glass of wine for her brother-in-law with the exchange of serious words finished, and Thranduil waited for the adults to settle comfortably before rising from his own chair. "I am going back to Saeldur," he informed them. "Perhaps he will be hungry. I can show him where the kitchens are. Would you like me to bring you anything whilst I am there?"

"No," Oropher said gently. "Thank you."

Watching his nephew turn to leave, pause a second before bowing his head and then go on his way again, Vehiron smiled slightly. "He is not yet accustomed to having a King and Queen for parents, no? It must have been a difficult change for him, although he seems to be doing well. He appears somewhat older than the last time I saw him, as though he has grown emotionally and become stronger, more confident in himself."

"He made some friends on our journey, for which we are more than thankful. Both are pleasant children and they have brought him forth from the shell he used to hide in, but... Sometimes his brashness and spirit is too much like it was back in our old settlement, and he has to be reminded that he is a Prince now and cannot behave as anything less. I think perhaps he forgets that at times," Oropher reflected slowly. "He has to learn more respect for his position as heir to the throne. And whilst he yearns to be just like his friends, we know that is not a possibility. The differences between them are too great, but the child will not listen to us when we tell him so. However, he has a firmer hand than ever he did before, so we hope he will learn the appropriate lessons sooner rather than later."

"He does try," Felith murmured.

"I did not say otherwise," the King interjected. "I just think perhaps he needs to try harder."

"Meleth, you do not see his efforts as clearly as anyone else. If you had the time to look..." With a soft sigh and a smile to take the edge from her words, the golden haired lady gave a slight shake of her head. "No, this is a joyous occasion. I shall not ruin it with a marital quarrel."

"Good. That saves me some bother," Oropher jested.

As the three Elves laughed and continued to drink their wine, Thranduil quietly closed the inside lounge door and walked a short way down the corridor to his cousin's room, the light blue pools of his eyes darkened by the conversation he had overheard. Felith had spoken more than truthfully. If only a few moments were spared for him every now and again, his father might just see the struggles undertaken in an attempt to be the best son and Crown Prince it was possible for him to be. As it was, if Oropher placed his workload above the development of his own child... Shrugging carelessly and spreading his hands as though to convince himself that he truly was not troubled, the Elfling raised one hand to knock on Saeldur's door. No answer came from the other side of the wooden portal, and he pushed it open with just a soft creak of the hinges to announce his presence.

The room beyond was shrouded in blackness, and only a chink in the floor length curtains let in any light from rising Ithil and the congregating stars high above. A slender shape was just visible beneath the blankets covering the bed, and although Thranduil breathed his cousin's name, nothing but silence greeted him. He reflected the situation for close to a minute before leaving the sleeping chamber and retracing his footsteps. Although it was yet early and he felt like some company, he did not greatly desire to be in his father's presence after the conversation he had heard. So it was that the young Prince of Greenwood the Great sought his own bed, curling up beneath the duvets with his eyes fully focused for hours on end, caught in a turbulent place between joy at his relatives' arrival and hurt that his efforts had gone so long unnoticed by the one Elf whose approval he had become desperate for over the last month.

As the sun drifted lazily across the sky beyond walls of stone and marble, Saeldur finished the last slice of apple he had pilfered from the palace kitchens after forsaking the invitation to break his fast with the rest of his family, and rubbed the excess juice onto his dark leggings before it could make his hands sticky. His excuse for avoiding the dining hall had been weariness carried over from the previous night, but his eyes were alert and his steps far from trudging as he walked through the corridors of the royal wing to his cousin's rooms. Although not as spacious as the apartments belonging to the King and Queen, a playroom and separate wash chamber had been given to the forest's Crown Prince. His raven haired relative took a moment to quietly investigate the private rooms, which he felt sure were large enough together than any of the wooden houses he had passed whilst travelling through Greenwood, before moving towards the bedroom and knocking once on the door.

"Thranduil, are you there? I am coming in."

"No, wait! Don't-

Saeldur arched one eyebrow as he entered just in time to see his cousin shove something under the bed pillows and sit up swiftly, a portrait of innocence as he folded his legs beneath him. "Am I disturbing something?"

"You are meant to wait until granted admittance to another Elf's room," Thranduil replied hotly. "It is against royal etiquette to just walk in unannounced. You will have to learn this if you are to become royalty. My father is furious when I... He would be furious if I did that."

"I shall remember that for the future, but I cannot help wondering what I did intrude upon. What can you possibly be doing that is such a secret you have to hide it? Don't look at me that way, I saw you push something or other underneath your pillows," Saeldur said bluntly. "Show me. You know you can trust me. I am your cousin, no?"

"That is beside the point," Thranduil muttered.

Raising his eyes towards the ceiling, the dark haired Elf perched on the edge of the bed and reached towards the pillows. A smaller hand came down atop his, holding him back. He looked at the restraint through a narrowed gaze for a moment before withdrawing and giving a disdainful sniff. "Fine, have it your own way. I suppose you can do that now. Order your elders around and dictate to them what they must and must not do. Good for you, but you have no idea how that will irritate me in the years to come."

"I only did it to stop you from..." A sharp breath rushed from Thranduil's lips, and he turned slightly to pull the concealed item from its hiding place. "It is a book. Nothing more, nothing less. Were you expecting something shocking?"

"'History of Royalty'" Saeldur read from the spine of the leather bound book. "What is this? I thought Greenwood has never had-

"It has not," the Crown Prince broke in quietly. "I just took this out of the library to read. It contains general accounts from royal Elves of the past, and I thought that maybe it could...help me."

"Help you?"

Thranduil's blue eyes glittered defensively at the scorn lacing the older immortal's voice, and he leaned forwards to hiss, "You need not mock me. I knew you would, I knew you would laugh. But you will see for yourself soon enough that none of it is as easy as anyone thinks. I want to be better and I want my father to stop being disappointed in my failure to adjust as swiftly as he has, so any help is welcome. If reading about other Elves who have been different can make that task easier, I will do it."

"You have the wrong book, cousin," Saeldur sighed. "This will tell you nothing. Take my word as truth. I was an apprentice to the scholars in Lindon and I undertook training with them to teach young children before the decision to leave the kingdom was made. If you wish to read accurate books, return this to the library and try instead the stories and fictional tales. More often than not they are of much more use than the factual accounts."

"Is that so?"

"Trust me."

Chewing pensively upon his lower lip, Thranduil nodded his blond head slowly. "Perhaps I will do that later today, then. Thank you." He paused at his cousin's careless shrug, and cast the dark haired Elf a sideways glance. "I remember how much you enjoyed books and spending your time amongst old scrolls and parchments, but you know that becoming a part of Greenwood's royalty means you cannot live as you used to. Your training and all that you learnt with the scholars will be for nothing, because you will have to take up weapons and become a warrior."

"I do know how to fight," Saeldur said haughtily.

"Not as the Wood-elves do. When my father took the crown, he swore to protect and defend the forest against any enemy. My mother took that same vow, as will I when I am of age. Ruling Greenwood means fighting for her safety too, so you need to be ready to join the army at any moment," Thranduil informed the other immortal. "I heard this at the dining table earlier this morning. I just thought I would pass it on to you before it comes from a higher place."

"We all must make sacrifices," the raven headed Elf murmured. He rose from his place on the bed as though to leave altogether, but he stopped in his tracks almost immediately and turned back once more. "Look, I am sorry for the way I was last night. It has been months since last we were together, and I was as cold as a block of ice. I should have made more of an effort to... Sometimes my temperament is strange. It confuses even me on occasion, but... Well, I am sorry."

Thranduil held up one hand, dismissing the apology with a small shake of his head. "Don't. I know it has been a while, but I have not forgotten who you are. Your mood sways like a pendulum and you can be close to intolerable at times. It is just you. You cannot change and I did not expect you to be any different."

The corners of Saeldur's lips turned upwards in a fleeting smile that did not quite reach the deep green pools of his eyes, and he nodded in silent thanks as he turned away to complete his intended departure. There was no doubt as to where he would be headed. The fact that duty and obligation would soon take away his carefree days spent amongst books and scrolls could not sit well with him at all, and the palace library was sure to become a private retreat until his own life turned upside down just as his cousin's had already. Watching him leave, Thranduil shook his head slowly and pulled the book he had borrowed across the bed, flicking absently through the leaves to find the page on which he had been interrupted. He was close to the end, but he would not return the book for a while yet. He had already made a silent wager with himself that it would be just days before Saeldur realised he too would need all the help he could find to avoid becoming a failure in the eyes of the King.

A soft sigh escaped the Crown Prince's lips at that detested word resounding madly in his head. Failure.It did not seem to matter what he said or did, nothing was right, nothing was good enough for the impossibly high standards that had been set by Elves who were blind to the difficulties he faced time and time again. Although he could not believe it at that moment in time, Thranduil would meet such requirements one day, and he would rise far above them too, to become a son who made his parents proud, a husband, a father, the most beloved and strongest King to rule Greenwood the Great. But it would take experiences seen not even in his darkest nightmares to get him to that point of perfection; experiences painted in shades of pain, grief, tears and blood; experiences which would come to light in a not too distant future. Danger was coming. It was yet some distance away, but the first threads of a morbid tapestry were already being woven.

THE END.

I know that this was a fairly short story, but I really only intended to be a filler before I start the main stories which will be a lot longer and much more angst-filled. I'm going on holiday to Tenerife in...about an hour (!) but I wanted to get this posted before leaving. The third story will be up in about a month. Thank you to the people who have left me reviews, it means a lot. Also, as I said in the first chapter, 'To Begin Again' has been nominated in the category for Best Thranduil in the MPA Awards. If you enjoyed reading it, I'd really appreciate it if you could vote for me. Anyway, thank you again to everyone who has read this. See you next month.

Mistopurr