I'm hoping my Elvish is correct, but if not, sorry.

I own nothing.

Thror, King Under The Mountain of the greatest Dwarven kingdom of Erebor, the mightiest and richest of all the Dwarf kingdoms in Middle Earth sat regally upon his throne as wave after wave of dignitaries stepped forth to pay tribute to him and his kin.

Nearly a month ago a great treasure had been found deep in the mines. Something the world had never seen before nor was ever likely to again. A great gem, white at first appearance but upon closer inspection it was as if tiny galaxies swirled within the stone. As soon as the gem was found it was brought before The King and Royal Family.

Thror declared it "The King's Jewel", deeming it a sign that his line was ordained to rule by Divine right. He even had a new throne carved that the jewel may forever reside above the ruler's head. But it soon became known as The Arkenstone; Heart of the Mountain.

News of the gem had spread quickly and soon kingdom's far and wide had flocked to see the stone and pay homage to The Line of Durin. And so, the dwarves had declared a celebration to be held that all may see the stone and share in the splendor of their find. On Thror's left stood his son Thrain, Crown Prince while on his right stood his beloved grandson Thorin. Those who wished to pledge allegiance to the King would pay it to his entire line, present and future kings.

As the group of Men from the city of Dale made their exit from The King's Hall, The Elves of Mirkwood strode forth gracefully. At the head of the convoy stood King Thranduil, clothed in silver robes, his long pale blond hair fell about his shoulders regally. Upon his head sat a large crown crafted to look like branches with leaves adorning it, his face was calm, contemplative and sincere, yet he carried a natural air of authority about him few could ever manage.

"Welcome Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm. You honor my halls with your presence." Thror greeted.

"Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn." The Elven King inclined his head. "You are generous with your hospitality King Thror." Turning slightly he raised a hand motioning to a member of his group. Stepping forth a young Elleth gave a shy smile to the dwarves upon the dais. "May I present my niece, Lithôniel, daughter of my late sister, Solorfainiel, Princess of Mirkwood."

"Welcome Princess, may your stay here be a joyous one."

"Guren glassui" Lithôniel replied dipping a graceful bow, her eyes remaining upon the stone floor. "You honor me."

Letting out a chuckle Thror said, "I believe it is you who honor me. I hope you do not feel insulted when I tell you your niece is a rare beauty Thranduil. Don't you think so Thorin?"

Letting her eyes flick up Lithôniel nearly gaped at the dwarf on the right of the King. His dark hair was long and held a few braids like all those of his race, but his beard was short and neatly trimmed much like the Men she had seen about the mountain this morning. Many of her race thought Dwarves ugly and unkempt, and though she had never seen the mountain folk before, this Prince did not fit the mold she had been told of.

His stature was broad like all dwarves but he was tall, nearly to her shoulder if she gauged his height correctly. And even at a distance she could tell his eyes were deep blue, like the sapphire gems his kin held so dear.

After slowly letting his gaze rove over every inch of her Thorin replied, "She is indeed beautiful grandfather, much like a ruby in a gold setting."

Blushing slightly Lithôniel tried to banish the bloom, attempting to deem his flattery as politeness. But the continued gaze he sent did nothing to help it.

"I hope you shall be staying for the entirety of the celebrations." Thror spoke up looking to The Elven King. "It has been far too long since Elves have graced these halls with their presence and music."

Inclining his head once more Thranduil replied, "We shall remain as long as your hospitality allows."

"Splendid! Splendid. My servants shall see you and your party settled and refreshed from the road. Then tonight, we feast." Thror smiled.

Bowing the Elves made their exit as a large procession of Dwarves from the Iron Hills made their way into the room to pay their own respects.

"Shall I unpack your things my lady?" Verya, Lithôniel's attendant asked as the Princess' trunks were placed about the room she would be staying.

"Hmmm?" She replied absentmindedly. The young Elleth was currently standing out upon the balcony that was attached to the room. Apparently many of the Elves had been placed in such chambers in hopes they would not feel too trapped or claustrophobic during their stay.

Smiling the serving elf came out onto the balcony as well, "You have become homesick already?"

"No." Lithôniel shook her head tearing her eyes from the great forest in the distance. "I was merely contemplating the vast differences between our people and the dwarves."

"They are a strange race are they not? Imagine, living in this rock prison."

Looking about at the ornately carved stone about the room the Princess shook her head. "It may be different then what we are used to, but this is their home, and we would do well to respect it."

Casting her eyes down, Verya bobbed quickly apologizing, "Of course my lady. Would you like to rest or bathe before dinner?"

"I'm far too excited to sleep. I would change out of these traveling cloths though."

Nodding Verya stepped forward to help her mistress from her green traveling dress. After she was dressed in a sapphire blue gown, Lithôniel sat before the large mirror as her long dark reddish brown hair was brushed out and left loose to cascade down her back. Exiting the bedroom she made her way from the sitting room to the hall outside.

Looking left, she knew the stairs further down the passage would lead back down to the King's Hall but to the right, there was the unknown. Turning right she made her way down the hallway eyes taking in everything there was to see. While wondering though Lithôniel became lost, for though Elves had excellent senses of direction, being underground in an unfamiliar place caused her to become disoriented.

Turning down a passageway she looked for something familiar, but the stone all appeared the same to her. Hearing running feet and laughter she turned and was nearly run into by two Dwarflings rushing past.

"Hurry, he'll catch us!" The elder blond child called.

"Wait for me!" The younger dark haired one cried falling slightly behind.

"BOYS!" A voice shouted.

Spotting Lithôniel the Dwarflings pled, "Hide us."

Drawing the children to her she hid them behind her, hearing heavier footsteps as another approached. Billowing out her skirts she hoped to hide them better.

"Fili! Kili!" The deep voice called once more, as the figure came into view, Lithôniel was surprised to see Thorin, slightly out of breath running down the hall. Upon seeing her he stopped short saying, "My Lady Lithôniel, my apologies for shouting."

"Your quarry must be fearsome indeed Prince Thorin." She smiled.

"Actually I am searching for my nephews. You haven't seen them have you?"

"I-"

Lithôniel was about to deny seeing the Dwarflings when laughter broke forth from behind her. Stretching his neck Thorin attempted to look behind the Elf to the hiding children. Clasping her hands together Lithôniel pressed her lips together to keep from laughing but a smile still broke through.

"I know you are there. You might as well come out." Thorin smirked.

Cautiously the Dwarflings came out from behind the Elf, though they kept her skirts in their tiny fists.

"We're sorry Uncle." The blond apologized, booted foot toeing the stone floor.

"Fili, you're mother is worried sick. What kind of example are you setting for Kili?"

"We just wanted to have some fun." Kili pouted.

"Oh thank Aulë, Thorin you found them." A Dwarf woman sighed coming into view.

The newcomer shared a striking resemblance to Thorin, same hair and eyes. Their jaws were the same shape and even their manner of walking was similar. She was dressed in dark blue with many pieces of jewelry adorning her neck, ears and fingers. Even the beads in her hair were of precious stones and metals. Though the most striking feature Lithôniel noticed was the strip of hair that ran along the Dwarf woman's jaw.

"Princess Lithôniel allow me to introduce my sister Princess Dis." Thorin presented.

"I am honored to meet you Princess." The Elf bowed.

"You may call me Dis. I rarely feel like a Princess anymore chasing after these two." She glared at her sons, hands on her hips. "Why did you run off this time?"

"Gwyra tried to make us take a nap a whole hour earlier. We tried telling her Eladda would let us keep playing but she wouldn't listen." Fili defended.

Sighing Thorin said, "Eladda is not your nurse anymore, she is far too old to always be running after you. You must listen to Gwyra."

"But she's no fun." Kili pouted.

Stepping forward Lithôniel asked, "If I may?" Receiving a nod from the grown-ups, she knelt down so she was eye level with the Dwarflings. "Your Uncle is right boys, you should listen to your nurse, though I'm sure you miss your old one. And I do not doubt she misses you as well. Perhaps if you are well behaved a visit may be planned?"

Looking up hopefully Fili asked, "Can we Maamr? Can we really?"

Giving her sons a sharp look she answered, "If Eladda is up for it. And it would be as the Princess says, only if you behave."

"We will." The brothers replied together smiling happily.

"Come along then, you will take your nap, then it will be supper then if you are good you may attend the celebrations for a time before bed." Dis instructed. "Say goodbye to the Princess."

"You may all call me Lithôniel." She smiled rising and smiling at the small family.

Nodding Dis took the boys by the hands and led them around a corner and out of sight.

"Did you wish to speak with my Grandfather? Or were you looking for something?" Thorin asked.

Blushing slightly Lithôniel replied, "No I wished to explore your kingdom but became lost within the caverns."

Letting out a small chuckle he offered, "Allow me to show you around then."

"I do not mean to impose..."

"It would be my honor." Thorin smiled at her.

Shyly smiling back Lithôniel nodded at his generosity. Holding out a hand Thorin directed her to their left, opposite the way his sister and nephews had gone.

"What would you like to see first?" He asked as they continued to walk.

Stopping the Elf thought for a moment before saying, "I hear you have a mountain top look out, where one can see for miles and miles. I would very much like to see it."

"Does being within the mountain disturb you already?" Thorin asked concerned.

"Not at all." She assured. "It is merely, I have never been outside of Mirkwood except to visit kin within Imladris. I find the world much bigger then I had imagined and I wish to see much of it."

Smiling Thorin replied, "Then I shall show you as much of Erobor as your stay allows."

Once the pair had reached the top of a long winding staircase a great opening in the mountain gave way to a giant terrace carved from the stone on the cliff face. Stepping out into the fresh air Lithôniel took in a deep breath as she walked towards the edge of the railing.

"The stories were true." She breathed looking out over the landscape. The day had become overcast hand slightly foggy. Mist hung about the landscape like a thin sheet and the world seemed hushed and still. But to Lithôniel it was one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen.

"I fear the weather has turned on us. You should gaze upon it in Spring. Or even Summer. The hills are covered in wildflowers as far as the eye can see."

"It is magnificent as it is now. You may find me strange but I prefer Iavas, the time of harvest. The color of the leaves changing, the smells and scents of apples, spices, and of new fallen leaves." She smiled dreamily.

"Autumn is my favorite season as well. It is also at the end of the season we celebrate Durin's Day. There is much feasting and merry making to be had."

"It sounds much like Turuhalmë, though we celebrate it in mid-winter. In the morning great sleighs go out into the woods to collect firewood and the songs and drinking of Turuhalmë occurs while all listen to old tales beside the fire created from this gathered wood. Never is the Tale-fire allowed to go out or to die into grey ash, but on the eve of Turuhalmë it sinks always to a smaller blaze until Turuhalmë itself, when great logs were brought into the Room of the Tale-fire and being blessed by Lindo with ancient magic it roars and flares anew upon the hearth. Turuhalmë is celebrated in the morning, followed in the evening by a festival called Durufui where more feasting and celebration takes place." She told him. Then looking out at the landscape once more she said, "Tell me about everything we can see from here."

Coming to stand beside her Thorin pointed out, "There lies the city of Dale, trading center of the north. Our wealth has spilled over and made their town grand and strong." Then pointing in the other direction he said, "And there lays-"

"Mirkwood." The elf smiled fondly. "Though seeing it from this distance makes it seem much less like home."

"You have truly never been outside The Greenwood?"

Shaking her head she answered, "My Tôrana deemed me too young to travel beyond the visiting of family. Though once The Arkenstone was discovered, I was able to convince him I was now of age and that a diplomatic visit was the ideal time for me to experience the world beyond our home. I confess I did not come to Erobor so much to see the gem as I did to see the mountain itself and her people."

"My Grandfather sees the jewel as a sign we are favored above all Durin's folk."

"It is a wonder." The Elf conceded. "Many a song and poem will try to capture it's magnificence. I doubt few, even ones composed by my kind, shall be able to capture it's beauty."

For a time they stood in companionable silence taking in the scenery, but then Thorin asked, "How do you find Erobor? What you have so far seen."

"It has a grand splendor I confess I did not expect. I knew your people's wealth was beyond compare, but from what I had heard about dwarves living in mountains, underground, I thought it would be dark, and cold. With water forming upon the walls and a dank smell to permeate the halls. But it is none of those things. Your people create beauty from simple raw material and craft it into works of splendor."

"I believe you may be the first Elf to ever say such things about Dwarven halls." Thorin laughed, stepping closer. Wrinkling his brow he commented, "Your eyes, they are a truly remarkable color. At first I thought them blue or green, but now I see they are purple, like amethyst."

Smiling Lithôniel replied, "A gift, from my Ada along with the coloring of my hair. His kin hale from Imladris, though the colors are rare among them as well. My mother and King Thranduil were twins, nearly identical." Though her voice was steady, his nearness caused her a slight not unpleasant unease.

"There are so many differences between our races, I wish to know more but do not want to appear rude."

Smiling Lithôniel assured, "You may ask what you wish."

"I hear that Elves love only once, and so deeply and wholly that it is possible to die of a broken heart."

At that the Elf's face fell. Turning away she stepped from Thorin, arms wrapped around herself. Softly she answered, "It is entirely possible. It happened to my Naneth. My Ada was killed in an orc attack and she could not escape the sorrow."

Shocked, Thorin gaped at her. Placing a tentative hand on his shoulder he whispered. "Forgive me Lithôniel. Had I known, I would have never asked. May Audi strike me down for my carelessness."

"No." The Elf plead turning to face him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You did not know. And there is no shame in the asking of questions that spark curiosity."

"I cannot imagine growing up in a tree. It is as difficult as living in a mountain is to you I am certain." Thorin tried to steer the conversation to lighter subjects.

"Have you never been to Mirkwood Thorin?" She asked looking him in the eye. When he shook his head Lithôniel explained, "While much of the palace is indeed crafted from live trees, there are caverns and stone structures."

"Forgive my assumptions. I meant no offense." Thorin apologized.

Smiling slightly she shook her head, "There is nothing to apologize for. I confess I myself had many assumptions before my arrival. Along with your home, I had heard Dwarven men were brutish and crass, and the women nearly as ill tempered and mannered. I was also told that Dwarf women have great tangled beards much like their men. But I have found all such tales ring false."

Chuckling Thorin replied, "I am sure it was a slight shock to see a Dwarf woman the first time. Or even a Dwarven man."

"A curiosity describes it better. I had never seen hair upon one's face before. I was nearly tempted to pull upon a few to ensure they were indeed real." Lithôniel admitted smiling sheepishly.

"It is a good thing you did not. Such an act is demeaning to my kind." He told her, letting out a full bellied laugh.

Eyes going wide she apologized, "I did not know, I am glad I restrained myself then. It was just so strange, I could not imagine an Elven man with a beard. Let alone a woman." She explained, turning to look back at Mirkwood.

Eyes softening at her back Thorin replied, "That is a sight I long to see, perhaps your Uncle would agree to allow us to fit him with one." He joked.

"I do not know." Lithôniel replied, then turning to face him she held up a lock of her hair to above her lip saying, "Do not Elleths make prettier sights then Elvish men?"

Staring at her a long moment wide eyed Thorin said nothing, then gently removing the lock of hair from her hand he placed it behind her ear where it belonged.

"You are beautiful without it My Lady." He assured in a hushed voice.

Blushing again she let her eyes fall to the floor, Thorin shifted as if he would take her chin in his hand to make her look at him once more, but thought better of it and instead remarked, "It is getting late, the feast is likely to start in less then two hours. Perhaps we should return, do you plan on changing before dinner?"

Nodding Lithôniel followed him back down the stairs, taking in all that had passed between them in such a short while.

"Your gown is ready Hiril vuin." Verya told her mistress laying out a silver and cream colored dress.

"Ni lassui." Lithôniel muttered as the serving elf helped her out of the blue dress she was wearing. The color of royalty in Mirkwood was silver, while the Dwarven color was blue. While she resided in Mirkwood she wore greens and greys of her kin, but she preferred her time in Rivendell if only for the multitude of colors she was able to wear.

Smoothing out the shimmering fabric the Princess sat before the mirror once more as Verya began to braid her hair in a partial up-do with tiny braids running throughout, the rest of her wavy hair falling in soft loose curls. Tiny white flowers decorated her locks like pearls.

Once she deemed her appearance suitable Lithôniel made her way towards the exit, becoming surprised when she found Thorin standing outside her door.

"My lady." Thorin inclined his head, eyes taking in everything about her from her hair to the hem of her gown.

Smiling despite her confusion she replied, "You may call me Lithôniel, as I have said."

"Of course. Lithôniel, my grandfather has decided to...take you under his wing, as it were, tonight at the feast. I have been asked to escort you to The Great Hall, where you shall seat as a guest of honor."

"Your grandfather is far too generous." The Elf smiled. Looking past Thorin though she said, "I would of course need to ask my Uncle, if I have his permission."

"Such an honor can not be ignored." Thranduil from behind the Dwarf nodded having come to collect her for dinner himself, The Mirkwood King gave a long look to Thorin before turning to his niece. "I hope you shall uphold the dignity of your people."

"I shall do my best." Lithôniel smiled bowing to her uncle before looping her arm through the Dwarf Prince's.

Once they reached The Great Hall Thorin lead Lithôniel towards the head of the giant table.

'Ahhh Princess Lithôniel, it is a pleasure to look upon you once again." Thror greeted in a booming voice.

As Thorin pulled out her hair and helped her sit, she replied, "Your majesty, my gratitude at your invitation is without measure."

"Polite as she is beautiful." The King laughed. "Thorin hurry up and sit beside the pretty Elf so we can eat."

As the feast ran down, Lithôniel smiled at the Dwarves all around singing and laughing. Thorin had introduced her to some of his kin, his distant cousins Oin and Gloin from the north as well as their cousins, Balin, Commander of the guard and his brother Dwalin. Of the new dwarves she had been introduced to Lithôniel enjoyed Balin's company the most, finding the Commander wise and gentle, a lover of books and conversation.

As dancers started to make their way to the dance floor, the atmosphere became even more lively as the crowd began to clap and stomp to the rhythm. Sitting from her position between Thorin and Balin, Lithôniel craned her neck to try and see the dancers better.

"Would you like to see the dancers closer Princess?" Balin asked.

Looking to the elder Dwarf she smiled, "That would be lovely."

Standing Balin held out his hand for Lithôniel who took it smiling as he lead her to the dance floor. Reaching the edge, she laughed watching the couples whirl about the floor. The song was riotous as the dwarves sang about a cat and a fiddle with a man in the moon. But then the song changed to a melodic upbeat tempo.

"Forgive me Princess, but it would be best if we move back to the High Table now." Balin grasped her arm gently and tried to direct her back.

"Why? A new song has just started." Lithôniel questioned confused.

"Balin, bring her back to the table." Thorin suddenly appeared at the Elf's side.

Looking slightly exasperated Balin replied, "I am trying Thorin."

"What is going on? Why is it so important I return to the table?"

"This is a courting song Your Majesty. Usually in our culture it is the Dwarven women who court the men. Being as how there are fewer of them then us, they generally have their pick, but during the season of Autumn, it is acceptable for a man to choose a woman he may court. And she can not say no. We simply fear you may be pulled into the dance and find yourself betrothed to a Dwarf man at the end of it." Balin explained.

No sooner had he finished his explanation when Lithôniel felt a great tug on her arm as she was swept up into the dance. As one voice the Dwarves sang:

"Just give me your hand,
Give me your hand.
Just give me your hand
And I'll walk with you,
Through the streets of our land,
Through the mountains so grand.
If you give me your hand.
Just give me your hand,
And come along with me.
Will you give me your hand,
And the world it can see,
That we can be free,
In peace and harmony?
From the north to the south.
From the east to the west.
Every mountain, every valley,
Every bush and birds nest!"

All around the Elf was twirled between various partners. Because she did not know the steps, she faltered a bit between the dancers, but her Elven grace kept her from stumbling.

"By day and night,
Through all struggle and strife,
And beside you, to guide you,
Forever, my love.
For love's not for one,
But for both of us to share.
For our country so fair,
For our world and what's there.

Just give me your hand,
Give me your hand,
Just give me your hand,
For the world it is ours.
All the sea and the land,
To destroy or command,
If you give me your hand.
Just give me your hand,
In a gesture of peace.
Will you give me your hand
And all troubles will cease,
For the strong and the weak,
For the rich and the poor?
All peoples and creeds,
Let's meet their needs.
With a passion, we can fashion,
A new world of love!"

"Lithôniel!"

At hearing her name she turned and spotted Thorin attempting to make his way towards her. Suddenly a large dwarf barreled into her causing her to fly forward, but a solid object caused her to stop short of falling to the ground. As arms circled around her middle, Lithôniel looked up and discovered she had been caught by Throin, who was currently looking at deep into her eyes. And unreadable but powerful emotion in his blue orbs.

Then it was as if the feeling in the room shifted, and they were the only ones in it. Taking her hands Thorin placed them in the proper place and began to move with her about the floor. Having seen some of the steps as she was being tossed about, the Elf was able to passably follow along as he guided her. As a great whirl in the music came up, Thorin shifted his hands to her hips and lifted her up, twirling her into the air. Grasping onto his shoulders Lithôniel allowed herself a moment to appreciate his strong broad shoulders and the way the muscles rippled beneath her hands.

"By day and night,
Through all struggle and strife,
And beside you, to guide you,
Forever, my love.
For love's not for one,
But for both of us to share.
For our country so fair,
For our world and what's there."

As the song ended Thorin let her down slowly, as if he did so reluctantly. Then taking her hand he gave her a slight bow before leading her off the floor. Lithôniel did not miss the fact he hid not release her hand until she was fully seated back at the table.

"Marvelous! Marvelous." Thror laughed clapping at the pair. "You are a lovely dancer my dear. When pared with the right partner." He winked at Thorin. Looking to The King of Mirkwood he commented, "Thranduil your niece is a credit to your kin."

"Your praise is gracious." Thranduil inclined his head from further down the table, though his eyes flashed with annoyance at his niece and the Dwarven Prince.

The rest of the evening Lithôniel spent talking with Balin, Dwalin, Thror, Thrain and Dis. The Dwarven Princess told Lithôniel that her sons had fallen asleep soon after they had been fed dinner and would not be joining them, though they wished to spend time with her before she departed home once more. Smiling the Elf agreed, finding the Dwarflings adorable and enchanting.

Despite the fact she sat next to him, Lithôniel found she could not draw Thorin into conversation. He continued to stare off into the distance, drinking goblet after goblet of ale, and play with his signet ring. As the feast ended and Thror called everyone to retire to their chambers for the evening, she wondered if she had upset him somehow.

The next morning she rose early, and after asking instructions from a guard, made her way to the Training Cavern. There was no one about, the Elf assuming the Dwarves were still in bed, the remnants of drink they consumed having gone to their head.

Removing her bow from her shoulder Lithôniel nocked an arrow and loosed it into a target on the far side of the room. The arrow's head landed with a satisfying thrum in the center of the target. Drawing out another from her quiver she loosed it from the bow and landed a shot next to the last. The next shot she landed split the shaft of the first arrow in two.

Sensing another's approach she turned and found Thorin making his way into the cavern.

Stopping short once seeing her, he said, "Forgive my intrusion. I will allow you quiet to continue."

"Thorin, wait." Lithôniel pleaded lowing her bow. "Have I done something to displease you?"

Eyes going wide, he stepped closer. Placing a gentle hand on her arm he questioned, "Why do you think that?"

"You have avoided me since we danced." She told him. Then realization dawned. Gasping she asked, "Thorin, are we betrothed? Is that the cause of your anger?"

Face softening he took her free hand in his. "No, we are not betrothed. There are many customs and rituals that must be observed before we would be pledged to one another. And I am not angry, merely confused. I have...a strange feeling stir within me when you are near. It as if my heart beats faster and slower at the same time, and a feeling of extreme excitement and contentment settle upon me at once."

Smiling, Lithôniel gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "You are not alone in your confusion, for I feel it too."

"Truly?" He asked chuckling with disbelief, a bright smile spreading across his face, the light reaching her eyes.

"Gellon ned i galar i chent gîn ned i gladhog." She smiled.

"Your eyes are the beautiful ones, especially when you laugh."

Surprised she questioned, "Pedig edhellen?"

"Our people share a border, it is beneficial to both our kingdoms that the future King speak Elvish.' He smirked.

"Perhaps during my stay, you would be able to teach me the language of your people."

Smiling Thorin bowed over her hand still within his. 'It would be my honor."

Blushing slightly Lithôniel smiled brightly at him.

For the next three weeks the pair spent at least part of every day together, sparring, exploring and learning about each other's peoples and each other. During that time Lithôniel also spent her days with Dis and her sons, finding herself falling more and more in love with the children.

To the Elves, all children were considered precious. Because they were immortal, Elven children were rare and thus, furiously protected and often spoiled beyond measure.

Time was also spent with Balin and Dwalin, conversations upon politics, trade, and philosophy with the elder were stimulating and she enjoyed them greatly. The younger was gruff and often seemed off-putting but once Lithôniel began sparring with the Dwarf he seemed to warm up to her, realizing she was no delicate flower of a Princess.

All too soon though the time of the Elves' stay drew to a close and she found herself standing beside King Thranduil as they bid their goodbyes. As her Uncle exchanged pleasantries with King Thror, she allowed her mind to wonder back to an hour before as she and Thorin had shared a private goodbye of their own.

"You travel home to Mirkwood." He spoke softly, taking her hand in his, he gently brushed his thumb over her silky skin.

Shaking her head she corrected, "I shall travel with my Uncle for a time, but then our paths shall diverge and I shall travel with a company of guards and attendants to Rivendell, there is where I will spend Firith and Rhîw with my kin."

"May I...may I write to you when you are away?" He asked shyly.

"I would despair if you didn't." She told him honestly, a hand coming to cup his face, gently running her fingers across the coarse hairs of his short beard. She still found the growth fascinating.

"Farewell Lithôniel. Not a day will go by that I will not think of you, and I shall count the hours until we see each other again."

"Guren níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham" She told him, tears forming in her eyes.

"And my heart shall not be whole until you are once again in my arms." He assured her.

Drawing her to him, they held onto each other tightly, breathing deeply to keep the scent and feel of one another until they met again. Drawing back, Lithôniel placed a quick kiss upon his lips. Surprised they stared at each other a long moment. Then placing his hand upon her neck Thorin crushed his mouth to hers once more. As their lips moved against each other's they both let out sighs of pleasure feeding on the emotions that had been unleashed.

Pulling back she breathed, "I must go. They will come searching for me soon."

Pressing his forehead to hers Thorin pleaded, "Don't leave me."

"I never truly shall. You need only search your heart, and you shall find me there. Always."

"Gwaem Lithôniel, your journey is long and I would not have us set upon the road past midday." Thranduil interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes Tôrana." She agreed half heartedly. To the Dwarven Royals she spoke, " Na lû e-govaned vîn." Letting her gaze linger on Thorin.

"By the grace of Audi it shall not be a long time." King Thror smiled gently at her. "Farewell and many blessings on your halls."

Bowing Lithôniel followed her Uncle from The King's Hall. Though her spirit cried out for one last look upon Thorin, she refused. For she knew if she did, she would never be able to leave. But they would see each other again. Somehow she knew this was certain.

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