Tâd
Amidst the din of the massing people there emerged the two friends, laughing as well with the revelers and joining in the last of a victory song as they paused for a moment at the base of the stairway. As the last refrains of the song died into silence, all eyes turned towards the prince and his companion.
For his part, Araorë looked up at the Lady Carandoliel- her dark green eyes never for a moment leaving the prince. The delicate lines of her cheeks opened up into a smile none could mistake- a smile of the most absolute and relieved happiness. Araorë turned to his friend, and found the Lady's smile reflected upon his face as well.
All spoke of her as the Lady Carandoliel, although by birthright she had no claim to nobility. Raised as the daughter of a blacksmith, she had made her company amongst those of the lower classes. From her earliest youth her beauty had been exquisite, even when it was cleverly hidden beneath soot and ash.
When her father had been commissioned to forge a set of practice knives for the novice prince, Carandoliel had begged to take them to the palace. Ever since her childhood the splendor of the royal dwelling had fascinated her- and her father could deny her nothing.
Upon climbing the same steps on which she know stood, happenstance had brought the prince to her, and from there fate had weaved them together inseparably. From their earliest courtship, the whole of the kingdom had been entranced by Carandoliel's simplicity and grace, and as for Legolas, he had never known such happiness. They had been joined together upon the eve of the New Year, mere months before trouble had begun stirring in the south.
When the dark times had descended upon the kingdom, Carandoliel had waited patiently in the background, careful not to be bothersome as Thranduil decided what was to be done. His decision to send Legolas however, had broken her heart and in the privacy of her own chambers she had wept bitterly and fearfully, desiring nothing more than to see him alive and well as she regretfully cursed Thranduil for sending him away.
Now she stood at the side of the king, her face no longer sad with tears but bright and clean, and her slender frame wrapped in an exquisite emerald gown. At first time stood still as she and the prince looked at each other, as though they feared shattering the perfect moment. Then, all in a rush, Carandoliel fairly flew down the stairs to meet Legolas as he began to clamber upwards. They met at the center to an uproar from the crowd.
"How now my love?" Legolas looked deeply into her eyes before smiling and placing a kiss upon her forehead. She laughed as tears began to run down her face and through her giddiness she replied:
"I am well my Lord. I missed you so." Without much thought for decorum or the eyes of the kingdom which were now upon him, Legolas deeply kissed Carandoliel, discontent to wait until they were in a more private setting. Her eyes opened wide with surprise but her own happiness overcame her shy nature as she responded to the kiss and wrapped her arms about his neck. When they parted, Legolas turned to see Araorë, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, standing just to his left.
"Well my Lord, you were never one to stand upon ceremony. Let us hope greeting your father will not be such a spectacle." Legolas laughed and kissed Carandoliel lightly upon her check before starting up the remaining stairs towards his father. Thranduil had drawn himself up into his full stature- a commanding and practical man he was nevertheless kind and gentle with his judgments- but when he towered as he did now, Legolas knew that something was troubling him. However, he had painted a smile across his face and when he embraced his son, the thankfulness Legolas felt was genuine.
"It makes my heart glad to see you again, my son, and I see that I am not the only one." He turned his warm smile to Carandoliel, who was blushing furiously. Together they turned towards the anxious crowd, Legolas arm in arm with Carandoliel and to his side his father and his best friend. Thranduil raised his hands in a silencing manner and motioned towards the softly billowing tent.
"May the celebration begin to welcome my son home!" His voice filled the air and was rejoined with the thunderous approval of the hoi polloi. The foursome turned around to enter the palace and prepare for the evening when they were stopped short by a messenger who was quite excited and out of breath. In an unorthodox way, he addressed himself not to the King, but to Araorë, speaking in gasps as he grabbed his side and tried to fill his burning lungs with air.
"She…she has awoken…come…come quickly!" Araorë's eyes shifted uncomfortably as he excused himself without explanation and went off at a quick trot towards the left wing of the castle. Legolas' brow fell into a furrow and upon turning to his father, he found the same frustration apparent there.
"Do you know of whom he speaks?" Thranduil's eyes darkened and Legolas noticed that his lips seemed to have grown thinner. He turned his eyes towards the eastern façade of the palace where Araorë disappeared, apparently not desiring to speak of the mystery guest at the present moment. Instead, he forced another smile and turned towards Carandoliel who had slipped into her submissive silence in the presence of the King.
"Tonight is a night of rejoicing. Let us save affairs of business until the morrow." With that he gave them another weak smile and walked off towards the palace with his shoulders slumped in a melancholy way. Utterly confused Legolas turned towards Carandoliel, his last chance for explanation. Her eyes however, were concernedly following the retreating King.
~*~