The lengthy journey back to King Thranduil's fortress was gratefully uneventful. Whether it was a blessing or a curse, Legolas didn't know. The forest was quiet, too quiet save for the trees whispering of great a darkness rising.

Throughout the whole journey, Rhaveniel avoided all contact with Legolas. She couldn't stop thinking about that kiss... How she felt so free and full of hope. Did Legolas give her that? She knew she didn't love him, of course not, and she couldn't. She couldn't love anyone. She was too afraid to love for fear of loss.

She needed to hate him to save herself.

~*~*~*~*~

Walking through the gates, Legolas shuddered at the memory of the forests and was grateful to be home. His patrol left to the barracks where the novices would resume their training. He glanced back at Rhaveniel. They hadn't spoken since that 'incident', and Legolas cringed at the look of resentment she shot him. He straightened himself and lifted his nose.

Walking over to her, he looked as regal as his father. They held eye contact for a moment, neither wishing to back down. It was Legolas who spoke.

"Tomorrow, at sunrise on the training fields," Legolas said with a challenge gleaming in his bright eyes. It was time to change the tactic. He knew she couldn't back down from a challenge.

Rhavaniel lifted her nose and inclined her head. "I will be there," she said simply before walking away, leaving a smirking Legolas.

~*~*~

The next morning, Legolas was not at all surprised to see Rhavaniel enter the training grounds. He took a moment to observe her. She wore a tight black leather jerkin, black leggings, and matching boots. Her raven hair was tied into a high plait much like his. In her hands, two short swords. Her face was screwed in her normal scowl that only seemed to get bigger when she spotted Legolas.

Rhaveniel stood in front of Legolas and took in his appearance. The first thing she noticed was Legolas' jerkin. Its craftmanship showed he was of royal blood, but the most surprising thing was that half his chest was exposed down to his rib. She roamed her eyes over his skin unashamed then moved lower. His leggings were dark, and his boots the color of midnight with specks of gold from the buckles. His hair was tied into a high plait that cascaded down his strong back.

"Satisfied?" Teased Legolas when he noticed her scrutinizing him.

Rhavaniel met his eyes and tilted her head.

"One lap," Legolas commanded.

"What?"

"Run, a lap." Legolas motioned around the training field.

Rhavaniel shot him a glare before sprinting off. In no time she was back beside Legolas.

"Again," he commanded casually.

She muttered something under her breath and once again sprinted a lap around the field. Once again she returned and was sent back again and again and again.

Once Legolas was satisfied, he allowed her a chance to catch her breath.

"You do well with the short swords, but not good enough-"

"-not good enough?" Rhavaniel was obviously offended by this.

"Silence," Legolas hissed. "Your skill with the swords needs honing. You also must learn the bow. You always aim to kill, you cannot afford to lose an arrow. This you know."

Rhavaniel cringed. She knew too well. That day with the orcs she had missed, and it nearly costed her life. Of course, she wouldn't admit that though.

"You have what it takes to be excellent, Rhavaniel, yet you cut yourself short."

Rhavaniel dropped her eyes for a moment. He was right.

"We start with the bow, then hand-to-hand combat," Legolas strode over to the many targets, and Rhavaniel followed. "Choose a bow."

Rhavaniel selected a longbow and grabbed a quiver of arrows then strapped it on her back. She stood by the target and for the first time waited for instruction.

"Enter your stance," Legolas commanded and watched her move into position. "Good. Now notch your arrow and drawback to your mouth."

When Rhavaniel raised her bow to high, Legolas reached out his hand a moved it lower. "Good. Now relax. Use your back muscles." Legolas watched her concentrate on the target, and he slightly admired her features. "Aim, release, follow through."

Her arrow whisted threw the air and embedded itself inches from the bullseye. Rhavaniel lowered her bow and looked at her arrow somewhat satisfied.

"You're talking to much time to aim," Legolas critiqued and took the bow from her. He took up his stance then notched his arrow, drew back and released. His arrow whistled through the air and secured itself in the dead center. He turned to see Rhavaniel cross her arms. He handed her back the bow and watched as she mimicked his stance; a smile playing on his lips.

She notched yet another arrow, determination set in her as she clenched her teeth. Swallowing her pride, she took Legolas' advice. The arrow flew through the air and settled right beside Legolas'.

Legolas smirked and clapped his hands. "Very good," he praised and could have sworn she smiled.

He made her do it again and again. Minutes went by and soon hours. The training fields were now filling with novices and warriors who cast curious glances their way. The sun had fully risen and beat down on their backs. Rhaveniel wiped the sweat from her brow and drank her water with greed.

Legolas was satisfied to see her out of breath and sweating. He worked her hard none stop, and this was only the beginning, but now he had to leave to speak with his father. "Agoreg vea. I expect you here tomorrow at sunrise."

Rhavaniel splashed the cool water on her face and glanced at Legolas. "I'll be here," she said simply.

"Good. Tenna' tul're san," Legolas inclined his head and made his way out of the training grounds.

Rhavaniel watched him leave. She sighed and stroked her practice bow. "I'm trying, naneth, I really am," she whispered to the breeze as though it could carry her words to the unknown lands.

~*~*~*~

A pair of guards bowed at seeing the Prince and opened the large stone doors to the throne room. Legolas' brisk footsteps echoed around the large room as he strode to where his father sat casually on his throne.

"Adar," Legolas bowed in respect before continuing. "I have grave news I wish to speak with you of."

Thranduil's hard eyes softened as he searched his son's. He stepped down from his vast throne and poured himself a goblet of wine before turning to Legolas. "Speak, ion nin."

"The orcs numbers are multiplying. We have moved further South, and I have seen it, Adar. I have spoken with Captain Ithreon, and we believe something is manifesting in Dol Guldur."

Thranduil set down his goblet. His brow furrowed, and he paced the floors. He was well aware of the darkness growing in his Forests. Indeed, something foul was at hand. "Tell me more."

"The orcs serve a master. They fight with given orders," Legolas watched his father pace the room, and it made him anxious. It always did.

"Has Ithreon sent scouts further South?" The Elven King ceased his pacing and searched his son's eyes.

"They have perished," Legolas bowed his head in respect to his fallen comrades. "If there is a great evil there we must know. I will go."

Thranduil nodded slowly and looked down at his son. "You will not go alone, ion nin." He moved closer and embraced his son. He couldn't lose Legolas. He was his meaning to his existence. His son was all he had left.

Legolas returned his father's warm embrace. He closed his eyes when his father held his head to his chest and for a moment, he felt at peace.

Translation: Adar: Father. ion in: my son. Tenna tulre san: untill tomorrow then. Agoreg vea: you did well

Naneth: mother

Word count: 1,346