Sleeping Beauty

Author's Note: This is an extra long chapter as an apology for my long absence. I cannot thank you enough for your support, your reviews are the main reason this story will be finished, even if it takes me longer than originally planned. I would like to reply to your reviews individually, so please leave me your e-mail address! Unless there is another way to reply to reviews in this site which I'm not aware of... I would like to give credit for the Myst game reference to Marisa, who was the one that pointed out to me how Alice's dreams reminded her of that game. I would also like to point out that the last part of the chapter which is in italics is not a memory of Legolas, but a flashback of an incident in the past, that's why I used both the POV of Legolas and Alice... or Alysse actually. :-P Oh, and of course I am aware that vanilla flowers would not grow up in a climate like Mirkwood's, but please bear with me. I've done any research possible, but some things need our imagination.

Disclaimer: See Prologue.
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Chapter 8 – How did we meet?

Alice looked at the gloomy weather outside. It had been raining the past few days, unsettling the usually boiling hot midsummer New York. The sound of the phone ringing startled her. She set her cup of steaming coffee on the small table in front of her, realizing with a frown she had become addicted to the caffeine drink, and bent over to grab the still ringing phone.

“Hello?”

Her voice sounded tired and maybe sadder than it should be.

“Alicia!!”

She laughed hearing the nickname Marisa had given her.

“Honestly Marisa, one would think that after six years of knowing me, you would stop calling me that ridiculous name!” Alice half groaned.

“What? It’s not my fault you strike me more like an Alicia than an Alice!” Marisa protested in a joking tone, making sure she pronounced ‘Alicia’ as carefully annoying as ever.

“There’s hardly even any difference between them.”

“Then why do you keep whining?”

Well, she had a point, but Alice would never admit it.

“Whatever,” she mumbled and tried to ignore the taunting laughter of her friend.

“So, what time can you be here?”

“Uh… I don’t think I’m coming today…”
Alice could picture the frown on her friend’s face. Every Sunday, it was custom among her friends to have lunch or dinner at somebody’s house, and that day they would be dining over at Marisa’s. However, Alice was far from being in the mood for such happy gatherings. It would only accentuate her loneliness and need for him more.

“Al, it’s Sunday. You shouldn’t be alone.” Marisa paused for a moment and Alice knew she was contemplating whether she should voice her thoughts or not.

“What is it Marisa?” she asked sighing.

“Jean told me you have not been very well lately…”

Alice groaned and rolled her eyes. Trust Jean to keep a secret, she thought with irritation. That woman just didn’t know what the word ‘discretion’ meant.

“Marisa, I’m perfectly fine. Really. I just have some unfinished chores, because I’ve been working overtime at the office,” she lied and prayed that she wouldn’t insist.

“Oh yeah! I meant to ask you; how’s the myth project going? My mother-in-law told me of your visit.”

Alice grimaced at the mention of the myth and sighed. “Oh, it’s going fine. I think I’m getting somewhere.”

Yeah. In the middle of a labyrinth you will never find the exit for, the ironic voice in her mind commented, accompanying her point with a snort.

“That’s good,” Marisa replied, once again becoming silent. “Are you sure you won’t be coming at all? I mean, Logan is away… I don’t want you to be alone.”

But you are. You have always been, you just didn’t know… the voice in her mind spoke again, this time in a softer tone.

“I’ll be ok Marisa, don’t worry. Thanks for calling,” she answered and heard Marisa sigh from the other end of the line.

“Fine, I give up. But I’ll make sure to cook some extra food, in case you decide to join us.”

“Thanks, hun. Bye.”

“Bye.”

‘Click’.

Alice kept the receiver close to her ear, listening to the tone it made after Marisa had hung up and staring at the empty space in front of her. She felt miserable. She didn’t want to see her friends, or Logan, or anyone
else… But she didn’t want to be by herself either.

She wanted to be with him.

To hear his voice, be enveloped by his warmth and strength, to be kissed by his soft lips…

God, this cannot be happening…

She hugged herself and leaned back on the couch, watching the patches of grey sky sneaking between the massive buildings. How different from the starlit sky of Lothlorien. Or the clear blue horizon, expanding to infinity as she stood at the citadel of Minas Tirith.

Her real life’s sky was a terribly dull grey; matching the monotony and loneliness inside her.

Honestly, she had been content with her life before. Not happy, but content; and it was enough for her. But once you’ve tasted the forbidden fruit and marvelled at its taste, you cannot go back to the ‘innocence’ you owned before. Alice had gained the inevitable sinful knowledge of passion and true happiness, and so thirsted for more. She felt guilty, believing that what she felt was greed. But she was only a human being in need of another one.

Only he was not human.

Neither a ‘being’, seeing that he didn’t exist anywhere but her mind.

Such a mess. Such a never ending chaos for the strictly organized life of the New York reporter. Just when she had thought her life settled out… How could she ever be the same towards Logan after she had met that magical –in more ways than one- being? How could she ever kiss him without bringing in her mind the summer taste of Legolas and the sensations it evoked inside her? At first she was afraid of him and sought to rest her mind in Logan’s presence - his voice at the other end of the line had soothed her jumpy nerves. But as the days –or rather, nights- passed, the elf began occupying her thoughts more than anyone else…

She had willed herself to fight the intense feeling of loneliness that enveloped her, when she woke up that morning and did not find the arms of the elf wrapped around her. She had tried to clear her mind of the painful expression on Legolas’ face the previous night and the desperation in his kiss. She tried to shut off her feelings, to stop caring, but her heart felt as if clutched in an iron grip by worry. She really tried hard to think of Logan’s return and forced herself to miss him… She even tried calling him, but hung up after dialling the first digits of his cell phone number.
What would she say to him, anyway?

Oh, how she would face him when he returned, she didn’t know. How she would hold him, when her mind strayed to the blond prince, she didn’t know either.

All she knew, was that she had fallen in love.

With someone existing only in her dreams.

She hugged her knees close and hid her face in her arms, letting the tears trickle down her cheeks in abandon.

So she wept.

For the beauty of her heart’s first skimming with passion and the impossibility of this passionate love to bloom.

****************************************************************************

She did not start at the hand that ran through her red tresses this time. Her heart never began the wild race that usually accompanied the beginning of her dreams. A contented, lazy smile appeared on her face, as she felt a whisper of a kiss bestowed upon her bare shoulder. She opened her eyes, welcoming the sight of the blond elf before her, whose face was graced with a small smile of his own.

How different from the first time they had met in her dreams! All the fear in her heart had transformed into a warm, fuzzy feeling that spread through her veins and made her ends tingle. Yet the quickening of her heartbeat would never cease while in his presence. She was sure that, no matter how many times they would meet, her pulse would throb rapidly with excitement.

It had never been like this with Logan; or any other man she had met, for that matter.

But he is no man… And he is not real…

Her smile took a sad hue at the thought and Legolas noticed the change of her mood immediately.

“You are troubled,” he stated softly, his forehead creasing in worry.
Alice shook her head managing a small smile and pushed herself up in a sitting position.

“I’ve had a difficult day, that’s all,” she lied, ignoring purposefully the disbelieving look the elf gave her.

She looked around at her surroundings, realizing she had been lying on a couch in front of a fire, burning in the middle of a dark hall decorated with heavy tapestries. It seemed to give off a golden light, as the rays of the sinking sun fell through the high –but narrow- windows and illuminated the wooden furniture. She got up, walking slowly to the throne situated further in the hall, her fingers sliding over the designs on the wood.

Horses.

She turned around and took in the scenes captured in glorious detail on the heavy tapestries hanging from the wall, horses taking once more a prominent place among them. The whole room was an oxymoron: it had a royal but rustic feel to it, nothing like the clear, elegant and sophisticated lines of Gondor. The furniture was rough and wooden, not the smooth marble of the King’s Hall in Minas Tirith.

Alice wringed her mind to remember the name of the place… Legolas had told her of a battle in a place were horses were treasured and the people of the land were called ‘horse masters’…

“Rohan!” She finally remembered, turning around once more to look at Legolas who was nodding.

“We are in Edoras, in the Golden Hall,” he confirmed and smiled. “I see that you have paid attention to everything I have told you about the history of Middle Earth.”

“I find it fascinating… So many cultures, so much unknown history!”

The light in her eyes appeared again. Like it did when he recounted tales for her ears and only, every time they met in Lake Town; so eager she was to learn of the world. He gracefully got up and extended his hand, Alice walking towards him and shyly intertwining her fingers with his. His presence overwhelmed her once more and she couldn’t help but blush like an infatuated teenager. A simple smile or touch coming from him could make her senses reel. The slight caressing of her hand with his thumb at that moment created a swarm of butterflies in her stomach, which tickled her sensitive nerves and made her a little light-headed. She silently wished for him to hold her again; to kiss her like he had in her previous dream. But she quickly reproached herself for letting the situation take hold of her senses. Such thoughts, she decided, were forbidden; their realization would only leave her longing for more, come the morning.

They reached the exit of the Golden Hall and walked to stand at the end of the great stairs of Meduseld. Alice looked down at the rustic, wooden houses built on the hill, a building standing out among them due to its size and glory.

“What is that building over there?” Alice asked, pointing towards the impressive structure.

Legolas leaned closer to her, his cheek almost touching hers, supposedly in order to see better from her standing spot to where she was pointing. It was needless, of course, since Legolas knew exactly which building she talked about; but his need to be near her and breathe in her scent of vanilla flowers was irresistible.

“’Tis the stables,” he answered in his velvety voice, a shiver running through Alice as she felt his breath brushing over her cheek. “The people of Rohan held great respect for their horses.”

Alice turned to look at him, finding herself inches apart from his face. Their gazes locked, both desiring to repeat the actions of the previous time they had met, but both holding back with an iron will. Legolas stopped himself at the last moment, as he began leaning towards her; he did not want to lose that precious small piece of trust he had earned and scare her away once more. Seeing Legolas withdraw, Alice was brought abruptly out of her spell; how easily was her resolution swayed at the mere closeness of him! She had decided against such intimate actions, even though they replayed over and over in her mind, making her long for more. But they were wrong. This whole thing was wrong.

The strong wind that seemed to live permanently among the Rohirrim in Edoras swept her fiery waves like the banners above them, making her hair move in a wild dance around her face. She didn’t bother moving it away from her face, but kept looking at the distance, deep in thought. Legolas frowned. She was more quiet than usual. Too quiet actually. Something was bothering her, but he knew his wife well: she would not speak until she decided to.

She finally took a step forward and started descending the many stairs of Meduseld in a fast pace. She could feel the tension in every fiber of her being. The feelings were there; strong, painful and very evident. But the memories were not. She knew the elf beside her, yet she didn’t. She felt that special connection with him, but could not explain it. She could not recall how it had been formed. She could not recall anything about them. Yet this nagging feeling of familiarity was moving around her mind in circles, sticking its tongue out to Alice for her inability to remember.

And it frustrated the hell out of her.

She finally walked down the last step and started wandering between the alleys of the small town. Actually, it looked more like a village to her, herself coming from a thickly populated city. It seemed almost haunted. The eerie silence that enveloped every place they had visited in her dreams, was always a little unnerving. There was not a single soul around them; it would always be the two of them wandering in totally empty places. It reminded her a little of those Myst computer games she used to play as a teenager; only the places here felt much more real. The wood of the houses was weathered. The roads were much trodden. And the water was intact in the waterers. She almost expected to turn around the corner and find people tending to their horses or doing their everyday chores, but there was no living soul anywhere.
She saw his reflection on the water and couldn’t help but smile sadly. He was standing behind her, a worried look upon his face. He knew she was troubled, but waited patiently for her to talk. How well does he know me! It was amazing. Every time they met, she was more and more convinced of the truth in his words. Yet how to believe him, when he himself was not real?

“How is it possible that we can meet in dreams?”

She turned to look at him after uttering her question, her head leaning to the side as she took in his features. She tried once more to find a flaw on him, but it was like trying to find angles on a ball: impossible.

“It is a privilege of our race. We can visit mortals in dreams or visions. However, we two are also bound in marriage: our souls call to one another,” he replied, keeping his eyes locked with her pale green ones. “These places come alive before your eyes as they were engraved in my memory. ‘Tis not real places you’re visiting, Alysse; only memories.”

Alice stood silent for a moment, trying to register all the information in her mind. It made perfect sense; that was why there was no other living soul but the two of them. She gave no answer and started drawing patterns on the dirt beneath her with her foot, her eyes following its movement absentmindedly.

“But this is not the reason you are troubled, Alysse.”

She looked up at him again, seeing the concern in his eyes. She was in such a terrible mood that day. It had been a terrible feeling waking up alone with the rain outside, when she should be buried in his arms…

He gently pushed her chin up forcing her to stop avoiding his gaze, but was startled to see the tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. One of them escaped, slowly trickling on her cheek, but his thumb stopped its course as he gently wiped it away.

“My love…-“

“Please, Legolas, don’t make things more difficult than they already are,” she said in a whisper, as she placed her finger on his lips to stop all the questions ready to be asked. She stepped back, her hand falling to her side.
His lips tingled where she had touched them, but he fought the urge to brush his own across her rosy ones. Instead, he did as he was told and entwined his arm with hers to start one of their usual walks through the representative cities of Middle Earth. He didn’t stop glancing her way now and then though, frowning upon seeing her eyebrows drawn in deep thought. He almost jumped when she spoke again.

“Tell me, Legolas… How did we meet?”

The elf’s face broke in a grin.
--
The elven Prince was sitting under an old sycamore at the west shore of the Lake, a little further from the town built upon it, caressing its bark absentmindedly and letting the tree tell him its secrets. He was about to return home from one of the many missions his father, King Thranduil of Mirkwood, often assigned to him. This one was different from his usual patrolling in the dark woods of his home’s forest and one he did not particularly enjoy. But his father seemed to have assigned this trading negotiating mission on purpose: it was time for his son to learn the responsibilities of the throne. He thanked the Valar that the people of Laketown held respect and fear for the Elvenking, so they had not given him a hard time. But the awed stares and pointing of the humans had started making him feel uncomfortable. At least, he had not run into any Dwarves. Now, THAT would have been most uncomfortable!

He was savoring the view of the town and the lake for a last time, enjoying the first rays of light that timidly appeared in the dark sky. Just as he was about to mount his horse, he heard the soft treading of footsteps on the green grass. He remained silent as he watched a young woman make her way hurriedly to the lake and fill a few flasks with water. So hurried was she, that she had not even noticed him!

Legolas however, had been intrigued by the livid red of her hair; it stood out so evidently against her plain brown dress, that it would seem impossible not to be fascinated by the color. Being in an excellent mood, he decided to approach the young woman and talk to her. He was genuinely curious about the reason she would be in such a hurry so early in the morning; the sun had just began to make its appearance over the horizon. But most of all, he wished to see if the blushing face of the young human would rival the redness of her locks… human females seemed to turn red merely by being in the same room with him!

He silently got up and walked in loud steps, trying to make the woman aware of his presence. Her head instantly snapped towards him and her movements froze. ‘So many years being neighbors, yet the people of Laketown are still bewildered in our presence!’ Legolas thought with amusement. A pair of pale green eyes took in his appearance in awe, the girl’s lips parting slowly. He could not help but notice the scattered freckles on her small nose, which gave her an innocent look; she was an adorable child.

“Good morrow, fair lady. The day is still young, yet you are in such a great hurry, that I cannot help but wonder whether there is a foul beast chasing after you! In which case, I am more than willing to offer my services,” Legolas said in a velvety voice, adding a small bow.

The woman looked at him with an unreadable gaze for a few moments, then blinked, gathering the flasks and rising to her feet. Taking a few steps back from the elf, she put a stray strand of hair behind her ear in a manner that spoke of her embarrassment and forced a smile.

“Good morrow, my lord. You seem to forget that humans do not have as much time in their hands as the elves do. I bid you a good day,” she replied in a formal manner, then gathering her skirts, she began walking in a hurried pace towards the west.

‘Such a sharp tongue!’ Legolas thought with amusement. ‘Her hair must have been colored by the fire in her heart!’

“Ah, you are heading towards the west! Such a coincidence, that is my road as well! Mayhap you could grace me with your company?”

Alysse rolled her eyes when she heard the summoning whistle of the elf behind her and the hoof beats of his horse as it run towards him, despite the wild beating of her heart. She was not foolish enough to believe his flattery, but neither so immune to his charm. She had come across many wood elves in her lifetime, but only polite smiles and a few formal greetings were exchanged with her. Yet, none of them had made her heart want to leap out of her chest… for none had been so fair of face and voice, like the one walking next to her at the moment.

“My lord, I am in a great hurry and you would only hinder my journey,” she told him in a stiff manner, avoiding looking into those blue eyes again, lest she lost all her senses.

“I assure you, my horse is very fast. I am certain he will be able to keep up with you,” the elf replied in an amused voice and she bit her lip to keep from laughing. Whoever knew that those so aloof immortal beings actually had a sense of humor!

“Surely, your lordship can find better company than one such as myself.”

Alysse tried to dissuade him from accompanying her once more; she would not be able to do her job with the overpowering presence of the elf next to her. He was a warrior; he could tell by the bow and the knives strapped on his back, along with a quiver full of arrows. His garb was in colors of brown and green, the velvet material of his cloak hiding most of it. She dared another look at his face; her breath caught in her lungs. He must have been the elf all the women spoke of in the town: a representative of the Elvenking, sent to negotiate the deals of wine trade.

“What better company than the daughter of fire itself! I can already feel the heat of the flames in your hair,” he said in a low voice, waiting to see the effect his words would have on her face.

It was a rosy tint that graced her pale cheeks instead of the bright red he expected, and made her pale green eyes stand out in all their excellence. Legolas could not keep the small, amused smile at the embarrassment of the girl, but decided not to torture her further. Humans and their reactions were so fascinating to him!

“You spoke of a journey. Yet, I see no other companions and a lovely lady such as yourself should not travel alone.”

Alysse turned to look at the gravity that had suddenly took hold of the features on his face, realizing he did not mean to tease her this time.

“I make this journey many times every summer and have not yet had any reason to fear doing so by myself,” she said and rearranged the flasks in her hand, startled to feel the bag on her shoulders lifted from her. She turned in confusion to see that the elf was securing her bag on his saddle, but was more surprised when his hand enveloped her own, prying out of her grip the three flasks. She snatched her hand away, as if burned by fire, and tried to slow the wild beating of her heart. Valar, she would not come back alive from this journey!

Legolas tied the flasks on the saddle of his horse, confused at why her touch had affected him so. He was brought abruptly out of his thoughts, when the girl beside him cleared her throat.

“My lord,” she began uneasily, “I am quite capable of making this journey myself, I assure you. ‘Tis not that far, anyway.”

“Then why are you in such a hurry?”

“My father has a spice store and I have to gather the vanilla beans from the flowers before they close,” Alysse replied, although a little reluctant to give so much information to a complete stranger, even though the elf did not seem willing to harm her; if anything, he had been too protective of her.

“Ah, so we are taking the same road!” Legolas exclaimed, for some unknown reason feeling extreme pleasure at knowing they would travel together. The vanilla flowers grew on the outskirts of the forest near his father’s palace, in the humidity caused by the Forest River in the middle of summer. He was very font of their scent; and was now able to understand why the young human girl smelled like a garden full of those flowers.

The girl was looking mortified at him and he raised his eyebrows. Was she so afraid of him? But the lovely rosy color that painted her cheeks implied it was quite the opposite. So Legolas let out a hearty laugh which made Alysse blink at the beauty of its sound.

“Would you do me the honor of gracing me with your name, fair lady?”

After so many centuries in the court of his father, Legolas had mastered the art of eloquent speech to a level of perfection; and had more than once marveled at the effect it had on the ladies.

“My name is Alysse, my lord,” the girl replied, giving an awkward curtsy, while trying to keep up her fast pace.

“Alysse…” Legolas repeated. “A beautiful name. I am Legolas,” he told her, ever so slightly inclining his head and giving the young woman a smile. “I am afraid you will not make it in time,” he said after a few minutes of silence, looking up at the sun finally appearing over the mountains in the distance.

Alysse turned to him with a worried look on her face.

“You believe so? Oh, I shouldn’t have overslept!” she exclaimed sighing in annoyance. “I have to run then!”

“Run?” Legolas raised an eyebrow at that. “All the way to the forest?”

“I have no other choice!” she called back at him, as she set off towards the forest.

Legolas let out a chuckle, watching the young woman gather her skirts in her hands and running over the fields of Esgaroth, her fiery hair flying behind her. She was an enchanting sight. And Legolas always marveled at the freshness in the mortals’ souls. He had ever found them to be wonderful company.

Alysse kept running, ignoring her laboured breathing, which would eventually make her slow down. For the moment, she enjoyed the wind caressing her face and the freedom she felt as she watched the ground move quickly beneath her. She fleetingly wondered if the elf was following after her, when she heard the sound of hoof beats behind her. She yelped as a strong arm wrapped around her waist, bringing her on the horse’s back and safely seated in front of its owner.

Alysse turned to look wide-eyed at the elf, trying to catch her breath both from running and for suddenly finding herself in the elf’s lap.

“Have you lost your mind??” turning around to look at Legolas, adding a quick “my lord” as she regained her manners.

“Is it not more comfortable like this?” he asked with a smile, feigning total innocence. “We will fly along with the wind and reach the forest before you realize it!”

“But.. but… my lord!” she began, as she tried to distance herself from the elf’s arms. It was impossible, however, since the grip in her waist tightened; and it very rightly did so, or she would have fallen off the elf lord’s horse. “I cannot ride with you!”

“Why not?” he asked, an eyebrow rising in amusement.

“’Tis not proper!” she exclaimed in utter horror. Didn’t the elf care about the whispers that would spread through the town if anyone saw them??

“’Tis surely more improper to let a Lady run all the way to the forest by herself,” he replied in a calm manner, the side of his mouth suddenly curving upwards in a devilish manner. “Besides, nothing would be more enjoyable than having such a beautiful lady in my arms.”

His smile erupted into a childish grin as Alysse’s cheeks acquired the rosy hue that complimented her eyes so much, but he decided to take pity on the poor mortal girl, seeing the embarrassment written clearly in her features. Maybe she wasn’t comfortable with flirting? But how could that be so, with one as lovely as herself? Deciding that it was of no importance, he engaged Alysse in a friendly chat as his horse galloped towards his home.

Legolas had to laugh at the spirit of the young woman; it was not often that he found a sense of adventure in a female. She was so eager to know about the world, asking one question after another when she was finally over her initial shyness. Unfortunately, Legolas could only reply with whatever knowledge he had from studying books, having not travelled far from his homeland either. But it seemed enough for the young mortal, whose cheeks flushed with excitement, her eyes shining under the steadily rising sun.

Alysse took a breath of relief when the edge of the forest came within sight; another minute in the arms of the elf and she was sure to lose her sanity once and for all! She felt oddly relaxed during their ride, as she leaned against him, his arms holding her securely around her waist, his scent invading her already foggy mind with its sweetness; men in Lake Town never smelled so good and clean. Could the rumours secretly whispered in front of the fireplace, that the elves were magical beings and put mortals under their spell, be true? Had the elf put her under his spell and her heart felt like a bird flapping its wings rapidly in the cage of her chest?

The horse slowed down at the softly whispered command of its master, as they approached the first line of trees. Soon enough, they were under the protective arms of the forest, the vanilla scent of the flowers, which were wrapped around the trees in vines, wafting up to meet them. Legolas stopped the horse and looked around him, before gracefully hopping off. Alysse’s pulse quickened as he reached up to her waist and brought her down slowly in front of him. Both stilled for a few seconds wondering at the unexplained effect their proximity produced; hearts beating in unison, they stared at each other as if noticing one another for the first time.

Legolas was the first one to move away, taking a deep breath and looking around him as he tried to gather his thoughts. He was far from an elfling; and certainly not a stranger to the ways of the heart. At least, that was what he thought at that moment. He approached the tree and ran his fingers gently over the petals of the flowers.

“The ones at the bottom have already closed; the sun cannot reach them anymore. But the ones higher up are still open,” he commented looking up at the open flowers.

Alysse finally tore her eyes from staring at his from and spoke: “I will have to climb, then. I’m glad there are still enough of them open,” she said in a thankful tone. “I owe you much, my lord.”

Legolas turned to look at her with a smile.

“You owe me nothing. Your company has more than repaid me.” Alysse graced him with a smile of her own, as he untied her bag from his saddle. “So… should we begin?”

“We?” Alysse asked confused.

“Why, you cannot reach the flowers on your own!”

Alysse felt like the ground was opening beneath her feet. She would never be able to finish her job in time, not with the elf’s eyes distracting her like this!

“My lord, you have already done enough…” she began but was cut off when the elf hung her bag up on a branch of the nearby tree and proceeded to carefully climb up without bothering the vines and the flowers wrapped around it.

“I am going to get the beans from the flowers at the top and you can start from the ones you can reach.”

She watched amazed at the ease with which the elf reached the higher branches of the trees, her mouth wide open in shock from the way he had twice ignored her protestations, as if she was not there. Were all elves so cocky? She shut her wide open mouth and holding her nose high she walked over to the tree and started collecting the black beans. She smiled as the scent of the flowers began to cling to her skin and she started humming softly to herself, without realizing the elf heard from above as clearly as if he was right next to her.

Legolas smiled as he watched the young woman work. It had been a long time since he had felt so carefree. An encounter with mortals was always rejuvenating for the souls of the elves, but this mortal in particular was even more fun to tease than Estel, the other human he had spent time in the company of. He silently hopped from the tree, empting the beans he had gathered in the bag and proceeded to climb another one to collect more.
Both worked in silence for a while, save for the low humming of Alysse now and then. It was already afternoon and most of the flowers had closed, but they had managed to get the bag full. Seeing Alysse on tiptoes trying to reach the last flower, he came behind her and took the beans himself. She turned around startled at his presence so close to her, finding herself in his arms.

Alysse felt her cheeks burning once more, as the elf dropped the fruits in her bag without looking away from her eyes. Oh, old Mara had warned her to be careful and not fall victim to their spells! But there she was, unable to look away from his blue depths, her heart thundering against her chest, while the elf slowly leaned his palms against the tree bark, trapping her in his embrace. A soft smile suddenly appeared on his face, at which Alysse replied with a confused look.

“...What?” she blurted without thinking, feeling unnerved by his weird behavior all of sudden.

“You have lovely freckles,” he replied in a low voice, his lips parting in a grin at the gasp escaping the girl.

“You… you…”

Alysse could not even find the words to express her rage! She shoved the elf away from her and started gathering her bag and flasks in abrupt movements. How rude of him to comment on her freckles! She knew they were funny, but he didn’t have to make a fool of her!

Legolas laughed at the reaction of the mortal girl. She probably didn’t think very highly of her freckles. But he was being honest! He went after her, ready to offer his apology and explain himself, when she suddenly turned around and threw a flask at him aiming for his head. His elven reflexes allowed him to catch it easily and duck to avoid another one. He fixed a stern look at her and dropped the flasks in his hands.

“I did not mean to offend you, my lady, I was speaking the truth,” he told her in a calm manner, afraid to evoke her wrath even more.

“One would think the elves being more honest! Everybody makes fun of my freckles, why would you not?”

She kept walking towards the edge of the forest and did not turn to look at Legolas even when she spoke to him. But, in her unreasonable fury, she slipped over a protruding rock and would have fallen on her back, if Legolas had not caught her smoothly and kept her on her feet. It took her a moment to open her eyes, her cheeks burning brightly in humiliation, but she did not find the amused face she expected, when she finally did. The elf’s concerned gaze swept over her face, trying to find any signs of anger; but her features had acquired a look of vulnerability, as she waited for a confirmation that he had indeed complimented her. And that he gave her.

“I am being honest,” he said emphasizing his words with the low tone of his voice. “I find you very beautiful and not many women can claim to have received such a compliment from me.”

Was it the humid air that made him suddenly feel an intense heat run through his body? Was it the heavy scent of the vanilla flowers that had hypnotized him and made him feel dizzy? Or was it the young woman in his arms with fire for hair and the palest emeralds of his father’s treasure for eyes?
Back then, he couldn’t tell. He only leaned forward and captured the lips of the mortal girl in a soft kiss, throwing all caution to the wind.

However, what he did not expect when he pulled away and opened his eyes, was the stinging sensation on his cheek and the angry glare of Alysse.

“You have some nerve!” she said, as she got up and gathering her belongings she began running out of the forest.

Legolas made no move to follow her as he stood still in shock. Had she bewitched him so much that he had lost all control of his senses? How had he missed her movement to strike him? That insolent child had actually slapped the Prince of Mirkwood! And what was that burning feeling in his stomach that made him want to scream with rage?

The elf's eyes widened in realization:

By the Valar, a woman had actually refused him!
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