A/N: This is just the tame version of the same story in the M section. I encourage you to head over there and enjoy the elf-smut...it's nice, but I felt we could do with one for the younger folk as well. Enjoy!

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A Tale of Gratitude and Pining Hearts

It was over, the ring had at last been destroyed and now Thranduil had taken a hand full of troops, himself included, and began to clear the forest of the remaining evil. A few remaining orc packs were lurking on the edges of what used to be known as Greenwood and he had every intention of taking back his forest. Within his company were the courts most skilled healers, including the one that had saved his own son nearly a millennia ago. She was nothing back then, just a mere elleth wandering the lawn when the dear prince had returned a broken mess on the back of his horse with less than a quarter of those he had left with.

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Ambushed.

The elven king's heart would have split in two, if it had not already been broken after the loss of his wife, and now he was about to lose his son.

Thranduil rushed to his son's side, catching his body as it slid off the saddle. His eyes had already begun to close and his skin was cool to the touch. The king collapsed to the ground, clutching his son in his arms and rocking it with soft sobs and murmurs of prayer.

And then there she was. Hair that mimicked the raven and eyes that rivaled the greenest of valleys. Her voice was timid, as she had never thought she would be one to approach royalty before; but her mother had taught her a thing or two in ways of healing that not even the elves dared think.

"Pardon me, my lord, but I believe I can help."

"Help? Help? What help can you offer me? You are no healer, you're not even from this realm!" the King snapped, expecting her to back away and leave him to his grieving.

Instead she boldly laid a hand across his arm, ignoring the arrows that were suddenly being pointed in her direction, and crouched down to meet his eyes.

"How can you know if I'm not granted permission to try?"

Thranduil searched her eyes for any sign of distrust or ill-fated will toward the princeling in his arms, and after a long moment he nodded his head once.

She smiled softly, turning her attention to the guards that still had their weapons drawn. "Quickly, move him to the healing room. And keep him as still as possible!"

The King regrettably relinquished his hold on his son and turned back to the strange elleth before him, his blue green eyes bleary and wet.

She looked on him with remorse, "I'll do what I can," she said with another touch to the arm.

Twice this stranger had been so bold as to touch him when most in the kingdom was afraid to even speak to him.

She stood and began to jog off in the direction of the wood.

"Wait!" he called after her, "where are you going?"

She looked down and waved her hands simply over her body, "I can't make miracles out of nothing, my King. Now go. Be with him until I return."

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NÍnimil shook her head as she gathered up her supplies and stuffed them into a small pack. Getting herself involved with royal affairs, what was she thinking? But she couldn't just sit back and watch now could she? That just wasn't in her nature. She'd always wanted to help people, it was the least she could do after her own mother's final farewell.

She made it back to the healing rooms rather quickly; time wasn't on her side. The prince was quickly fading and there was no magic that was going to save him now. Her hands felt along his neck and she leaned down to listen to his shallow breaths.

She had seen similar injuries before, where the lung had become deflated, luckily for him it was only one.

She had to force the King out of the room, an act she was sure would get her some form of scolding somewhere down the line, but it was for his own well-being. There was no telling what he would have done once he saw her actually pierce the prince's side, so she thought it best if he left.

"You'll have to hold him down…this isn't going to be pretty," she nodded to a nearby healer that was standing watch.

She took a breath and inserted the blade below his under arm, wincing as his body arched and he cried out. Surely his father had heard that, she only hoped he stayed on the other side of that door. Another healer came to hold his other side as she continued on.

"Goheno nin,"(forgive me) she whispered, praying that this was going to work and that by morning she would not be fearing for her life. "Please, please, Legolas, you must hold on."

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It was a slow recovery, but he was recovering; and when the king wasn't busy with the court he was sitting by his side. Thranduil had tried many times to get him moved back to his private chambers but NÍnimil would have nothing of it. It was still far too risky to move him. Besides, she also sat with him, she was afraid if he was moved she wouldn't be able to monitor him any longer. It wasn't as if she was a healer of the court, she was only a simple elleth.

It was on the third week when his eyes finally opened and she was ever so glad that she had been the one sitting by his bedside. She had seen him from afar, but now that she had him before her and that his eyes were open and staring into hers she couldn't believe the clarity of blue she was looking into.

"Welcome back," she smiled gently. "Your father has been fretting over you night and day."

He opened his mouth to speak but it was too dry to do so and she quickly poured him a glass of water and assisted him in taking it down.

"I remember," he groaned, holding a hand over his still tender side. "In the dark, I heard a voice. It apologized, and pleaded for me to hold on."

"Shh, you still need to rest. Your father will be glad to know you're awake." She gave him a soft smile and stood to take her leave.

"It was you. You…did you have a hand in my saving?"

She was facing from him now, flushed pink all the way to the tips of her ears. "I shall get your father."

"What is your name? At least tell me that." His breathing was still ragged and she could hear the yearning behind his labored speech.

"NÍnimil," she whispered, before quickly moving out the doors before her.

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"Truly?" Thranduil questioned her with eyes bright as the sea.

"Aye, my lord. He woke naught but an hour ago," she said with a small nod.

He came down from his throne and gathered her hands in his, bringing them up to her lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I cannot thank you enough. You have exceeded my expectations let alone that of a half-breed."

NÍnimil's heart stopped in her chest. Thranduil was known not to be kind to those other than his elven kin. She bit her lower lip and let her head fall forward as the blush found its way over her face.

She felt his finger grace the side of her face and tilt her chin up to face him. "Come now, henig, is my reputation really that ruthless. After all that pushing around I let you do to me, would you really think I'm as horrible a ruler as they say." He laughed lightly and tucked her hair behind her ears and brought his lips down upon her brow. "I am truly grateful, NÍnimil. Now go get some rest of your own, I know you have been as worry some as I." (my child)

Thranduil was quick to give her a place as a healer of the court, wanting both to make sure that his son was properly looked after and to repay her for her help. Although nothing in his eyes could ever be enough payment, she had saved all he had left in this world, without his son he would have surely faded away.

Legolas had taken quite fondly to NÍnimil as well; he had looked forward to waking up in the healing rooms to see her, even if it was to fuss over him. When she saw him fit to leave he still found himself wandering back to her, seeking her out for walks around the grounds and to gaze upon the stars. The pull between them was something both of them could not ignore yet something neither wanted to admit too. What would his father say? Surely he wanted something more than a half-elf for his son.

Someone of nobility.

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So they danced around the truth of their hearts, and she feared for him each time he left for battle and tended to his wounds each time he returned; no matter how small. But now he was leaving again, an evil had fallen over the Greenwood and there was talk of something greater looming over the fate of Middle Earth.

She heard him approach her from the wood beyond the glen. As stealthy as he was she always knew when he was near, she could feel it inside her very being.

"'Tis a good thing nobody has fallen ill, for my father would be disheartened to learn his finest healer has gone into hiding," his airy voice floated into her ears.

She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. "I'm not in hiding, Legolas, I'm…"she sighed, there was no word for what she was doing. Moping, pining over something that could never be hers, avoiding the prolonged goodbye they would share in the morning.

"You're what, NÍnimil." His steps got closer; she could practically feel his breath upon her back. "One has to be looking up to be stargazing, and the wood is quiet tonight. So what, pray tell, might you be doing?"

She turned, inhaling a sharp breath at his closeness and taking a stumbling step back. His hand automatically reached out and secured itself on her hip sending a wave of heat throughout her body. He brought his other hand down and let it rest on the other side taking a step closer to her. Her eyes slipped closed and her breath shuddered.

"Leithio nin." (release me)

"No." His voice was firm as well as his grip, but his eyes, oh by the Valar, his eyes were as clear as the heavens.

"I'll ask again. Man ceril, NÍnimil?" (What are you doing, NÍnimil?)

"Ú-iston," (I don't know) she whispered, averting her eyes from his.

His lips turned up and he let out a breathy laugh. "Yes you do, meleth," he said in a voice hardly above a whisper; his hand coming up to cup her cheek and tuck a strand of her dark tresses behind her ear. (love)

She took her bottom lip into her mouth and felt the tears begin to prick behind her emerald green eyes. For so long had she yearned to him utter such a word and it pained her to hear it at the same time.

"Don't," she sniffed, "we can't."

Legolas smirked, "Am man, Ada?" (Why, father?)

She nodded, tears finally creeping from her eyes and making trails down her cheeks.

"Oh, meleth nin," he sighed, wiping away her tears with his thumbs and bringing his forehead to meet hers. "I care not what Ada thinks, I'd relinquish the crown for you if need be. Surely you must know that, tell me you feel this pull as I do." (my love)

"Pe-channas! You cannot and you will not do such a thing!" (idiot) she pushed back on his shoulders and he stumbled back with a laugh.

"It shall not come to that, meleth." He took her hands in his and kissed each one before bringing them to rest in front of his chest.

Her green eyes dimmed. Here he was professing his love to her and he was leaving. Perhaps that was for the best, an angry Thranduil was not exactly good company. No matter what he said she still had her reserves. His father might not have been as hurtful to her as expected once he found out what she was but he still kept a close eye on her.

"I know of the ring," she said blatantly.

His eyes widened in both shock and in question.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. We both know your father likes his wine, perhaps he should practice keeping his voice quiet in those meetings of his."

"NÍnimil-"

She cut him off with press of her hand to his lips. "You'll be gone long, will you not? And the road will more than likely be most dangerous."

He sighed and let his head droop. "It is almost certain."

NÍnimil let her fingers graze over his cheeks and he eagerly pressed into her touch, closing his eyes at the warm contact her hand provided. She continued on until she had reached the base of his neck and had entwined her fingers in his blonde locks; drawing him towards her until their lips tentatively met.

He tasted of pine and fresh rain water and she swore there was a sudden flash of energy that spread throughout the glen when they met. The trees seemed to bend to their very will, dropping autumn leaves around them and the air pushing them further into each other's arms. He delicately traced the seam of her lips with his tongue before giving it a playful nibble, earning him a soft moan and a fist in his hair.

He backed her up until she was flush against a tree and let his hands skim over her body, his fingers flexing on her hips and instinctively tugging them into him. His head dropped to her neck and he began to place fluttering kisses to her flesh as she ran her fingers through his hair and up over the tips of his ears. He came back up and captured her lips with his own, slowing his kiss and his touches to soft pets and pecks.

He rest his forehead to hers, the breath between them becoming one. "Don't worry about, Ada, NÍnimil, I will speak with him upon my return."

NÍnimil linked her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her in an embrace, burying her face in his neck and clinging to him as if he were the last thing in Middle Earth.

"Come back to me, Legolas Thrandulillion…and in one piece."

She felt his laugh bounce in his chest and a swift kiss fell on her cheek before she found him relinquishing himself from her hold.

"Death it's self could not keep me from you, meleth nin," he said with a smile, squeezing her hands in his.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she whispered, going up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. "Lasto vae, my sweet Prince." (sleep well)

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NÍnimil lied back on the cot in her tent. It had been a long year, so many wounded, so many dead. The battle to drive the evil from Mirkwood had proven to be long and tiring and all the while her mind had been elsewhere. She couldn't help but worry for him, she felt his fear, felt his remorse when one of the fellowship had fallen, his worry. On more than one occasion Thranduil had been curious as to what was on her mind and she merely brushed it off as lack of rest. Which wasn't completely a lie, she didn't sleep much at all. When she did she saw more blood and death and heard the cries of mere children being sent to slaughter.

Honestly she'd rather not sleep another day until this was over.

She heard the flap of her tent opening and none other than his lord ship himself, in all his kingly glory, was sweeping into her space. She was gracious that he had held her in such high regard and she had quite a few more liberties with him than any other elleth; but he was still Legolas' father…and her King…and a royal pain on the battlefield.

"NÍnimil, there are men who need transport back to the court. I am being told," he paused grimacing at the word that no one ever dared utter to him before she graced his healing rooms. "…no."

She groaned as she passed a hand over her face. She didn't want to deal with his stubbornness today, she half wondered if she could perhaps offer him a nice glass of wine laced with a sedative.

No. She didn't have that much liberty.

"If you move them, my lord, they will die. They are not stable enough to be moved as of yet."

"Then what are you suggesting? We live out here for the coming months." He quipped with a raised brow.

"No, Thranduil, send for a cart. Short of that there isn't anything we can do." She rubbed at the building headache in her temples. The absence of feeling anything from Legolas the past few days was beginning to concern her.

"That will take a week, NÍnimil! I have duties to attend to now that the orc's are gone," he sounded almost desperate to get back to his precious dining halls.

"They are stable enough to wait; if you move them it could risk breaking back bones! Even you should know this! What, pray tell, is so important. Does Thrandy have a great party to host?" she snapped at him, instantly regretting the words that flew out of her mouth. Annoying and brattish at times or not he was still the King and she was surely in for it now.

His lips tightened and his eyes narrowed. "Leave us," he commanded to the guards that had accompanied him into my tent.

"My apologies, my lord," she began immediately, dropping to one knee. "I misspoke; it shall not ever happen again." she closed her eyes tightly and awaited for some sort of scolding and instead was greeted with the sound of a creaking on her cot and a light scoff.

"Get up, NÍnimil."

Her eyes popped open and she spun around in a state of shock. "I…I don't understand."

Thranduil smiled and patted the spot next to him. "Come, little one, sit with me."

She carefully approached the cot and sat down, watching him with her bottom lip secured between her teeth.

"It is the mortal aspect of you that intrigues me so, did you know that?" Thranduil began, his eyes soft and gentle and a smile played upon his face. "You were the first person in the land to challenge me, and still when you tell the others to tell me no I can sense they think I'm going to send them to their graves." Thranduil chuckled. "The dwarves only made my reputation worse." He sighed and shook his head. But that is another tale.

She hid an eye roll, she was well aware of that tale; Legolas had rode off with him for that mess as well.

"I received word from Gondor."

Her head snapped up and her brilliant eyes locked onto his.

"What word?"

The ring had been destroyed that much she knew, she had felt it as did they all, but that is when everything stopped. She lost her connection somehow. She had blamed it on stress and the fact that she was only half elven because she couldn't bear to think that anything had happened to him. She knew he wasn't dead, no, she definitely would have felt that.

"Your beloved Prince shall return home within a day," Thranduil replied with a cheery voice, tucking her hair behind her ear in a fatherly manner as he once did so many years ago.

NÍnimil couldn't stop the smile that broke out onto her face, nor the tears that streamed freely down her cheeks. She stopped suddenly once she realized what he had said.

"My what? You said…what did you say?"

It was Thranduil's turn to roll his eyes, and what a sight that was. "Come now, henig, do you think I am blind to the happenings in my kingdom, let alone the ones with my son. He hasn't stopped speaking of you since the day he woke from his injury."

"But-" she stopped and let the word hang from her mouth.

"But-?" he egged her on.

"I'm...I'm not. I mean, my mother was…" NÍnimil's gaze dropped and she folded her hands in her lap.

Thranduil gathered them and brought them up so they were hovering between the two of them. "I am very well aware, but that matters not. Have you learned nothing being in my court for such a length of time? I was starting to worry if he was going to find anyone at all."

She covered her mouth and suppressed a giggle. "But, my lord what of the men? Who will stay with them?"

Thranduil brushed his fingers together nonchalantly, "I sent for a cart two days ago, it should be here by morning."

"Pe-Channas!" (idiot) she laughed, swatting him on the shoulder. She jerked her hand back and covered her mouth once more. "Goheno nin! It was, I…I just…"(forgive me)

Thranduil laughed and shook his head, "Losto vae, NÍnimil, we ride at dawn." (Sleep well)

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She had never rode harder or faster in her life. She and Thranduil had left at dawn after he gave the others orders to pack up and follow after. They would probably arrive after him, but no matter, she was going to see him after the longest thirteen months she had ever experienced. And after living over two thousand years those months seemed like a lifetime.

They passed their horses off to be stabled and she all but raced into the throne room, Thranduil sashaying in behind her. And there he was, dressed in his riding clothes, standing next to a…was that a dwarf? By the Valar! Thranduil was going to have a time with that. His eyes found hers and they both stopped breathing.

Legolas' mouth dropped open slightly at the sight of her, dressed in blue tunic and brown leggings paired with a simple pair of boots. Not the normal gown she usually donned. Her dark hair braided back at the sides and her eyes as bright as ever. Behind her stood his ever doting father, his usual silver robes and spring flowers weaved into the branches of his crown.

"You're bound to catch a bug laddie if you don't shut that mouth of yours," the dwarf beside him chortled, giving him a slap on the back.

He approached her, hand over his heart and bowing slightly, "Mae g'ovannen, NÍnimil."

"Mae g'ovannen, Legolas," she breathed, blinking back the glistening tears in her eyes.

He brought her hand up and pressed a kiss to its back, never letting her eyes break contact with hers. When he rose she broke out into a smile and let the tears fall, launching herself into his arms and holding on to him for all that it was worth.

"Cormamin lindua ele lle," (my heart sings to see thee) she whispered while nuzzling deep into his neck, inhaling his familiar scent of pine and suede from his jerkin.

Legolas pulled away and cast a wary glance back at his father, who only stood beaming at his son.

"Mae g'ovanen, Ada." He greeted, stepping away from NÍnimil and towards his father and extended an arm towards the dwarf.

"Ada, this is Gimli, son of Gloin. He fought bravely as one of the nine in the fellowship and I am proud to call him my friend."

NÍnimil could see that Legolas was visibly nervous as he introduced the dwarf to his father. Yes he may have been accepting of her but she was at least elf kind, the elves and dwarves have not had an alliance in quite some time.

Legolas continued. "Gimli, this is my father, Thranduil, son of Oropher and King of Mirkwood."

Thranduil tilted his head to the side with a smile and nodded gracefully. "Welcome, Gimli, son of Gloin. It seems our tryst with the dwarves might be at last put to rest…Well for you anyway. I can't very well send away someone who had a hand in saving us all as well as putting up with my son for over a year.

"Aye, I can account to that," Gimli nodded, earning a pointed glare from Legolas.

"As for Mirkwood," Thranduil continued, "Galadriel has assisted in cleansing the evils from the wood and we shall now be known as Eryn Lasgalen." He took a step forward and wrapped an arm around Legolas' shoulder. "Tonight we shall feast, in honor of the new age, new friends and new beginnings." He turned his head and whispered into his son's ear, "And by the Valar a betrothal before long! An elfling before I sail would be nice." He winked and began to exit the throne room, with a clap of his hands.

"Go now, ready yourselves!"

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She had longed for a soak in the bath ever since she and Thranduil left for the edge of the wood, and now that she was back she wanted nothing more than to be in the arms of her sweet Prince. But a bath would have to come first, that time in the wood had been harsh on her body and she could do with the relaxation.

She bathed and redressed in a silver blue gown with a periwinkle lacing up the back and a sash wrapping around the middle to match. She left her hair un-unbraided, letting it fall in damp gentle waves down to her waist. There was a rap at her chamber door and she called for them to enter without thought or bothering to turn. She heard the door open and then close but nothing else. Only silence. She rounded the corner to see Legolas there, his hands behind his back, still dressed as he was before and a wanting look in his eyes.

She went to him, her fingers skimming his smooth cheeks as he let out a shuddering breath and let his eyes fall closed.

"NÍnimil," he breathed "I longed for you each day, meleth."

"As did I."

Her fingers traced the peaks of his ears and the rounded braid in his hair, "Le melin, Legolas. Oh, how I love you." (I love you)

He brought his lips down on hers, igniting the spark that had been started what seemed eons ago but was not but a blink. His hand tangled in her dark hair as his tongue swept into her mouth, gliding over hers with ease and eagerly tasting her sweetness. Oh! He cursed himself for waiting so long to make his admissions to her, the feeling that was building within him was something he wished never to be rid of, and the thought that he could have had it long ago only pained him.

She whimpered when he nipped at her lower lip and began to press kisses down her jaw line and into the valley of her breasts. She pulled him back up to her, assaulting his mouth with her own while her hands fumbled with the fastenings on his jerkin and letting it fall to the floor.

He pulled back momentarily, "NÍnimil, Ada…he-"

"Shh, shh, shh," she silenced him with her lips, "Hush, meleth, he is well aware. In fact I called him an idiot after he tried to mislead me."

Legolas arched an eyebrow, "And how did that go," he smirked.

"We are here, are we not?" she replied coyly. Her hands found their way to his tunic and began to work their way down its opening, running her hands up and down his firm body. She pushed it from his shoulders and added it to the pile with a grin. She frowned at the bruising on his body, running her hands along the edges of each one letting out a soft sigh.

"It is nothing, NÍnimil, you've seen me in far worse condition. It's all but healed by now," he reassured her as his fingers ran up and down her arm.

Her fingers ran up his side stopping on the small scar he had high on his right side. She bent down to press a kiss to the old wound.

"I never properly thanked you," he muttered, hooking a finger her chin and pressing his lips to hers.

"Hannon le, meleth nin." He gently turned her and swept her hair from her back and pushed it over her shoulder, placing a kiss to the back of her neck as he began to work at the lacings of her gown. She whimpered at the heat his fingertips left behind as they graced along her back.

"You would bind yourself to me, NÍnimil?" He let the gown pool at her feet and she was left standing in her under dress. "I require an answer, NÍnimil, or I shall be forced to stop."

"No," she breathed.

Legolas felt his heart drop into his stomach. "No?" he asked quietly, pulling away.

NÍnimil felt cold suddenly, why had he gone. Oh no! she thought scolding herself, whipping around to see his crestfallen face. "No, don't stop."

His mouth dropped open in a small o.

"As if I need to answer the first, Legolas. You know without a doubt I would bind myself to you, I could never love another. I haven't in over a millennia."

His mouth crushed to hers, his hands feverishly on her hips as he backed her up until they fell back onto the bed. He hovered over her, supporting himself with one arm while the other snaked down under her under dress and skimmed up her calf and tightened on her thigh. He pressed himself against her and let a groan of pleasure escape his lips when he felt her hips rise up to meet his. He wiggled his way out of his boots and rolled onto his back, taking her with him.

NÍnimil's fingers were now working the lacing of his leggings. She grinned, pulling her under dress over her head and looking down at him, her hair falling around them in a dark curtain.

"Lle naa vanima," (you're beautiful) Legolas said softly, running a hand down the length of her creamy skin. She leaned in and covered his lips with her own.

"As are you, meleth nin."

She was meant for him, they were meant for each other, for there was no other that could possibly make him feel as complete as he did in this moment. He began to move slowly, his blue eyes never leaving her green ones as two souls became one. No words need be spoken, only the breathing that was shared between them and the soft sounds of pleasure that they shared.

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They were to officially have an autumn wedding, even if Thranduil was sure they were bound well before then; but he bit his tongue on the matter. That elleth; that beautiful, pushy, majestic, elleth had saved his son in more ways than one, and he wouldn't dare wish for another to call his daughter.

"Elflings, my sweet, NÍnimil, I insist on elflings in the near future," the King whispered into her ear on her wedding day. "I am well beyond the years after all." He twirled her around the dance floor with ease, despite having a belly full of wine.

"You'll get them when you get them, old man," she smiled sweetly. "Your son is trying to rebuild a destroyed woodland don't forget. That is a very tiring job."

Thranduil smirked, "Still have that mortal charm, I see."

"Oh, and you're still as bull headed as ever," she said with an eye roll as he spun her around in a circle.

Thranduil let out a deep laugh, "Yes, I suppose some things shall always remain the same." He stilled their dance and held his hands in hers, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Meleth thilia min hin lin. I wish you an eternity of happiness, iell." (love sparkles in your eyes/daughter)

NÍnimil brushed away a tear and smiled up at Thranduil while biting down on her lower lip. She went up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Hannon le, my lord," she said softly.

Thranduil gave her a glare and raised his eyebrow to her.

"I am not calling you Ada," she laughed. "At least not yet."

Legolas stepped up beside them and gave his father a long sigh. "Must you pester her, Ada; I've heard you did much of that while I was away."

Thranduil smiled and clapped his son on the back, "No, I shall take my leave. Perhaps I will go find that dwarf friend of yours."

Legolas groaned and slid an arm around NÍnimil's back, pulling her forehead to his. "Elflings?"

"Mmm." She hummed in response, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"What did you tell him?" Legolas let his hand graze over her abdomen with a grin and she quickly batted it away with a laugh.

"Stop!" she giggled, "I said 'you'll get them when you get them, old man'," she grinned smoothing out the front of his robes and linking her arms around his neck.

"You said no such thing!" he laughed with a smile that lit up his eyes.

"My exact words. Let's just hope our children are more patient with your father than I am."

He leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss, tasting the remnants of cake. "How is it I found you, meleth nin?" he whispered against her.

"You almost died," she smirked. "And then I brought you back. A lot of work to gain the heart of a Prince." She fingered the spot where his scar lie beneath his robes. "Do you think we ever would have found each other otherwise?" She asked, her eyes dimming and the smile on her face falling into a frown.

"NÍnimil, of that I have no doubt."

Legolas cupped her face in his hands kissing her soundly with all the love he had inside of him to give. He traced the tips of her ears and let his hand rest on her cheek.

"Sevog i veleth nîn. Gerog i chûn nîn. Gin melathon an-uir." (you have my love/ you hold my heart/ I will love you for eternity.)

He kissed her lips again and wiped away the tear that had fallen with his thumb. "Come now, meleth, I believe we have overstayed our wedding feast welcome."

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A/N2: Now be good little ones, and leave Shelly some love in that box before you go.