Legolas was almost vibrating with excitement. Nothing this exciting had happened to him in many years. The feast would have enough food to feed the whole kingdom to bursting, and enough wine to make a lake and never reach the bottom would be within arms-reach at all times. The air would be filled with flamboyant laughter and jokes. He could hardly wait. Mirkwood had been declining long before its fall. His father's heart break over his wife's murder weighed heavily on his aging body and the Great King's mind could not deal with the stress many decades of grief had placed upon him.

The walls of the castle that once reflected light and life had darkened, becoming a hollow shell of its once glorious self. There was no more laughter. No more balls or feasts. Mirkwood castle became a place of business matters and nothing more. Legolas shook away the dark thoughts. He would enjoy the feast tonight; let his soul relish in the life of it.

He quickly laid out Aragorn's formal ensemble before hurriedly getting dressed himself in the clothing he had been provided. The leggings were light green, hidden completely by the silver robe that came to the floor. It was bound together in the back, the small buttons securely seated within their individual loop of fabric. He tied the thick piece of cloth that matched the color of his leggings around his middle, cinching the robe at his thin waist. He was glad he had already spent the time to braid his hair beforehand for Legolas could hear the sounds of Aragorn getting out of the bath. He slipped his feet into the silver slippers and left the room so his master could change.

A mirror hanging at the end of the hall gave Legolas the ability to admire himself. The clothing fit him perfectly and set off the pale color of his hair. He had not worn such articles of attire since he had become slave to the Rivendell household. His usual garb was cheaply made and ill-fitting to his lithe body. The collar was the only piece that was fit for a prince. A slave prince.

Aragorn emerged from his chambers, fully dressed for the feast. His wear was similar to Legolas' but instead of the light green, he had full silver. He had an intricately made crown settled atop his dark hair. The crown was made of silver metal leaves welded together in a circle.

"Admiring yourself in the mirror then, Legolas?"

"Only admiring the wonderful clothing that was provided for me, My Lord."

"My Father demanded everyone in attendance wear fine attire to the feast tonight. He had the clothing made and had it delivered this morning, specifically for you." Legolas was shocked. Lord Elrond, though not cruel, struck him as someone who did not like him. It seems he had been too quick to judge the King of Rivendell.

"Come. We do not wish to be late." They hurried down to the gathering room. The room was painstakingly arranged for the feast. Three tables, made from the wood of old pines and almost as long as the room itself, were set on one side. The other side was empty to allow dancing and festivities. For now, it was filled with people ambling about and talking amongst each other. The curtains were drawn and the doors open, allowing the cool breeze of the night to fill the room, and allowing access to the patio. Servants bustled about, providing drinks to the guests.

"Ion-nin! You have arrived!" Lord Elrond strode over, clasping his son on the shoulder and handing him his first glass of wine. "Come, many are wishing to talk with you." Legolas followed behind as Aragorn was brought from person to person, thanking them for coming and talking with them briefly before being swept off to someone else. Legolas stiffened slightly as Aragorn was led to Lord Katar.

"Excuse me ion-nin. I will inquire as to the meal." He left with a sweep of his grand robes, leaving them with the council member.

"Prince Aragorn. I see you have brought your slave in attendance. I hope he will behave himself tonight." The Prince, though weighted down with several glasses of wine, bristled at the words.

"I assure you. He will not harm you or anyone else tonight."

"How can you be so certain? He acts as a wild animal might. Untamed."

"He is not an animal. He is a person and can think for himself." Lord Katar's eyes flashed with mischievousness.

"And what word will you give me to assure me no harm will come to me tonight?" Aragorn wracked his muddled mind to come up with something worthy of silencing the elf. The wine seemed to have gone to his head, for the answer he gave was out of his mouth without his consent.

"If he attacks you, I give you my word, as Prince of Rivendell, that he will be beat within an inch of his life and let him rot in the dungeons until he begs your forgiveness." Legolas looked at him in utter shock. How could he say such a thing? Aragorn looked back at him, pleading with his eyes for forgiveness. Lord Katar turned to the king's guards, standing a few feet away. They had stopped conversing with one another as they heard their Prince give a royal command.

"Did you hear that? If that slave touches me, you have your orders." Aragorn fervently wished he could take it back, but a royal command could not be unsaid. Just then, the dinner bell rang and everyone massed to their seats.

Legolas took his place, standing behind his master's chair. His stomach rumbled its message of hunger and he placed his hand on it to quill its fit. He had not eaten all day, too busy completing the chores so that he could ready himself for the feast. He told himself he would eat all that his heart desired after the dinner. While he was not allowed to eat with the others, being a slave, but he was allowed his choice of what was not eaten by the guests later. Since there was more than enough food, he knew it would be plentiful pickings indeed.

Lord Elrond motioned once everyone was in place, and everyone sat. The room was soon once again filled with talking and the sounds of a meal. Legolas looked around the room as he waited to refill Aragorn's cup, his eyes settling on Lord Katar. He was straight at him, sneering. He got up, sauntering over to the slave. Aragorn was eating like a starved animal, not seeing the elf rise.

"I hope Aragorn likes his wine. It might prove to be rather…potent tonight." Legolas was confused. The way the council member said it set his senses on high alert.

"Why would you say that, My Lord?" Lord Katar smiled devilishly.

"Oh, you shall see soon enough."

"What have you done to it?" Legolas glanced at the pitcher in his hands with horror, but saw nothing wrong with it. The elf's smile grew, if possible.

"Me? Nothing a slave can prove. I hope The Prince is as hardy as they say he is." Protection for his friend drove Legolas' actions as he lunged forward. He grabbed the elf by the tunic, lifting him into the air.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!" The room went deadly silent as his voice boomed out. Lord Elrond rose out of his chair.

"What is the meaning of this?" He cried in outrage.

"Your majesty, this salve is deranged. He accused me falsely and has attacked unprovoked."

"Aragorn, handle your slave this instant!" He looked down at his son. Aragorn was slouched forward in his chair, his head cushioned by the hard wood.

"Ion-nin?" He bent down, grasping his son's shoulders and shaking him. The Prince's head rolled limply on his shoulders.

"Iqista! I need a healer!" The room erupted into chaos. Elves were screaming and scrambling about, trying to seek out the threat. Legolas leaped on Lord Katar, grabbing his head and banging it onto the floor.

"What have you done! Where is the cure! I will slay you like a pig if you do not tell me how to help him!" Suddenly, many hands grasped the slave, yanking him off of the councilman. He fought against the guards frantically.

"Release me! Aragorn needs help! I have to find out what-" The rest of his words were cut off as someone shoved a rag into his mouth, effectively silencing his pleas. They secured his hands behind his back and dragged him out of the room. Legolas flailed helplessly, watching Lord Katar get up and smile at him as he was yanked around the corner and out of sight.

o-o-o-o-o

Bet you didn't see that coming. Now, Lord Elrond is not bad. He is King, so he is tough, but has not been openly rude to Legolas. Thranduil on the other hand is consumed by anger and grief from his wife's death. R&R.