The following day brought Aragorn into further contact with the people of Mirkwood, including more of the prince's friends. Aragorn presented himself in his naturally kind manner whenever introduced to a new elf, which he made sure to demonstrate to put himself in good stead with the prince's close companions. He was ever eager to please his friend.
When evening fell in the realm, and the man and elf returned to the palace, there was a busier crowd of people in the central halls than usual. For the first time since he had arrived they were not eating in the royal family's private dining room; instead, they were to go with the many other occupants of the palace to the great hall to celebrate the Eve of Yule. On this day a feast was traditionally prepared for the royal family, the palace staff and their families, as well as any special guests invited for the occasion.
Aragorn entered the hall, following Legolas closely to their seats at the head table where King Thranduil was seated. In the midst of this great throng of elves, Aragorn began to feel quite self-conscious about being the only human amongst them. Most of these faces were completely unfamiliar. However, he decided to shake off his hesitation for the present, and he sat down to the meal with anticipation. The table was beautifully decorated with branches of holly – carefully scattered between the serving dishes – and gold candelabras provided merry light for the diners. The room took the man quite aback with its beauty.
Legolas and Aragorn were seated opposite the king, who tonight was flanked by two of his close friends – the captains of the royal guard. The princesses had arranged to sit with some fellow female elves further along the table, and so the two friends were placed in between senior household figures whom the prince was familiar with, but the ranger was not.
"I am looking forward to tonight, Strider," said the prince to his friend. "This is the first feast we will have of the season, and it is always enjoyable for being a lot more friendly and intimate than the one you will see tomorrow. On the first day of Yule is when it becomes hectic!"
"Your father forgot to mention this one, I was expecting it all to start tomorrow!" exclaimed the man, recalling the king's explanation of events on the first night of his stay.
"Ah, it starts tomorrow for the rest of the kingdom," explained Legolas slyly.
"He said the feasting will continue up until the New Year, did he not?"
Legolas answered affirmatively.
"So we will be having such extravagant dinners every night?" Aragorn asked in surprise.
"Yes, we will," the prince replied, "but in the coming days the whole of Mirkwood will be invited. Tonight is just for the household."
Aragorn gave his friend a strange look, causing Legolas to stare back quizzically and arch an eyebrow. "What is it?" he asked.
The ranger laughed and shook his head. "It just seems as if your whole kingdom revolves around feasting at the moment!"
"Only at Yule!" cried the prince, trying to defend his realm's tradition. "Besides, you have a celebration like this in Imladris – I know for I have been to one there. Perhaps it is not as spectacular as ours, but you do have a feast!"
"Yes, we do, in our sense of the word," the human responded with a grin.
In a moment someone had caught Legolas's eye from the far side of the table – a friend he had not seen for a while – and he became briefly preoccupied with his new conversation, although much of it was based on lip-reading over the ambient noise.
Aragorn looked around. Approaching from behind the row of dining tables with a full pitcher of wine, an elvish servant began to negotiate his way around the table, filling up the glasses of the guests.
Aragorn had heard the reputation of the elves of Mirkwood for being wine connoisseurs. He had enjoyed a small goblet with his meals every night so far at Thranduil's own table, and of course he expected that tonight there would be a greater deal of drinking. Unbeknownst to the ranger, however, this was not the usual house wine which had been served as an accomplice to his evening meals thus far. This was the Dorwinion: a very potent, very prized variety which the Wood-Elves imported and kept away in their cellars for special occasions such as tonight.
The ranger began to feel an odd sensation overcome his body within the first few mouthfuls of wine. He paid no heed to it, however; being as determined as anyone in the room to enjoy the evening to its full extent. Yet he was not fully aware of just how potent it was to Men.
"Anyway," said Legolas as he returned his attention to Aragorn, changing the conversation from its earlier topic, "I wonder what gifts we will receive for Yule tomorrow? I have yours ready in my room."
"So do I," replied Aragorn.
Legolas lifted his head from its tilted position to look straight at his friend. His expression changed instantly to one of sincerity. He had not expected the ranger to go to the lengths of bringing a gift for him – and carry it with him on the long journey from Imladris, no less! "You did not have to do that," he whispered disbelievingly.
"I did," said the man. "We have the same custom at home; and furthermore you can think of it as a token of thanks for your hospitality."
Legolas looked grateful but did not speak for a moment. "Very well," came his reply at last. "Thank you, mellon nin."
Several minutes later, after the first plates bearing the starter had been cleared, the main course was brought to the table. Trays of meats and perfectly cooked side dishes were placed in front of the guests. The ranger had emptied his glass and thanked the servant politely when it was promptly refilled.
Aragorn lifted up what was now his second glass of Dorwinion and took in a mouthful before tucking into the main dish. He suddenly found it difficult to pick up the silver utensils; his fingers were unusually weak. Finally after a short struggle, he set his face into an overt expression of determination and gripped the knife and fork with force to do his bidding.
Legolas noticed the rapid change in his friend's behaviour and felt at a loss for what to do. He could see what was happening to the ranger, but he hadn't expected him to get through this much wine in such a short period of time. They had only just finished the starter, after all. Legolas silently reprimanded himself for failing to warn his friend about the potency of the wine. He was sure this type was not consumed in Rivendell.
"Estel, are you all right?" He whispered into the man's ear.
Aragorn turned his head at the sound of his name spoken by the familiar voice, which cut through the haze of surrounding noise. He could not make out the face of the prince; everything was a blur and concentration was becoming impossible. The ranger knew he was not himself, but he was too far gone to be alarmed.
"Yes… why?" he answered; his speech was slow and significantly slurred.
Legolas simply shook his head, implying that no further exchange was needed. He watched the ranger for a moment before turning his head back, and before the man could notice the appearance of an inappropriate smile which threatened to take over the prince's face.
Aragorn tried to redirect his hazy focus from the prince's question back to his meal.
The elves seated across from the human began to notice his waning decorum too, and all found it very entertaining. One elf gave a nudge to his companion and whispered; the other looked over at Aragorn and covered their mouth to hide their mirth. Intoxication was something the people of Mirkwood rarely saw, for they were all accustomed to the various strong wines consumed regularly within their realm. Even the Dorwinion took a few glasses to dull their senses. The small group of elves were interested to see what would come of this.
Presently King Thranduil became aware of the excited whispers coming from one side of the table. Anxious to see the cause for this disruption at the table, he looked at the perpetrators and followed their line of sight, where his eyes fell upon Legolas and Strider. The ranger's head was swaying gently and his eyes were glazed, though sluggishly trying to focus on the table in front of him.
Legolas, it was obvious, had perceived Aragorn's condition but was serenely trying to ignore it and carry on with the main course; he even stopped to glance at his friend with a cheerful expression and make light remarks about the food. It wasn't clear to his father whether he was trying to pretend the human was not drunk to avert undue attention, or whether he was humouring himself in this odd situation.
Thranduil, however, was not amused in the slightest.
The king set his fork down and glanced sharply over to his son. He wanted to make eye contact with Legolas and let his displeasure be made known.
Legolas began to feel an intense gaze upon him and reluctantly looked up at his father, whom he knew was the source; it was only he who had the power to make the prince feel physically uncomfortable with just a glance. The piercing blue eyes which looked back at him conveyed all the annoyance felt within Thranduil's being. It was all the prince needed to know.
Legolas had hoped to let Strider finish the meal and hence minimise the spectacle, but his father was evidently not going to let this go. Besides, more of the guests around the table had noticed Aragorn's decreasing level of self-control, which was getting worse by the minute. The human didn't know exactly what was going on as the world spun around him, but as he struggled to keep hold of his thoughts he guessed it had something to do with the wine.
"Get him out," the king's eyes spoke firmly to his son.
Legolas began to rise slowly from his chair in acquiescence to his father's silent command.
Aragorn's head suddenly slumped to the side – the man being unable to hold it up any longer – and it hit the prince hard on his shoulder. Despite the brief wave of mirth that this elicited from the onlookers, Legolas realised it was for the best as the ranger could now lean against him for support.
"Mellon nin, I need you to stand up for me. I'm taking you back to your room," he whispered.
Aragorn slowly complied. He wanted to leave, too. Rising up with the support of the elf's arm wrapped securely under his own, he leaned against his friend and allowed himself to be guided slowly out of the dining hall.
Legolas could see the displeased look on his father's face from the corner of his eye as they walked away, but he chose to ignore it. It was probably best to avoid his father for now.
Thankfully the large hall was filled with chatter and the movement of busy servants circulating between tables, and the departure of the two figures went almost entirely unnoticed, save for the group of Elves who had been seated immediately near them at the head table.
Thranduil took a sip of the Dorwinion. A look of irritation creased his brow as he watched his son lead the ranger to his room.
Aragorn vaguely felt someone pulling him up by his arms. He tried to move his feet accordingly in their direction of travel, but his feet were weak and he really had no idea where they were going. His mind was too groggy to discern anything else.
Legolas pulled the man through the door of the guest chambers and into the room, taking him over to the bed. The candles had already been lit by a servant, which made it easier for him to see his way around the furniture. He slumped Aragorn onto the bed so that the man lay on his back.
"Oh Strider..." Legolas let out an amused sigh at the state of his friend.
Aragorn turned over with his eyes half open – as far as he could get them – in an effort to locate the person who had spoken his name.
"I'm sorry Estel, I should have warned you about the wine," the prince whispered sympathetically. "I think it is a lot stronger than what you have in Imladris." He gently pushed the ranger back down with one hand and went over to the basin for a glass of water. "And what with it being the Yule season, the palace staff have brought out the stronger vintage bottles; it's tradition."
The dim candlelight in the room was too bright for Aragorn in his current state and he squinted painfully at the figure leaning over him. He groaned a little as Legolas lifted his head and tipped the glass to his lips. The water was cool and refreshing, and the human realised how dehydrated he was as he finished the last drops. He let his head rest back on the soft bed and closed his eyes once more. Legolas put the empty glass back on the wash stand.
"Will you be changing out of your day clothes or staying as you are?"
"Staying..." murmured Aragorn. He had absolutely no desire to get up and change, it was far too much effort and all he wanted to do at this moment – and all he felt he could do – was sleep. "I'll change in the morning."
"All right then. Goodnight Estel, sleep well!" Legolas draped a blanket over his friend to keep him comfortably warm during the winter night. He went over to the candlesticks by the bed and blew the burning flames out. Taking one last look at the figure of the ranger lying atop the made bed, covered in the thick woollen blanket, he smiled to himself and shut the door quietly behind him as he left, not wishing to cause his friend any further pain by making a sound.
The prince came across his father early the next morning in the private corridor to their rooms. He knew the king would want to speak of the events of last night, and he was soon found to be correct: Thranduil's eyes set immediately on his son as he approached, and they held a serious motive in their cool azure depths.
"Good morning, Adar," said Legolas in an unnatural lively tone, in an effort to break the ice.
Thranduil avoided returning the greeting and jumped straight into the matter he felt was most important. "Legolas, what happened last night that caused your guest to become a laughing stock at my table?"
The prince's shoulders dropped slightly; there was no chance of distracting his father when Thranduil's mind was set. "I am sorry," he answered softly. "I'm afraid Strider had too much to drink; or rather, he did not seem to realise the amount he had was too much for him."
"I say to you Legolas, what kind of behaviour is that to display at a royal function?" the king said sternly.
"It was hardly his fault," the younger elf reasoned. "Strider isn't used to the Dorwinion; if anything it was my mistake, I should have warned him about it beforehand." Legolas's eyes flickered brightly. He regarded the whole situation with a mixture of pity, guilt and humour. He knew it would eventually become one of those events which they could look back on and laugh, but for now he was simply concerned with Aragorn's wellbeing and trying to reduce the mortification felt by his father. The events of last night did nothing to improve his father's cynical regard for the human.
Thranduil sighed. The lengths his son went to in order to defend the human – whom he barely knew in Thranduil's opinion – were surprising and difficult to work around.
"Did you manage to take him back to his room without a problem?" The king's tone was still one of displeasure, but his ire was starting to cool.
"Yes. Strider was awake when we arrived in his room, though barely. I thought it best to leave him to sleep."
"And how does he fare now?"
"He still sleeps, to my knowledge. Though I should go and see to his needs when he does awaken." Legolas glanced beyond his father's shoulder as if to indicate that was where he was headed.
The king paused. "Legolas," the elder elf started, making his position clear, "I do not approve of the ranger's manner last night, whether it was intentional or not. I expect decorum in my palace from everyone, be they visitor or worker." He sighed again. "But I did give you my word to ensure his comfort for the length of his stay," he added in a lower voice. Thranduil was not one to revoke a promise lightly.
He stopped to consider his next words. "Very well, my son, I shall overlook the events of last night. But you are to keep watch of him and take full responsibility for your guest. I do not wish to see that happen again," he said firmly.
"Yes Adar, I will." Legolas fully agreed with his father on this matter – he should have been more aware of Aragorn's situation, and furthermore thought to caution the ranger beforehand. He gave the king a small bow of thanks and began to leave, wishing to drop the subject as quickly as possible.
His father called out suddenly. It had just occurred to him what day it was. "Legolas?" his voice called in its strong tone, although the king now consciously tried to soften some of its edge.
The prince turned around wordlessly, looking back at his father.
"It is Yule today," he continued in a slightly wooden manner. "I have left your gift – and your cousins' gifts – in the drawing room. When you are ready, perhaps you will come down and open it."
The face of his son broke out into a grateful smile. "I will Adar, thank you. And I shall bring yours when I return." He then made his way to the guest quarters where his friend was lying in sleep.
Aragorn woke up slowly, his mind still hazy and his head burning. He raised one hand to his temple as if to rub away the pain. The only emotion he could discern at the moment was a feeling of embarrassment, although he did not immediately remember the cause of the feeling.
This morning was the first day of Yule, and the day on which the kingdom-wide celebrations officially started.
Aragorn raised his body slowly. He winced as the action strained his sensitive body and made his head spin violently. He pushed himself off the bed with great effort and shuffled over to the basin. The glass was eagerly filled up with cool water, which he then raised to his lips and downed.
A moment later there was a knock at the door. The man guessed who it must be and gave a hoarse answer to come in. The door was pushed hesitantly open, just enough to let the prince pass through before closing it again.
"How do you feel?" asked Legolas gently. He was aware of the volume of his voice and the effect it had on the ranger in his current state. Aragorn was still in his nightclothes and the elf realised he must have only woken a few minutes ago.
"I've had better days, Legolas," Aragorn said truthfully. "Thank you for coming to my aid last night – I seem to remember you tended to me in my room. Although I do not remember how I got here," he admitted.
"I'm sorry to say I had to drag you up here!" laughed the prince.
"What? No," Aragorn sighed. He groaned and rubbed his aching forehead. "Then I should apologise for my behaviour last night. I must have caused embarrassment to you – and the king!" he realised with disdain. The memory was slowly dawning on him.
"Do not worry yourself, Estel. You did not embarrass me at all, and I doubt that many people saw you. I'm sure even my father will see the humour of it in time."
"I just didn't realise the wine was so strong. I don't think I made it through the second glass," said Aragorn, struggling to remember the details of the previous day.
"Well, that is the Wood-Elves for you – we like our wine strong. I should be responsible if anyone; I failed to consider the fact that you were not accustomed to our tastes," said the prince. "But I suppose there was no real harm done. At least you were stopped before I had to pick you up from under the table!" he quipped.
Aragorn shook his head and sighed. He took a moment to figure out exactly what he needed to do this morning. "Right, well I must change into my day clothes. I cannot put off leaving this room any longer," he said at last. He knew he had overslept.
The prince rose from his seat on the bed in order to leave his friend to wash and dress. After opening the door again he turned back to the ranger. "I shall be in the drawing room with Luana and Lamiel, waiting to open our gifts. You can join us when you are ready!"
"I shall not keep you waiting too long," said Aragorn dryly. "I'll see you later!"
Legolas flashed a quick smile and closed the door.
The ranger looked down at his fingers as he fumbled to fold the blanket. He stopped his clumsy movements and dropped his head wearily. His face burned from more than just dehydration; the man pressed his eyes shut as he recalled fragments of the incident which had lead to his current state. He could visualise the eyes of elven faces looking at him with hesitation when he sat down to eat. No one had spoken to him during that evening, and the image he perceived of himself after the turn of events was not the impression he'd wanted to give them. And he had dug a deeper hole by causing embarrassment to himself, because of his naivety, and because of his lack of familiarity with the Wood-Elves and their ways, despite his efforts to understand them.
He could only hope the matter would soon be forgotten.
The prince arrived outside the door to the guest quarters and knocked enthusiastically with his slender hand. After a few moments, wherein Aragorn walked from his bedroom to the antechamber, the door was pulled open.
Aragorn smiled in greeting and regarded his friend with admiration. Legolas looked beyond doubt like an elven prince: dressed in a golden tunic with matching soft skin boots, and an embroidered belt secured around his waist, the crowning item was a gold-leaf circlet which ran across his forehead.
Legolas was equally impressed with Strider's apparel this evening. The man had put on the finest articles of clothing he had brought, in honour of the celebration of the first day of Yule. He donned a rich velvet tunic, its hems decorated with silver thread, and a shirt woven in an elaborate red check.
"Estel, I have never seen you looking so smart before!" Legolas remarked brightly, though speaking in honesty.
"Thank you, and I would say the same about you," the ranger answered with a smile. He recognised the compliment through the prince's quite exaggerated delivery.
"Are you ready? Shall we go down to take our places?" asked the elf. They were both due shortly downstairs for the feast.
"Yes, I am ready." Aragorn swallowed and walked briskly over to the dresser to give his hair a final brush through while the prince watched in amusement. He set the comb down and ushered his elven friend back out through the doorway.
The dining hall was even busier on this occasion than it was the previous night; elves had come here from all corners of the forest and it truly was a people's celebration. The tables had been rearranged and moved closer to the sides of the room, in order to allow for space to dance and socialise. A group of elves at one side played musical instruments in a melodious harmony.
Aragorn stepped slowly and timidly into the hall. He was very grateful to have his friend at his side at this moment. Although he barely recognised any individuals from the previous evening, his self-consciousness was heightened and he felt sure that he must be the centre of attention. The man's perceived human weakness and humiliation over last night still lingered in him.
Throughout the meal he made conversation only to the prince and his cousins. He deliberately avoided drinking more than half a glass of the Dorwinion this time, being keen to avoid repeating his previous misjudgement.
After the meal was cleared, the music grew distinctly louder and the guests gradually moved from their chairs to the large floor space on the other side of the hall, where the rounds of dancing began.
Lamiel asked Strider if he cared to dance – an invitation which gladly he accepted – and this put him in high spirits for a while. They performed a lively jig together, stepping and spinning to the tunes of the elvish fiddles. Luana partnered him for another. But soon afterwards his mind became distant, focusing on the people surrounding him instead of on his own thoughts and actions. The people, however, remained at a distance from him.
As the evening drew on, Aragorn bid his friends goodnight long before the general merrymaking had subsided.
"Goodnight Estel," replied Luana to his announcement with a tinge of hesitation. The four of them had been clustered together at one side of the room after becoming weary from dancing, and they had been making friendly chatter ever since. "Are you sure you will not stay a few minutes longer?" she asked.
"No, my lady," replied Aragorn with a tired smile that did not reach his eyes, "I am too worn out now. I've had plenty of excitement tonight and it has been very pleasurable, but I really need to retire." He bowed politely.
"Perhaps he still feels unwell from this morning," said Lamiel after he had left. However, in her heart she felt this was not the only reason for the man's hurried determination to leave the room.
The three elves glanced at each other with apprehension.
Contrary to her sister Luana, who had the more outgoing personality, Lamiel was the quieter figure and even assumed a motherly character at times. She would not pursue the ranger at this hour when he clearly wished to be in bed, but she sought to find Legolas to speak to him about her concern, which she was sure he shared.
The three elves had lingered in the great dining hall for a long time after Aragorn's departure, speaking to friends from other parts of the realm. They had only recently returned to their rooms for the night. Wrapped in a dressing gown she made her way to her cousin's chamber, hoping to confront Legolas over the behaviour of their friend before he fell asleep.
Unexpectedly she met the prince just as he was leaving his room. His look of gentle surprise melted into warm familiarity.
"Lamiel, what are you here for?" he asked tenderly.
"Legolas, did you perceive anything strange about Estel's demeanour these past few hours? He did not seem himself; he was preoccupied and distant, and clearly found it an effort to be glad tonight. And he seemed in quite a hurry to leave," she added.
The prince cast his eyes down to the floor. "Yes, I noticed it too. I think he was still recovering from the effects of the Dorwinion incident – as you know, he had a difficult morning, and I fear it was more than just physical discomfort that afflicted him." He looked up at the she-elf. "I was just about to go to Estel and ask if he wanted to talk, although he is likely to be asleep by now," said Legolas.
The princess nodded.
"I had a conversation with my father about it," he continued in admittance. "He was none too pleased as you can imagine, although he seems calmer now. I found it all quite harmless, but perhaps it had a greater effect on Estel than he was willing to say."
"Is that all that bothers him?" she enquired. It felt like there was something missing from the puzzle; it had to be more than mere embarrassment over a minor social incident to account for the sudden shift in his personality.
Legolas shook his head at his cousin's words, as curious for an answer as she was. "If only I knew," he said quietly.
