Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.
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Mirkwood's Plague II:
Aftermath
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Chapter 17 ~ Knights and Dancing
Everything went perfectly, better than any of the rehearsals they had done. Several prominent politicians spoke about what the Crown meant, followed by short speeches from the Lord of Lothlorien and then from Aragorn representing Gondor. Legolas himself said a few words, written from him by various people. Thankfully, he wasn't required to make a big speech. He wasn't sure his nerves could stand up to too much let alone his legs. Once he was sat back down, the minister conducting the ceremony announced the nearing of the end. Legolas shifted nervously in his seat; he knew what was coming next. A guard approached the throne carrying a cushion with an elaborate golden crown resting on red velvet. Legolas almost cracked a smile at the sight. Without a doubt this had been commissioned by his father; typically overly grand and expensive. His father had worn this crown, which had replaced his own father's, upon his Coronation, having wanted to be rid of anything that had reminded him of Oropher. In an act that would sum up Thranduil's entire rule, he had melted down the old metal crown and created a new, far grander crown. He sent word to the Dwarves – still allies at that time – to send him the finest jewels they owned for a handsome fee. Set in the pure gold crown, it had become one of the most valuable things in the entire kingdom, kept deep in the vaults, always intended to be brought up when Rumil was crowned King.
Unlike his own father, Legolas had no desire to destroy this particular piece of the past. He did not hate Thranduil as he had hated Oropher. If anything, the crown was a reminder of his love for Thranduil. Despite his earlier reluctance regarding regalia, Legolas now considered wearing it a great honour. Still, he trembled as the crown was slowly brought forward. The guard climbed the steps and handed the pillow to the minister, bowing low to Legolas and backing down the stairs.
"Your Highness," the minister said. "Please kneel." Legolas stood from the throne and with every ounce of energy he possessed managed to keep himself tipping forward as he knelt on the pillow that had been placed on the floor before him. He looked up at the minister, nodding for him to continue. "I crown thee, King and ruler of the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood, formally called Greenwood. May you rule her and her people well and keep the peace of this great Kingdom for as long as you reign." The minister took the crown slowly from the red velvet cushion then lowering it onto Legolas' head carefully and respectfully. "Rise, Legolas, Lord and King of the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood," he announced.
Legolas stood up, accepting the hand the minster subtly held out to help him. The minister then knelt before the new King in a reverential bow. At the same time the rest of the room stood up and bowed low to their Lord. Legolas nodded to the minister, who stood up, inviting everyone else to also stand at ease.
"Hail, King Legolas," the minister declared, to which the crowd replied in kind. Legolas nodded once more, blinking tears back from his eyes. His first act as king couldn't be to break down in front of every important person in Mirkwood. He followed the minister down the steps and back down the aisle, smiling and shaking hands on the way but never allowing himself to get waylaid too long. People followed him out as he walked to the balcony overlooking the courtyard where the public were gathered. When he appeared before them they all cheered his name in glee and excitement. Mercifully, he wasn't required to make a speech, just show up and stand before them for a couple of minutes. Besides, the crowds satisfied themselves with cheering and seemed to require no speech.
After about ten minutes, Galadriel stepped forwards and took his arm, leading him away from the balcony and the overwhelming sight of all his kingdom spread before him. They went straight to Legolas' rooms, followed only by Glorfindel and Aragorn, where Legolas would be able to quickly change from his heavy robes and into something he could sensibly wear to the after party. He handed his crown to a waiting maid who went to put it back into the vaults where it came from. Although already servants were handing him his party clothes, he sat down on the bed, closing his eyes, trying to stop his head from spinning with everything that had already occurred this day.
However, a fine green shirt was thrust into his hands so he looked up and pushed himself to his feet. He took the outfit from the servant and went to the bathroom, changing quickly so he wouldn't be tempted to sit down and hide.
When he emerged he was dressed in tunic and leggings, the same shades of Mirkwood green. A servant slipped a robe on him and he fastened it with a golden brooch that had once belonged to his father. Finally, Thranduil's own golden circlet was placed on Legolas' head and he turned to look at himself in the mirror. People had often said that – bar the emotions behind striking blue eyes – it was sometimes difficult to tell the two apart. They had always been startlingly similar in appearance. Now dressed in virtually the same outfit Thranduil wore for special occasions, the effect was both startling and disturbing, like seeing a ghost. This thought had obviously occurred to Legolas as well. He paled even further if that were at all possible and turned sharply away from the mirror, not wanting to look at himself as the image of his father.
"Let's go then," he said, shaking his head as he walked past Aragorn when the man opened his mouth to ask if Legolas was alright. If he heard one more word of sympathy from any of them he was certain that he would simply fall apart. Just a few more hours and it would all be over, or at least until the sun rose and he would take over as ruler of Mirkwood. He pushed the thought from his mind, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold his nerve during the party if he thought too far in advance. As he strode down the corridors, which were lined with clapping staff bowing as he passed, for just a moment things didn't seem so bad. People didn't hate him yet. That had to count for something.
The sight of the grounds filled with people of all races cheering only brought his doubts and fears back. Casting a brief look back at his friends, Legolas forced a smile onto his face and walked with fake confidence into the crowd, accepting people's hands to shake and maidens kissing him on the cheek. Councillors spoke briefly to him, congratulating him on his coronation as if Legolas had actually done anything. He bit his tongue though and smiled through hundreds of words and touches.
Every time Legolas tried to get away, a group of people would surround him, trapping him in conversation he barely had the energy to engage in. He ended up merely punctuating their pauses with the appropriate word or gesture and they seemed unaware that he was hardly paying them any attention. A drink was pressed into his hands and everyone toasted to his future as king. In fact, he couldn't look at anyone without them raising their glasses in salute.
The day seemed to fly by with people partying all around him and Legolas was caught up in the chaos, unable to escape. As night fell, the lamps were lit around the trees and a band began playing, lightening the previously formal atmosphere. Straight away, people began dancing and eating the feast placed before them. Alcohol, brought by the visiting Men living in the forest as a gift to her new king, soon began flowing freely, serving to lighten the mood even further. The Hobbits started showing the Elves of Mirkwood infamous Shire drinking games. Soon most people were dancing and partying, chatting amongst each other. All except Legolas who had spent the past forty-five minutes being lectured on the best way to reshuffle his staff given that a good number of his advisors were either dead, unwell or grieving after the plague. The callous words stung Legolas, even more so because they came from his father's chief advisor, who during the plague had hidden away in his home refusing to help at all even during the clean-up. Legolas clenched his jaw and smiled whenever the tall blonde paused for breath. Although several times he glanced around to find his friends they remained out of his sight, swallowed up by the crowd, no doubt enjoying the fabulous party after all their efforts and exertions. And Legolas was reluctant to go in search of them. After all, didn't they deserve a break after everything they had done for him? Besides he would only drag them down. Perhaps he was better off engaged in mind-numbingly boring conversation with his chief advisor. This was to be his future. Practice made perfect, after all.
He tried to tune into what the advisor was saying, smiling gently as he spoke about rebuilding the monarchy. He spoke about removing Thranduil's old policies, oblivious to Legolas' annoyance at his rather thoughtless comments about his late father.
Just when he thought he would have to either walk way or end up punching the Elf in the face, Legolas caught sight of Aragorn, only for it to drop when he saw the King of Gondor was sweeping his wife around in dancing, laughing brightly, unaware of his friend's predicament.
The advisor was now describing the advantages of knocking down old parts of the palace and rebuilding it to Legolas' personal tastes. Finally, the Elf seemed to realise that Legolas wasn't listening and said, "King Legolas," prompting Legolas to face him.
"What?" Legolas snapped.
"I was just saying, King Legolas…"
"Don't call me that."
The advisor looked startled. "I beg your pardon?"
"I said, don't call me that," Legolas snapped again.
"I…"
Before the advisor could protest at Legolas' somewhat rude attitude, a delicate hand was placed on his shoulder and he spun to find himself face to face with Lady Galadriel, a knowing smile on her face. "Forgive me for disturbing you, my Lord, but my husband seems to have abandoned me and I really love this music. I need someone to dance with. Legolas, would you do me the honour?" she asked lightly.
Although Legolas initially hesitated, staring hard into the advisor's eyes, when Galadriel squeezed his shoulder he nodded, stiffly turning away and allowing Galadriel to lead him away from the advisor. When they had joined the dancers, Galadriel pulled Legolas close and led him a slow, calm, shuffling dance.
"You look like you're doing fine," Galadriel said softly. Legolas shook his head in disbelief. "No, you really are."
"He was telling me how I should knock down my father's palace to make way for a better one," Legolas said, anger creeping into his voice.
"Just ignore it," Galadriel answered.
"How can I just ignore it? Their King is dead!" Legolas shouted, pulling sharply away from Galadriel. People around him stopped what they were doing and looked to Legolas in surprise at the outburst.
"Legolas…" Galadriel said softly.
Thankfully, she was saved from finding the right words when Elrond stepped in, having seen the whole thing. "It's alright," he said gently to Legolas.
The king looked around himself, startled to see everyone watching him. "I…I'm sorry," he trembled out.
"Alright. Come on, maybe it's time to take a little break, hmmm?" Elrond said kindly, leading Legolas through the crowds. Even as he was led to the house, Legolas heard the party starting up again. Apparently they could continue with the frivolities without the guest of honour. Once inside and away from the noise of the party, Elrond sat Legolas down on a chair just inside the door, crouching down in front of him. "Better?" he asked softly and Legolas nodded. "Alright. Just sit here for a while and catch your breath."
Aragorn broke the quiet by bursting through the doors with Arwen close behind him. "Legolas, are you alright?" he asked hurriedly.
"I'm fine," Legolas smiled shakily.
"Is there anything we can do?" Arwen asked in a quieter, calmer voice than her husband.
"No. Really, I'm fine," Legolas continued to assure them. "You should go and rejoin the party. Go back to your dancing."
Aragorn was about to protest but Arwen took his arm. "You're sure?" she checked. When he nodded she pulled her husband away, guessing Legolas wouldn't want to be crowded right now. The man didn't get a chance to protest, she dragged him out the door and back to the celebration.
"Do you think you can go back out there now?" Elrond asked kindly and Legolas nodded, going to stand up, only to nearly fall into the healers arms when his strength failed him once again. "Alright, maybe not quite yet."
"Your Majesty!" a maid exclaimed, having seen Legolas' near fall.
"Just sit back down," Elrond advised gently as he lowered Legolas back down into his chair. "That's it."
"I'm fine. Just…hot," Legolas smiled weakly.
"Sir…" the maid said softly in concern.
"He's alright," Elrond assured her.
"Could you please bring me a glass of water?" Legolas asked the maid, mostly just wanting to get rid of her.
"Water. Right away, Your Majesty." She ran off to do as asked, clearly startled by what she had seen.
"How are you feeling now?" Elrond asked now they were alone.
"Just a little dizzy. I'm just tired that's all. Really, I'll be fine," Legolas smiled softly.
Before Elrond could say anything more, the maid reappeared with a glass of water for her king. "Thank you," Legolas smiled, taking the glass with trembling hands. She bowed low and left. Once Legolas had drained the glass slowly, he put it on the ground and stood up, a lot steadier this time.
"Maybe you should go and lie down for a few minutes," Elrond suggested, taking Legolas' arm in case he needed the support.
Legolas laughed humourlessly, straightening out his tunic. "Honestly, Elrond, if I lie down now I don't think I'll be able to get back up." He studiously avoided Elrond's eyes but the healer nodded understandingly. "We should get back before someone misses us."
"Legolas, take it easy, alright?"
"I'll do my best," Legolas smiled before opening the doors and striding purposefully out into the party, putting his game face back on and shaking even more hands and smiling his way through the crowds. He was quickly swept into a dance with a young maiden and remarkably he managed to do pretty well considering his legs felt ready to buckle at any moment.
He moved from partner to partner, his only slight reprieve coming when Arwen danced with him a little more sedately than some of the others. He was grateful for it but he was a popular person tonight and most of the maidens wanted to dance with him. He understood that most of this was political manoeuvring. He was, after all, now the King of Mirkwood and more importantly a king without a wife. Whoever he married would immediately become queen and that was a tempting outlook for any eligible woman.
Once, Legolas was pulled from the dancing by an insistent Celeborn and taken to the food and drinks table where Sam and Merry were currently engaged in an arm-wrestling competition which was heavily influenced by fine food and potent wine. He was forced to eat something and Celeborn shoved a drink into his hands. Unfortunately, this break lasted less than fifteen minutes as Legolas was dragged back to where everyone was dancing by a group of excitable Elflings.
The only advantage of dancing with the children was that they contented themselves with chatting about the decorations or the music rather than boring him with dull political talk. The downside was that they had bundles of energy and could surely have gone on all night. Still, Legolas preferred their company to the adults.
It was gone midnight before parents and foster parents pulled their children away from Legolas and told them it was time for bed, deaf to their protests of keeping the king company. There were still plenty of people left even after the departure of the children but Legolas managed to slip to the edge of the party where he took a seat on a bench and leaned back.
A quiet crying from nearby made him open his eyes and he looked around for the source of the sound. It took a couple of minutes for him to determine that it came from beneath him. He leaned forwards and looked beneath the bench to find a small girl curled up on the grass cradling a battered brown stuffed bear in her arms. She looked up when Legolas' face appeared upside down before her.
"Hello," he said softly.
She hesitated before stuttering out a teary, "H…Hello."
"What are you doing under there?" Legolas asked with a small smile.
"Hiding."
"From what?"
"My brother."
"And why are you hiding from your brother?" Legolas asked.
"He tried to steal Cuddles," the girl answered.
"Who is Cuddles?"
The child looked at him as though this was the single most stupid question ever asked and her voice reflected her exasperation. "My bear."
"Right." He looked across at the party. "Where is your brother now?" he asked, turning back to her.
"I don't know. He and some friends went to climb trees. I'm not allowed to climb trees. He said it's because I'm too small."
"And what about your parents? Where are they?"
"They left," she stated matter-of-factly.
"They left the party without you?" he questioned, stunned that parents would leave a small child and her – seemingly irresponsible – brother alone at such a large event.
"No. They went away. Because of the sickness." She pulled Cuddles closer and hugged him tightly.
Of course, Legolas understood that 'went away because of the sickness' really meant that they had died in the plague and he nodded softly, a pang of sadness resounding in his heart. "Oh. I see." Clearing his throat he then asked, "Who are you here with then?"
"My aunt and uncle."
"And where are they?"
"Dancing."
"Ah."
"I don't like dancing. It's silly," she declared boldly.
He smiled brightly at the statement. "Why is it silly?"
She sighed dramatically. "Well, I only ever get to dance with my brother and he always acts silly."
"Well then you should find a better partner. How about one of your friends?"
"I don't have any friends."
"Your aunt and uncle?"
"Nah, they're too boring. Anyway I don't know how to dance…properly."
"How do you know if you've never really tried?" he asked with a small smile. She found that she didn't have an answer for that. Legolas stood up and then knelt down in front of her, holding out his hand to her. "Come and dance with me," he offered kindly.
"I can't."
"Why not?" There were not many people who would turn down the offer of the king's hand.
"Because."
"Because?"
She leaned forward, whispering to him, "You're the king," as if it were a great secret.
"Yes, I am." He frowned. "That doesn't explain why you can't dance with me though."
"I'm not a princess," she stated as if he should have known the reason already.
"And?"
"You have to be a princess to dance with the king."
Legolas laughed brightly. "Who told you that?"
"My aunt."
"Ah. Well, you do not need to be a princess to dance with me."
"Really?" she asked shyly.
"I'm a king. I can dance with whoever I like." He smiled gently at her. "Although perhaps being a princess is a good idea." Her tentative smile instantly dissolved. "Therefore…"
"Mia," she put in her name.
"Mia. For this night you shall be Princess Mia of Mirkwood." She grinned at him brightly.
"Wait. What about Cuddles?" she remembered, showing him the battered bear.
"Right. Well, Cuddles shall be Sir Cuddles, knight of the realm."
She laughed at his declaration. "You have to knight him properly, like in the old stories."
"Of course. I forgot about that bit." He looked around himself and found a small twig lying nearby. He touched the tip of the stick onto the bear's shoulder and declared, "I knight thee, Sir Cuddles." Again she laughed at his antics. "Now, will you please dance with me, Princess Mia?" He held his hand out and this time she took it and clambered out from under the bench. He led her to the band, ignoring people's stares. Although she looked a little uncomfortable, Mia held Legolas' hand firmly.
Once they reached the front of the dance flood close to the band, the way cleared for them. Legolas faced Mia and bowed low to her. She did a long, comedy curtsy, which he laughed at, then they danced, him leading slowly and her following, watching his every move with fascination. People stared, confused at the unprecedented display but they soon went back to what they had been doing.
"I thought you said you didn't know how to dance," he smiled down at her.
"Mia!" a sharp voice sounded from beside them and the girl started, immediately abandoning Legolas. "What do you think you're doing?" A stern-looking Elf approached them, her face a curious mixture of embarrassment and anger. She rushed forward and took the girl's hand. "I told you not to run off. Your clothes are filthy." Then she seemed to remember that the newly crowned King of Mirkwood was stood before her and she bowed low. "Forgive my niece, Your Majesty."
"Not at all."
"You should have gone to bed hours ago. You were supposed to return with your brother."
"He left me alone," Mia whined to her obviously severe aunt.
"Oh for Valar's…" she sighed. "You should have come to find me."
"Ma'am," Legolas interrupted, causing her to look up in surprise. "I'm afraid that it was I who detained your niece. I am to blame not her."
"Well, of course, Your Majesty. Come, Mia. It's time for bed. If you will excuse us, Your Majesty."
He nodded but took Mia's small hand and leant forward to kiss it gently. "Goodnight, Princess Mia." He stood up straight and bowed to them both. "Thank you for the dance."
"Goodnight," Mia laughed as she was pulled away by her aunt.
Legolas watched her go and sighed softly. "That was really a nice thing you did," Elrond said with a smile. "Her parents were both healers. They died a few weeks ago leaving behind Mia and her older brother."
"It's so sad," Legolas breathed sincerely.
Elrond watched him for a moment. "The party's dying down so I don't see any reason why you can't slip away now. No one will miss you."
"I should probably stick around."
"You should go to bed. Celeborn told me you didn't sleep well last night. You must be shattered." Legolas dipped his head and nodded gently. "Go and get some sleep. Stay in bed late tomorrow morning and don't worry about anything else tonight, alright? Go on. I sent Glorfindel ahead to make you some tea and warm up your room."
"Elrond, thank you for everything."
"Go on."
Just before Legolas could leave though Galadriel and Gimli approached, both a little flushed from dancing. "You're not leaving. It's still early," the Dwarf exclaimed.
"It's nearly three in the morning and I'm going to bed," Legolas smiled.
"Nonsense. Come and dance."
"Leave him alone, Gimli," Elrond smiled.
"Yes, Legolas. Go and rest. Gimli, come on," Galadriel encouraged, saving Legolas once more.
"Fine. By the way, nice party," the Dwarf grinned, taking Galadriel's hand to lead her back to the dance.
Before she was pulled away, Galadriel said, "Goodnight, Legolas. Sleep well."
"Go now before you get waylaid again," Elrond said.
"Thank you. Goodnight, Elrond."
"Goodnight."
As soon as Legolas was in his rooms, safe from his subjects, he leant back against the door, closing his eyes. That had been just about the longest day of his life and he fervently hoped it wasn't one he would have to repeat any time soon.
"You look dead on your feet," a soft voice came from his bedroom door.
Legolas opened his eyes to find Glorfindel looking at him. He smiled softly and said, "I think I am."
The captain smiled and walked over to him. He pulled Legolas into a hug and the younger Elf leant against him, his head resting on a broad shoulder. "Come on, I've run you a hot bath, it might help you relax and there's some tea for you as well," Glorfindel said, pulling back.
"Thank you."
Glorfindel led Legolas into the warm bedroom and handed him a mug of tea. The King sipped at it, liking how it warmed his still slightly chilled body. Glorfindel smiled at him as he placed the empty mug back on the side. "I don't think you're going to make it to the bath," he said quietly, taking in Legolas' exhausted form.
"Neither do I," he admitted.
"Come on, let's get you out of those clothes and into bed."
"Sounds like a plan."
"Let me help you." Glorfindel helped Legolas out of his stiff formal clothes. The younger Elf helped as best he could given that he could do little but sway on his feet. "There," he said once Legolas was dressed in loose-fitting nightclothes. Legolas looked up at him and the seneschal smiled, pulling Legolas' hair back from his face. Their eyes locked for a moment, their very souls seeming to spark for a second. The captain leant forward and pulled Legolas against him.
Before they knew it their lips were brushing up against each other. However, before the kiss could become too passionate or too deep, Legolas broke it, pulling away but remaining in Glorfindel's arms.
"Please, not tonight," the newly crowned King of Mirkwood said softly.
"Alright." Although he said it, Glorfindel couldn't hide his disappointment. It had been Legolas who, just a couple of weeks ago, had tried to force it.
"I want to but…I'm just really tired."
Glorfindel's face softened and he smiled gently. "I understand. Get into bed and sleep then. We can talk tomorrow if you feel up to it."
"Thank you," Legolas whispered, moving over to the bed and slipping beneath the sheets. He held out his hand to Glorfindel and the seneschal joined him in the bed, hugging him tightly. Legolas rested his head on Glorfindel's chest, using him as a pillow. Within minutes he lay in a deep, exhausted sleep. The past day – not to mention the past few weeks – had really taken their toll on the already vulnerable young Elf. Glorfindel held onto him until he himself slipped into Elven reverie.
When Elrond poked his head around the door just before dawn he smiled when she saw them both asleep. He eased the door closed, being careful not to wake them.
Behind him, Celeborn looked questioningly at him. "Fast asleep," Elrond smiled.
"Good."
"I'll make sure no one disturbs them this morning. Legolas deserves to be left to rest," Elrond whispered as they walked towards the door.
"I agree. Leave him to sleep for as long as possible."
And they left Legolas to the few hours of blissful, dreamless sleep he could get. A guard was left outside the door with strict instructions that no one was to disturb Legolas unless it was a true life or death emergency.
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To Be Continued….