He sat, drumming his long fingers on the linen-covered table, wishing he was anywhere but here. He was so un-entertained that he regressed to musing about the beauty of the table being masked by the cloth atop it. The mahogany table was well crafted, but the blond and blue-eyed figure much preferred the exquisite tree it came from. They surrounded his own home that lay so far from his current lodgings: the home of the new king of Gondor, Aragorn son of Arathorn, also known as Strider the Ranger, who was his travel and war companion of late.
The elf contemplated his current situation with wry amusement. The King and his Elven Queen Arwen were occupied by various noble –men and –women and could not see his current position. How easy it would be to just slip away, perhaps to the stable to visit Arod, his faithful horse, gifted to him by the Riders of Rohan, who carried him through many an important battle. He however knew the Lady Arwen well and how she would lecture him that they were representing the Elven race, having most of their kin gone across the sea, and that his manners were being sacrificed for selfish reasons. Hearing her normally kind voice reproach him in his head, the elf sat a bit straighter in his chair and put on a façade of pleasant enjoyment as he gracefully inclined his head toward two passing noblemen.
Ah yet another reason to leave, he thought grimly, as the two gave him the barest attention possible without being rude. Though the Elves fought and died alongside men, they were still not trusted, because of man's natural insecurity. Men were more social than anyone else and they took offense long ago because the Elves keep to themselves, being private people. The humans took this to mean that the Elves thought themselves superior and in turn snubbed them constantly.
The women of the court were no better. They were all well off in the way of looks, that being the most important thing that occupied their minds. Their styles changed more often than the phases of the moon, and their affections even sooner. Almost all had approached him at one point during the evening, recognizing him as the "gorgeous war hero" who was friends with the king. What better way to improve social standard than to marry one so well connected. Then again, once meeting him they realized he was more than a shield and a face and too much effort to be worth it. The elf had quickly caught on that complexity repelled the women of the court, and that an empty head and a full purse were worth a lot more in their hearts.
Had the King been aware of the superficiality of his court he would be appalled, but being new in the business he had yet to meet all of his subjects. Until the distinction between the selfish and the good-at-heart, the blonde was forced to mingle amongst them all. Meaningful conversation was unreal and the best thing to occupy his mind was the table. Saddened to the point of amusement at his situation, the elf had given up on actually enjoying his evening. The King however, saw a different view.
Even without the crowds parting for them, the elf heard his friend and the Lady Arwen approaching him, along with another. Assuming he would be entertaining yet another senseless lady, the blonde straightened, placed his left hand across his chest and bowed to the monarchs.
"Lady Arwen, King Aragorn, forgive me if I take my leave. Your so-called Imperial dining menu disagrees with my still mending stomach" the graceful blond voiced quietly as he carefully by quickly backed away from the ever-growing crowd.
The King and Queen followed the retreating figure with their eyes and then shared an amused look between each other. They would have a long talk with Legolas in the morning, preferably in front of their half-elven son to whom Legolas gave etiquette lessons.