Glorfindel smiled as he ushered everyone to their places.

'As you can see, we've tried to keep in mind what you were probably used to in the forest. So we're serving traditional moss beer with the meal and I managed to source a bottle or two of wine made from the lichen that only grows on the oldest forest oaks… and it wasn't easy, I can tell you!'

'You should not have gone to such trouble,' Thranduil murmured with a barely imperceptible shudder.

'Well, didn't want you thinking we couldn't host a dinner suitable for an Elvenking or two…' Glorfindel said as Bruiven and Lalbes entered and placed bowls for everyone. 'We've done our best to keep it authentic… ah, Bird's Nest Soup…'

'Really?' Govon muttered.

'Well… by the time the birds had finished with them they were looking a little tired,' Glorfindel replied. 'Still. You can do a lot with seasoning, can't you? Did you have this problem at home?'

'It's not something I ever remember eating at home,' Legolas admitted.

'No? With all those lovely trees…? Well, maybe you had the wrong sort of birds in your forest…'

Ecthelion hid his smile in a mouthful of soup; it had proved to be nothing worse than mushroom, but with the addition of a swirl of fine, tangled noodles lurking amongst the broth.

'It's delicious,' Erymes said firmly, favouring Thranduil with a baleful glare. 'Don't let it go cold now, ion-nin!'

With his mother's eyes on him and the not-entirely surreptitious observation of almost everyone else, Thranduil had no choice but to comply.

'It must be said, it is better than any I have eaten in a long while…'

'Try some wine,' Nestoril said, eyes twinkling.

'Must I…?'

Ecthelion turned curious eyes towards his husband as he picked up his own glass and swirled it; the fragrance was that of one of their reasonably good reds, but the colour had been altered to a dark and dangerous purple.

'Blackberries,' Glorfindel whispered. 'Oh, and… perhaps just a little bit of Cook's gravy browning, it doesn't taste of anything…'

'If this is what you have done to make the first course more wood-elf friendly, dare I ask…?'

'Let's just say I've made suggestions that will lead to a complete and authentic wood-elf dining experience… and make sure you keep room for dessert!'

Fin smiled and winked and turned his attention to the soup, while Ecthelion found himself drawn into genteel conversation with Lady Erymes about how living by the sea suited them; it was a safe topic, and filled in the time while everyone plucked up the courage to sample the beer and sip at the wine in their glasses.

There was a sense almost of achievement around the table as the first course was cleared, underlain with an anxious expectation of what was coming. Only Oropher seemed unmoved, his attention divided between his meal and his wife; presumably so many years spent in the Halls away from actual food had numbed his expectations of what a decent meal should look like.

A sigh of relief ran round the table as the main course was served – nothing more than good venison and roasted roots, although there was minor consternation when a serving spoon disturbed something rather spider-like lurking in the gravy.

'Onions,' Glorfindel explained. 'We don't get very large spiders around here, and you wouldn't believe how difficult it's been to gather enough for everyone, so Cook joined some onions together for effect. And flavour.'

'But… you do not mean that you… actual spiders?' Nestoril asked.

'Oh, not in the gravy.'

'Not…?'

'Were arachnids often eaten at court?' Ecthelion asked. 'I understand they grew to considerable size and would make a hearty meal…'

'Fortunately, we were never so pressed as to need to serve such meats in the dining hall,' Thranduil said. 'And I am not quite sure from whence your ideas have come…'

Glorfindel slid his eyes towards Oropher and away again in an instant, as if trying not to look at the old king and thereby giving Thranduil an entirely erroneous idea of with whom these strange notions could have originated.

'Roast spider featured quite often on the guard flets, though,' Govon said. 'You could be in post for months on end, and a bit of fresh meat was nice, for a change.'

'Nice?' Legolas said, shaking his head. 'I had the misfortune to have to eat spider once – it was disgusting!'

'Oh, you must have been unlucky,' Govon said. 'Sometimes, if you got a guard spider, they could be a bit on the bitter side…'

'Really, though, Glorfindel, I know you never ate spider at our tables!' Legolas went on.

'It was a long time ago,' Fin replied with an easy wave of the hand. 'I think I remember the wine mostly.'

'And not the beer?'

Glorfindel pretended not to hear, and Ecthelion smiled as his husband tossed his hair and continued.

'More gravy, anyone? More venison?'

'Glad you're here tonight,' Oropher said, nodding towards Erymes. 'These two don't often put on a proper dinner… Lords of Gondolin they were, you wouldn't know from how they live…'

'We do like to live simply, for the most part,' Ecthelion admitted. 'But it is an honour to have such distinguished guests; it is to be hoped our humble kitchens have proved adequate.'

'The venison is delicious,' Erymes said. 'And for you to organise so fine a meal at such short notice is very good of you.'

'It's our pleasure,' Glorfindel said. 'In fact, I really enjoyed helping catch – ah – forage for some of the ingredients…'

He gave a benign smile as the dishes were cleared. More wine was brought and several large, covered dishes were placed on the table. Govon, curious, lifted the edge of the dish nearest him to peer underneath.

'Careful!' Glorfindel said. 'Not sure if they've stopped moving yet…'

'What?' Legolas demanded, and lifted the lid completely away.

Before him lay a platter of glistening spiders with short, round bodies and slender, attenuated limbs that would have covered the palm of the hand if extended. They were piled in a fragile heap and as Legolas moved back, the transferred motion sent them shivering and trembling.

'Help yourself, why not?' Glorfindel said.

The prince reached tentatively out, reassured by the sweet fragrance coming from the dish.

'Are they...? Sugar and honey, did someone dip…?'

He picked one of the spiders up by a leg with distrustful care.

'Now you've taken one, you'll have to eat it, you know.' Govon said.

'Yes, Lady Yavanna takes a very dim view of her creations being disrespected,' Glorfindel said. 'But there are serving spoons, you know; we're not utter savages!'

Wielding a pair of tongs, he looked at Lady Erymes with a question. She raised an eyebrow in challenge, smiling, and gestured for him to serve her.

'Cherries and raisins dipped in honey and coated in melted sugar to hold them together!' she said once she had disposed of the morsel. 'How clever! And the legs made from more spun sugar? Yet I am almost disappointed it is not actual spiders!'

'Cook does like to play with hot sweet things,' Glorfindel said. 'Of course not actual spiders! As I say, it would have taken far too long to collect enough… and then there's the Lady of the Living Things to contend with, some things are meant to be eaten by elves, and other things aren't. Here, the spiders are for birds and such to feed on.'

'I want to know what's under here,' Nestoril said, tapping a second cover.

'Ah, you'll like these.' Fin removed the lid with a flourish to reveal more spider-shapes, these larger than the first. 'Honeyed date bodies and biscuit limbs.'

'Now, that sounds like the sort of spider I wouldn't have minded eating,' Legolas said. 'And this one isn't bad, really. Crunchy, not very substantial, though. Just there and gone again.'

'Have another,' Glorfindel suggested. 'There are plenty.'

He passed around the platters, dropping spiders on plates, finally settling in his seat again and offering the dish to Ecthelion with a flutter of his lashes.

'Really, Fin, poor Cook, I am sure she will resign after this…!'

Fin laughed. 'No, when I told her what, and why, she shrieked with laughter. Wait until you see the cake, anyway…'

'I must thank her for all her efforts… cake? There is cake?'

'Yes, Lalbes will serve it with hot drinks once we've done with the sweets.'

'Let me guess… is it shaped like a spider?'

'No, of course not. Shaped like a tree. With spiders in, oh, and little cocoons hanging from the branches, and the spiders' abdomens crunch when you bite into them, but they're filled with…'

'Better not tell me, my beloved light. Not if you wish me to actually eat one.'

'…custard and cream, of just the right consistency to make a bit of goo in the mouth…'

'Fin!'

'Oh, and a mixture of jam with the cream, for extra realism…'

The cake, however, was a success, an entertaining end to the meal, and if Thranduil had said little throughout the evening, what he did say had been polite, at least. After his second slice of cake, and once the company had moved through into the sitting room where more wine – of a more normal hue, this time, was served, the Elvenking even ventured to say how pleasant the meal had been.

'Of course, it is not what I have been used to,' he said.

'Please ignore my husband,' Nestoril put in, placing a hand on Thranduil's arm. 'When we were reunited – only a few months ago, in fact – his meal of choice at the time was pizza and chips…'

'Pizza?' Glorfindel queried.

'It's a bit like cheese on toast with tomatoes and other bits and pieces thrown in,' Legolas said.

'And you two were just as bad with your takeaways!' Nestoril continued. 'It's a good thing we sailed, to get you all into eating properly again!'

'And my husband talks the kitchens into serving you birds' nests and spiders,' Ecthelion said apologetically.

'Ah, but it was delicious, whatever you claimed it to be! For a moment, I really thought that was a spider in the gravy…'

'No, I promise no spiders were harmed in the making of tonight's dinner. Although a few of the garden ones were a bit disconcerted – there was Cook and Lalbes staring at them just to see how they were put together, sort of thing,' Glorfindel said. 'There wasn't even any moss in the beer. And…'

He broke off as he heard his name mentioned in Oropher's voice.

'…Glorfindel and Ecthelion are married, I thought I had better mention it in case you did not know that they live together as such,' the old king was saying to Erymes. 'I know it is unnatural, but they are my friends and I have learned to look away…'

Ecthelion drew close to Glorfindel's side.

'This from the fellow who made a pass at you?' Fin murmured.

'Oh, my light, we know he was just… new-eyed, and all… I could wish he had said nothing, though…'

There was a plaintive note to Thel's voice, making Fin look more closely at his beloved. A tremble of lip, a convulsive swallow…

'…but I am sure he means nothing by it…'

'Ada!' Thranduil said, too loudly, and Thel's eyes closed in resignation as he realised that what may have passed as a small, private lapse was now like to be aired loud and long… 'Ada, you cannot say such things, these alternative choices are no longer seen as inappropriate…'

'And there are new words now, Daerada,' Legolas said with an anxious glance at his own spouse.

'Yes, I know, "afflicted" they are saying, but that makes it sound like an illness… which it is not…'

'That's true enough, but, Daerada…'

'…no, for one cannot help an illness, but elves do not get ill…'

'Not "afflicted", Adar,' Thranduil said with grave dignity. 'The new term is gay. As in, for example, my son Legolas is gay.'

'I always knew you would overindulge your children, Thranduil. Besotted with that Silvan of yours… well.'

'Thel, I think I like that word,' Glorfindel said brightly, trying to sound cheerful. 'It's how you make me feel, anyway; joyous and full of gaiety…'

'You are certainly very joyous at times, my sunlight,' Ecthelion replied around the hurt; to think that his old friend, whom he had long ago tried to help and support in the Halls, the one he'd talked to of his hopes and fears, of the love he and Glorfindel shared now seemed to have understood nothing about him, or Glorfindel, or their bond was inexplicably distressing…

'…not that I blame Ecthelion and Glorfindel,' Oropher continued, refusing to be deflected. 'It was their king Turgon's fault for encouraging this perversion for the sake of keeping the birth-rate down…'

'Oropher, Glorfindel and I always knew we were destined for each other; I think you have not quite understood how it was in Gondolin…' Ecthelion began, but Oropher continued undaunted.

'…but for that, I am sure they would have gone on to choose ellith and marry and have families, instead of which…'

'But we did choose, Oropher!' Glorfindel said firmly. 'We chose each other, we're fëa-mates. Turgon had nothing to do with it.'

'Oh, you say that now, but really…!'

'Yes, really!' Glorfindel moved behind Ecthelion, hands on his husband's shoulders. 'It's always been Thel for me, from the first moment I saw him, and none of the suitable ellith that were pushed at me could have changed my mind; it's not wrong, not unnatural, we know that now, do you really think the Valar would allow us to live this way if it was?' Fin's voice was rising, his grip on Ecthelion's shoulders increasing. 'Eru Iluvatar, he made us all and made sure there was one fëa-mate for each of us, do you think he would do this to us if it was wrong?'

'I do not now about that; perhaps, because you were led into a wrong way of thinking by your king you are not to blame and so are allowed to continue…'

'Father,' Thranduil said, his voice cool, calm. 'Many things have changed while you have been in the Halls. Marriage between two ellyn – or between two ellith – is now a valid and acceptable lifestyle choice.'

'Although it's not really a choice,' Legolas said, coming to his father's support. 'That is, you can be lonely, or you can accept your nature. I was lucky, I found Govon. But it's not something you can choose.'

'Have I not been saying, it is not their fault?' Oropher protested as Erymes grabbed his arm and drew him away with an apologetic glance at her hosts. 'And they are still my friends…'

'I can't listen to any more of this…' Glorfindel muttered.

'You do not have to, beloved,' Ecthelion said, his spirits dropping even as he said it. 'You need to go and check on your goats, after all. Why do you not go and see if Gassy Galadriel is settled, yes?'

'I can't leave you here, Thel…'

'Yes, you can. Oropher is just… set in his thoughts, I am sure he does not realise the distress he has inflicted…'

'You see, I knew you were hurt…'

'I will survive. I will be better if I know you are not exposed to such cavalier callousness. Besides, there may be a kid born tonight, you know you love to watch new life emerging.'

'Well… if you're sure… or there could just be another kinslaying…'

Ecthelion smiled and gently kissed his husband's forehead.

'I will come and seek you once they have gone,' he said.

Fin managed an almost brave smile.

'When you do, bring some wine, maybe? And a bit of cake, if there's any left.'