Chapter 3

First Impressions

The sun was rising as they dismounted before the entrance to the King's Hall. Waiting for them was a slender, smiling Elf who nodded encouragingly to Laiqua. His spirits rose for the first time since he'd been pulled from his tree. Was this his Adar? In spite of the leader's ominous words, this Elf looked as kind as Tathar's Ada, maybe kind enough to let Nana join him if Laiqua explained how much he missed her. The leader approached the smiling Elf.

"Seneschal Gilglîr, we have brought back the King's son, as commanded. Should we escort him to the King himself?"

"No, I will present him. You may stand down."

"Thank you, Seneschal."

So this was not his Adar. But if the King had chosen such a kind-looking Seneschal, perhaps the monarch would be a kind man himself.

"Come, young prince. Your Adar wishes to meet you." The Seneschal gestured for Laiqua to precede him, which struck Laiqua as odd—he did not know the way! But the Seneschal gently directed him by tapping him on a shoulder to indicate when he was to turn down a new corridor. At last they came to a door that led into an enormous room. On the far side of the room sat an imposing Elf in a large, ornate chair that rested on a dais. This, Laiqua knew instantly, was the King. He was not smiling, but he was not frowning, either. At either side of him, at a respectful distance, stood his advisors, all just as expressionless as their King.

As Laiqua gazed with interest at his Adar, the Seneschal studied the King no less intently. Gilglîr prayed that this meeting between the King and his son would go well. It had been at the Seneschal's urging that Thranduil had sent for Laiqua. For five years the King had refused to issue any orders concerning his son and heir. It had been Gilglîr who had sent books to Laiqua so that he would gain a rudimentary acquaintance with his letters. Gilglîr was also the one who ordered that bolts of cloth be delivered to Laiqua's Edwen Nana so that she might sew garments to replace the ones he had outgrown. Indeed, it had been Gilglîr who had ordered that warriors be posted in the woods around the cottage where the nursemaid had taken up residence with the child.

"The Ernil-neth, my Lord." The King inclined his head slightly but said nothing. After a long moment, Gilglîr quietly prompted Laiqua to move forward. When they were a half dozen feet from the throne, Gilglîr pressed Laiqua's shoulder gently, then backed away, leaving Laiqua standing alone before the King.

The King still had said nothing. The pause grew awkward for Laiqua, who found that his legs were beginning to tremble as he stood before his silent Adar. For all his efforts, he could not stop a few tears from springing to his eyes. He tried hard to blink them back. The King, however, noticed and at last broke his silence. "By the Valar!" the King snapped. "That wretched hên-elleth has babied him. Well, there will be no more of that. If you cry…."

"…you will give me something to cry about," finished Laiqua.

The onlookers gasped. The King looked at Laiqua with irritation, but Laiqua stared back at him innocently. Grumbled the King, "That was not what I intended to say. I merely wished to remind you that if you cry, you will make yourself ill—and you are not to expect sympathy from the servants if you do so! Where, Gilglîr, did he acquire such a notion? Has that woman poisoned his mind against me!?"

The Seneschal made a noncommittal gesture. "No doubt he overheard and misunderstood some idle gossip—perhaps from one of the escort." Privately Gilglîr determined to have a word with the captain.

The King returned his attention to Laiqua, frowning at him. "Why does he cringe so!? Has that woman raised my son raised a coward!" No one spoke in reply.

After another awkward pause, the King turned to an elderly Elf who stood nearest to him. "I am afraid, Tutor, that your charge's upbringing thus far has been in the hands of an uncouth person of common stock. You may experience some initial difficulties. Be assured, however, that I will reward you well for undertaking the education and training of my—of the Prince."

Glancing doubtfully at Laiqua, the tutor bowed to the King. "Thank you, my Lord. I will do my best to make him a credit to your court."

The King grimaced and shook his head, as if he thought it unlikely that the tutor could accomplish such a miracle.

Laiqua's first day in his new home was a dreary one. First, the tutor led Laiqua to his room. Every thing about the room was big—the chamber itself, the table, the chair, the wardrobe, the bed. Indeed, when Laiqua stood by this latter piece of furniture, he found that his head only reached as high as the bottom of the mattress, and he wondered how he was supposed to climb atop at bedtime.

Meanwhile, the tutor opened Laiqua's pack and began to sort through his clothes. He discovered much that displeased him.

"No, no, this garment won't do at all. The weave of this cloth is far too coarse." The tutor tossed the tunic onto the floor and pulled out another one.

"Hmm, the cloth is of better quality, but the embroidery is not in the latest style. One would think it had been stitched in the First Age!" Down went the second tunic.

In short order, two sets of leggings and a third tunic joined the growing pile on the floor. As the elderly Elf was pulling a nightshirt out of the pack, Laiqua spotted the stuffed horse. He felt sudden joy. Just as quickly, however, he felt deep pain. Surely he would not be permitted to keep such a shabby toy. He glanced up at his tutor, who was absorbed in muttering about how Laiqua's wardrobe was "unsuitable for a prince of his standing." Swiftly Laiqua reached into the pack, grabbed the horse, dropped it on the floor, and kicked it under the bed.

At last the Elf had finished sorting through Laiqua's clothing. He reluctantly allowed Laiqua to keep two tunics, two sets of leggings, and one nightshirt—"just so you have something to wear while your new clothes are being sewn. Then these will make serviceable cleaning rags for the housemaids!"

After his tutor had sorted through his clothes, Laiqua was taken to be fitted for new ones. As he stood with arms outstretched, his belly began to rumble. The tutor looked scandalized, as if it were somehow Laiqua's fault that no one had thought to ask whether he had had any breakfast.

Lunch Laiqua ate in his room under the eye of his tutor, who did not himself join in the meal. Nor did he chatter with Laiqua, as his Nana always had. Instead, the tutor used the time to instruct Laiqua on how to hold each utensil. It was hard for Laiqua to eat with someone watching his every bite. Supper, however, was going to be worse, Laiqua feared. His tutor told him that he would be expected to eat at the table of the King in a room that would be filled with courtiers. "You will be expected to dress for supper," the tutor informed him. Laiqua thought this to be an odd admonition, as he always came to the table with his clothes on.

After lunch Laiqua was told that he might play quietly by himself for a time, but, having no toy other than the hidden Roch, he was forced to content himself with looking out the widow. Then, when the tutor returned after an hour, Laiqua had to accompany him to the library. This, the tutor informed him, was where he would have his lessons each day. Laiqua had loved pouring over his books, which were filled with fascinating stories and pictures, and he had been thrilled to realize that, if he matched sounds with letters, he himself could piece out the words. However, the tomes that the tutor stacked before him did not look at all interesting. Still, Laiqua noticed on the shelves several volumes with fascinating titles, and he timidly asked the tutor if he might be allowed to take one or two to his room, to read in his spare time. The older Elf looked astonished. Peering down at his charge, he spluttered, "You are much too young to be entrusted with books as valuable as these!" Laiqua reminded himself of his secret toy and resolved to find a way to spirit away a volume.

The tutor gave an equally unsatisfactory answer to the next question that Laiqua ventured to ask. He wondered whether he might have a bow and be permitted to practice at archery. The elderly Elf haughtily informed Laiqua that as tutor he himself had nothing to do with weapons training and knew naught of any plans for such instruction. This crushing reply nearly caused Laiqua to give way to forbidden tears, but he calmed himself by resolving to speak to the Seneschal at the first opportunity. The Elfling sensed that Gilglîr would be sympathetic and might intervene on his behalf.

After outlining for Laiqua all the subjects that he would be expected to master, the tutor led the Elfling back to his room, where he 'dressed' for dinner. As Laiqua was already wearing his only acceptable garment, the silk tunic in which he had been presented to the King, dressing consisted merely of washing his face and hands, tidying his hair, and reassuming the diadem that he had been allowed to set aside after lunch.

Supper threatened to be as much of a trial as Laiqua had feared. First, he had to make an entrance. With his tutor behind him hissing instructions, Laiqua knew to stop just inside the door of the dining hall. A herald announced that the Ernil-neth had arrived. Of course, thought Laiqua, everyone could see perfectly well that he had arrived. Still, the announcement apparently could not be omitted. At this introduction, all the courtiers arose at their seats and bowed, and Laiqua had to bow back—but not too deeply. His tutor surreptitiously seized the back of Laiqua's tunic when his bow threatened to turn into something more than the subtle inclination of his head.

Laiqua next had to 'stride forcefully but gracefully' to the King's table. The tutor had been very particular about this phrase, repeating it again and again as he escorted his charge through the corridors that led to the dining hall. As a result, Laiqua was of course unable to walk with either the required force or the required grace. But, in spite of his nervousness, he somehow managed not to trip or collapse into a shameful heap.

Once he reached his place at the table, Laiqua bowed to the king—deeply this time—and it was now the King who subtly inclined his head in return. Then and only then could the Elfling take his seat. To Laiqua's relief the remainder of the meal was not outright unpleasant—until the very end, that is. After food was placed before him, Laiqua was happy to be ignored for the most part. Neither his Adar nor his tutor nor any other member of the court tried to engage him in conversation. It was clear that he was merely required to be seen, not heard. It was not even necessary for him to address the servants because he did not eat or drink enough for them to approach him in order to replenish his plate or his cup. He did, however, sense that his Adar would be displeased at his lack of appetite, so whenever the King's eyes were turned in his direction, he made haste to push something into his mouth—but 'gracefully', so as not to attract the attention of his tutor. And thus he tried to fend off both these Elves his first night in the King's Hall.

Laiqua's departure from the dining hall was only a little less elaborate than his arrival. After a seemingly endless number of dishes had been delivered and removed from the table, Laiqua whispered to his tutor that he really needed to leave the hall momentarily, but he was informed that he could not do so until the King had arisen and made his exit. Dismayed, Laiqua resolved to drink even less during future meals. For now, though, he suspected that wriggling would be frowned upon, and he frantically tried to sit as still as possible, which was not very still at all. Increasingly, the eyes of both the King and the tutor were upon the little Elfling.

At last the King arose. As one, all other occupants of the room arose and bowed deeply, to be rewarded by the requisite inclined head. Then the King swept from the room, striding, Laiqua noticed in despair, both forcefully and gracefully. Now it was Laiqua's turn to exit. Trailed by his tutor, the Elfling was at this point even less capable of treading in the appropriate manner than he had been upon his entrance. He was sure that he would disgrace himself if he took anything other than the tiniest of steps.

Once Laiqua and his tutor were safely outside the dining hall, the tutor mercifully led Laiqua to a garderobe that was only one long corridor away. By the time they reached it, Laiqua was a little damp but not so that anyone would notice.

After their stop at the garderobe, the tutor led Laiqua to his room and bid him good-night at the door. Obviously, Laiqua could not expect to be tucked in, and no good-night kiss would be forthcoming. Laiqua was not, however, disappointed. He wanted nothing so much as to be left alone. Wearily, he stripped off his tunic and damp leggings and pulled his nightshirt over his head. Next he crawled under the bed and retrieved Roch. Then he considered how to ascend his lofty mattress. Ah, the chair. He pulled it beside the bed, climbed onto it, and from that vantage point was able to clamber into the bed. By this time, he was too blessedly tired to dwell on the events of the past two days. He literally was asleep within minutes. Still, it was a measure of his homesickness that this first night he slept with his eyes closed, a most unelvish way to repose.

In the morning, a housemaid brought Laiqua breakfast. Like the tutor, the housemaid did not stay to eat and gossip with him. At least she did not hover about criticizing his table manners. Instead, she left the room altogether.

Laiqua had even less appetite than he had had at supper, but he suspected that a repeat of his failure to eat might be looked upon just as unfavorably as crying. Listlessly, he swallowed every tasteless bite. After he had finished, he was not certain what to do next. Would he be allowed to leave his room for a time—perhaps to go outside—or was he expected to await the arrival of his tutor?

As he stood by the table, the door opened, and the housemaid returned to tidy up the room. She went straight to the bed to smooth the rumpled quilt. Laiqua sprang to intercept her.

"I can make my own bed!"

"Why, little prince, this duvet weighs more than you do!"

"Leave it!" Laiqua cried fiercely, grabbing hold of one side of the quilt and pulling as hard as he could. The housemaid, startled, let go of the other side, and Laiqua toppled over backward, the duvet cascading off the mattress and onto his head. Tangled up in the bedding, the stuffed horse was pulled off the bed as well, landing on the floor beside Laiqua.

When Laiqua crawled out from under the quilt, he gasped in horror. The housemaid was holding his beloved horse.

"Ah, I am so sorry, little prince. I did not know that there was still someone asleep in your bed. It is a pity that he has been woken up so roughly. In the future, I shall be much more careful."

She winked at Laiqua and slipped Roch under the clothes in the wardrobe.

"This may be a good place for him to spend his days.

Laiqua nodded. He could not speak, but he did manage to smile a little.