I get a lot of different reactions on the age in which I have placed Legolas… I tried to search for some cules on a general age for him, but there is no definite answer to this… I found a note on…. Wiki? I think… and it said he may have been the youngest elf in the series. I kinda went with that. I picture the Twins, Arwen and Legolas to be in the same age category; young elves that would be in various stages of the human equivalent of their twenties. In the Hobbit movies, Tauriel is placed at about 600 years old, so in my story she is about 700. I wanted to make Legolas closer to Tauriel's age… but honestly, age is not a major focal point. I mention it again in this chapter as a conversation filler. If you feel differently about Legolas' age, by all means, glance over it.

Also, towards the middle-ish of the chapter, I reference a scene that took place in the extended editions of LOTR (Return of the King, I think). If you are lost, that is where it is all coming from.

Chapter 21

The day came and went quickly. Tauriel had a wonderful walk with the queen and her friends and by the end of it she felt more relaxed than ever and had a rather hopeful outlook on her prospects. After the midday meal, Éomer's welcome continued as many guests drifted to various halls to catch up and talk. The rest of the day was not marked by any defining activity but the hours of daylight watched as old friends reunited after extended periods of not seeing each other. The afternoon passed into to darkness and another cheerful evening was enjoyed with good company and a hot dinner.

Legolas partook in none of it however. He did not feel the need to be present during the joyful time and went back to old habits as he imprisoned himself in his rooms. Elladan and Elrohir stopped by periodically throughout the day to check on the prince, but made no attempt to persuade him one way or another in regards to how he should be spending his time. After dinner was over, Elrohir found an opportunity to chat with a group of friends in the great hall and put the time to good use as he conversed for a while with Tauriel.

Elladan took it upon himself to stay with Legolas that night. After hearing of the events that had transpired the night before, he did not want to desert Legolas and leave him to face the phantoms in his sleep alone. After letting himself into the prince's room at a rather late hour, he found the blond elf asleep on the bed, but it was not long before his slumber became distraught. With gentle and soothing motions, Elladan roused Legolas, pulling him from the nightmare that wanted to torment the prince. The remaining hours of the night were spent trying to console the closed off and troubled Wood-elf who spoke little.

The morning of the much anticipated Last Harvest Feast had finally come, but it met enthusiastic people with a dreary, cold, wet day. Everyone kept themselves inside for the most part and a lazy calm seemed to take over Gondor as the usual lively streets of the kingdom were vacant while the constant cold drizzle held people confined to the interiors.

The palace however had become an odd mix of lethargic attitudes and nervous anticipation as the guest's moods seem to reflect the weather and the staff was frantically trying to get last minute tasks complete before the formal dinners and parties took place.

The smells of baked bread and roasting meats became stronger as the day progressed and there were trains of maids and servants dashing down the hallways and entering the dining room with armloads of table linens, fine china, and decorations for the festive occasion. The Great Hall of Fire was cleared of all furniture to make room for the dancing that would take place hours later and the white marble floors were polished until they sparkled with even the faintest glimmer of light.

The feasting began rather early and dinner was held while the gray sky still held some light. But as the dinner commenced, the clouds in the sky began to part and for the last few hours of the day, the dining hall was graced by a soft golden light that seemed to pick up everyone's energy with the exception of a lone blonde elf who sat in silence among a table full of chatter and joy.

Legolas kept his sights to his plate, but made no attempt to eat anything that was on it. His focus was yet again turned to the conversations around him and listened as Éomer, some high ranking men of the Riddermark, Gimli and Faramir talked a good distance away. Tauriel and Elrohir seemed to be in a conversation of their own and he turned his attentions to them to try and hear what they were discussing, but the feeling of eyes upon him caught his attention instead and he looked about the table.

He found Aragorn watching him from the end of the table where the king sat and a concerned glance was cast at the elf as the man knew Legolas was not himself and was still bothered by something. Legolas could not seem to put his worries behind him and even among grand company during a time of celebration, the elf was still noticeably depressed.

Legolas looked off quickly, severing the connection of concern. He did not want Aragorn to renew his worry, for this was supposed to be a holiday, not a pity party.

He looked down the table again as Tauriel made a comment that caused Elrohir to laugh lightly and he watched the two interact for a time. He was glad that the two were getting along, but could not fathom a reason as to why they would not. His moment of pleased approval became slightly tainted as he watched the way Elrohir lit up with every look he received from Tauriel, but then noticed that Tauriel did not react the same way. She was happy, but there was something missing that Elrohir possessed and Legolas could not discern if he was relieved or bothered by it.

With a light sigh to clear his thoughts, he turned once more to his plate and pushed the food around with his fork, pretending to be interested with the meal. He could feel eyes on him again, but he refused to look at Aragorn this time and tried to play off his distant mood with a front of casual glances about the table, trying to find a way to become distracted and find a reason to look happy.

The hour wore on and the guests became full. A transition period was held as the patrons went to their rooms to prepare for the dance and let their full bellies digest a little. The women changed into glittering gowns while the men dressed in their finest garb. Before too long, the guests began to trickle into Minas Tirith's Great Hall of Fire.

This space was not in its usual state. Ropes of forest leafed garland draped dramatically from the high ceiling and extra chandeliers were hung above and held dozens of candles perched on long fingering spokes. A few narrow tables lined the walls and held rows of fluted champagne glasses and the bubbling gold liquid sat ready for the commencement of the party.

After Aragorn lead a traditional ceremonial prayer, a toast was made to officially close out the prosperous seasons. The guests raised their glasses with a warm cheer. The tinkering of glass on glass was heard while everyone clinked cups. All went silent as the people drank the celebratory drink and the music began. The guests started to mingle as dance partners were picked out and the crowd began to move to the sound of the light melodies.

Legolas stood by a stone support pillar and watched as the people stepped and twirled around to the symphony of music playing at the front end of the Great Hall. He was not looking at any one couple in particular, but gazed at the entire dance floor while everyone moved as one entity. The sight was rather spectacular and the unity with each dance step was carried out with almost perfect time.

Over the heads of dancing people, he spotted Tauriel and the twins standing near the grand fireplace, each enjoying a glass of wine. They were relaxed while Elladan leaned his back against another stone pillar some distance away and each of them studied the goblets in their hands before they took a swig and exchanged remarks.

He was pulled from his observations however, at the soft touch of a hand being placed on the shoulder of his silken silver shirt. The hand lingered a moment as he turned quickly to see who it was that was trying to gain his attention.

Arwen stepped up beside him and looked up to the tall blond elf. She too was wearing silver in her gown, but each elf's attire had a different hue to it as Legolas' shirt bordered on a darker gray and Arwen's dress looked almost white. Upon her head was an elegant mithril crown that rested on top of her loose dark locks of hair that had delicate ringlets through the long tress. Her light blue eyes sparkled with cheer and she met his eyes with a warm, pleased smile.

"Another feast has come and gone!" Arwen spoke. "I am glad you are here to enjoy this with us Legolas."

"As am I." He returned the pleasant greeting to her before he looked back over the hall and continued to speak. "This holiday reminds me of the celebrations that used to take place in Mirkwood and since residing in Ithilien, I have always looked forward to this time, for it always gives me a small, familiar piece of home."

Arwen followed the prince's gaze and she too watched the assembly of people. "I know it is a human holiday, but since Estel has put me in charge of it, I have tried to incorporate some Elven touches to the celebration. I think it makes all the difference and I am always pleased with the turnout. Everyone seems to enjoy it."

The song ended and the sway of the room halted as people stood in place and clapped to each other and the musicians for the wondrous dance and the flawless musical performance. The soft clatter of instruments shifting around filled the hall as the entertainers turned the pages in their songbooks and the conductor began to tap out the beat of the next melody. Another ballad started and the people quickly got into position for the steps to resume and the dancing started all over again.

Arwen let out a slight gasp as her ears picked up on the first few notes of the three count beat and she recognized the tune instantly.

"This has always been a favorite song of mine!" Her face lit up with excitement. "I do not suppose you would care for a dance?" Arwen hinted for an invitation.

"With me?" Legolas asked and Arwen let out a small chuckle.

"Yes with you! Estel is busy talking." She nodded to a group of men who were found to the side of the room drinking full steins of mead and let out a roar of laughter. Among the gathering, Aragorn stood grinning with the rest of men around him.

Legolas looked back to Arwen and gave off a half-hearted smile, but he had no time to reply as Arwen took his faint expression as the invite she sought. Lightly, she took his hand and pulled him out amongst the people to begin the steps. They stood facing each other for a moment, trying to find the tempo of the waltz and stammered for a moment as they sought the right time to begin. With the next count of rhythm, they began to move to the familiar steps.

They stepped in close and spun around the room with the rest of the people; one of each of their hands clasped lightly together while Arwen placed her hand on the prince's shoulder and Legolas held his hand respectfully at her waist. They backed away briefly as the step called for the women to spin away and with the beat of the music, Arwen found herself at arm's length from Legolas then pulled back in close to resume the trotting pace of the steps that moved them fluidly through the room. Arwen leaned into the prince to talk to him as they gracefully fluttered about.

"You are quite a dancer! I fear Estel would not be thrilled to hear this, but when it comes to dancing, he is a bit clumsy." She smiled as the step called for another breakaway between dance partners and she looked to the prince who smiled back with caution. He countered that comment when Arwen was once again close to him.

"The man is one of the best healers… probably in all of Middle Earth. He is an exceptional warrior, a grand king, and I assume, a loving spouse and a devoted father…. I suppose if there is fault with his dancing, you should thank the Valar that *that* would be his only flaw…." The prince had to halt their conversation for a moment as the next step parted the two for a counted measure of time. When Arwen was close once more, he resumed.

"...However... I do agree with you. I have seen him dance at other occasions when he was in Mirkwood and you are right; he *is* a rather terrible dancer. But, I will say not a thing more on the matter so he does not overhear this and turn it into a debate… or a contest to drag Elladan and Elrohir into." He grinned to Arwen.

The queen giggled at the comment and continued the elegant swaying with the prince. They twirled here and there and departed from one another then rejoined just as the rest of the crowd did.

Arwen looked up to him for a moment. The prince was smiling, but it lacked the usual spark of happiness and his eyes were not matching the expression he wore. She sobered slightly at the observation and said no more as the two moved through the hall.

Legolas followed each step precisely as they danced in silence. His eyes began to roam the hall but, for what reason, he could not guess. Arwen pulled back and grabbed his hand while she ducked under his arm to twirl and doing so more gracefully than any of the other dancers.

Out of the corners of his eyes, Legolas caught a flash of auburn and he turned his face to see Tauriel being escorted from the dance hall with Elrohir closely behind.

The music in the room became quiet among his ears and the hall of dancing people was lost to his vision. Apprehension suddenly gripped him and he stopped his movements as his eyes watched the two disappear out of the room with a heavy heart.

"Legolas?" Arwen's cautious voice cut through the silence in his head. In an instant, the rush of music flooded his ears and his vision picked up on the twirling people about them. He jerked slightly in surprise after finding he had halted his movements and realized Arwen had noticed. Legolas shook off the stunned moment and stepped quickly back into the choreography of the song.

As Legolas took the lead of the dance once more, Arwen looked to the door where the prince had been gazing and found only a darkened corridor and began to ponder over what he had seen. She resumed the steps with the prince but his movements were stiff and he was no longer smiling.

"Legolas? Are you alright?" She asked. But the elf just took a deep breath and pushed a smile back across his face, banishing the look of disappointment he wore just before.

"You blame Strider for being a clumsy dancer, but I prove to be no better. I seem to have lost my count." He lied as he forced himself to relax and held his palm out once again to meet up with Arwen's as they clasped hands one more time. Arwen took a light step back into another lazy spin and did so with balletic movements. She became easily distracted with the comment and laughed at the statement.

"Strider..." She repeated the name and thought for a moment. "I know that is a name he acquired while being with the rangers, and the remaining Dunedain still call him that. But how come you still call him by that name?" She asked. She knew all of her husband's names from various periods of his life, but she never questioned them.

"The same reason you still call him Estel… It is the first name I have known him by and no matter his current name or title, my human brother will always be Strider." He said.

"You two really do have a special connection." She said fondly as the prince gave the queen a shallow dip to follow the rhythm. "When Estel and I married, we never really picked up any traditional in-laws since my father and brothers were also his. But-" the queen was pushed away and slid into a twirl of the song and rejoined Legolas with a sweet smile. "You have been the only exception to that."

"And I gained three siblings." The prince said lightly.

"Indeed! I am a little jealous though." Arwen said and smiled impishly. It was a look that he had seen on the twin's faces many times and knew that what she was going to say would be some sort of jest. "You took my title."

"Title?"

"I am no longer the baby elf of the family." She said and Legolas took a confused moment to ponder this. Their age difference was only marginal by elven standards and for the first time he became a bit more aware of this.

"If you want the title, please, keep it. That is not something I would care to carry."

"A title comes with truth... I would not deprive you of this… besides… haven't you always wanted a doting older sister?" She let off another musical laugh at her own joke.

Then, Legolas felt a tapping on his shoulder and he turned his head to find Aragorn stepping up behind him. His gray eyes were playful as he grinned to his long time friend.

"Excuse me good sir, I do not mean to be rude and untimely, but if you would allow it, I would like to cut in and have a dance with the lady."

Legolas did not miss a beat to the charade and looked to Arwen who was smiling at both of them. Legolas feigned suspiciousness and squinted his eyes for a moment.

"I suppose I can grant you one dance. But I will have you on your best behavior - no funny business." He turned to Arwen and spoke to her, though his tone was loud for all to hear. "My Lady, if he bothers you at all, just let me know and I can deal with him for you." Legolas looked back to Aragorn, suddenly taking on his roll of 'brother' as Arwen had called him earlier. Though his words were a bit stern, the smirking expression told Aragorn that Legolas was still playing along.

"I will be watching you intently... as an owl does a mouse…." Legolas winked quickly to Aragorn who gave the elf a good-natured sturdy pat on the back before Legolas stepped away and dodged the wafting steps of other couples as they continued the waltz.

He left the dance area and began to stroll about once again in search of a less crowded area to stand. Despite the jubilance in the hall, he could not help but feel the depression creep back and mixed with loneliness and disappointment while he went back to watching the people from afar.

He hated this.

This was supposed to be a celebration; a time to enjoy and indulge, yet he still felt just as miserable as ever. He could pretend to be happy, but deep down, pretending was not what he wanted. He longed to feel the real joy he was once able to obtain. But as the sea of people continued to move with the dancing and the occupants continued to party, he felt like he was separated from it, almost as though he were peering through a pane of thick glass that kept the happiness on the other side where it could be seen, but not reached. The only thing he could do was watch the world go by in front of him.

He looked back to the door where he had seen Tauriel and Elrohir leave and found he wished that the two would appear again, but chided himself even as he thought that. He looked away from the door quickly to keep himself out of their business. After all, he wanted them to get along, didn't he?

A Gondorian army captain passed by with a beautiful woman on his arm and they smiled brightly as they made their way to the dance floor. Legolas locked his eyes on the stitched white tree on the dark tunic and gulped as he suppressed a shudder.

A maid walked by and balanced a tray on her fingertips that held several goblets of wine to be passed around. As she walked past the elf, he reached for a glass and plucked it off the tray without the maid ever noticing. He swirled the wine in the glass a moment, contemplating if he should be drinking the heavy draught, but gave into the temptation and lifted the glass to his lips and sipped the garnet liquid.

The instant the refined drink reached his tongue, he tipped the glass a little further back and was no longer sipping at it, but gulped it down with a few swallows. He then carefully dabbed the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand as he rolled the stem of the glass between the fingers of his other, performing the mindless task without even realizing he was doing it.

He could feel an unnatural warmth beginning to spread through him rapidly. The alcohol from the wine was felt almost instantly for he had consumed next to nothing over the past few weeks and the potency of the drink was unhindered after it was guzzled. Along with the warming sensation, a pleasant relaxed calm began to work its way into his limbs and attacked the tautness that had taken control of his muscles. His troubles seemed to be more bearable at each passing moment and as a different maid passed by with another round of drinks, he grabbed a second glass while he set the empty one back on the tray with an easy single movement.

He did not drain the second glass for he knew having too much wine on an empty stomach could lead to some irrational actions, even though he knew his tolerance was far higher than the mortals around him. But the last thing he wanted to do was add any more humiliation to himself so he kept his drinking pace slow. He nursed the second glass and from time to time would take small sips to maintain the comfortable alcohol induced humm that was coursing through his body.

The songs were played one after another and the people continued their party. Legolas was now on his third glass of wine and remained standing in his place where he was among the celebrations, yet sufficiently tucked away to keep him content. His reservations on the light drinking were soon fading, and as he consumed more of the ruby drink, he felt certain he could finally enjoy the festivities with the growing unnatural, yet pleasant daze about him. He was already way more relaxed than he could ever remember being in recent times and he took the last swig of wine in his glass with a large gulp as he saw another tray making its way toward him to be dispersed among everyone. He did his usual and dropped off his now empty glass and picked up his fourth.

"Well, that wasn't very hard! There ya' are Laddie! I was just comin' out to find ya'!"

Legolas curiously turned on his heels to find Gimli approaching him. The dwarf had dressed as lavishly as the stout being had ever been and his wiry hair was well groomed and held the usual braids of a Dwarvish warrior, marking his greatness and stature.

"Good evening Gimli." The prince tilted his head in greeting as his friend stood beside him.

"Have ya' had enough of this ballroom glam yet?" The dwarf clasped his hands behind his back and watched the dizzying scene of circular twirling.

Legolas raised a brow at the dwarf in question.

"Ah, come on Laddie, let's lose the formalities an' go celebrate like men! Éomer has tapped into a barrel of ale in the kitchen cellar. A few of us are in there having quite the party of our own! I think Éomer wants a rematch to the drinking game between you and I an-"

"Éomer wants a rematch? Or *you* want a rematch?"

"Eehh, well, we were telling Faramir 'bout our friendly little drinkin' contest after the war at Helms Deep and I don't think Faramir believes Éomer to be tellin' the truth that you an' I can drink as much as the Rohan King remembers. I think Éomer wants a rematch between the two of us to prove Faramir wrong. And to be honest lad, I wouldn't mind engaging in another contest. Ya' know, it was the only thing ya' have been able to beat me at-"

"Don't even go there Master Dwarf! I've said it plenty of times before… you've cheated!" Legolas shot the dwarf a lopsided grin that was very unusual for the prince to be wearing. Gimli noted the prince's speech and it was not as fluid as it usually was and was close to slurring as the noble Wood-elf used undignified contractions as he spoke. The dwarf eyed the glass of wine in the elf's hand and smirked.

"Sounds ta' me you've gotten an early start on it already! I may be able to win this time an' you can't accuse me of cheating, for this was your own doing! Come, Master Elf! Even if ya' don't want ta' drink, at least come an' defend our story to add some validation with our claims."

Gimli moved off toward a small door in the corner of the hall and the elf watched him for a moment. Quickly, the prince threw his head back as he practically shot the glass of wine he still held and placed the empty goblet on a passing tray to be discarded. He walked quickly after Gimli and followed him down a gloomy stone tunnel that held a flight of steep stone steps. A cool waft of stale air drifted up the hall and as the prince descended down the first step, he could hear a thunderous boom of laughter. The men below cheered at some remark or action that was lost to the elf and dwarf who made their way into the converted private party room.

The small interior was nearly dark and packed inside was a decent crowd of soldiers belonging to both Éomer's contingent and the men of Gondor. All in all, about thirty men were gathered around a haphazard table constructed of no more than a barrel and a plank of wood from a broken shelf. The only light in the space emanated from a single tiny lantern that hung on a hook above their heads and faintly, one could see space was lined with wooden counter tops and storage shelves. They were packed full of a vast assortment of canned goods and other provisions for the long winter months ahead. Against the far wall, a large wooden keg rested on its side and a tap had been driven into the sturdy oak barrel. Stacks of extra mugs sat beside it, waiting to be filled.

Éomer was talking, but the moment the blond elf cautiously entered the room, the king stood from his makeshift seat on a burlap sack of dried beans and wove his way between occupants to greet the Elven prince with his emerald green cloak wafting in everyone's face as he moved in the small room.

"Why, here he is! Master Elf, Lord Legolas!" He stepped in front of the prince and clasped him on the shoulder, then pulled him forward into a single-armed sturdy hug much to the elf's surprise. "It seems I missed catching up with you yesterday when we arrived! How are you? It is great to see you!"

Legolas returned the greeting sluggishly. There was a droning alarm beginning to creep about him and his once pleasant feelings were being snuffed out by an uncomfortable air as his depression and apprehension came back with a sudden vengeance. He could not tell why he was plagued this way so suddenly and severely, but he forced as much of a warm greeting back to the King of Rohan and did his best to ignore the unusual screaming warning passing through his mind.

"Yes, I apologize I missed you yesterday. I heard you arrived, but was unable to see you."

"Ah, well, you are here now!" Éomer waved off the apology as he looked to Legolas while he spoke. He noted with ease the uncharacteristic appearance of the prince; He was dressed elegantly that promenaded his royal heritage, but he didn't look right. He was much thinner than he remembered the Wood-elf to be and dark circles under his eyes painted a picture of exhaustion and unease. Éomer cocked his head in notice.

"Faramir has been keeping me up to date on the latest news in Ithilien. It sounds as though things are going well and you are busier than ever! But, do trees really require so much work that you cannot find time to rest?! You look as though you could use a drink!" Éomer laughed light-heartedly as did the rest of the men, but Legolas was a bit miffed at the comment and merely shook his head.

Someone began speaking from the table and all looked in the direction of the lethargic and slurred voice that was directed at them.

"On that note… I've been told that you're a remarkable drinker!" Faramir grinned lazily as the Steward leaned on the table. Everything in his appearance stated that he was already close to over indulgence with the ale.

Éomer accepted two passed mugs of brew from one of his men and handed one to Legolas and the other to Gimli. The elf tried to refuse it, but the clunky metal cup was pushed into his hands. Had he not gripped it, Éomer would have let the mug fall to the floor. Legolas could feel the renewed effects from the last glass of wine he consumed much too fast and resolved himself to simply hold the mug for looks rather than drink it.

"So tell me, Legolas…" Faramir looked to the elf. "Is what they are stating true? Did you and Gimli really drink *that* much? I find it hard to believe you were still able to walk away after you had won… *IF* this grand fish-tale is true." He questioned. Skepticism found its way into his stare and he crossed his arms as he leaned back in his seat to regard the elf.

"Well… that depends…" Legolas stated as he looked to the mug in his hands. He recalled the game many years ago, but how many mugs they actually drank was a bit hard to remember. "How much do they claim we drank? We did consume enough to be rather muddled, but that might not mean anything as far as volume goes."

"These two-" Faramir pointed a finger and quickly shook his hand at the wrist between Éomer and Gimli. "-stated that there were mountains upon mountains of empty mugs at your stations!"

"Mountains?" Legolas quirked an eyebrow at the dwarf. "Well… they were not heaping mountains… but If I can recall correctly we each had about fifteen or so."

"Fifteen?... Fifteen *pints*?" Faramir questioned back and Legolas nodded his head. "...Why that would be far more than enough to put even my most tolerant man under the table!"

"Rather I should say, *I*... had fifteen…" Legolas looked down to the dwarf standing next to him with a smile that barely contained a smug smirk. "Gimli only had fourteen."

"Fourteen… *and a half*!" Gimli emphasized the last bit not letting the elf out do him by and notion of a significant count.

"Ah ha! And there you have it! Straight from the horse's- errr- elf's mouth! Did I not tell you?!" Éomer said triumphantly as his allegations were proven to be true.

"That was still by far a smaller amount to the *'mountains upon mountains'* of mugs they supposedly had." Faramir grumbled as he gave Éomer a proving statement and took another swig from his mug.

"Those were the dwarf's words, not my own!" Éomer defended.

"Well to one of… his height... it would appear to be mountains." Faramir gave his brother-in-law a hard time as he tried to find any excuse to point out flaws in the unbelievable story. Everyone, including Gimli, laughed at the barb and lifted the mugs to their lips.

Legolas looked around the group of men in surprise as the dwarf was not irked over the comment. Very few people could get away with such a statement and this proved to be the case either due to the fact that they were all good friends which kept the dwarf in good spirits, or Gimli was too drunk already to notice the actual meaning of the remark. From the looks of it, it seemed to be a combination of both.

"Well," Éomer broke the halt in conversation as everyone resumed drinking. "Now that we are all here, let us get this party into full swing? What say you?"

There was a general "here-here" shouted by everyone. The cheer became a large boom of noise as the men agreed to the king's proposition at different times with various levels of enthusiasm.

"Not me!" Faramir swiped his hands in front of him in a cut-off motion. "I have already had more than is good for myself. If I had any sort of sense, which I do, I would know when to stop… and I do believe I have seen that time come and go."

"Already?" Éomer questioned as there was doubtful disappointment found within the Steward's decision and Éomer made no attempt to hide it. "But the night is young yet and we have only just begun!"

"No, no. I am already pushing my luck as it is. I do not want to have an angry wife on my hands." Faramir was doing everything he could to nobly back out.

"The only reason Éowyn would be angry is that you pussed out on us and she realized her husband is not a true man!" Though he was now a king, Éomer's old ways were returning. He had spent many long hard years as a Leader of the Riddermark and a well known grand pastime of the bunch was in fact, drinking and taunting one another. As the Horse Master relaxed and proved to have cared to his royal duties earlier in the day, Éomer saw it fit to cut loose and act in a way he was rarely allowed to do so, even in his own kingdom.

Gawking gasps and uncomfortable chuckles filled the room as Faramir shot Éomer a baffled look. The Steward could not believe what was just said to him. In his defiant ways, Faramir reached for another mug with dramatic actions and jumped his eyebrows to Éomer, proving he was not backing down and daring him to say another remark like that.

"That is more like it!" Éomer approved.

Legolas stood at the back of the room watching the whole scene unfold and he couldn't help but notice the similarities transpiring between Éomer and Faramir that were also found in the joking antics of Elladan and Elrohir. As true brothers would, they were constantly pushing each other and trying to make themselves look better than the other. Faramir and Éowyn had not been married more than eight years, but the brother-in-laws were acting as though they were related by blood and had been contending between each other their whole lives. It was quite interesting to watch.

"Now what do you say we get this drinking game started, hum?" Éomer slammed his mug on the table and the foaming liquid inside sloshed upon the table as the king rubbed his hands together in pleased anticipation. "Same rules as last time? Last one standing wins?!" his statements were closer to questions, checking to see if there were any objections to how the simple game was to be played.

The tiny room exploded in a rush of activity as a few men made themselves useful and began to fill the mugs up with ale. Éomer shrugged out of his cloak and draped it over a shelf at a far wall to get comfortable.

"And who will be joining this game of holding liquor?" Éomer asked the room, but other than the dwarf, no one stepped up. The riders from Rohan would always be happy to drink with their king, but *against* him was another matter. The soldiers of Gondor remained quiet too, for they did not think it wise to act in that sort of manner in front of their high Lord and Steward. "Will it be just a contest between the four noble men?"

"Aye!" The dwarf cheered and stepped up to the table and placed his hands on top of the wooden surface with a thud to rise to the occasion and intimidate the competition.

Éomer looked to Faramir who nodded uncertainly. He did not want to partake in this, especially in his already intoxicated state, but backing down in front of his brother-in-law was not a better choice for his pride and he slowly agreed.

"And what say you Master Elf?" Éomer peered over the heads of the men to the elf who stood closer to the back of the room and had been relatively quiet the whole time.

"Nay, I am quite fine just watching-" Legolas held his free hand up trying to surrender, but Éomer would have none of it.

"Nonsense! I insist! You must join us! Come, it is a challenge among the High Ranks!" Éomer motioned with his hand for the elf to step forward and when the elf did not move, Éomer's men stepped in to carry out their king's bidding. The men began to coral the elf towards the table and Faramir stood from his set to make more room for the extra people to stand. As the Steward stood, Legolas caught sight of his attire.

Faramir was dressed in his finest clothing, but he still clad himself proudly in his Gondorian jerkin. His ceremonial shirt was even more grand than the everyday garb and was made of the darkest woven wool. Stitched in threads of silken silver, was the high and mighty White Tree of Gondor. The small lantern shed its light softly over the occupants and the luminescence of the strands caught the faint glow in the room.

The warning Legolas felt flared into alarm as the hands that gripped him suddenly felt like harsh jerks of lustful desperation while the men closed in around him. The prince's heart began to gallop and he forced his stunned body to begin moving and fight. He dropped the mug of ale he was holding and started to resist. He pushed back to break free, but the hands held him tighter and pulled at him, forcing him to do what they wanted.

The elf's panic deepened and he could no longer think rationally. He could not see the friendly people around him and in his own eyes he saw strangers who wanted him. His surroundings changed and he found himself being dragged to the center of the dimly lit space of a worn-down abandoned store.

Legolas dug his heels into the stone floor, but his boots found no purchase on the smooth surface and he lost his ground as he was pulled forward. He tried to twist away, but the men thought him to be playing coy and didn't let up in the slightest as they eagerly pressed the elf prince forward to his awaited edge of the table. The group of men parted while the resisting elf was hauled forward.

The look of horror in Legolas' face was lost on the king as his attention was divided between the company already around the table. Éomer tediously inspected the levels of mead in each cup to ensure a fair game while giving light orders to complete the setup. The king of Rohan dimly realized Legolas was taking a long time to gain the table and Éomer reached out blindly to help encourage Legolas to come forward. However, the man kept his eyes on Faramir who was in the process of handing him more full steins to be dispersed at each station.

The elf was pushed towards Éomer's reaching hand and the king gripped Legolas' arm lightly. He could feel the tense movements coming from the elf as the man aided his soldiers in pulling the elf to the table. Éomer looked to Legolas briefly with a grin, but in a split second he saw terror in the wide blue eyes of the elf.

Suddenly, Éomer found the room oddly spinning in a flash, but in the next moment, Éomer found himself on the floor among a disassembled table and spilt ale. He could not comprehend how he had gotten there and sat among the spilled drink, dumbfounded while holding his throbbing cheek.

Legolas had seen his opportunity to escape his captors. He stepped forward quickly and delivered a quick punch, sending the man straight into the wooden table. The stunned soldiers halted all movement as they watched everything transpire and the elf was able to push past them quickly. He made for the stairwell and darted up the passage.

Faramir helped Éomer to his feet and the king looked around for the elf, but saw a swish of golden hair zip up the stairs. Though he did not fully comprehend what just happened, he knew something to be amiss. Once he was sure that the broken table had not hurt anyone, he too took off in a hurry after the fleeing elf. It was obvious Legoals was in distress, but why Éomer could not fathom and the king made haste to rectify the situation. Gimli had left as well and was making his way up the steps, but the former Rohirrim Rider had longer strides and quickly surpassed the dwarf in the narrow hall.

Legolas ran up the flight of stairs as fast as he could, jumping the stone landings in sets of two or even three at a time. He spilled out into the Hall of Fire where the ball was still being held and the elf froze again as his senses were distorted further.

The music in the hall became flat and slow, sarcastically keeping a steady swing with haunted notes. The spinning people slowed with the music and as the twirling people caught sight of him, they smiled.

But the expressions morphed into sneers. They were now laughing… laughing at him as they could clearly see his troubles which gave them reasons to laugh. The prickling sensation of sweat could be felt all over his trembling body and as he gasped for air, the recognizable lightheaded feeling began to claim him at this untimely moment.

The stairwell was filled with concerned shouts, and Legolas could hear Éomer along with a few others calling out, begging him to halt. The elf sought the exit of the hall swiftly and took off once more just as Éomer gained the last step with Gimli a single pace behind him.

"Wait! Prince Legolas! I did not mean-" Éomer called out over the loud music and talking of the hall, but Gimli gave the king a firm jerk, halting the plea.

"Let him go Lad. There will be no talkin' to him right now."

"What happened?! Is he alright?"

"This was not your doing Éomer. Just let him be. I'll go see if I can find him, but do not fret over this."

With a sigh to gather up his determination, Gimli calmly left the hall without much notice and made his way towards the prince's rooms.