Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the plot and the characters I created. Everything else is borrowed from the literary master J.R.R. Tolkien and shall be returned - intact, I hope - at the end of this fic.

        Legolas looked around him, silently chewing his lunch. The glade he was in was glowing golden-green in the mid-morning light. Four other Elves sat around the glade, all eating a quick lunch of lembas before they had to carry on in their journey.
        Legolas shivered as he remembered their errand. Rumor spoke of orcs living and multiplying again in the dark castle of Dol Guldur, and Thranduil had sent him to spy on the fortress. Legolas glanced at the companions whom his father had picked to accompany him. Of the four, only two were close to his age, but one of them, Maeglin, acted like he were centuries older than them. Legolas smiled thinking of his friend. Maeglin had extremely sharp eyes, even for an Elf, and could hit a target from a mile away.
        The eldest Elf, Thoron, had been friends with Thranduil from childhood. Thoron had reddish-brown hair like eagle's feathers and bright brown eyes. He was fast with a bow, but even faster on his feet. The seasoned warrior could beat all of the Wood Elves in a race, no matter their age.
        Darye was the youngest, Legolas being twenty years his senior, and undisputedly the most mischievous. He enjoyed playing jokes and having fun, but he was also the best tracker in Mirkwood. He knew every blade and leaf and could tell if they had been moved the slightest inch.
        Thindolfin was perhaps the most mysterious. His grey-black eyes rarely held any mirth and he kept mostly to himself. He had long silver hair that glittered in the faintest starlight. Legolas smiled as he remembered being afraid of Thindolfin when he first met him as a young Elf. As he grew, Legolas learned that Thindolfin was actually very kind, though you would not guess that if you saw him fight. The quiet Elf had become like a second father to the prince, teaching him to use a bow and travel swiftly and noiselessly through the trees.
        "Legolas, there is a spider behind you!"
        Legolas leapt to his feet, but relaxed when he saw Darye grinning at him. "That was not funny," the prince grumbled, sitting back down.
        "Well I had to get your attention someway!" the incorrigible Elf replied, grinning as he flopped down next to his friend. "Calling your name did not appear to be working."
        Legolas smiled. "Sorry, I was thinking."
        Darye's grin broadened. "About what, Aiwë?"
        Legolas blushed and threw a punch at Darye that he easily avoided. "I will have you know I was not thinking of her," Legolas said indignantly.
        "For once," Darye laughed, dodging another blow. "But seriously friend, when are you going to ask her? You have backed out five times already!"
        Legolas frowned and his face grew even redder. "I know, I know, it is just that, every time she looks at me I get all nervous and lose my courage."
        Darye grinned. "By the Valar, I hope she never looks at you when you are fighting, you shall be slaughtered!"
        Legolas was contemplating killing Darye, or at least seriously injuring him, when Thoron's voice stopped him.
        "Stop playing and get moving," Thoron growled, throwing the young Elves a cold glance. "You two must remember why we are out here."
        Legolas rolled his eyes when Thoron had turned his back. "Who says I want to be out here anyway?" he grumbled.
        "Yeah, you could be back at the halls flirting with Aiwë," Darye piped cheekily. This time Legolas found his mark and Darye fell silent rubbing his bruised arm and giving Legolas dark looks.
        "Less talk, more traveling," Thoron said sternly.
        The Elves sped silently through the trees, eager to complete their task and return home. Suddenly Legolas stopped, a dagger at his throat.
        "And you said I was a bad stalker," a female voice close to his ear teased.
        The Elf prince turned his head ever so slightly and saw a female Elf behind him, her blue eyes glinting with mischief.
        "Aiwë, why am I not surprised?" Legolas sighed, but his lips were pulled up in a smile.
        Aiwë smiled back and withdrew her blade. It was a long white knife with Elvish script running the length of its blade. She sheathed the knife and pushed her long dark brown hair away from her face.
        "Legolas? What is keeping you?" Thoron's agitated voice called from the trees.
        "I am afraid I have been captured!" the Elf called back cheerfully, winking at Aiwë.
        "And it was not easy!" Aiwë laughed.
        Thoron suddenly appeared beside them, a frown on his face as he glared at Aiwë. "What are you doing here?"
        "I came to help you scout Dol Guldur," she replied sweetly.
        Thoron sighed. "This is not a picnic outing," he said sternly. "This is very dangerous and I do not want an amateur messing things up."
        "I am no amateur!" Aiwë said indignantly. "I have been on many orc and spider hunts and I can hold my own. On top of that, we will hopefully not be fighting, but observing, and you need all the eyes you can get."
        Before Thoron could reply, Thindolfin dropped onto the branch next to him. "Let her come," the Elf said in his soft voice. "She is a good tracker and has a keen eye. She would be useful."
        Thoron looked at them all then sighed. "Very well, you may come, but be careful!"
        With this warning they continued on their journey towards the fortress in southern Mirkwood. When they made camp that evening, Thoron told them that they would reach Dol Guldur by noon tomorrow, and they should be back at Thranduil's halls in two days. The Elves made a small fire and ate with light hearts, forgetting for a short time the darkness that was before them. Legolas and Aiwë sat together, talking and laughing. Thindolfin watched the two Elves, a rare smile on his face. Aiwë had been orphaned at a young age when her parents were killed in an orc raid. To the surprise of all, Thindolfin had adopted the little Elf. At first glance, the two appeared to be exact opposites; Thindolfin was always calm and composed and Aiwë tended to be reckless and rambunctious. However, if one were to look closer, they would see that they two had much in common. They both were kind and gentle, and both were fierce warriors, keeping mostly to themselves. Thindolfin was the only father Aiwë remembered, and she loved me as such.
        Thindolfin gazed into the fire, allowing his mind to wander back many years to the day Legolas and Aiwë first met.
        The Elf prince had been attempting to shoot the bow his father had given him, and he could not hit a target to save his life. Legolas had then been scarcely five hundred, and Aiwë only a few years younger. Thindolfin had watched Legolas from a tree until he could take it no more. Dropping to the ground, he had proceeded to instruct the young Elf on the ways of archery. The lesson had been going smoothly, and Legolas had improved greatly in a few short hours. Then Aiwë had come, her blue eyes glinting with mischief as she watched the prince shoot, a slight smile on her face.
        "How long have you been teaching him, Ada?*" she asked sweetly.
        "A few hours," Thindolfin replied, wondering what mischief she had been up to.
        "May I see?" Aiwë asked, motioning towards Legolas' bow.
        The prince gave it to her like one in a trance, watching as she ran her hands along the bow and bowstring.
        "Tis a beautiful bow," she said, testing the string's resistance. "May I try?"
        Legolas glanced at Thindolfin and received a nod. Legolas handed Aiwë an arrow and she accepted with a gracious smile. "What shall I use as a target?" she asked, smiling sweetly at Legolas.
        Glancing around, Legolas' eyes fell on a leaf clinging desperately to its branch in the cold autumn season, though all his companions had already fled. Legolas had been trying to hit the leaf all day and not yet succeed. "That leaf," the prince said, indicting the target with a gesture from his slender hand.
        Aiwë lifted the bow, sighted down the arrow, and released the string. The arrow flew true, and the leaf fluttered to the ground, torn through the center. Legolas stood staring, his mouth slightly open. Aiwë handed his bow back to him, a smug smile on her face.
        "How did you do that?" Legolas asked with awe.
        Aiwë laughed, a sound that shamed the song of the nightingale. "Practice," she said with a grin. "But I am afraid the bow is of no use to me. I may be a good shot, but I have no speed. An enemy would fell me before I released my arrow."
        "Then I guess you shall soon cease to amaze our young prince," Thindolfin said with a smile. "He will be one of our faster archers, and he has a good eye, he just needs to be taught."
        Legolas smiled slightly at this complement and Aiwë looked at him in surprise. "You are one of Thranduil's sons?" she asked, cocking her head slightly.
        "Yes," Legolas said shyly, "and who may you be?"
        Aiwë smiled. "My name is Aiwë."
        The two Elves smiled at each other, and Thindolfin could see that a friendship had been born. Since then the two had been practically inseparable. They would constantly slip out into Mirkwood, racing through trees, chasing deer in sport, and finding other ways to get in trouble. The older Elves shook their heads at this, but attempts to stop them proved useless.
        Thindolfin was roused from his memories by Darye poking his side. Thindolfin turned to the young Elf with a frown, wary of the glint in Darye's eyes.
        "What are you up to?" the silver haired Elf growled.
        Darye grinned. "I have an idea..."
        Legolas and Aiwë were talking quietly when suddenly a canteen flew across the fire and struck Legolas' arm. Rubbing the welt, he glared at the other Elves.
        "Alright, who did that?"
        "I did," Darye piped up, the usual grin on his face. "I seem to be out of water, and I was wondering if you be so kind as to refill my canteen for me?"
        Legolas glared at him. "Why don't you do it?"
        "You are closer," Darye replied smoothly. "There is a small stream less than a mile straight behind you. Come on friend, please?"
        Legolas sighed and picked up the canteen. Immediately three more canteens struck him. "Refill mine too!" the other three Elves chorused.
        Legolas glared at them. Before the angry Elf could start yelling at them, Aiwë stood up and placed a hand on his arm. "Leave them be, they are just trying to make you mad. Here, I will help you."
        The other Elves watched as Legolas and Aiwë picked up the canteens and walked towards the stream. When they were out of hearing range, Darye sighed, a grin on his face.
        "I knew I could count on Aiwë," he chuckled.
        "Mm, maybe, but can we count on Legolas?" mused Maeglin. "He has already had five opportunities, what makes you think he will not back out again?"
        "He better not," Thoron grunted. "We got him mad enough at us to make him forget his nervousness."
        The Elves, even Thoron, laughed and joked as they waited for Legolas and Aiwë to return.
        These two had by now reached the stream and were refilling the canteens. Aiwë glanced at Legolas. He was still grumbling, but his anger appeared to be changing quickly into nervousness. Aiwë sighed. This had happened a few other times when they were alone together, but her guess at his reason to be nervous had never been proved or disproved. Closing the last canteen, Aiwë rose to her feet.
        "Should we go back to camp?" Aiwë asked.
        "Not yet," said Legolas, standing slowly. Walking over to Aiwë he took her hands in his and stood with his head downcast. I have put this off far to long, he thought. I cannot, will not back out again. Taking a deep breath, Legolas said quietly, "Aiwë, I have wanted to ask you something for a long time, but I have never had the courage." Summoning all his strength, Legolas lifted his grey eyes until they met her sapphire gaze. "Will you marry me?"
        Aiwë felt herself go weak, and struggled to stay standing as joy washed over her like a flood. A smile on her lips, she replied softly, "Yes."
        Legolas breathed a sigh of relief, a broad grin on his handsome face. "I was afraid I would never have the courage to ask," he admitted sheepishly.
        "So was I," Aiwë giggled.
        Legolas smiled and slipped his arms about her waist. "I am glad I did ask, or I might have lost the most wonderful thing in the world."
        Legolas gently brought his lips to hers, and Aiwë kissed back softly. When they parted moments later, they both looked as if they had swallowed the moon, and they smiled happily at each other with bright eyes.
        "I have something for you," Legolas said softly, withdrawing his arms from about her with a faint twinge of regret. Reaching into a small bag tied to his belt, he pulled out a small necklace. The pendant was shaped like a beech leaf, green in color and veined with silver. It was hung upon a slender silver chain, and Legolas slipped it softly over Aiwë's head.
        Aiwë touched it, a smile on her face. "Thank you," she said softly.
        "Your welcome," Legolas replied in a whisper, gazing at her lovingly for a moment longer.
        Finally they tore themselves from the other's gaze, picked up the canteens, and headed back to camp.
        When they entered the small glade they were greeted by four eager Elf faces.
        "Well, did you back out again?" Darye asked anxiously. He was rewarded by a full water canteen in his already bruised arm.
        "Nice shot," Legolas said smoothly, grinning at Aiwë.
        "Thank you," she replied with an easy smile.     "I suppose we can take that for a no?" Thoron laughed.
        Aiwë grinned. "Yes, you can, because he asked."
        "And??" four voices cried impatiently.
        Aiwë smirked. "What do you think?"
        Their friends laughed and congratulated the betrothed Elves. When they at last lay down to sleep, Aiwë rested her head against her beloved's chest, and he looped a protective arm about her waist, and so they fell into a peaceful sleep.
 

*Ada - father or daddy in Sindarin