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She had been in the palace now for a little over a month. The newness had already started to wear off after her sister's wedding. Frankly, Narylfiel felt a little homesick. Even with Thaliniel and Legolas right down the hall from her and the much admired King Thranduil down a few more doors, she felt lonely. She told herself that it was very silly to feel that way—the palace was abuzz with people every single day! She ate all her meals with the royal family, sometimes in the great dining hall, sometimes in the more secluded dining room in the royal wing of the palace, but still... everyone seemed so busy. Legolas and Thaliniel were busy planning a trip to Rivendell, and Thranduil was, well, busy being the king of the entire woodland realm.

So it was that on this particular evening, Narylfiel arrived at the family dining room early. She really hoped to talk to King Thranduil before the others arrived; he was usually early, she noticed, but on this particular night, he was nowhere in sight. Narylfiel drummed her fingers on the shiny dark wood of the table and waited...and waited. Her stomach growled, and she wondered if there would be some more of that lovely pudding from lunch.

Narylfiel heard the sound of light footsteps coming down the hall, and her stomach growled again. Finally, the others were coming, and dinner would be served!

Legolas appeared in the doorway. He looked rather relieved to have found her. "Narylfiel! We missed you at dinner. After the first course came out, your sister was worried, so I volunteered to find you."

"But it's the middle of the week," Narylfiel protested. "We always eat here on that day."

Legolas' face softened. "Oh, no. My father changed the plans, and no one thought to tell you? We had just finished the pudding, and—"

"I missed the pudding?" Narylfiel bit her lip, her stomach growling again. They had forgotten her. They had eaten all the pudding without her. She looked down at the bare table before her, and despite her best efforts, a solitary tear slipped out.

"I don't think I want to be here anymore, Legolas," she said in a small voice. "I want to go home."

"I am so sorry, Narylfiel," he said, coming over to her side, pulling out a chair to sit beside her. "I feel terrible that this happened, and I can only imagine how your sister will feel!" He put his arm around her; Narylfiel always liked it when he did that, just like she imagined an older brother might.

"It's not just that, Legolas," she said mournfully. "I like it here, but everything is so big, with so many people. I guess I just feel a little lost."

"I think I understand how you feel," he said, his voice quiet.

"You do?" she looked up at him with wet lashes. "But you have Thaliniel, and all sorts of friends, and your father..."

"I have those things now," Legolas confided, "but that hasn't always been the case. I grew up here too, Narylfiel. I know how easy it is to get lost in the shuffle at the palace."

She nodded just once and met his eyes. "I just think it might be better if I went back to the vineyard for a while."

"You can always go back home, Narylfiel," he assured her. "I'll take you any time you want to go...but I hope you'll consider staying most of the time here."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Legolas. I will think about it."

He poked her in the ribs. "Besides," he whispered conspiratorially, "sometimes not being noticed has its advantages! Why, when I was your age, I could go anywhere in the palace, practically unseen. And you would be shocked at all the things you can hear, because no one thinks you're listening!"

Narylfiel seemed to consider these previously unthought-of advantages, when Thaliniel, out of breath and pale, came around the corner. "Oh, thank goodness!" she exclaimed, sagging against the doorway. "When you didn't show up for dinner—and then Legolas left and didn't come back—I thought it was like the Grey Mountains all over again. Please don't scare me like that again!"

"Nobody told her that dinner had been moved to the Great Hall," Legolas told his wife flatly.

Thaliniel's face fell. "Oh, you poor thing!" she said, her earlier pique forgotten. "I am so very sorry, Narylfiel. I just thought you knew, but I should have—"

Narylfiel shook her head, hopping up from her seat to throw her arms around her sister for a hug.

"Legolas!" a sharp voice commanded from the doorway. Thranduil had arrived. "Is it too much to ask that the members of the royal family stay for the entire meal?"

His cool blue eyes swept the room. His daughter-in-law and her sister were hugging and looked as though one or both had been crying, and his own son looked dejected. "Is someone going to tell me what happened?" he asked pointedly at the prince.

Legolas cleared his throat, but it was Narylfiel who spoke up first. "I didn't know dinner was in the Great Hall tonight. I was waiting for everyone here."

Thranduil cast his eyes toward his son, who nodded in agreement. Just then Narylfiel's stomach made a painfully loud growl.

"All this time?" the king asked. "All by yourself?"

She nodded, a few more pesky tears forming at the corners of her eyes at the sound of concern in the king's voice.

He stepped into the room, sank down in the chair next to his son. He met Legolas' eyes and then looked back at Narylfiel. "Galion!" he shouted.

Moments later, his butler appeared in the doorway. "Your highness?" he asked apprehensively. Usually when his lordship yelled like that, it meant unpleasantness of some sort.

"Change of plans," the Elvenking said smoothly, watching the two sisters from the corner of his eye. "Tell the wait staff to bring our meal here."

'And pudding,' Legolas mouthed to his father.

Thranduil did not miss a beat. "And pudding," he said grandly. "We will require a lot of pudding."

Narylfiel perked up. "Really?" she asked. "Because pudding can make any situation feel better."

"All the more reason to have it," Thranduil agreed heartily.

Not more than ten minutes later Narylfiel tucked into an enormous bowl of pudding. She had her sister on her left and King Thranduil on her right, and thought to herself that her lonely evening could not have ended any better than this. She really did believe in happy endings!—and if that were not enough on its own, she had her very own handsome prince coming to her rescue, along with King Thranduil, who in her opinion, could put every fairy tale hero to shame. Perhaps, she concluded, as King Thranduil slyly added another spoonful of pudding to her bowl, she would give living at the palace one more chance.

.  -  .  -  .

One day after Yule, 3018:

Immediately after dinner, Thranduil insisted that Narylfiel make her way down to the Healer's quarters to see Hûredhiel. He sent her in the company of Melui, and even though Narylfiel was loath to go, her friend succeeded in prodding her down the hall toward the general direction of the Healing wing.

"But I feel so much better," grumbled Narylfiel.

"So then it should hardly be an issue, right?" Melui said with a quick grin.

"I suppose so," Narylfiel said and had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Queens do not roll their eyes, she reminded herself.

Wilem just happened to be the first of the healers they saw in the hall, and his eyes lit up when he saw them. He pushed his wispy hair away from his eyes and smoothed the front of his tunic. "Ladies," he exclaimed, "what a pleasure to see you both." His eyes darted between the pair, but lingered on Melui.

"Lady Melui, I am pleased to see you again. What brings you down here?" His smile faded, and he looked anxious. "Not injured, I hope!"

"No," Melui, her smile faltering. "Lady—sorry, Queen—Narylfiel is here for a follow-up visit with Hûredhiel."

Wilem's eyes widened. "So it is true!" he exclaimed. "My congratulations to you and the King!"

"Thank you, Wilem," Narylfiel said, her cheeks feeling warm. "So if Hûredhiel is busy, I could just come back later..." she quickly turned to leave, but Melui caught her arm.

"She'll wait," Melui said firmly.

Wilem nodded, his eyes still fixed on Melui. "You could wait in this room, your Highness?" he then suggested, opening a nearby door.

Narylfiel entered the room with an exaggerated sigh, casting her eyes to her friend.

"I'll just be right out here waiting for you," Melui said, crossing her arms.

"More like guarding the door, so I can't escape..." Narylfiel said under her breath.

"That too," Melui agreed.

"It is such a pleasure seeing you again, Lady Melui," Narylfiel heard Wilem intone, just before the door swung shut. Narylfiel smirked to herself. It seemed as though the young healer had taken quite a fancy to her guard. "So are you here on official guard business?" she heard him say on the other side of the door. "Because your dress seems too lovely to hide any weapons!" This time Narylfiel allowed herself a full-on eye roll. She hoped Wilem stood there and tried to flirt with Melui for the entire healer visit! It would be just what she deserved.

Narylfiel stopped listening after a few more insipid attempts at flattery from Wilem, and noticed that her patient room actually had another entrance... She could slip out, unnoticed!

She cracked open the door and peeked out to the hall. It was at that moment that she heard a most unpleasant voice complain: "But I need more!"

Narylfiel stiffened. She knew that voice. It was Lord Filron.

She peered out again. The door to the room across from hers was open. From across the hall, Lord Filron gestured angrily to some poor healer, and Narylfiel bristled.

She took one second to debate the wisdom of going over there and saying a few choice words and decided against it. That would probably not be very prudent...and certainly not very queenly. She folded her arms and resolved to wait for Hûredhiel. She tapped her foot and recrossed her arms.

Lord Filron raised his voice again. "Do you even know who I am?"

Narylfiel sighed. Honestly, she did not even know why she tried. She tried to be good...she really did! And then these sorts of things had to happen.

Narylfiel crossed the hall and swung open the door to Lord Filron's waiting room without knocking.

His back to the door, Lord Filron turned with a hiss. "Just who do you think—"

"You—" he bit off the word and narrowed his eyes at her.

Narylfiel arched a single eyebrow, a perfect imitation of a classic Thranduil move, one she had seen him do countless times, and had practiced in her own mirror until she had it down just so.

"Yes, me," she said. "It sounded like you were having problems?" she asked sweetly.

"Get out!" he exclaimed and pointed in the direction of the door.

"No, I don't think so," Narylfiel said in a low voice and inclined her head. "You know, Lord Filron, I really did not appreciate your words tonight concerning my relationship with the king."

Filron sniffed. "As if I would lower myself to care about your opinion—I only said what many others were thinking. You are a disappointment to the entire kingdom."

Narylfiel smiled thinly. "If you think you can go against King Thranduil and win, then you had better get used to being disappointed."

Filron's eyes darkened. "Threats do not become you, my lady."

She shook her head. "You misunderstand, dear Lord Filron. I have no intention of threatening you!" He made to push past her and she moved in front of the door, effectively trapping him in the room. "I have no need for threats," she clarified. "You know, I spent my youth in these halls—wandering, exploring...listening."

Filron's shoulder's tightened. He pursed his lips.

A slow smile spread across Narylfiel's face. "You can imagine I heard some very interesting things." She paused for effect. "I heard something about you, Lord Filron, and it was not very flattering. I never told anyone, but..." Narylfiel let her voice trail away and met his eyes.

"Should we keep it that way?" she asked silkily.

Lord Filron harrumphed. "You wouldn't dare! That was years ago, and it was a mistake!" he seethed. " And who would believe you, any way?"

Narylfiel shrugged innocently. "Isn't it terrible how rumors get started? Just one word in the wrong ear..."

Filron's face darkened, his hand shot out and cuffed Narylfiel on the upper arm. "That business with the treasury was an oversight—a simple error!"

Narylfiel pried his hand loose and smirked. "Treasury error?" She tsked at him. "I was actually referring to your other...little... problem," she said, holding up her pinky finger, "but I am sure the king would love to hear about the treasury as well."

Filron paled. "You'll keep quiet if you know what's good for you."

"As will you, Lord Filron," Narylfiel said, lifting the latch on the door. "As will you." She slid out into the hall, but Filron followed.

"You presume too much, Narylfiel!" he said nastily. "And it will get you into the sort of trouble from which no one, not even the king, will be able to save you!"

"Filron." Lady Hûredhiel's voice rang out from down the hall. "Go back to your waiting room," she said sternly just as Melui appeared around the corner with Wilem tagging along behind her.

He opened his mouth as if to argue, but Hûredhiel merely pointed to the open door. "We are done here," she said firmly. "Go."

Perhaps Filron might have argued but for the dark look in Melui's eyes as she stood behind the healer. Gone was the laughing elleth of only minutes before, and in her place stood one of the Royal Guard—adamant, as tense as a coiled spring, her eyes trained on her new queen and the elf who had been so bold to threaten her.

Hûredhiel's eyes were no less stern when they turned on Narylfiel. "After you," Hûredhiel said gesturing to the opposite door, and her patient meekly obeyed.

Once inside, the healer shut the door, and asked Narylfiel to sit upon the exam table in the room. She made no mention of the scene in the hall, nor did she offer advice or her opinion. Instead, she felt Narylfiel's pulse, listened to her heart beat and the sound of her breathing. Hûredhiel gently rested two fingers between Narylfiel's neck and jaw, and held her hand there. "Relax," she said.

Narylfiel tried her best. It proved rather difficult, especially with her mind racing from her encounter with Lord Filron, that...that troll!

Hûredhiel sighed and lifted her fingers from Narylfiel's neck. "My queen," she said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Well..." Narylfiel was thoughtful before she continued, "much better feeling, actually. I feel more like my old self."

Hûredhiel nodded. "Your coloring, your temperature, even your feä are all much improved," she observed. "I am so glad to see such improvement—glad for you and King Thranduil both."

Narylfiel nodded, her cheeks rosy at the unspoken aspect of their conversation, that her healing had been achieved through bonding with Thranduil last night. Had it been only a day? Her mind reeled at the thought—so much had happened!—and then reeled again at the thought of spending the night with him again.

Her healer tapped on her shoulder and brought her back to the present. "My lady?" she said. "Any concerns...questions?"

Narylfiel shook her head, blushing a little more. "No, I...am fine."

"This morning King Thranduil mentioned he was concerned about something that happened when you bonded?" Hûredhiel hedged and added, "he was very worried about you, Narylfiel."

Narylfiel tugged on the ends of her hair and pressed her hands to her cheeks to cool them.

"Well..." she started, but trailed off, looked away.

Hûredhiel hesitated and then placed her hand gently on the younger elleth's shoulder. "You can talk to me about it, Narylfiel. I know your sister is not here. But you can confide in me—especially about your health, or with any questions you might have."

Narylfiel let out a breath she did not even realize she had been holding. "I am not sure that I would be having this sort of conversation with Thaliniel, even if she were here!" she said, scrunching up her face. "Can you imagine? Thranduil is Legolas' ada. It's just going to be so awkward."

But Hûredhiel would not be let her young patient change the subject. "What happened?" she asked gently. "Thranduil said when you bonded it caused you great pain. He does not like seeing you hurt, Narylfiel."

"It happened right as we were...bonding," Narylfiel said, choosing her words carefully, "and a sharp pain burned right through my chest, almost as if I had been cut through the heart." She shook her head. "I thought I was dying for a moment. Hûredhiel, I've never felt anything that hurt so much, and it's not like I haven't had my fair share of injuries while on duty."

The healer nodded thoughtfully. "Does it still hurt? Any discomfort?"

Narylfiel shook her head. "No. No, I feel fine—better than I have in a very long time, I might add."

Then Hûredhiel smiled. "I am very glad to hear it. I believe—and this is purely speculation on my part, mind you—that the pain you felt was the strength of Thranduil's feä, burning away the final traces of the poison from your system."

She brightened at that. "So am I all healed now? All better?"

"Well," the healer said. "It may take some time to regain your full strength, Naryfliel. We do not know what the long term side-effects of the poison may be...but yes, I do believe you are well on your way to being 'all better.'"

At this news, the younger elleth gave a loud whoop and jumped down from the table, hugging Hûredhiel and then racing to the door to find Melui and tell her the news.

"What a relief!" cried Melui, pulling her friend into her arms. "Oh, I am so glad!"

"Me too," murmured Narylfiel. "Thranduil's been so worried..."

"You should go tell him!" exclaimed Melui as Hûredhiel looked on indulgently from the doorway.

Narylfiel pulled away, her breath catching. "Yes! Of course!" Her eyes lit up and then slid to Hûredhiel as if asking permission to go.

The lovely healer laughed then and shooed them on their way.

.  -  .  -  .

Author's note: Please comment, vote, and follow. :)

Narylfiel: Time to celebrate! #PuddingGoalz

Thranduil: Filron gonna be celebrating from the dungeon after throwing shade at MY queen. And yes, that IS a threat. #Warning

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