“And I will ask this one final time: where is here?” she asked, punctuating the last three words. When she saw all sixteen of them draw back further on their bowstrings, Kiah knew they would just as soon kill her as explain to her what the hell was going on. With just one thought, all but the new “person” gasped and murmured in their native tongue the moment their weapons wrenched themselves from their grasps and turned on them. 

Sensing the power that emitted from the female, Legolas said grimly, “That will cost you your life, witch,” and released his arrow. It was meant to pierce the trespasser’s heart, but instead it was suspended in mid-air, one foot away from her body. Instead of gasping and muttering as his companions, the prince simply stood, his blue eyes glaring anger. 

At this point Kiah was even more pissed, but something held her back, urging her to diffuse the situation. She took a deep breath before addressing the crowd. “Look,” she began. “I don’t want trouble anymore than you do. If I am trespassing, I apologize. It is not intentional. Now, I recommend that we all just calm down, and work to figure out what the hell is going on.” 

She saw the new elf take a step towards her, his right hand pulling something from behind. Kiah flicked her left forefinger, and all watched as the nearest arrow rotated 180 degrees and flew back to Legolas. She really didn’t have any intention of killing him, just to make him back off. But she didn’t expect to stop the arrow before it pierced one of the others, for the elf had moved to the side, faster than she could see. 

“What the fuck?” she whispered softly. Kiah didn’t get a chance to speak up then, for her attacker launched a small dagger at her. This, too, bounced off her TK shield like the arrow before. 

“Enough!” she yelled, raising her hands high above her head. Instantly all bows, arrows, and weapons she could see shot straight into the air. “Do NOT make me hurt you!” Kiah warned before looking at the floating weaponry and sending it all over the nearest wall with one look. She dropped her gaze but not fast enough, for at that moment Legolas and several others had charged forward, intent on tackling her. 

“Stop!” came a deep, commanding voice that brought Kiah’s attackers to a screeching halt. The telekinetic whirled herself around to see the source, wondering just how bad the situation was going to get. Before her were two older males; she could tell that the one who had spoken was the father of the lead attacker. He was also royalty, made evident by the silver crown on his head, and clothing in different hues of blue. The two favored so much in the face, hair, and height that a blind person could see they were related. The one after him, though, made Kiah gasp. 

Dressed in all gray, the second person had grayish-white hair that just seemed to flow from his head, as if it were part of his attire. He had a look of recognition in his ancient, warm eyes, which was the same look in Kiah’s. 

“You,” she said, her voice tinged with bewilderment. “I’ve seen you before.” 

Gandalf the Grey smiled. “Yes, Strong One, you have.” 

“In a dream…is this part of that dream?” Kiah asked. For the past two weeks, she had a recurring dream of walking around the lake on her home world, pouring out her heart, her every experience, to an old yet very wise man…and here he was, standing right in front of her. 

The older man shook his head and calmly approached her. “No, this is all quite real, Kiah Cherise Goutier.” 

From behind the female, Legolas raised his voice. “Lord Thranduil, what is this? Why is Mithrandir here? This ‘creature’ is a trespasser, and a dangerous one.” His stare shifted from the king to the small female, who now glared over her left shoulder at him. Blue eyes noted brown ones that were slowly becoming darker, almost green. “Please, allow us to deal with this situation, as is our law.” 

Thranduil lifted his right hand, which effectively silenced his son. Looking at the wizard, he asked in elvish, “Are you sure she is the one?” 

From a hidden pocket in his cloak, Gandalf withdrew a small scroll and gingerly unrolled it. He showed it first to the king of Mirkwood before revealing it to Kiah. When she turned her hateful glare from Legolas and looked forward, the color of her eyes shifted to that light brown again. Her mouth dropped slightly open; reaching forward, she extended her right hand to touch the picture on the parchment. When she did, she felt a surge of power the instant her fingertips came in contact with the image, her image. Kiah gasped again, her TK shield dropping as she stumbled back and against a warm, hard, body.  

Gandalf’s smile didn’t leave his face when he answered back, “I am positive, Lord Thranduil. Her reaction tells me that she feels the magic in the scroll, just as we both did.” 

“What…is…going…on?” Kiah asked, righting herself when she heard the soft grunt behind her. She didn’t turn to catch the slightest grimace on Legolas’ face, her confused look giving way to panic and defensiveness. She encased herself in another shield, this one larger than before. Looking at Gandalf, she asked, “Who are you?” 

Not wanting to panic the stranger anymore than she already was, the wizard stayed in place. “To the elves I am Mithrandir, but to others I am Gandalf the Gray.” 

“How do you know my name?” 

“You told me, Strong One, in the dream,” he explained in a tone intended to calm and sooth. 

Legolas started to speak once more before receiving a sharp look from his father. “Legolas, you and the others are excused from training for a while. This is a private matter between myself, Mithrandir, and lady Kiah,” ordered the king. 

“My lord, I insist that I stay by your side. This ‘Kiah’ creature is a—“ 

“You are excused, Legolas,” Thranduil repeated, emphasizing each word. The prince gave his king a respectful bow and left the training court with the others. He looked back once, his cold stare focused on Kiah, who returned the look with equal intensity. 

“Kiah, please listen to me. We do not have much time,” Gandalf began, slowly advancing on the telekinetic who watched him warily. 

“Much time for what? Where the hell am I? What is this, some kind of tripped-out commune or something? What’s the deal with their ears? What the fuck is an elf? Why is my picture on that piece of paper?”  

“You are in Middle Earth, the 3^rd Age, October 13, 3018. Lord Thranduil here, his son Legolas, and the others in this region are elves. And the reason your face is on this scroll is because someone saw you in a dream, years ago,” answered the wizard, who continued to move forward until he was barely outside the perimeter of her shield. 

“Bullshit,” she retorted. The king elf raised an eyebrow, as if he didn’t understand this word, but the twinkle in Gandalf’s eyes showed that he did. 

“It is true, Strong One. I am not lying to you; I have no reason.” At this point, the wizard mumbled a few words and was soon walking through her shield, which elicited a look and a shout. 

“What are you? Get the fuck away from me!” Kiah screamed, then used her power to push Gandalf back twenty feet. The move took him and the elven king by surprise, but not more than her sprinting to the nearest wall and lifting her body up, as if to float straight over the top. 

The old fight-or-flight war waged briefly in the small woman, before ending with the latter choice. I’ve got to get out of here and wake the hell up, somehow, she thought to herself when she heard the gray man speak again. 

“Your home and your loved ones need you, Kiah. If you run, the evil that threatens our world will consume yours years from now. Your destiny was written ages ago, Strong One; for the sake of Middle Earth and your world, you must embrace it.” 

Buoyed by her invisible gift, the small woman slowly bobbed in the air, her shoulder-length wavy, raven hair moving with the motion. “Why do you keep calling me that?” she asked, wondering why something inside believed the old man. 

“Does your name not mean ‘God is Strength’? You were aptly named, Kiah, for you are strong,” Gandalf encouraged, feeling relief when he saw her drift back to the ground. 

 

Valar, what does all this mean? How can a human woman possess such power? Is that not reserved for the other races? Thranduil questioned as he watched the scene unfold. Hidden from sight, a younger copy of the king had questions of his own. 

What is she? Why is Father doing nothing? Has she bewitched him, like she did Gandalf? he thought. “Cadrieldur,” Legolas whispered in elvish. 

“Yes, my prince?” answered the first elf to “greet” Kiah. 

“What do you make of this? Is she a sorceress?” 

Cadrieldur paused a moment to think on his answer, and to look at the woman descending to the ground. Her physical appearance and evident power captivated him the instant he laid eyes on her. The way her eyes changed colors, the full, plush shape of her lips, the way her attire seemed to cling in all the right places—the elf was getting carried away with his thoughts. Clearing his head after a few more seconds, he finally answered, “No, milord, I do not believe she is a sorceress. If what Mithrandir has said is true, then she is of a different place and time…if that is possible.” 

Legolas studied his mentor closely, his deep blue eyes questioning. “Has she bewitched you as well?”  

The elder elf shook his head vehemently. “Certainly not, milord. I am simply studying her, for she is truly different from anything I have ever seen in my life.” 

The prince agreed. “That she is, my friend…but I do not trust her. Until we discern the full nature of her presence, I want you to watch her, just as I will.” 

“It shall be done, milord,” said Cadrieldur as he watched his favorite pupil leave their hiding location. Turning back to the trio in the training court, he thought on Kiah backing into Legolas after she had touched the scroll. Something within wished it had been he she bumped into, but instantly he felt shame for such a feeling. Hmm…perhaps she has bewitched me, unknowingly…in a different way. 

Kiah studied Gandalf intensely for several moments, looking for any shred of falsehood. She’d been hoodwinked too many times in her life, and had learned to be more than careful. When she found nothing, she slowly walked towards the wizard, skepticism still showing in her hazel eyes. “Why do I believe you, Gandalf the Gray? Why do I even want to believe you?” 

“Because I speak the truth, Kiah, and you can sense that. Will you come with the king and I into his chambers to discuss further? What I must share with you is extremely important and confidential. I give you my word that no harm will come to you.” Gandalf extended his weathered, callused right hand to her, and was again relieved when she tentatively accepted it. Turning on his heels, he led her behind the king, and the trio walked back inside. 

 

Three hours later, Kiah was downing her fourth goblet of wine, trying to absorb everything Gandalf had told her. The wizard, the king, and the prince—who was later invited to the meeting—watched and waited for her response. All three knew the potency of elven wine, and were more than amazed that she had not passed out yet. 

Placing the empty goblet back on the table, Kiah began to pace once more. “Let me get this straight: some fool named Sauron created rings for elves, dwarves, and men, and then followed up with a master ring to take over the world. Isildur ‘killed’ him, but then fucked up when he didn’t destroy the ring. Somehow this piece of jewelry was lost, and then found by a hobbit named Bilbo, but no one knew he had it until now. The Sauron character has come back from the dead, to pick up where he left off. Now, Bilbo’s nephew Frodo has the ring, and is on his way to Rivendell to see Elrond…which is where you want me to go, too.” 

“That is it,” Gandalf agreed with part of her summary. 

“And whatever decision comes from that, you want me to volunteer…but I can’t use my power until ‘the appointed time’, otherwise your ‘friend’ Saruman will sense it and try to use it.” Gandalf nodded with this summation as well. 

Kiah stopped pacing to look pointedly at the wizard. She had been recently introduced to the history of all Middle Earth races—being none too happy with the Drows being the dark and evil ones, either—as well as the story of the One Ring. And, if she were truly honest with herself, sober or drunk, she thought it was bullshit. 

“You know this is a major fubar, don’t you?” she stated. 

Gandalf and the other two frowned. “Fubar?” the wizard asked. 

“Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition,” she explained. The corners of Gandalf’s mouth twitched, even more when he noted the still puzzled looks on the two elves. 

She is definitely of the human race, for she swears like a seasoned warrior, he mused. 

“Some murderer has two dreams about me before his execution--one to bring me here, and the other to send me back. The former was the only one recorded. So, even if I decide to play along with this crazy-ass plan, I’m stuck…in Middle Earth…away from my daughter,” Kiah concluded. 

Her last statement startled the elven royalty in the room, for neither had expected she was a mother. Mithrandir knew, of course, for he learned this in their mutual dream. Legolas certainly had not expected it; that revelation temporarily stopped his mental tirade of this human he distrusted so much. 

“I am confident that I am able to return you home, once your destiny has been fulfilled here,” Gandalf tried to reassure. 

“Uh huh,” she said, before walking up to him, her head tilted up to look at the tall wizard. “I’ve got three words for all of this: HELL…FUCKING…NO!” The volume of her voice made Gandalf wince. 

“Someone or something rips me from my home, drops me in the damn-near prehistoric era, to save this ‘Middle Earth’ from some psycho king, but doesn’t provide a way for me to go back…HELL…FUCKING…NO!” she repeated before jabbing her left forefinger into the wizard’s chest. “Now this is what you’re going to do, Mr. Gray: you are going to get your ass behind the nearest cauldron, work me up a spell, and send me home right now. Destiny be damned, this is not my fight, do you understand? This is not my fight!” 

“Yes it is your fight, Kiah,” he responded, sounding authoritative and irritated. In her widening eyes, Gandalf seemed to be growing but not growing, as if his presence were taking up the entire room. “Like it or not, you were chosen by the Valar for this path. Even without the use of your gift until the final hour, you are still a formidable warrior. In order to see your child again, you must cease this tantrum and accept your fate!” 

Just as suddenly as he ‘grew’, Gandalf returned to his normal size, his irritation replaced with compassion. He understood what Kiah was feeling, for he knew her more than the others could conceive. The dream showed him all the bad that she had endured, but it also showed him all the good that was yet to be done. 

The telekinetic backed off after the verbal chastisement, feeling two pairs of blue eyes staring at her. She felt embarrassed and then angry for that feeling. “I need to think about this,” she mumbled after several moments. “Is 24 hours too much to ask for?” 

That warm smile returned to Mithrandir’s face. “No, it is not, Strong One. The journey to Rivendell will not be for another week.” 

Kiah nodded. “Alright. King Thranduil...” 

“Yes, lady Kiah?” 

“Do you have a spare room where I can sort all this out in peace?” 

The elder elf grinned. “I am sure we can find you a room in this place.” Turning to his son, who was no longer looking as agitated as before, he asked, “Legolas, will you see to—“ but was stopped when he heard a thud. The elves and wizard turned and saw Kiah lying on the floor, unconscious. 

“I was wondering when it would finally hit her,” Gandalf stated in Elvish, a smile threatening on his lips. 

“She did consume a lot. I am amazed that she did not pass out three goblets ago,” Thranduil commented, and then motioned for Legolas to pick her up from the floor and take her to the Sun suite, who followed the silent command. As soon as the king opened the door for the pair to exit, catching the surprised look on Cadrieldur’s face, he closed it and focused his attention on the wizard. 

“I have never questioned your judgment before, Mithrandir, but this time I feel I must say something. This may be too much of a burden for the human to bear. The fact that she has a child makes our situation even worse. How can we be sure that she will not balk at the task, and find a different way home?” 

“Lord Thranduil, this human has endured more than you would believe. I have seen the course her life has taken, and it has made her a survivor; to be a helper, a fighter, is in her blood. No matter what may transpire, Kiah will do whatever it takes to save herself, and those around her. She can be trusted,” Gandalf reassured.  

“This is too much, Mithrandir,” he observed. 

“Perhaps, Lord Thranduil, which is why I request that prince Legolas be the one to accompany her. Though he is your youngest, I believe that this will be the adventure that will mature him from a babe to an adult,” offered Gandalf. 

The king raised both eyebrows. Switching to the common tongue, he commented, “Did you not see the way the two clashed? They would have fought to the death, had we not interfered. There is no guarantee that they will not try to kill each other before they even reach Elrond’s kingdom.” 

“Just as there is no guarantee that they will. Kiah and Legolas are different yes, but they do share some similarities, responsibility and commitment. This is the opportunity for both to shine,” Gandalf contended. 

The elven king merely nodded his head, keeping his still doubtful thoughts to himself. We shall see, Mithrandir, he mused. 

 

 

“She drank four whole goblets, milord, and only passed out after the last one?” asked a puzzled Cadrieldur, who followed the prince as he carried the telekinetic to the designated chambers. 

“That she did, my friend, after throwing a tantrum, which I am sure you heard and understood.” Legolas looked at the elf on his left, reading the slight grin on his face. 

“I confess that the lady speaks as a human warrior. Perhaps she could make even Strider blush with her words,” the elder elf observed. From the corner of his eye, he tried to study Kiah without being noticed: the way her head was cradled against the right side of Legolas’ chest, the way her mouth was slightly open, the faint smell of the wine drifting towards him, the long black lashes resting on her cheeks, hiding those unbelievable eyes from view. Cadrieldur’s keen sense of smell detected the lavender perfume that she wore, an intoxicating aroma if he allowed it. Only when he felt Legolas’ eyes studying him once did he end his analysis. 

“Cadrieldur,” said the prince when they had reached the suite. 

“Yes, milord?” 

“Have the healers prepare the wine potion for her. When she awakens, she will most definitely need it. In addition, set two guards outside this door. She is not to move in our kingdom without an escort,” Legolas ordered. 

His mentor bowed quickly, not wanting his disappointment with the commands to be detected. Serves me right, gawking at her as I did, and being caught in the process. No doubt he believes what is true, that she fascinates me, thought Cadrieldur before leaving. 

As he watched his friend depart, the prince opened the door to the room, which was located on the east side of the castle. Aptly named, this was the first suite to be hit with the rays of the sun. Large bay windows flanked the massive, four-post oak bed. All of the furniture radiated a lengthy and royal history of Sylvan elves. Large and spacious, this was Legolas’ favorite room in his father’s home, the place to which he escaped to think. And now, this strange and dangerous human was to rest here; the prince silently wondered if his father was going daft. 

He half-placed, half-dumped the human onto the mattress, not wanting to be in physical contact with her any longer. Instinctively, she curled into a fetal position, on her right side. All the while he carried Kiah in his arms, Legolas felt this unnerving energy flow through her and around him. It was like a warm, tingling sensation, something he had never experienced before. It seemed to flow with each breath she took and exhaled against his neck. He had felt that power when she backed into him in the training court, which was the reason for his earlier grimace. He sensed it when her eyes changed color with her emotions, which set him on edge even more. How can Mithrandir expect us to trust this human? She looks, talks, or acts like no one in all of Middle Earth. How can he be sure that Kiah was not sent by Saruman to---  

Legolas abruptly stopped his train of thought when he heard her half-slur, half-moan, “Je suis desole, Petite. Je vous promets que je serai revenu.” (“I am sorry, Petite. I promise you I will come back.”) She reached out with her left hand, grasping until she found another hand and squeezed gently. “Je promets,” she muttered before drifting back to sleep, her hand dropping with a soft thud to the mattress. 

Thranduil’s youngest son held his breath when Kiah touched him again, for it was his left hand she had squeezed; it was only when he had left the room, shutting the door behind him, when he finally exhaled. The words she said were in a tongue different from Dwarvish, Sindarin, and even Quenya. Somehow—maybe it was because his hand in hers—Legolas could actually sense some sort of heartfelt promise, or resolution. 

As he walked back to the training court, he lifted his left hand, rotating it, studying it. Kiah’s power no longer tingled inside it, and the prince wondered why he felt disappointed. 

When she wakes, she will tell me what she said…among other things, he thought. 

 

Hours later, maybe ten or twelve, Kiah’s stomach decided to revolt while she slept. Groaning loudly, she slowly opened her eyes, trying to focus on making it to her bathroom.  

“Computer, lights 40%,” she commanded before gingerly sitting up, one hand clutching her head, the other her stomach. When she didn’t note a change in the lighting, she said a little louder, “Computer, lights 40%.” The telekinetic attempted to stand on her legs, only to fall on her knees and hit a cold, stone floor. 

Cadrieldur, having exercised his authority and sending the guards to a different station, opened the bedroom door when he heard the moaning and thumping sound. Quickly he strode to Kiah and helped her stumble to the chamber pot, his ability to see in darkness leading him there with no problem. He held her as she emptied her stomach, a warm hand gently brushing her hair from her face. 

When she didn’t think she could throw up anymore, Kiah leaned back, or tried to; the presence of a warm, solid body prevented it. Because it was dark except for the moonlight, she couldn’t make out who was beside her. “Riddick?” she asked softly. 

“No, milady,” he answered. “I am called Cadrieldur, captain of the king’s guard.” 

Kiah paused a bit while her mind struggled to recognize the voice. An image of a blonde elf pointing an arrow at her drifted before her eyes. “Where am I?” 

“In Mirkwood, lady Kiah,” he responded while helping her to her feet and guiding her back to the bed. 

“Then I wasn’t dreaming. All this is real,” she mumbled when she made it to the mattress, only to be lifted and placed gently on it. 

“Yes, it is,” Cadrieldur confirmed. He lit the lantern on the nightstand, its brightness penetrating the dark. His eyes darted to her face, noting the redness of her eyes. While she lay there, watching him warily, he poured a clear liquid from a silver pitcher into a matching cup. Offering it to her, he said, “This will settle your stomach, as well as ease your headache, Arwen en amin.” 

Her head starting to pound, Kiah’s gift still managed to hold the elf at bay, though not as normally strong. 

“Arwen en amin, it is not my desire to cause you harm.” 

“What does ‘Arwen en amin’ mean? Is that some kind of insult? How do I know that you’re not trying to poison me?” she quizzed. 

“If I were to take your life, I would not be so devious as to use poison,” responded the elf. “Plus, I would require a solid reason to do so.” 

Hazel eyes bore into dark brown ones that reflect innocence behind their owner’s gesture. “You still didn’t answer the first question,” Kiah pointed out. 

When he could no longer detect the invisible wall between them, Cadrieldur passed her the cup, faint laugh lines appearing near his eyes when he smiled. “I called you ‘milady’,” he explained. For that is what you are, or at least what I would like you to be. 

If she weren’t still freaked out by the recent turn of events, Kiah would think this elf was quite attractive. Hell, she would think prince Legolas had it goin’ on. Leave it to me to land in the home of the beautiful people. The way he looked at her now was setting her at ease. Perhaps I might have an ally in all of this, if I play my cards right. She sipped her drink, cautious not to gulp down a lot lest it taste horrible. To her somewhat pleasant surprise, it was cold and sweet; this emboldened her to take a solid drink. The instant the liquid flowed down her throat to the pit of her stomach, the clenching queasiness ceased; her headache soon followed. 

“Tante Lucille would love to have the recipe for this. It’s really good. Thank you, Cadriedur.” 

“Lle creoso…you are welcome,” the elf responded with a grin before taking the cup from her and placing it on the nightstand. “May I ask what or who is Tante Lucille?” 

 

Across his father’s garden, Legolas sat on the balcony of his chambers, feeling restless. The lady Belowen lay in his bed, sleeping soundly from the sexual pleasure they had shared. Normally, he would be with her, holding her warm, soft body close. But sleep eluded him this night; perhaps it would elude him every night until Kiah Cherise Goutier was gone. 

A strange name, Kiah Cherise Goutier…a stranger person. She is a living paradox, a tremendous power encased in the tiny, fragile body of a human. And she is tiny, perhaps just several inches above a dwarf. I suspect she held back earlier, when we met; she was certainly reluctant to engage in combat. Somehow, I do not believe that she did so out of fear. Any human who can swear and yell at someone like Mithrandir must not have much fear, or common sense. I cannot believe that someone like her will play a role in the fate of this world. I cannot believe that someone like her is a— 

Keen blue eyes focused on the sudden light that appeared in the Sun suite, interrupting Legolas’ thoughts. She must be awake, the effects of the wine finally getting to her…wait a minute. What is he doing in there? I ordered him to provide guards for her. Where are they? The handsome, fair face of the prince was creased in a frown as he went inside to change from his robe to a light green tunic and darker leggings. He quickly shoved his feet inside his boots before silently leaving his bedroom, and the elf-maiden therein. 

Ten minutes later, Legolas stood outside the Sun suite, listening to the two inside. 

“Your aunt was a healer, then?” Cadrieldur asked. He was now seated on the bed beside Kiah, who had decided to trust him enough not to do anything stupid. 

“That she was. She taught me a few things, basic first-aid…um…healing techniques. Enough to get me by,” shared the telekinetic. Not as strong as two years ago, talking about the family she’d loved and lost renewed the old hurt and sadness; being apart from Asalie certainly did not make things better. 

The elf captain sensed her pain, and squeezed her hand just as Legolas entered the room without knocking. Instantly Cadrieldur released his hold and stood at attention. “Milord…” 

“I see that you chose to ignore my command of posting guards outside this door. You are dismissed; we will discuss this later,” the prince spoke tersely. 

The guard stiffly bowed and moved quickly to the door. He paused for the briefest of moments when he heard Kiah say, “Diola lle, Cadrieldur.” The sound of his native language on her lips was the sweetest music. Lle creoso, Arwen en amin. 

When his mentor was no longer in the room, Legolas turned on Kiah, speaking in a soft but unmistakably cold tone, “Mani naa lle umien? Mankoi naa lle sinome? (“What have you been doing? Why are you here?”) That elf is one of the best warriors in Mirkwood, and you have bewitched him.” 

The telekinetic, who was in the process of removing her shoes, stopped and stood abruptly, her hangover long gone. “Excuse me? What do you mean I’ve bewitched him? I haven’t done a damn thing, other than stopping you from killing me and getting drunk off my ass. I didn’t ask Cadrieldur to come in here. Hell, I didn’t ask to be here, for that matter,” she said just as cold. 

“Soyez heureux que je ne vous déchire pas à part avec une pensée simple, tu petit merde (“Be glad I don’t rip you apart with a simple thought, you little shit”),” she added nastily in her own language as she approached him, glaring up into his eyes. 

“Watch your tone, milady, and your place. Regardless of who Gandalf claims you to be, I will not hesitate to silence you…permanently,” warned Legolas, moving closer until their bodies touched. He felt her power against him, flowing through him; was it possible that his body was craving for more contact? 

“Listen, you arrogant sonofabitch. Don’t try that intimidating shit on me, because it doesn’t work. I have taken on fools bigger than your scrawny little ass, and won every time. Now I strongly recommend that you make an about-face and get out, before I make you get out, you little prick,” Kiah threatened. 

A sneer marred his angelic face when Legolas retorted, “Idle threats from a foul-mouthed creature. Is this a habit you inherited from your witch of a mother?” His statement changed to shock instantly, for after he had said those words, the prince found himself flying backwards, his feet barely touching the floor. The suite door opened and he was left hovering at the threshold. 

Kiah’s anger spiked to a higher level from his careless words. Speaking through gritted teeth, she said softly, “My mother was murdered, you ignorant bastard,” and then “shoved” the prince into the hall, slamming the door shut in his face.