Two days had passed since Gimli's departure, and everything that needed to be done for The Annual Winter Celebration, had been done. The decorations had been placed around the halls and the throne room of King Thranduil's palace. The evening was warm, and the sky was clear. But a front moved in quickly from the Northern parts. At midnight, the air would become frigid, and frost would surely coat the grass instead of the soft drops of dew. It would be the first frost of the season.
Aragorn still remained in the palace. He enjoyed being with the Elves, having grown around them as a boy, in Rivendell. He spoke the language, he knew all of their ways, and he respected them. In turn, the Elves gave their respect to him as well. He had no reason to return to Gondor for at least another week. The atmosphere in Mirkwood was peaceful in all aspects.
Aragorn sat upright against the dark brown wooden bed frame. His legs stretched out, and crossed. His hands together in his lap, his eyes stared at the high ceiling. Vision out of focus, in a dreamy array of passing thoughts, like petals on the wind. Tomorrow would be the day of the celebration. He was, of course, welcomed to participate, and Legolas had mentioned that no one would mind that he was not an Elf. Afterall, he had aided the Elves in many situations. Why not stay awhile longer? No harm could come from a thing that everyone agreed on. Besides, Legolas could use the company. He had no real friends inside of Mirkwood. It would do Legolas good to have a kind face around him. Suddenly, a knock on the door pulled his mind back to his bedroom. Only two knocks. They were gentle, and calm.
"Come in, Legolas."
"Aragorn," The door opened, and Legolas slipped into the room, shutting it behind him. "What occupies you?"
"I was only thinking."
"Of what were your thoughts?" Legolas enquired.
"The celebration, the silence." Aragorn's calm manner, and tender nature made the thought of a conversation with him very desirable. If one wished to have a pleasant discussion, one could have it with Aragorn. If one wished to have company without words, one could have it, if one only asked. Often times, the latter was what Legolas was looking for. Now, he wished for almost both. Whatever their lingering came to, he would accept. The palace felt somehow odd after he awoke this morning. It may have been the changing seasons in the air, but he assumed not. Although, he had no clue what else it could be. Legolas gave his answer in a nod.
In serene silence, they spent most of the day together. In the evening the King called his heir away for some unknown reasons, and he returned to his friend much later, to bid him a good night. The day of the Annual Winter Celebration was upon them the very next morning. As predicted, by midnight the front had swept in from the north, and a thin layer of frost covered the grounds. The golden-red leaves on the trees seemed almost frozen in place. What remained of them. Snow began to fall by the wee hours of the morning, and in the glow of sunrise, one could look to see a beautiful white blanket glistening.
Just the sun shone, Legolas opened his eyes. Somewhere in the kingdom, a flute played meloncholy lullabys and sent them off on the breeze. The sound was soft, and far away. A pleasant awakening. He arose from his bed, and dressed for the day's occassion. His garments in silver, and his hair braided the usual Elven way. The buttons were white leaves, closely resembling those of Lothlórien. Legolas glanced in the mirror, before leaving to wake Aragorn. Lightly knocking, only twice, he opened the door before Aragorn gave a reply. A short grunt eminated from the pile of covers, as Legolas came close.
"The sun has risen, my friend. It is best we wake."
Slowly, Aragorn moved the covers and sat up. Squinting at the bright rays, he sighed.
"I am awake. I just wish to have slept more." He smiled, rubbing his eyes.
"You did not get adequate rest?" Legolas became concerned, as he had hoped that Aragorn would be well rested for the celebration.
"No, I did. It just would have felt much better to stay sleeping."
Legolas stared at him for a second, relieved, and Aragorn chuckled.
"I suppose it is because I'm human."
Legolas went to the door, looked back at him, "I will meet you in the throne room. You should dress." and he left. The winds outside the palace picked up gradually within the hour. It seemed that an unsuspecting thunderstorm was rolling in. Aragorn noticed it as he dressed, and allowed himself time to think clearly. Dark clouds loomed over the distant mountains. He wondered if this was a matter that the Elven King Thranduil might care to hear about. If so, the gate guards would surely tell him. Ignoring it, he tightened his belt. He chose not to wear the Elven garments that had been given to him. They were too snug a fit for him anyway. Leaving the room, he stopped to make sure he didn't forget his shoes this time. The strong brown boots were there. It was still the early morning after all.
He continued on his way to the throne room to see Legolas, and Thranduil. Two guards opened the doors for him, and he was met almost instantly by Legolas, who stepped out in front of him. King Thranduil sat upon his throne burning in silent anger. It was surprisingly obvious that he was upset. Aragorn looked questioningly at Legolas, and leaned in to whisper to him. "What has happened?" Before Legolas could say anything, Thranduil made sure he didn't.
"Legolas!" His voice was demanding, and unnervingly loud. Yet it was smooth, and laced with aggression.
Legolas turned around instantly to face him.
"Come here." Thranduil's eyes widened slightly at the sight of Aragorn standing there, and his eyes shot back to Legolas, who walked up to him with his head low.
"Yes, Ada."
"Carry out what I told you to do in the first place, and then when all is done, come back to me." His gaze narrowed in on Legolas, even though their eyes did not meet.
"I will, Ada."
"See to it." Grasping his red and silver trail, King Thranduil sat and watched his son leave through the nearby palace gates. He sipped his wine is displeasure. Aragorn walked up to the throne.
"Thranduil, of what need am I to you? You seem to have Legolas completing every task. Were we not suppose to complete them together?" Aragorn's manner calm, and respectful.
"That was the intended purpose of your visit. But my mind has changed, and I would like you to instead only visit." He crossed his legs, and focused his attention to another matter regarding the celebration as one from the kingdom proposed a suggestion about the decorations. Aragorn knew, of course, that he wasn't holding anything against him, but rather punishing Legolas for some reason. Seeing as he was no longer useful to Legolas, nor King Thranduil, he decided upon leaving the next morning. If he were to stay for the company of his friend, it would be a fruitless attempt. For now Legolas would surely be too busy to see him at all.
With that, Aragorn left to see to his things. He would gather what few of them he had brought, and have it ready for the trip home. It was disheartening to think he had come all this way for nothing, and that he may leave his friend in ill eyes. Of course, he would discuss this with Legolas if ever he had the chance. For now, all there was to do was wait. He chose not to leave right away, for the storm rolling in over the mountains did not give suitable conditions to travel in. So he would wait the night, and in that time, it should have passed right over Mirkwood and beyond.
