PART THREE

'This is the room where there is music and dance most evenings – tonight there will be poetry. Different songs are played in the evenings – we have a most excellent bard – or other forms of entertainment. No doubt many of my court will be interested in learning the melodies of your people. Do you sing?'

'Not if I can help it.' Replied Aragorn. He was being shown the palace by Legolas, as he had been promised the night before, and he felt as though he had been asked more questions in a morning than he had been in his whole life before.

'Tis a pity. Still, you will yet enjoy the talents of others. But let us not tarry, still there is much to see.'

Legolas continued down the corridor, occasionally pointing out paintings or tapestries to Aragorn, if they were of interest. Aragorn stopped for a moment beside a life-size portrait of an elf maiden, which Legolas had avoided. She stood with the forest as a background, and she held a delicate white blossom that hung from a vine in one long hand. Her hair was long, hanging past her waist, and unbraided. It was a rich red-blonde colour, like gold lit by firelight, and her eyes were sky blue, and ringed with dark lashes. A gown of many hued blue silk hung to the floor, covering her feet. She was beautiful – even for an elf, she was exceptional, and Aragorn found himself wishing to inspect the painting further. Legolas realized he had stopped, and came back to see what he was looking at.

'Who is she?' he asked as he studied the picture. Legolas didn't reply for a moment, and Aragorn glanced across and was startled to see that a shadow had passed across his friends face.

'She was my mother.' He replied finally, in a wistful tone. 'But she is dead now – died when I was only young…' Legolas trailed off.

'How? Asked Aragorn quietly enough that Legolas could ignore the question if he wished.

'It was tragic. She was riding in the forest, alone, and she was shot by dwarfish bounty hunters. Her horse came back riderless, and scouts found her later, with three arrows in her side. The forest was crying for her. That bloom she holds in the picture – it has not flowered since, and many an evil that was not here while she lived has crept into the forest. She was a maiden of the earth- some said she was of the river daughter Goldberry's kin. I don't think…I don't think my father ever recovered. She was so sweet, so kind, so beautiful…but come, you are making me too maudlin. She is in a better place now, and it happened long ago – many lives of men have since passed.'

Legolas turned and smiled slightly shakily to Aragorn. His eyes glistened slightly, and the man reached out and briefly squeezed the elf's shoulder. Legolas smiled once more, and the two continued. If Legolas was upset by the incident he didn't further show it, for he remained talkative and lively as he showed Aragorn the rest of the palace. All of the rooms - the great hall, the many sitting rooms, the library, the dining areas and the bathrooms were beautifully proportioned, and elegant in the extreme. It was not unusual for a room to have a tree growing through the middle, or making up part of the walls, and all of the rooms which had an outward wall had wide balconies, with rails made of branches or sculpted wood. Climbing roses, ivy and red leafy creepers surrounded all of the windows, and curtains, some white muslin; others opulently patterned cord or velvet, fluttered lightly at the windows. Now and then Legolas would lead the way through an ordinary looking door that led to a wooden platform supported by tree branches, but outside of the palace itself, with another door leading back inside on the other side. Here there were often chairs and tables, and it was pleasantly breezy, and the sunlight filtered through the tree branches and dappled the floor with golden pools of light. Birds fluttered in and out of the trees, singing to themselves in sweet voices, and Aragorn marvelled at this woodland paradise, which was similar to and yet so different from Rivendell. The palace was calm and peaceful by day, filled with the green dappled light of the trees, and the sound of birdsong. Occasionally the lilting murmur or sweet song of an elf could be heard, making the whole place seem like a tree house full of the breeze and the birds. The tour took a long time, and finished as Legolas led him down a stone staircase into a long, narrow room, whose walls and ceilings were glass. The floor was pale red slate, and led them to a pair of glass doors, flung open wide, at the far end of the room. Once outside Legolas stopped, and turned to Aragorn. They were now in a small grassy lawn, surrounded by gracefully dignified alders, larches and elms, which were kept from the malevolence of the rest of the forest by the pervading magic of the wood elves. A low fence of closely netted silver wire ran around the lawn, and several exquisite golden pheasants pecked methodically at the ground. One of them looked up as they slumped to sit on the lawn, before fluttering over to them and landing on Legolas' shoulder. He smiled and stroked its beautiful red-gold plumage.

'I didn't know they could fly.' Aragorn was looking at the low fence, and wondering what its purpose was, since it certainly wasn't keeping the pheasants in.

'Of course they can. They're birds!' Legolas looked mildly surprised at Aragorn's question.

'Why don't they fly away then?'

'Why would they want to? It's safe here, and the forest out there is full of danger – we are right on the border of the palace grounds here.'

'What is the fence for?'

'The fence? I'm not sure…it marks the boundary of our land perhaps…or it could be enchanted. I must ask.'

Aragorn smiled slightly.

'And how long have you lived here, Prince Legolas?'

A frown flittered very briefly across the elf's fair features, but was soon replaced by a rueful smile.

'Don't call me that. And I don't often come this way, there's no reason I should know about that fence. Are you hungry?'

'Not really.'

'Neither am I. I could show you the rest of the grounds. Unless you are tired?'

'Tired? I may not be as strong as you, elf, but one tour of the palace will not wear me out!'

Legolas laughed at Aragorn's indignation.

'Very well, but let us be hasty – the hour may be late before we are finished, and we must still prepare for the feast this evening.'

With these words Legolas leaped to his feet, causing the pheasant on his shoulder to leap up and flutter away, squawking in alarm. It landed beside the others and shuffled its feathers indignantly, before settling down to peck alongside them.

Legolas' tour continued as brisk and breathlessly as it had before. Aragorn was shown the lovely cobbled stable yard, with its looseboxes made entirely of bent and intertwining trees, and bedded with leaves and moss. Here he was introduced to Legolas' splendid grey stallion, who had a glowing coat of silk, a long and frothy mane and tail, and a kind and kingly eye like liquid velvet. Then it was on, on to the grape vines, the blackberry bushes, the orchards full of trees bearing glowing golden pears, rich ripe apples and juicily bursting plums. The wide, sweeping lawns dotted with shimmering flowers, and inhabited by more birds – golden pheasants, proud and lustrous peacocks, guinea fowl, and, where there was water, snowy swans with flashes of red fire on their beaks. Then there was the river, splashing over boulders and lined with willows, and its tributary streams, and occasional ponds full of glimmering fish. Occasionally paths wound through the woods, whose high trees and quiet air of reverence made the place seem like a vaulted cathedral, with a soft mossy carpet and deer that disappeared in silence when they approached. Leaves drifted lazily down from above, like gold, green and yellow snowfall. It was entirely different from the forest outside the palace boundaries, and Aragorn felt sad to leave it. But then it was on to the huge and ripe vegetable gardens, followed by endless flowerbeds filled with brilliantly coloured flowers, and butterflies that flittered from place to place. Through a garden of bee hives, which hummed busily and yet peacefully, and they finally ended up in the rose garden, where there were roses of every conceivable colour – snow white, lemon yellow, blood scarlet, pale pink, dark pink, lilac, peach, yellow edged with peach, white edged with pink, scarlet edged with lemon. Here Legolas flopped onto a wooden bench, and Aragorn joined him, smiling contentedly. There was a moment's silence before Legolas turned to Aragorn.

'So? Do you like it now?'

Aragorn could hardly find the words to describe what he felt about the palace and its grounds, everything was either clichéd or simply inadequate.

'It's…beautiful. Really, truly, beautiful.'

Legolas' gladness showed in his smile.

'Good. But now, the hour grows late, and you will wish a bath before the feast. There is no bathroom in your chamber…you may use mine. Come, let us hurry.'

Legolas leaped to his feet once more, and led Aragorn back into the palace through a side entrance. Through many mazelike corridors they wound, and up many staircases, until Aragorn, to his surprise for he had not recognized the corridor, found himself outside Legolas' bedroom door.

'I have towels you can use.'

The Prince let him inside, and immediately crossed the room to another door that Aragorn presumed to be a bathroom. He stepped further inside, and looked around the room. It was huge, far bigger than his own, and exquisitely beautiful. The ceiling was high and vaulted, and on it was painted images from the forest – trees, vines, birds and animals. On the stone walls were hung tapestries, on which were depicted battle scenes, and hunts. The outward facing wall was similar to Aragorn's, in that it curved onto a balcony. But there were no doors or windows. Instead, a tree grew diagonally across about a third of it, so that the setting sun cast flickering shadows across the floor. Across the rest of the gap was a wooden fence, made of polished mahogany, and carved to show branches with squirrels in them. It was about four feet high, and there was a hinged gate in the middle, which led out onto the balcony. A curved curtain rail ran along the inside of the ceiling, and gathered at either end were curtains similar to those in Aragorn's room. He floor was stone also, but several woven rugs covered it. A mahogany four-poster bed with an elaborately carved headboard stood against one wall in a corner, covered by an elaborately dyed and embroidered silk bedspread, in many hues of violet, blue and grey, and around it were silk hangings. There was also a wardrobe, several smaller cupboards, a throne-like wooden chair and an oak writing desk, upon which there was a swan feather quill, two glass jars of ink, a sheaf of parchment and a candle stand. There was another door in one wall, which Aragorn presumed led to a sitting room. Oil lamps hung from the walls, as did one or two portraits. Aragorn was just moving closer to look at one of these when Legolas came back into the room. Aragorn heard the sound of running water, and the sweet scent of rose flower bubbles drifted through.

'I have run you a bath – everything you need should be in there – call if it isn't. I shall wait in here.'

'Thank you.' Aragorn went into the bathroom, which was bright, airy and equally beautiful, though more private. The walls were stone, with wide windows hidden by semi-transparent curtains. The ceiling was, however, glass, and the overhanging branches made him feel as though his was bathing outside. The bath itself was huge, and sunken into the ground. Bubbled piled high on its surface, and Aragorn grinned as he slipped from his clothes, musing that Legolas' bathroom was almost as big as his bedroom. There was a sink in the corner, as well as a towel stand and a basket full of clothes. Aragorn sank into the heavenly water, watching the patterns the sunlight made through the trees in the ceiling. He was drifting into a state of bliss when he heard the door open, and sat up suddenly. It was Legolas, dressed only in a loose silk bathrobe, whose colour shifted from blue to violet as he moved. He carried over his arm two thick, fluffy white towels, and seemed utterly unperturbed to find Aragorn in the bath. Aragorn found his face going red.

'I forgot your towels.' He said matter of factly as he placed them a few feet from the edge of the bath. 'Is the water hot enough?'

'Yes, thank you' stuttered Aragorn in embarrassment, as Legolas left, closing the door behind him. He knew that the bubbles were covering him, but still. He hurried after that, washing his body, face and hair, before stepping out of the bath, hair clinging to his neck in curly tendrils. He wrapped himself in the thick, warm towels and gathered up his clothes, realizing with mild surprise as he left the room that the bath had emptied itself.

Legolas was sitting on his bed reading a letter, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed when Aragorn came in. He looked up and smiled at the man.

'You were quick.'

'I did not wish to keep you waiting.'

'There is no hurry. But never mind, I will wash now. If you dress for dinner I will collect you in a little while and take you there.

Aragorn nodded, aware that he was dripping water all over Legolas' floor.

'Thanks.'

He turned and left the room, walking the short distance to his own. He was dressed and ready to go by the time Legolas arrived to escort him to the hall. The elf smelled fresh, like apple blossom, and he wore a tunic of silver silk, lined with blue suede. His leggings were cornflower blue, his boots grey, and Aragorn couldn't help but think how well the colours suited the elf, who looked impeccable despite his still wet hair. Together they walked the short but confusing route to the hall.

The feast was much the same as the one the previous evening had been, and the after supper entertainment was similar as that of Rivendell. Aragorn found that he was genuinely enjoying himself, and knew that much of it was due to the companionship of Legolas, who he found intriguing, interesting, funny, friendly and kind. A delicious shiver ran down his spine as he imagined the days to come.