Gilded Rose of the House of Gondolin
By Ellie in ElfPajamas
For disclaimer and other information (Genre, Rating, Summary, Advisories) see first chapter.
Chapter three: A Feast Fit for a King
Legolas couldn't wait. He was not a very patient Elf, and he'd set out early for Faelon's home. Two days early, in fact. He wasn't going to wait for the rest of the party, he wanted to get there before Erestor killed all the deer. The messenger had told him that Faelon had seen the white deer, two thousand years without Elves to hunt them had made them bold. And numerous. A white deer hide was a rare trophy indeed, and Legolas was not one to pass up an opportunity such as this. He hoped Glorfindel and Erestor wouldn't mind him hunting as well. Legolas was a prince, and thus had many horses. He was riding a chestnut one today. This one was as silent and swift as a deer, and was his favored hunting mount.
As Naur crowned the small hill top and Legolas looked down into the valley below, he was amazed. Faelon had gotten really lucky, he decided. He could see servants going about their business, Faelon amongst them in his blue and gold. He saw Elladan on the doorstep, sharpening the heads of his arrows, and Elrohir was grooming his little mare, WhisperingSilver. Though hilltops were usually good for defense, the small fortress was idealy situated. Unless you were looking for it, it would escape your notice. The green stone almost blended into the forest, and the courtyard, though bustling with activity, would have been hard for any but Elven eyes to see. Legolas urged Naur to a trot and headed down into the valley toward the fortress.
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Faelon saw Legolas coming. It was hard to miss that fair hair against a backdrop of green. He opened the gates so Legolas could just ride right in. Erestor and Elladan looked up from where they were sharpening arrows. Legolas came riding in through the gate.
"Suilad, Lord Faelon!" he called. "You really lucked out, didn't you?!"
Faelon laughed.
"That I did. What brings you here early?" Faelon asked. "Any news from the palace?"
"I wanted to hunt the white deer before Erestor and Glorfindel got them all. No news except Calad's feeling better, and she's warned father about what she's going to do when she gets here." Legolas replied. "I thought I was going to have to get the healers, the way he reacted."
Faelon looked a little upset.
"But I jest. He took it well. Happilly too, I might add. You turning out to be a lord really helped, I'm sure." Legolas said, a smile creeping across his face. "How are you, Faelon? Anything interesting happen here?"
"I'm fine, nothing has happened since Lord Glorfindel stepped in the mopwater, though." Faelon said.
Glorfindel colored a little.
"Now Faelon, if you hadn't put that confounded bucket behind me that never would have happened!" Glorfindel retorted.
"And if you watched where you were going, my lord, you would have avoided the embarassment altogether." Faelon shot back, smirking.
Erestor laughed.
"And you tripped over a rug, Erestor, don't think I missed that!" Glorfindel said. "That's why Faelon kicked us out of the house so he could do the cleaning without us messing it up!"
Legolas laughed, sliding down from Naur's back.
"I see life is not without its little embarassments, my lords, but I hope there will be none further." Legolas admonished, leading his horse over to the stable.
Faelon followed the prince.
"Legolas, really, how did your father take it?" Faelon asked.
"Faelon, he was overjoyed. He was quite happy, and ordered the seamstresses to work faster. He's glad Calad has fallen in love with you and not someone he knows nothing about. He trusts you a whole lot more than I did." Legolas said, turning from Naur to Faelon.
Legolas' eyes said he was sincere. Like most of his kind, Legolas rarely showed emotion on his face. But his eyes could tell you what his face would not. He and Faelon looked as different as night and day. Legolas was fair, Faelon dark, Legolas stoic, Faelon always had a ready smile.
A commotion on the other side of the courtyard brought the unspoken communication to an end. Whisp was chasing Erestor in circles. Faelon laughed when the little mare nipped Erestor's shoulder. He hurried to the advisor's side and examined the bite. It wasn't too bad, it would be black and blue later, but Whisp's teeth hadn't broken the skin. Erestor was fuming. He wasn't that good with horses, his mount was one of the few who hadn't bitten him. Whisp had never liked him, and was very territorial. He'd come closer than she'd decided she liked.
Many preparations were being made for the Elvenking's arrival. Deer had been cleaned and butchered, many types of fowl were being readied for cooking. Erestor was in his element. He knew how to oversee these things, and was a good hand at turning fowl on the spits. Faelon had requested that one deer and three fowl be set aside for him to work with. At days end, three deer and twelve fowl had been roasted and packed away to keep them fresh. Night fell, and most of the household retired to their rooms. But not Faelon. He was dressing the fowl he'd set aside. Before Calad had learned to ride, he'd worked in the kitchens, where the wise older cook had taught him many secrets to the trade. He quietly mixed herbs and spices with butter, then rubbed them under the skin of the plucked fowl. He did the same with the other two, and started on the deer.
The pleasant aroma of spices and cooking fowl woke Glorfindel, who wandered down to see who was cooking at this hour of the night. He found Faelon in the kitchen, absorbed in his task. The half-Elf's hair was tied back, his sleeves rolled up and tied, the mortar and pestle sitting on the table in front of him, with various spices and herbs. Glorfindel listened as Faelon started to sing softly, trying to make out the words. They were in an unfamiliar tongue, which puzzled Glorfindel. Faelon had never been to a faraway country, he shouldn't know any languages that Glorfindel himself did not. Glorfindel recognized the names of some of the Valar in the song, but didn't know what they had to do with it. Glorfindel stood in the doorway watching, not knowing or caring if Faelon saw him there or not.
Soon one of the fowl was done, and Faelon laid it on the table.
"It's hot, but would you like to try it, Glorfindel?" Faelon asked, never looking up to the Elf in the doorway. "Come on, I know you're there."
Glorfindel laughed softly and stepped into the kitchen.
"It's a wonder half the household isn't down here to sample your cooking." Glorfindel laughed. "If it tastes half as good as it smells, we'll all become very fat Elves."
Faelon laughed, testing another fowl on the spit to see if it was done.
"I can't say as I agree with that, but it should at least be edible." he said. "Really Glorfindel, you shouldn't bother to waste your flattery on my cooking. Waste it on something more important, such as keeping in Erestor's good graces."
Glorfindel laughed and took a small piece of the fowl to try. He tasted it and gave Faelon a surprised look.
"Why do you downplay your cooking expertise? Don't want to be thought a maid for being an excellent cook?" Glorfindel exclaimed. "I don't think I've ever had anything quite like this."
"It's better cold on slices of bread." Faelon said simply. "And I can't claim the recipe as my own, it belongs to Thranduil's head cook, just slightly modified."
"You're an Elf of many talents, Faelon." said a voice from the doorway. "Any more I don't know about?"
With that Legolas darted into the kitchen and around Glorfindel to see if the Balrog Slayer had been exagerating.
Faelon laughed and handed Legolas a knief.
"Don't marr the bird, cut a piece rather than pull it apart." he said. "And yes, I have other talents. I can weave, tan leather, and do a bit of blacksmithing too."
Legolas laughed.
"Why blacksmithing?" he asked Faelon.
"Men shoe their horses. When I'm among the Rangers, occaisionally they have shod horses that need their shoes reset." Faelon said, putting the other two birds on the table. "I shoe Mithy and Shadow too. Just their forefeet. I shoe their forefeet to give them better traction on hard ground, and so that when I get in the middle of a fray I can make use of them almost as a weapon. Mithy was a little pigeon toed when he was small, I was able to correct that with shoeing."
Faelon started to cut the meat off of the cooked fowl, arranging it carefully on a plate. The wings he placed in the center of the circle of soft meat, making the tray look quite decorative. Legolas sat on a nearby countertop, avidly enjoying the slice of meat he'd been given to try.
"Faelon, you really shouldn't cook so well." Legolas groaned. "Even though Elves don't eat a lot, I know that if you let me I'd eat that until it made me sick!"
Faelon laughed. He put the tray out of sight and turned to Legolas.
"No, Legolas, you wouldn't. It starts to taste foul if you eat too much." Faelon said. "Calad likes it though, so I have to get a more suitable bird tomorrow to prepare for her. What you just sampled is tomorrow morning's breakfast."
Legolas groaned again.
"I have to wait until tomorrow?!" he whined. "You're so cruel!"
The laughter in his eyes contradicted the whining of his mouth.
Faelon picked up a wooden spoon and proceeded to chase the prince of Mirkwood up the steps to bed. Glorfindel chuckled and headed off to bed himself, his curiousity satisfied.
Erestor was sound asleep, no pleasant smells or sounds of laughter got to him, not with his pillow wrapped around his head. Faelon thought it was awfully quiet in the advisor's room, and checked up on him. He sighed and pried the pillow away from Erestor's face.
"For Eru's sake, Erestor! One of these days you're going to smother yourself." Faelon breathed, careful not to wake the sleeping Elf.
Erestor continued to sleep peacefully, but now with one arm dangling over the side of the bed rather than holding the pillow in so dangerous a position. His dreams were peaceful too, and pleasant. He was dreaming about Melannen. Dreaming about those long, dark gold curls and laughing blue eyes. In Erestor's dreams Melannen's hair floated around her like a sunset cloud as she spun and danced, the luxuriant curls bouncing and feathering out. He watched the sunset in her eyes, watched the starshine reflected in them. In his mind's eye there was none so fair as Melannen, not even Arwen, although Estel would heartilly disagree with that. He smiled in his sleep, remembering her unexpected kiss.
Faelon looked at Erestor's half lidded eyes, taking a guess at what the advisor was dreaming of. It was amusing, to say the least. But it also made Faelon glad that Melannen was probably coming with the royals, because that meant Erestor wouldn't have to sit next to Rinn. Faelon was in charge of seating arrangements, and he intended to put Rinn between Glorfindel and Elrond, and Erestor between Legolas and Melannen. That would be fun. Especially with Legolas seated beside Thranduil. And across from Rinn. That would be practically daring the mischeivious little Elf maid to shoot snowpeas at Legolas.
Faelon was not above trying to play match maker, nor was he afraid of angering Elf-lords, so he was certainly going to make sure Erestor wasn't lacking for intelligent conversation. Erestor rolled over and said Melannen's name. It was all Faelon could do not to laugh. He quickly left the room headed downstairs to attend to the roasting deer. Sometimes Erestor was too amusing for his own good.
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Faelon went hunting in the early hours of the morning while the dew was still in the undergrowth of the forest, and the birds were just beginning to stir. By the time the household woke, Faelon was already coming back in the gate with a large black swan. The bird had been easilly felled, he'd come upon it while it was still asleep. Shadow walked quietly into the courtyard bearing his master. Faelon dismounted, leading Shadow to the stable and feeding the horse, then headed up to the house with the bird. Rilaisseth looked at the bird questioningly.
"What did you want a swan for?" she asked.
"Caladriel. There's a special recipe of Nestoron's that she likes, I wanted to make it for her so she'll at least have something familiar to look at." Faelon said, laying the bird on the counter.
"Do you want me to pluck it?" Rilaisseth asked.
"No, I'll do it." Faelon said. "I hate being a lord and having nothing to do. I like to keep my hands busy."
He proceeded to pluck the bird's feathers and carefully lay them aside. It was a goodly sized bird, and he knew it would cook well. A half hour latter he started with the butter and spices, ignoring Rilaisseth's watchful eye. He added a spice she'd never seen added to the recipe before and Rilaisseth tried to correct his 'error'.
"Peace, Rilaisseth, it's what's known as a variation." Faelon said, then proceeded to further 'ruin' the recipe.
Rilaisseth shook her head, unable to believe that Faelon thought he knew what he was doing.
"You'll destroy the fowl, my lord." Rilaisseth sighed.
Glorfindel slipped into the room and started to prowl around like a cat on the hunt, looking for something.
"Faelon! Where is it? Where did you put it?" Glorfindel groaned, finally giving up.
Faelon laughed.
"Hold on, I'll go get it." Faelon said, leaving the kitchen.
He returned with the fowl he'd made last night so it would be cold today.
Glorfindel's eyes lit up.
"Ah ha, so you hid it!" Glorfindel teased.
"Yes, I didn't want to wake up and find that you and Legolas had left none for the rest of the household." Faelon laughed.
Rilaisseth snagged a piece as Glorfindel meandered off with the plate.
She tried it and sighed in defeat.
"Fine, Faelon, cook the bird any way you want." with that she followed Glorfindel to the dining hall.
Faelon started singing softly in that strange tongue again.
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Innas, Elrond, Erestor, Legolas, and Faelon were working out the layout of the feast. Faelon was a decidedly original half-Elf, and his plan was simple. Combine a lot of Elven traditions to suit what he had on hand space-wise. He wanted to make use of the garden and courtyard by setting up tables in them for the guests. That way the Mirkwood and Imladris traditions could be merged in a servicable and practical manner. Faelon was wearing his deep green hunting clothes, and was obviously quite ready to get dirty and physically help with the setup. Legolas too looked ready to pitch in. Innas was always ready for anything. He was an unusual looking Elf, slightly more burly than most because of the manual labor he often did.
Four and a half hours later, the courtyard and garden were hung with lights, tables were arranged, and decisions regarding the food and timing of courses had been made. Faelon had a smudge of dirt on his cheekbone, Legolas' blond locks were dirtied, and Innas had put holes in the knees of his leggings. Erestor and Elrond were completely unscathed, they'd been arranging the sources of illumination. Night was fast coming on, and all was ready for the next day.
The House of Beriorchan was at long last ready for the royal visit.
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Melannen rode beside the princess of Mirkwood, unsure of how to react to her invitation to the feast Lord Beriorgan had prepared. She'd been expressly invited, and didn't know what to make of it. Caladriel was a very happy, very cheerful she-Elf, which also slightly confused Melannen. She didn't particularly care for the steed she rode, either, the creature had a poor gait at the walk.
Erestor went about his business, attending to last minute preparations. There were very few things that had been forgotten, Faelon had seen to that, having checked and double checked. Erestor made sure that the firepit was full of hot coals for roasting meat, and made sure water was nearby incase any should singe themselves. Faelon was running around in his hunting clothes, the thorough and busy young lord had not yet found time to dress properly. Erestor watched in amusement as Elrond seized Faelon by his dark curls and dragged him (protesting all the way) toward the house. When Faelon returned he was clad in his blue and gold, his hair elaborately braided and pulled back away from his face and ears. He looked embarassed too.
The Elvenking's party had been sighted on the hilltop, prompting Glorfindel, Erestor, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, Estel, and Elrond to stand near to Faelon in the courtyard as they awaited the guests. Hemmed in between Faelon and Elrond (an uncomfortable place, to be sure), Erestor watched and waited, scarcely daring to think about hoping Melannen would be among the guests. She had told him that she'd once lived down this way, and although she hadn't said she wasn't going to return, he didn't think it was quite logical for her to be returning just yet. He knew Enetheru, Faelon's comical uncle, would certainly be in the party, and was hoping the cheerful sandy-haired Elf would sit by him rather than Rinn. Anyone would be better than Rinn, at the moment. Erestor shut his eyes for a moment, sending a silent prayer up to the Valar that the Elves he would be sitting with would not be a certain golden haired lord and dark eyed daughter of Elrond.
When Erestor looked up again, he thought he must have fallen asleep while praying again. Surely that couldn't be her! Why would she be riding at the princess of Mirkwood's right hand? She looked displeased with her mount, but she certainly looked real. Estel snickered behind him and Faelon gently nudged him with his elbow, a warm smile on his face.
"Erestor, you fool, go help the lady Melannen to dismount!" Faelon whispered through his teeth, keeping the smile pasted on.
Erestor felt a flush threaten to creep up his neck and fought it as he walked in what felt like slow motion to Melannen's side.
She looked just as surprised as he.
"Lord Erestor! I thought you and Lord Glorfindel were out hunting!" she exclaimed.
"We haven't left yet, we were helping Lord Faelon with the feast." Erestor said, surprised he sounded as calm and reassured as he did.
"Then that is my good fortune, it will be nice to speak with you." Melannen replied, equally surprised that her voice did not waver.
Erestor sent another prayer winging to the Valar that he'd be sitting with Melannen. He'd much prefer sitting beside her. Melannen slid lightly down from her mount's back, not needing Erestor to catch her. He did anyway. He'd had so much trouble with horses it was mere force of habit. Enetheru led his horse and Melannen's mount to the stables, leaving Melannen and Erestor standing there looking at each other.
"I missed you." Melannen ventured.
"And I you." Erestor replied, trying to think of words to say.
Faelon was having much more success, having known Caladriel since childhood, he had all the familiarity of those days to fall back on even now. He led her to the table, telling her of the happenings that she had not been present for. Her light laughter at the mishaps of Glorfindel and Erestor bounced off the walls of the enclosure. Melannen instinctively headed in Faelon's direction, knowing she should thank him for her invitation. Erestor followed like a loyal puppy. He merely wanted to be in her presence, wanted to listen to her words and admire her. He was naturally quiet, so it was obviously hard for him to really say anything to her.
Erestor was frightening himself with how fast he was becoming attached to this maiden. There were many maidens that he had once thought a great deal of, but this was the first one that had actually taken an interest in him. It was comforting, really, to know that someone liked him for who he was, not what he was. There were few who knew Erestor aside from being Elrond's advisor, and few that cared enough to know. It was nice to have respect, but respect without caring was just a nuisance. Given a choice, Erestor would rather have been well liked instead of respected. He hoped that the fact he was quiet would not drive Melannen away.
Faelon had managed to get place cards on the table before the guests arrived, and too late for Erestor to sneak a peek. He automatically looked for Rinn's placecard. His was not beside it, much to his surprise. The Rivendell Elves were dispersed among the company, not lumped together. Elladan and Elrohir were on either side of Enetheru, Estel was between Erestor and Legolas, and his name was between Estel and Melannen! Either the Valar had ordered it that way, or Faelon had known all along. The goodnatured sparkle in the young lord's eyes pointed toward the latter. The Elves milled about for a while, talking and seeking out friends, and then Faelon called them to the tables. Elladan and Elrohir were quite happy to be sitting beside Enetheru, for the tales he could tell, and Estel was overjoyed to be seated with his best friend. The seating arrangement looked random, though it was anything but. Only Rinn was displeased, she couldn't get away with much when seated at her father's side. Elrond was thankful to be able to keep an eye on his youngest daughter, Glorfindel was thankful to be sitting near someone who would keep his intake of wine to a minimum. Rinn looked longingly at the peas and then at Legolas. She really wanted to fling them, oh boy did she, but with her father watching her every move, it was out of the question.
Many delightful dishes were brought to the tables by the proud serving staff. Calad looked surprised to see her favorite dish set before her, but she knew Faelon had to have something to do with it. She looked at him with thankful eyes. Talk and laughter stretched long into the evening, as did the meal, but eventually all eyes turned to Faelon, and it was time.
"My Lord Thranduil, it has long been my intention, but only recently a proper one, to ask you for your daughter's hand in marriage. You are a wise king, and cannot have failed to notice that I love her. And so, my liege, I ask to marry your daughter. Do I have your blessing?" Faelon said simply.
Thranduil smiled.
"One need not be wise to see something not hidden. If my daughter is like minded to you, you have my blessing." the Elvenking said. "Although I already know she is like minded because she's been begging me for days."
Many of the Elven lords laughed, Glorfindel included. Erestor only smiled, it was rare for him to laugh. Calad looked at Faelon with impish eyes. Faelon grinned at his bride to be, knowing how determined she was. Her father was probably glad to be getting rid of her.
"That was adorable." Melannen giggled.
"Yes, it was. She can be funny at times." Erestor said, hiding a smile.
"So, are you and Glorfindel setting out tomorrow?" Melannen asked.
"Yes, have to bring those pelts back to prove to Elrond once and for all that I *can* hunt." Erestor joked.
"Erestor, if you step across my threshold in less than two weeks, I'll tie you up and lock you in a wardrobe." Elrond threatened. "At least until my two week vacation from advisors is up."
Melannen laughed.
"And supposing Beriorchan confiscates him first?" she taunted.
"Then I'll come for him." Elrond said. "I need him back eventually."
Erestor eyed Melannen in surprise. He wondered what she'd meant.
"Well, you may have to fight the realm of Mirkwood for him, he's quite entertaining and likable." Melannen said. "It's a wonder you dare let him out of Imladris."
Elrond's eyes twinkled.
"I only dare do so once every thousand years. Any less often and he gets cranky. Right, Erestor?" Elrond laughed.
"True, my lord." Erestor replied. "But suppose I decide I like Mirkwood better?"
"Ahh, then you'll have to find a way to visit me weekly." Elrond said. "I can't find advisors like you anymore, there's a shortage."
Erestor fairly glowed with pride. It was nice to feel needed.
"I know good advisors are hard to come by. But can we at least borrow him more often?" Melannen asked.
"I don't mind being borrowed unless it's for target practice." Erestor quipped, looking at Melannen.
The meal went on with the light hearted debate between the three Elves, the other two unknowingly building up Erestor's self-esteem.
Melannen and Elrond disappeared for a bit after the meal, and Erestor got a glimpse of them in animated conversation in an out of the way corner. He didn't try to insert himself, instead he watched as some of the Elves got the bright idea to have a dancing competition.
Elven lords and ladies spun and twirled late into the night under the friendly stars, Calad and Faelon, Erestor and Melannen among them. It was only in the early morning hours that they all said good night.
By Ellie in ElfPajamas
For disclaimer and other information (Genre, Rating, Summary, Advisories) see first chapter.
Chapter three: A Feast Fit for a King
Legolas couldn't wait. He was not a very patient Elf, and he'd set out early for Faelon's home. Two days early, in fact. He wasn't going to wait for the rest of the party, he wanted to get there before Erestor killed all the deer. The messenger had told him that Faelon had seen the white deer, two thousand years without Elves to hunt them had made them bold. And numerous. A white deer hide was a rare trophy indeed, and Legolas was not one to pass up an opportunity such as this. He hoped Glorfindel and Erestor wouldn't mind him hunting as well. Legolas was a prince, and thus had many horses. He was riding a chestnut one today. This one was as silent and swift as a deer, and was his favored hunting mount.
As Naur crowned the small hill top and Legolas looked down into the valley below, he was amazed. Faelon had gotten really lucky, he decided. He could see servants going about their business, Faelon amongst them in his blue and gold. He saw Elladan on the doorstep, sharpening the heads of his arrows, and Elrohir was grooming his little mare, WhisperingSilver. Though hilltops were usually good for defense, the small fortress was idealy situated. Unless you were looking for it, it would escape your notice. The green stone almost blended into the forest, and the courtyard, though bustling with activity, would have been hard for any but Elven eyes to see. Legolas urged Naur to a trot and headed down into the valley toward the fortress.
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Faelon saw Legolas coming. It was hard to miss that fair hair against a backdrop of green. He opened the gates so Legolas could just ride right in. Erestor and Elladan looked up from where they were sharpening arrows. Legolas came riding in through the gate.
"Suilad, Lord Faelon!" he called. "You really lucked out, didn't you?!"
Faelon laughed.
"That I did. What brings you here early?" Faelon asked. "Any news from the palace?"
"I wanted to hunt the white deer before Erestor and Glorfindel got them all. No news except Calad's feeling better, and she's warned father about what she's going to do when she gets here." Legolas replied. "I thought I was going to have to get the healers, the way he reacted."
Faelon looked a little upset.
"But I jest. He took it well. Happilly too, I might add. You turning out to be a lord really helped, I'm sure." Legolas said, a smile creeping across his face. "How are you, Faelon? Anything interesting happen here?"
"I'm fine, nothing has happened since Lord Glorfindel stepped in the mopwater, though." Faelon said.
Glorfindel colored a little.
"Now Faelon, if you hadn't put that confounded bucket behind me that never would have happened!" Glorfindel retorted.
"And if you watched where you were going, my lord, you would have avoided the embarassment altogether." Faelon shot back, smirking.
Erestor laughed.
"And you tripped over a rug, Erestor, don't think I missed that!" Glorfindel said. "That's why Faelon kicked us out of the house so he could do the cleaning without us messing it up!"
Legolas laughed, sliding down from Naur's back.
"I see life is not without its little embarassments, my lords, but I hope there will be none further." Legolas admonished, leading his horse over to the stable.
Faelon followed the prince.
"Legolas, really, how did your father take it?" Faelon asked.
"Faelon, he was overjoyed. He was quite happy, and ordered the seamstresses to work faster. He's glad Calad has fallen in love with you and not someone he knows nothing about. He trusts you a whole lot more than I did." Legolas said, turning from Naur to Faelon.
Legolas' eyes said he was sincere. Like most of his kind, Legolas rarely showed emotion on his face. But his eyes could tell you what his face would not. He and Faelon looked as different as night and day. Legolas was fair, Faelon dark, Legolas stoic, Faelon always had a ready smile.
A commotion on the other side of the courtyard brought the unspoken communication to an end. Whisp was chasing Erestor in circles. Faelon laughed when the little mare nipped Erestor's shoulder. He hurried to the advisor's side and examined the bite. It wasn't too bad, it would be black and blue later, but Whisp's teeth hadn't broken the skin. Erestor was fuming. He wasn't that good with horses, his mount was one of the few who hadn't bitten him. Whisp had never liked him, and was very territorial. He'd come closer than she'd decided she liked.
Many preparations were being made for the Elvenking's arrival. Deer had been cleaned and butchered, many types of fowl were being readied for cooking. Erestor was in his element. He knew how to oversee these things, and was a good hand at turning fowl on the spits. Faelon had requested that one deer and three fowl be set aside for him to work with. At days end, three deer and twelve fowl had been roasted and packed away to keep them fresh. Night fell, and most of the household retired to their rooms. But not Faelon. He was dressing the fowl he'd set aside. Before Calad had learned to ride, he'd worked in the kitchens, where the wise older cook had taught him many secrets to the trade. He quietly mixed herbs and spices with butter, then rubbed them under the skin of the plucked fowl. He did the same with the other two, and started on the deer.
The pleasant aroma of spices and cooking fowl woke Glorfindel, who wandered down to see who was cooking at this hour of the night. He found Faelon in the kitchen, absorbed in his task. The half-Elf's hair was tied back, his sleeves rolled up and tied, the mortar and pestle sitting on the table in front of him, with various spices and herbs. Glorfindel listened as Faelon started to sing softly, trying to make out the words. They were in an unfamiliar tongue, which puzzled Glorfindel. Faelon had never been to a faraway country, he shouldn't know any languages that Glorfindel himself did not. Glorfindel recognized the names of some of the Valar in the song, but didn't know what they had to do with it. Glorfindel stood in the doorway watching, not knowing or caring if Faelon saw him there or not.
Soon one of the fowl was done, and Faelon laid it on the table.
"It's hot, but would you like to try it, Glorfindel?" Faelon asked, never looking up to the Elf in the doorway. "Come on, I know you're there."
Glorfindel laughed softly and stepped into the kitchen.
"It's a wonder half the household isn't down here to sample your cooking." Glorfindel laughed. "If it tastes half as good as it smells, we'll all become very fat Elves."
Faelon laughed, testing another fowl on the spit to see if it was done.
"I can't say as I agree with that, but it should at least be edible." he said. "Really Glorfindel, you shouldn't bother to waste your flattery on my cooking. Waste it on something more important, such as keeping in Erestor's good graces."
Glorfindel laughed and took a small piece of the fowl to try. He tasted it and gave Faelon a surprised look.
"Why do you downplay your cooking expertise? Don't want to be thought a maid for being an excellent cook?" Glorfindel exclaimed. "I don't think I've ever had anything quite like this."
"It's better cold on slices of bread." Faelon said simply. "And I can't claim the recipe as my own, it belongs to Thranduil's head cook, just slightly modified."
"You're an Elf of many talents, Faelon." said a voice from the doorway. "Any more I don't know about?"
With that Legolas darted into the kitchen and around Glorfindel to see if the Balrog Slayer had been exagerating.
Faelon laughed and handed Legolas a knief.
"Don't marr the bird, cut a piece rather than pull it apart." he said. "And yes, I have other talents. I can weave, tan leather, and do a bit of blacksmithing too."
Legolas laughed.
"Why blacksmithing?" he asked Faelon.
"Men shoe their horses. When I'm among the Rangers, occaisionally they have shod horses that need their shoes reset." Faelon said, putting the other two birds on the table. "I shoe Mithy and Shadow too. Just their forefeet. I shoe their forefeet to give them better traction on hard ground, and so that when I get in the middle of a fray I can make use of them almost as a weapon. Mithy was a little pigeon toed when he was small, I was able to correct that with shoeing."
Faelon started to cut the meat off of the cooked fowl, arranging it carefully on a plate. The wings he placed in the center of the circle of soft meat, making the tray look quite decorative. Legolas sat on a nearby countertop, avidly enjoying the slice of meat he'd been given to try.
"Faelon, you really shouldn't cook so well." Legolas groaned. "Even though Elves don't eat a lot, I know that if you let me I'd eat that until it made me sick!"
Faelon laughed. He put the tray out of sight and turned to Legolas.
"No, Legolas, you wouldn't. It starts to taste foul if you eat too much." Faelon said. "Calad likes it though, so I have to get a more suitable bird tomorrow to prepare for her. What you just sampled is tomorrow morning's breakfast."
Legolas groaned again.
"I have to wait until tomorrow?!" he whined. "You're so cruel!"
The laughter in his eyes contradicted the whining of his mouth.
Faelon picked up a wooden spoon and proceeded to chase the prince of Mirkwood up the steps to bed. Glorfindel chuckled and headed off to bed himself, his curiousity satisfied.
Erestor was sound asleep, no pleasant smells or sounds of laughter got to him, not with his pillow wrapped around his head. Faelon thought it was awfully quiet in the advisor's room, and checked up on him. He sighed and pried the pillow away from Erestor's face.
"For Eru's sake, Erestor! One of these days you're going to smother yourself." Faelon breathed, careful not to wake the sleeping Elf.
Erestor continued to sleep peacefully, but now with one arm dangling over the side of the bed rather than holding the pillow in so dangerous a position. His dreams were peaceful too, and pleasant. He was dreaming about Melannen. Dreaming about those long, dark gold curls and laughing blue eyes. In Erestor's dreams Melannen's hair floated around her like a sunset cloud as she spun and danced, the luxuriant curls bouncing and feathering out. He watched the sunset in her eyes, watched the starshine reflected in them. In his mind's eye there was none so fair as Melannen, not even Arwen, although Estel would heartilly disagree with that. He smiled in his sleep, remembering her unexpected kiss.
Faelon looked at Erestor's half lidded eyes, taking a guess at what the advisor was dreaming of. It was amusing, to say the least. But it also made Faelon glad that Melannen was probably coming with the royals, because that meant Erestor wouldn't have to sit next to Rinn. Faelon was in charge of seating arrangements, and he intended to put Rinn between Glorfindel and Elrond, and Erestor between Legolas and Melannen. That would be fun. Especially with Legolas seated beside Thranduil. And across from Rinn. That would be practically daring the mischeivious little Elf maid to shoot snowpeas at Legolas.
Faelon was not above trying to play match maker, nor was he afraid of angering Elf-lords, so he was certainly going to make sure Erestor wasn't lacking for intelligent conversation. Erestor rolled over and said Melannen's name. It was all Faelon could do not to laugh. He quickly left the room headed downstairs to attend to the roasting deer. Sometimes Erestor was too amusing for his own good.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Faelon went hunting in the early hours of the morning while the dew was still in the undergrowth of the forest, and the birds were just beginning to stir. By the time the household woke, Faelon was already coming back in the gate with a large black swan. The bird had been easilly felled, he'd come upon it while it was still asleep. Shadow walked quietly into the courtyard bearing his master. Faelon dismounted, leading Shadow to the stable and feeding the horse, then headed up to the house with the bird. Rilaisseth looked at the bird questioningly.
"What did you want a swan for?" she asked.
"Caladriel. There's a special recipe of Nestoron's that she likes, I wanted to make it for her so she'll at least have something familiar to look at." Faelon said, laying the bird on the counter.
"Do you want me to pluck it?" Rilaisseth asked.
"No, I'll do it." Faelon said. "I hate being a lord and having nothing to do. I like to keep my hands busy."
He proceeded to pluck the bird's feathers and carefully lay them aside. It was a goodly sized bird, and he knew it would cook well. A half hour latter he started with the butter and spices, ignoring Rilaisseth's watchful eye. He added a spice she'd never seen added to the recipe before and Rilaisseth tried to correct his 'error'.
"Peace, Rilaisseth, it's what's known as a variation." Faelon said, then proceeded to further 'ruin' the recipe.
Rilaisseth shook her head, unable to believe that Faelon thought he knew what he was doing.
"You'll destroy the fowl, my lord." Rilaisseth sighed.
Glorfindel slipped into the room and started to prowl around like a cat on the hunt, looking for something.
"Faelon! Where is it? Where did you put it?" Glorfindel groaned, finally giving up.
Faelon laughed.
"Hold on, I'll go get it." Faelon said, leaving the kitchen.
He returned with the fowl he'd made last night so it would be cold today.
Glorfindel's eyes lit up.
"Ah ha, so you hid it!" Glorfindel teased.
"Yes, I didn't want to wake up and find that you and Legolas had left none for the rest of the household." Faelon laughed.
Rilaisseth snagged a piece as Glorfindel meandered off with the plate.
She tried it and sighed in defeat.
"Fine, Faelon, cook the bird any way you want." with that she followed Glorfindel to the dining hall.
Faelon started singing softly in that strange tongue again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Innas, Elrond, Erestor, Legolas, and Faelon were working out the layout of the feast. Faelon was a decidedly original half-Elf, and his plan was simple. Combine a lot of Elven traditions to suit what he had on hand space-wise. He wanted to make use of the garden and courtyard by setting up tables in them for the guests. That way the Mirkwood and Imladris traditions could be merged in a servicable and practical manner. Faelon was wearing his deep green hunting clothes, and was obviously quite ready to get dirty and physically help with the setup. Legolas too looked ready to pitch in. Innas was always ready for anything. He was an unusual looking Elf, slightly more burly than most because of the manual labor he often did.
Four and a half hours later, the courtyard and garden were hung with lights, tables were arranged, and decisions regarding the food and timing of courses had been made. Faelon had a smudge of dirt on his cheekbone, Legolas' blond locks were dirtied, and Innas had put holes in the knees of his leggings. Erestor and Elrond were completely unscathed, they'd been arranging the sources of illumination. Night was fast coming on, and all was ready for the next day.
The House of Beriorchan was at long last ready for the royal visit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Melannen rode beside the princess of Mirkwood, unsure of how to react to her invitation to the feast Lord Beriorgan had prepared. She'd been expressly invited, and didn't know what to make of it. Caladriel was a very happy, very cheerful she-Elf, which also slightly confused Melannen. She didn't particularly care for the steed she rode, either, the creature had a poor gait at the walk.
Erestor went about his business, attending to last minute preparations. There were very few things that had been forgotten, Faelon had seen to that, having checked and double checked. Erestor made sure that the firepit was full of hot coals for roasting meat, and made sure water was nearby incase any should singe themselves. Faelon was running around in his hunting clothes, the thorough and busy young lord had not yet found time to dress properly. Erestor watched in amusement as Elrond seized Faelon by his dark curls and dragged him (protesting all the way) toward the house. When Faelon returned he was clad in his blue and gold, his hair elaborately braided and pulled back away from his face and ears. He looked embarassed too.
The Elvenking's party had been sighted on the hilltop, prompting Glorfindel, Erestor, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, Estel, and Elrond to stand near to Faelon in the courtyard as they awaited the guests. Hemmed in between Faelon and Elrond (an uncomfortable place, to be sure), Erestor watched and waited, scarcely daring to think about hoping Melannen would be among the guests. She had told him that she'd once lived down this way, and although she hadn't said she wasn't going to return, he didn't think it was quite logical for her to be returning just yet. He knew Enetheru, Faelon's comical uncle, would certainly be in the party, and was hoping the cheerful sandy-haired Elf would sit by him rather than Rinn. Anyone would be better than Rinn, at the moment. Erestor shut his eyes for a moment, sending a silent prayer up to the Valar that the Elves he would be sitting with would not be a certain golden haired lord and dark eyed daughter of Elrond.
When Erestor looked up again, he thought he must have fallen asleep while praying again. Surely that couldn't be her! Why would she be riding at the princess of Mirkwood's right hand? She looked displeased with her mount, but she certainly looked real. Estel snickered behind him and Faelon gently nudged him with his elbow, a warm smile on his face.
"Erestor, you fool, go help the lady Melannen to dismount!" Faelon whispered through his teeth, keeping the smile pasted on.
Erestor felt a flush threaten to creep up his neck and fought it as he walked in what felt like slow motion to Melannen's side.
She looked just as surprised as he.
"Lord Erestor! I thought you and Lord Glorfindel were out hunting!" she exclaimed.
"We haven't left yet, we were helping Lord Faelon with the feast." Erestor said, surprised he sounded as calm and reassured as he did.
"Then that is my good fortune, it will be nice to speak with you." Melannen replied, equally surprised that her voice did not waver.
Erestor sent another prayer winging to the Valar that he'd be sitting with Melannen. He'd much prefer sitting beside her. Melannen slid lightly down from her mount's back, not needing Erestor to catch her. He did anyway. He'd had so much trouble with horses it was mere force of habit. Enetheru led his horse and Melannen's mount to the stables, leaving Melannen and Erestor standing there looking at each other.
"I missed you." Melannen ventured.
"And I you." Erestor replied, trying to think of words to say.
Faelon was having much more success, having known Caladriel since childhood, he had all the familiarity of those days to fall back on even now. He led her to the table, telling her of the happenings that she had not been present for. Her light laughter at the mishaps of Glorfindel and Erestor bounced off the walls of the enclosure. Melannen instinctively headed in Faelon's direction, knowing she should thank him for her invitation. Erestor followed like a loyal puppy. He merely wanted to be in her presence, wanted to listen to her words and admire her. He was naturally quiet, so it was obviously hard for him to really say anything to her.
Erestor was frightening himself with how fast he was becoming attached to this maiden. There were many maidens that he had once thought a great deal of, but this was the first one that had actually taken an interest in him. It was comforting, really, to know that someone liked him for who he was, not what he was. There were few who knew Erestor aside from being Elrond's advisor, and few that cared enough to know. It was nice to have respect, but respect without caring was just a nuisance. Given a choice, Erestor would rather have been well liked instead of respected. He hoped that the fact he was quiet would not drive Melannen away.
Faelon had managed to get place cards on the table before the guests arrived, and too late for Erestor to sneak a peek. He automatically looked for Rinn's placecard. His was not beside it, much to his surprise. The Rivendell Elves were dispersed among the company, not lumped together. Elladan and Elrohir were on either side of Enetheru, Estel was between Erestor and Legolas, and his name was between Estel and Melannen! Either the Valar had ordered it that way, or Faelon had known all along. The goodnatured sparkle in the young lord's eyes pointed toward the latter. The Elves milled about for a while, talking and seeking out friends, and then Faelon called them to the tables. Elladan and Elrohir were quite happy to be sitting beside Enetheru, for the tales he could tell, and Estel was overjoyed to be seated with his best friend. The seating arrangement looked random, though it was anything but. Only Rinn was displeased, she couldn't get away with much when seated at her father's side. Elrond was thankful to be able to keep an eye on his youngest daughter, Glorfindel was thankful to be sitting near someone who would keep his intake of wine to a minimum. Rinn looked longingly at the peas and then at Legolas. She really wanted to fling them, oh boy did she, but with her father watching her every move, it was out of the question.
Many delightful dishes were brought to the tables by the proud serving staff. Calad looked surprised to see her favorite dish set before her, but she knew Faelon had to have something to do with it. She looked at him with thankful eyes. Talk and laughter stretched long into the evening, as did the meal, but eventually all eyes turned to Faelon, and it was time.
"My Lord Thranduil, it has long been my intention, but only recently a proper one, to ask you for your daughter's hand in marriage. You are a wise king, and cannot have failed to notice that I love her. And so, my liege, I ask to marry your daughter. Do I have your blessing?" Faelon said simply.
Thranduil smiled.
"One need not be wise to see something not hidden. If my daughter is like minded to you, you have my blessing." the Elvenking said. "Although I already know she is like minded because she's been begging me for days."
Many of the Elven lords laughed, Glorfindel included. Erestor only smiled, it was rare for him to laugh. Calad looked at Faelon with impish eyes. Faelon grinned at his bride to be, knowing how determined she was. Her father was probably glad to be getting rid of her.
"That was adorable." Melannen giggled.
"Yes, it was. She can be funny at times." Erestor said, hiding a smile.
"So, are you and Glorfindel setting out tomorrow?" Melannen asked.
"Yes, have to bring those pelts back to prove to Elrond once and for all that I *can* hunt." Erestor joked.
"Erestor, if you step across my threshold in less than two weeks, I'll tie you up and lock you in a wardrobe." Elrond threatened. "At least until my two week vacation from advisors is up."
Melannen laughed.
"And supposing Beriorchan confiscates him first?" she taunted.
"Then I'll come for him." Elrond said. "I need him back eventually."
Erestor eyed Melannen in surprise. He wondered what she'd meant.
"Well, you may have to fight the realm of Mirkwood for him, he's quite entertaining and likable." Melannen said. "It's a wonder you dare let him out of Imladris."
Elrond's eyes twinkled.
"I only dare do so once every thousand years. Any less often and he gets cranky. Right, Erestor?" Elrond laughed.
"True, my lord." Erestor replied. "But suppose I decide I like Mirkwood better?"
"Ahh, then you'll have to find a way to visit me weekly." Elrond said. "I can't find advisors like you anymore, there's a shortage."
Erestor fairly glowed with pride. It was nice to feel needed.
"I know good advisors are hard to come by. But can we at least borrow him more often?" Melannen asked.
"I don't mind being borrowed unless it's for target practice." Erestor quipped, looking at Melannen.
The meal went on with the light hearted debate between the three Elves, the other two unknowingly building up Erestor's self-esteem.
Melannen and Elrond disappeared for a bit after the meal, and Erestor got a glimpse of them in animated conversation in an out of the way corner. He didn't try to insert himself, instead he watched as some of the Elves got the bright idea to have a dancing competition.
Elven lords and ladies spun and twirled late into the night under the friendly stars, Calad and Faelon, Erestor and Melannen among them. It was only in the early morning hours that they all said good night.