"Good morning," Elluin called to the head cook as she rushed into the kitchens of the Elvenking's palace in the foothills of the Dark Mountains. "Have the breakfast trays gone up yet?"
"Not a moment to spare, as you can see for yourself," Dinen answered, stray strands of her brown hair curling in the steam of the porridge she was quickly pouring into the row of bowls set out on the table. "What have you brought this time?"
"I found a wake-robin for King Thranduil," Elluin answered with a proud smile, setting the large white flower onto the most ornate tray. "The first bloom of the season." She stepped aside as other servants moved briskly to carry the trays up to their respective recipients with brief nods of thanks to Dinen. "I see most of the young beech leaves are ready to harvest if you want them for the evening meal."
"Thank you, Elluin. I'll send some of our young ones out this afternoon," Dinen answered, wiping her hands on her apron. A groan could be heard from the corner of the kitchen, where a dozen ellyn, ranging in age from barely twenty to forty summers and not yet at their full stature, were having their own breakfasts before starting their duties.
"No complaining!" the cook reprimanded, her brows knitting over stern green eyes. "If the king asks, I want to tell him his runners did a marvelous job at providing food for the palace." The subtle encouragement brought reluctant smiles to some of the young Elves' faces. Dinen motioned for Elluin to sit at a table where another palace servant named Turiel was busy with her meal.
Elluin started eating right away, drawing a laugh from her companion. "Darting about the woods so early gave you an appetite, it seems," said Turiel fondly. She reached over to pull a leaf out of Elluin's waving blonde hair, looking from it to her friend pointedly. "There has hardly been a day in the twenty years you have worked here that you have not brought a piece of the Greenwood with you, Elluin." They shared a smile as Turiel picked up her spoon again.
"I happen to love Greenwood, and it appears to return my sentiments," Elluin answered, running a hand quickly through her own hair to make sure no other twig or leaf had been caught in it during her search for flowers. "I spent the first fifty years of my life by the shores of the sea. The trees and I are still becoming acquainted, but they are lovely. And there are flowers here that I had never seen before." Her blue eyes sparkled with youthful enthusiasm.
"I should like to see the sea," Dinen said from her workbench, starting on the bread for midday. "I suppose we all will, someday."
Her musing was interrupted when a young elleth rushed into the kitchens. She wore breeches and a tunic instead of a dress for ease of movement, as she served as a runner. When she spotted Dinen, she jogged over. "Lord Galion says the king is to hunt today. The horses are already being prepared."
"Thank you. Have some breakfast." Dinen looked over at her assistant cooks to make sure they had heard the implied instructions to fill saddlebags with provisions for a small party on horseback. Satisfied, she turned back to her work.
"I wonder what they will be hunting?" Turiel said. "It's been three hundred years since the Enemy was overthrown, yet there are still reports of Orcs in the south. Or it could be venison." Turiel continued her meal, apparently not concerned.
"Now, that is one thing I miss about the Havens," Elluin admitted. "No Orc has dared to travel that far west for over an age, but they are still sometimes spotted here in Greenwood. I admit I am not very eager to meet one."
Galion, the king's steward, strode into the kitchens. His Elven senses had allowed him to overhear the conversation. "Whether Orcs or venison, the hunters will return with soiled clothes before dinner."
"A hearty supper then, and not too rich," Dinen offered.
"I shall set more baskets in the hunters' dressing rooms for the dirty clothes," Elluin added.
"And extra hay to rub down the horses, then," added a stable hand eating in another corner.
"Very good," Galion confirmed.
Another dark-haired Elf dashed into the kitchens, returning a breakfast tray. This time, it was an older ellon.
Observing the tray, Dinen looked concerned. "Sulros, was the king not pleased with his breakfast?"
King Thranduil's personal servant looked defeated once he'd caught his breath. "I'm sure it was fine, Dinen," he answered. "The king was not very hungry this morning." The way Sulros avoided eye contact suggested he was reluctant to betray a confidence.
The same thought passed through all their minds: Thranduil continued to be plagued by the deaths of so many of his people in the War of the Last Alliance. There were often days when he would send full trays back to the kitchen, adjourn council meetings early to seek solitude, or leave his rooms in the morning only for the servants to find his bed still made. The king must have ordered the day's hunt to help clear his mind. Tactfully, they did not pry Sulros for further details.
Galion interrupted their thoughts: "Sulros, you will take the king's oiled leather cloak on the hunt with you in case it rains. And a packet of lembas bread, and a bedroll, in case the party is drawn further abroad." One of the assistance cooks jumped to give Sulros the lembas, and another handed over two packed saddlebags.
A healer had come into the kitchens for some hot water. Having overheard, he quickly fetched another satchel from a corner cupboard and gave it to Sulros. "Healing supplies, in case someone is injured on the hunt."
Sulros sighed dramatically as he accepted the loads. "I had come down here to have some breakfast myself before we left, but it appears I will starve again today." This drew a chuckle from the younger Elves while Dinen rolled her eyes and Galion furrowed his brows with impatience. One of the young runners launched an apple at Sulros' head. He was, fortunately, able to shift his load just in time to catch it before it could smack him in the forehead. Laughing, he saluted the room. "I shall be hoping for a proper dinner!" he called as he left.
"Valar protect them," Galion said softly as he watched him go. Never a fighter, the steward always became nervous when his king left on potentially risky errands. Galion prided himself in his ability to provide for the needs of the palace, and he felt uncomfortably powerless when members of the court ventured elsewhere.
He quickly recovered his air of command. As the Elves had finished their meal, they stood awaiting their orders and Galion looked them over. Two of the kitchen workers quietly gathered the empty dishes to wash while Galion addressed them.
"A thorough cleaning of the king's rooms while he is gone," he started. "And we can take advantage of his absence by dedicating more staff to the forest today. Dinen, what do the kitchens need?"
"Elluin tells me the young beech leaves are ready, and the young ones have already been tasked with bringing them in," began the cook with a heavy look at the runners. "I could also use some birch sap, wild leeks, and fiddleheads. Maybe some wild carrots."
"And what from the healing rooms?"
"Our supplies of chickweed and yarrow are rather low," said the healer.
Galion assigned all the Elves to their tasks. Just like the rest of the staff, Elluin had dabbled in a variety of occupations as a servant. The cluster of interconnected talans and halls built both in the trees and below them had become comfortably familiar to her. Countless times, she had circled the trunks of the great trees bearing loads of linens, water buckets, platters of food, or healing herbs. As instructed, she avoided the members of the court, but her assignments often allowed her to learn from the most skilled older Elves in the Elvenking's employ, such as the cooks, healers, stable hands, weavers, and minstrels. However, Elluin was particularly pleased whenever her duties called her to the forest. The rumor of the Enemy had been largely hushed in this part of Greenwood since the War of the Last Alliance, and Elluin delighted in going with the Silvan Elves to sing to the trees and turn their thoughts away from the Shadow. She fancied that the woodland flowers, with their delicate perfumes and velvet petals, were proof that goodness and light had indeed triumphed.
Before the eager elleth could leave the kitchen, Gallion called her over. "Elluin, the table and chairs in the minor dining hall are showing their age. We had brought them from Amon Lanc," he told her with a melancholy smile, allowing himself a brief moment to remember the glorious old fortress that was the heart of Oropher's realm. "Please tell your father to meet with me tomorrow so we may arrange for him to build a new set. He is still woodworking, is he not?"
"Yes, my lord. He would certainly be honored."
Galion nodded with satisfaction. "I will have some lumber brought in. Now, off you go."
The hunting horn sounded by the main palace gate just after sunset. Elluin took her cue to rush into the king's dressing room, setting water to heat in the fireplace for bathing. She quickly glanced around to make sure she had missed nothing. After a moment's consideration, she quickly fetched a soft scrub brush and set it by the cloths beside the tub. Elluin had spent nearly an hour that afternoon scrubbing the tree sap, which was overflowing now in the early spring, off her own skin and clothes after so much climbing for beech leaves. She was certain the king would be similarly filthy after such a long hunt.
She managed to leave the chamber right before the sound of leather booted footsteps on the flagstones in the hall announced the approach of the king and his body servant. Elluin went to stand with her head bowed against the wall close to the door, beside the ellon who would attend to the king in his dressing room. She heard Thranduil and Sulros happily recounting the events of the hunt. Apparently, the king had shot down a particularly vicious wild boar. She smiled inwardly, knowing the day in the forest helped lift the king's mood.
A glance as the king strolled past her confirmed that the scrub brush would be very much needed. Besides the expected dirt and bits of forest, Elluin noticed that Thranduil's clothes had also been scratched open in various places by ambitious branches. Once the king had walked past, Elluin turned to the Elf beside her.
"Maethon," she whispered, "you will need a marigold paste for the king's scratches. I shall fetch some from the healers."
Maethon smiled at his companion. "You know, this is not my first time attending to the king after a hunt," he said quietly. He pulled a small jar out of his pocket.
"Right," Elluin smiled back.