First I must apologise for taking so incredibly long to update. Life's got a lot busier recently, but I'm doing my best I promise. This chapter was originally one long one which I've split in two so I'm going to get the next chapter to you as soon as possible, but after that it may be longer.
Secondly, I must thank María for her continuing help with this story. (I promise they'll go merrymaking soon!) And also to my fabulous new beta khazar who has been incredibly helpful and patient correcting my grammar, spelling and general wordiness. She's cracking down on my paragraph lengths so hopefully this will be much easier for you all to read.
Please, read on, and let me know what you think by clicking the little review button at the bottom. I mean it when I say 30sec of your day could completely make mine. Take care,
Emma x
The Start of A New Season
A week had passed, and Legolas had almost grown accustomed to his new routine working for his father. He hated every minute of it with a passion, resenting the fact that he could not be out in the Wood, and every passing hour seemed like an age; but Legolas could at least see that some of his work was being appreciated.
His day began at dawn, when he breakfasted, washed and dressed. An hour later he arrived at his father's study, ready for a day's work. Invariably Thranduil was there before him. Legolas remembered, from his infancy, going to sleep with his father still absent; and waking up with the Sun, only to often find him gone. Now he was beginning to appreciate why. The amount of work his father got through in a day was phenomenal. Not that he always read everything he was given, mind; but Legolas was amazed with the sheer volume of information Thranduil had to deal with. And he could always recall the tiniest details about anything.
This was not to say that the experience was turning into a pleasant one for the young prince. He was given the worst jobs to do, the ones Thranduil did not want to give to even his least favourite advisors. Legolas spent a lot of his time taking dictation from Thranduil, and then delivering these notes or long essays to their respective recipients all round the local area. Legolas noted that his father was careful never to give him any errand that would take him much further out into the forest or require him to need a horse. He was obviously not going to be forgiven quickly.
It was the first day of summer and Thranduil was in a foul mood. Legolas was not fairing much better; the sudden warmth had made him irritable because he could not rest during the night. That morning a message had arrived from some elves living deep in the forest who were having a dispute of some sort. Legolas had learnt early on that paying attention to the details and offering his opinion to his father was a very bad thing to do, so he usually tried to stay out of the way of things. He was reading through something he had written for his father, checking for mistakes and correcting them. All that was required was his father's signature, seal and then delivery. Legolas was not looking forward to leaving the study; it was north facing and stayed cool for most of the day. Outside the Sun was blazing down and even with the shade provided by the trees it was hot and humid, completely the wrong sort of weather for doing anything requiring movement.
Thranduil appeared to have stopped reading, so Legolas put the parchment on his desk for signing. The King absentmindedly picked up a quill and automatically placed his mark on the bottom before folding it for sealing.
"I shall deliver this now, Adar, if you wish," offered Legolas.
Thranduil removed his signet from the sticky red wax and held out the letter for his son. Legolas was about to take it when Thranduil stopped him. "Wait, someone else can take this. I want you to go through some books for me. These elves are trying to invoke an archaic law that has not been used since the last Age. I simply do not remember it ever being called upon before. Here is the letter, look it up for me will you? I want this done before the feast tonight."
"Yes, Adar, I will do my best."
Legolas was quite relieved by his father's decision. The one place in the building cooler than his father's study were the old rooms in the library that stored the ancient and fragile books of law from the last age. These rooms were kept completely dark and dry to preserve the yellowing pages. As Legolas stepped out from his father's office into the main passageway he thanked Elbereth.
It was almost noon, the air heavy and almost unbearable. Legolas' mind turned to the feast that night, hoping the weather would break before them. A thunderstorm to clear the air would be wonderful - except if it happened during the feast, of course.
After collecting the ancient keys from the Tirith e-Baif [Guard of the Books], Legolas picked up a lit candle with a guard carefully placed around it. He did not want to be held responsible for burning down thousands of years of records because of one stray spark onto a dry piece of parchment!
Legolas held the candle in one hand and squinted at the faded letters on the spines of folios containing every single obscure law that was no longer needed in peacetime. The air was dry and dusty and stuck to his throat. Legolas coughed, but this only sent further streams of dust up into the air, making things even worse.
"I should have brought some water," Legolas mused aloud. His voice echoed through the rooms, first once and then several times until all that could be heard was "water" sounding pitifully, like someone whose body has been denied liquid for days. Peering into the almost pitch-black darkness, Legolas walked into unseen tables and chairs several times while he went up and down the stacks of books and loose-bound folders. He could smell the old leather that was used for covers and the now all- too-familiar smell of ink. Moving slowly so he could be more careful, Legolas finally caught sight of the probable volume he needed.
But next to it was an equally interesting tome - "Military Command Structure". Buried deep in Thranduil's pile of work to do was a letter from the commander of his guard, asking exactly what punishment the King wished to bestow on the three doeg [soldiers] that had absconded from duty when returning with Legolas. Thranduil was still thinking up something suitably penal for them to do whilst they were suspended from duty and sweating over what was to happen to them. Legolas hoped he could find something in the folder that could be of use to them, perhaps preventing Thranduil being quite as severe with them as Legolas knew he wished to be.
Weaving his way through the shelves back to the entrance Legolas placed the volumes down and set the candle next to him so he could use the dim light to read. First he dealt with the matter he had actually been sent to do. And simply enough there was an entire section on the obscure law Thranduil wanted, and even one or two cases where it had been applied.
Pulling the melting candle closer to him, Legolas leant over the desk and studied the second, quite slim, book. It had been written before the army of Greenwood the Great had marched off to Mordor, his father and Oropher at the head, the march from which so few returned. No one talked much about that time in the history of the elves; it was a time of deep sadness and disaster for the realm. It was impossible to mention Oropher around Thranduil without his face going pale and an iron grill seeming to form in front of his eyes.
It was something no one spoke of, even though there were so many reminders of it in everyday life - the elves without fingers, or worse, whole limbs absent; the families missing fathers or sons; the removal of all the elves to the northern parts of the wood. Legolas sighed. He had been born feeling the loss of those elves too, even though it was over eight hundred years before his birth. It was something that the elves of the Greenwood could never escape from.
Turning back to the book, he looked over page after page until he found a section entitled "The Role of a Prince". It was written in the Silvan tongue and Legolas struggled with some of the legal words cluttering every sentence, but he caught the general gist of things. He smiled to himself. This was exactly what he needed to help the guards. He was not sure how his father would react to being undermined by an archaic rule that should have been revoked hundreds of years ago.
Legolas checked the end of the text. It was customary if law had been negated for someone to send it to Thranduil for signing, with an amendment or a line to say where the current law could be found. There was nothing of the sort for this statute, so technically it was still in force. Legolas paused for a minute, deciding whether it was a good idea to use it considering his father's current mood; but now that he had seen it, how could he deny its existence and let whichever foul penance Thranduil chose be effected by the guards? Deciding quickly what to do, Legolas shook his head, marked the pages in both the volumes, and picking up the candle he stumbled his way back into the light, guided by the slim cracks of white that illuminated the edges of the door.
The first thing that hit him was the sticky heat. Just carrying the books caused a sheen of sweat to break out on his brow. Blowing out the candle Legolas turned his head to avoid breathing in the smoke and then locked the door behind him. He returned the key to the Tirith e-Baif. "May I take these to the King?"
The age-old elf nodded. "Of course, but keep them out of the sunlight and make sure you have them back here today, or the paper will start to disintegrate."
Legolas thanked him and went as quickly as he could through the corridors to his father. Slipping in through a side door into the study in case there was someone sitting with his father, Legolas settled his things and one thin book on the small table that had become his desk.
Thranduil looked up from his work. "Have you found that law?"
Legolas held the book towards him and opened it at the page he had bookmarked.
"Excellent, excellent," Thranduil muttered, reading rapidly and turning over the pages one after the next. He came to the end of the section and looked up. "Well done, Legolas, this is exactly what I needed. It did not take you that long, either; perhaps I shall send you down to the library more often."
Legolas noticed that his father had left the volume open. A shaft of sunlight streamed in through the window and straight onto the pages.
"Excuse me sir, but the librarian said not to leave the books in the sunlight and he wishes them back before the festival tonight."
Thranduil's attention had been drawn back to the pages again and he scribbled notes onto a scrap piece of parchment. Then something clicked in his brain.
"Books, Legolas?"
Legolas shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, Adar. You see, next to that book I found this one too." He quickly turned back to his desk and picked up "Military Command Structure". "I think you should read this little section here, Adar, if you do not mind the suggestion."
Thranduil made a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat as Legolas handed him the open page. Legolas watched as his father's eyes went wider and wider and the colour rose in the King's cheeks.
"What is the meaning of this?" Thranduil's anger was barely restrained. "I am not in the mood to be trifled with!"
"Well, Adar, I do not understand all the complicated legal cant, but I think it means that if I said those guards could have two days leave, then if you disagree it is me you punish, not them."
"Legolas, this was written at the end of the last age. It was meant for me to be able to command the army in the Last Alliance. What are you trying to do?" Thranduil's anger was still threatening to boil over.
Trying to ignore his tone, Legolas continued with his petition. "As you can see from this, Adar, a prince is given the automatic ranking of Gonuithírith [Commanding Guard] in the army. I outranked all three of the elves. They cannot be held responsible for their actions."
"What?"
"If you wish to punish anyone for the disappearance of those three guards, then it is me you should punish."
"Do not be ridiculous, Legolas," Thranduil said sharply. "This law is hundred of years old. It must have been revoked centuries ago."
"There is no signature at the end, Adar, no reference to anything at all." Legolas voice was calm and flat, trying not to betray his nerves at confronting his father in this manner.
"So," said Thranduil, equally as coolly, "am I to believe that you wish for those three guards to be returned to duty, nothing marked on their records and for them carry on as before?"
"Yes Adar."
"And you will accept the punishment that I give you in this matter."
"It was my understanding I was already being punished for leading insubordination in your troops," Legolas said smoothly.
Thranduil's eyes flared as he heard his own words being used against him. He studied his son's face. There was defiance in Legolas' eyes, but he could see the fear and uncertainty that filled them too. For a moment Thranduil was ashamed. His son had a legitimate reason for confronting him and he was afraid of his own father.
Thranduil closed his eyes. There was nothing he could do except return the guards to duty and apologise to them for the fact they had been disciplined for nothing. As for Legolas, again he was powerless not only because of the law and his own actions, but Malnarthan was barely speaking to him as it was. If he punished Legolas further she would never talk to him again. Closing his eyes, checking his temper and feelings, Thranduil breathed out and then in again.
Legolas watched his father's movements closely. Thranduil's chest moved out considerably as he took a deep breath. Legolas prepared himself for the loud tirade that was to follow.
Inwardly Legolas winced and waited, but the noise never came. He focussed on his father and saw Thranduil was looking almost kindly at him. There was even the possibility of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
"Why not go and get ready for the festival tonight ionnen [my son]?" Thranduil's voice was strangely soft and gentle.
The use of the endearment so little used recently confused Legolas. "But it is only early afternoon Adar, it is barely past noon." Legolas' face fell, "Have I…? Are you very…"
"No Legolas, I am not angry, no more that I was this morning when this stupid dispute came in. You used your initiative and helped elves that you barely even know. If anything I am pleased with you. No, that is not the right word." Thranduil considered for a moment. "Proud. I am proud of you Legolas." His son's face cracked into a beautiful smile, and it was matched by Thranduil's. "Now go, before I change my mind."
"But all the letters?"
"I can write perfectly well myself when needs must," Thranduil scolded gently, "and I will see the books are returned before tonight."
"Thank you Adar," Legolas said, meaning every word. He gave his father one more smile, turned and half-ran from the room. As he closed the heavy main door behind him Legolas could have sworn he heard his father chuckle.
Legolas sang as he walked along the forest paths. He went to the kitchens and sweet-talked the cooks into giving him food. He ate sitting on a branch high above the roof of his talan, listening to the tree and feeding the occasional bird that came to say hello. When he was done, clouds had begun to gather in the sky. He was relieved that the air would be clear and cool that evening as the entire area converged for the festival.
Gripping the branch behind his knees, Legolas let his body fall backwards. Arms reached for the branch below. With a speed that betrayed the number of times he had done so, Legolas swung, criss-crossed, down through the tree until he flew through the nearest window of his flet and landed on his feet in the middle of his bedroom.
Sighing contentedly, he decided to go to the bathing houses while they would still be quiet. It was too hot to ask the servants to bring up pitchers of warm water for his bath when natural hot water sprung up from underneath the forest itself. The baths would be quiet as it was still early; even the most vain ellith [she-elves] would not start their rituals until much later and he could spend some time on his own. Legolas shed his clothes, opting instead for a loose-fitting pair of breeches and some soft shoes. Swinging a bag of soaps and lotions he descended from his flet by the stairs and made off in the direction of the baths.
The path led in the direction of the mountains in the middle of the Greenwood, and along the shaded walkway Legolas realised that this was the furthest he had been from any member of his family in the past week. He was going to wash but to him it was more than that. He had barely been left alone all week, except when working for his father or resting at night. It was a small freedom, but Legolas would take as much advantage of it as possible.
The evenings had been filled with large meals in Court with his parents and sometimes Thalion and Eiliant; and then introductions to what seemed to be every unmarried, young elleth [she-elf] in the Wood. Some were as embarrassed as he about the entire situation and their scheming parents, but many wore their hair in the most ridiculous styles in of catching his attention. In truth, almost all of them had merged into one - a nightmare elf that Legolas could never consider speaking to, let alone marry. Which, of course, was his father's ulterior motive for these nights.
Legolas continued to muse on this subject and the she-elves the coming night would bring until he reached the baths. Finding them completely empty except for a couple of attendants who brought towels and ensured no one drowned, Legolas collected a towel and undressed. He carefully folded his breeches and stowed his shoes in a small cupboard before walking down a set of steps into the water, leaving his small bag on the side.
Although it was a hot day, the water was hotter still. Legolas hissed as the heat hit his skin. Finally he chose to bend his knees and submerged himself right up to the neck. His body shivered from the shock of the sudden temperature change. Legolas reached back, removed the braids from his damp hair and combed them out with his wet fingers. Leaning back even further, he submerged all his hair into the water, right up to his forehead. Standing back up, the water came to just below his navel. Legolas pushed the drips of water from his forehead and eyes and walked out into the middle of the main pool. It was large enough to accommodate a hundred people around the edge, and even more in the middle.
This was where Legolas went, as the water was warmer and deeper where it bubbled up into the pool. He felt the hotter water before he felt the strong current where it came up to the surface. With one more check around to reassure himself that he was truly alone and there was no one lurking in the quiet corners, Legolas dived under the water to the bottom and curled himself up in a ball. Suddenly the surging water caught him. Twisting and turning, it launched him upwards, driving him free of the surface.
Legolas laughed. Riding the surge was a favourite trick of the young elflings. He had always loved the thrill of being completely out of control - just for a fleeting moment, until natural buoyancy took over and propelled him away from the dangers.
Legolas finally put his feet down a few feet away from the centre. Here he had to stand on the tips of his toes as the water came up to his shoulders, so he moved by bouncing from foot to foot in the water. The floor of the pool was carefully carved out and smoothed down, but every so often he would come across a stray stone and it pressed sharply into his foot causing him to hop once more.
Legolas looked up at the clouds rolling in. He let his body tilt backwards in the water until he was lying on his back. He skimmed his arms up to his head, just under the surface of the water and felt his hair fan out into a soft halo. Legolas then rested his hands on the bottom of his ribs and curiously felt them through the wet skin.
Drifting on the current, his attention turned back to the sky and the gathering black. That morning, the sky had been clear blue, with only a few wispy clouds high up; but now there were great, fluffy ones covering the blue, their edges a threatening grey.
The sky had turned almost completely flat charcoal colour before Legolas was brought out of his thoughts by his feet scraping on the edge of the pool. He had been engrossed by the way the clouds moved and gathered, and he had been making shapes in the clouds. Despite the small breeze that had sprung up, the only sounds were the rippling of the water as it sloshed out of the pool and across the deck where he had disturbed it with his antics and the breeze slipping noisily through the trees and blowing off handfuls of blossoms. There were no bird sounds, no animal noises; they had presumably taken refuge before the impending storm.
He pushed his legs over his head and turned a backward somersault in the water and as he put his feet back onto the bottom and blinked a couple of times he remembered what he was doing and why. Legolas decided to follow their lead. The forest animals were invariably correct when it came to predicting the weather. He swam back to where he had originally left his bag and took out his soaps. Standing up in the shallows he lathered up the soap in his hands and began to spread it across his body, starting with his arms and chest, then down his legs and up to his back. He dived carefully, aware of the shallowness of the water and rinsed himself. Coming back up he lathered a lotion in his hair and dived once more in a different direction to rid himself of the suds. Finally, sitting on the side, shivering in the breeze, he washed his ankles and feet carefully getting out all the soap between his toes. He kicked his feet in the water, splashing everywhere to make sure he was clean. He swivelled around to bring his feet onto the dry decking and stood up. Dripping, he strode across to his towel and clothes, wringing out his hair as he went.
Looking at the sky he knew he had to hurry if he wanted to make it back to his flet before the skies opened and the downpour began. As the first distant crack of thunder could be heard, he realised his leisure time was over. Hurriedly pulling on his breeches and shoes, depositing his towel in a basket to be washed, he left the bathing house. The claps of thunder got louder and nearer and he reached his flet just as the first large drops of rain began to fall.
Legolas ran up the steps two at a time and dashed inside so he did not get a second bath. He went to his bedroom and picked up a wooden comb and began to brush out his long, blonde hair. It snagged on a large tangle and Legolas set it down to take a closer before carefully separating the individual hairs from the knot. He took up the task again and brushed the rest of his hair straight to let it dry in the air.
Legolas realised he was shivering. The hair was damp on his bare back and the window was open, letting in the cold breeze from the Misty Mountains. Legolas had not realised how cold he actually was. He moved to close the offending window and then stripped himself of his breeches once more, choosing instead a warm robe which he wrapped around his body as his hair dried. He left his bedroom and wandered into the main day room of his flet.
He picked up a book he had half-finished and absentmindedly started to stare at the pages, occasionally turning them. An unexpectedly loud clap of thunder nearby startled him. It was not totally safe to be in the trees; he should have gone somewhere else; but Legolas ignored the warning at the back of his head, in favour of the staying and flicking through the story of Gondolin. If he had read the story once he had read it tens, maybe hundreds of times admiring the bravery of the elves of the Elder Days fighting a foe as great as Elbereth herself, of not greater. As a boy he had always wanted to be brave Tuor who wedded the beautiful Idril and led the survivors out of the city through a secret passage. It was Glorfindel, the same elf he had met in Rivendell, who had fought and died saving them all from a Balrog. It was hard to believe that such a battle had even taken place; Legolas had so little knowledge of strife in his life, and the small trouble he now had with his father seemed inconsequential.
His room lit up as lightning forked to the ground close by. He heard the explosion of the boiling tree sap over the clap of thunder. This was enough for Legolas. Gondolin was forgotten. Pulling on some sturdy boots he ran from his flet to huddle on the ground with some of the nearby elves.
All around them flashes of light were followed by immediate bangs. The patter of the rain was like an accompanying drone to the music of the horn of Tauron [Sindar name for Oromë of the Valar] as he rode hunting on his glorious steed. Shivering together, the elves massed in a small clearing surrounded by tall trees as the storm passed over. Slowly the lightning became less intense, no longer burning twisted images onto their eyes, and the thunder started to lag behind his mate, for he could never overtake her swift light. Eventually the elves dispersed back to their flets and returned to whichever job they had left undone, dropped to the floor as the storm became violent. Legolas returned to his flet, changed again into another dry robe, and combed his hair once more, before settling back down to his book as his hair commenced to dry once more.
As Tuor and Idril sailed West in their great ship there was a knock at Legolas' door and a servant entered. "Begging your pardon, highness, but it is late and you should be dressed for the feast tonight. Have you decided what you wish to wear?"
"Is it that time already?" Legolas said, mainly to himself. A swift glance out of the window showed him that the clouds had cleared, the birds sang and the air was sweet and cool. He marked his place in the book and followed the servant who was already preparing to help Legolas get dressed. His clothes had been unpacked from the trip to Rivendell days ago, but they had now been washed and their creases from the journey removed. Legolas chose the elaborate soft blue-grey tunic and breeches he had worn on their last night in Rivendell.
As he pulled the clothes on he wondered how exactly he would get through the night. He had no reason to excuse himself early, he had been resting the whole afternoon and his father would never believe him if he said he was tired. He knew he would not return to his flet until the early hours of the next day and dreaded what could be many long hours in the company of so many he disliked. Legolas would have to grin and bear everything the night threw at him.
He sat still as he let the servant braid his hair. He foraged in a drawer for the silver circlet his father ordered him to wear on big feasts like this. It was heavy and the edges of the leaf design pushed into his skin. By the end of the night there would be little dents and some bleeding on his forehead from the circlet.
As Legolas pulled on his boots Thalion barged into the flet. Legolas turned at the sudden intrusion, but smiled to see his elder brother standing there with an enormous grin on his face. Eiliant stood by his side, looking radiant as she always did for events such as these.
It was she who spoke first. "Are you nearly ready Legolas? We thought we would stop by and you could walk with us to Lant Hilivren [Glittering Clearing]."
Legolas smiled at her kind offer.
"Come, Legolas! Anyone would think you did not wish to go tonight!" Thalion said facetiously.
His little brother simply glared back at him with the full force of anger in his eyes. Thalion laughed heartily.
Legolas decided to defend himself. "It is fine for you two. You can talk to each other all night and if you only dance one dance and that one together no one will think any the worse of you. I will have to dance every single one with a gaggle of ellith [she-elves] I do not know or wish to know."
"Oh Legolas," Eiliant said, "it will not be that bad. I am sure Thalion and I can rescue you at some points. No one would dare ask you to dance when you are talking to your brother."
"And if it is any compensation," added Thalion, "this was exactly what it was like for me when I had just come of age. You should take Adar's advise and find yourself a wife if you want it all to go away!"
Legolas made a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat, surprisingly similar to the ones his father made, and finished lacing his left boot. He stood and examined his appearance in a mirror fixed to the wall. He straightened the circlet on his brow and frowned as it pressed into his head.
Thalion came up silently behind him and turned his little brother's body to face his. He pulled up Legolas' collar, then settled it down flat again, smoothing it against his collarbone. "There, perfect."
Legolas murmured his thanks to his brother.
"You will have every elleth after you tonight!" Thalion darted away as Legolas tried to swat him. Thalion ran down the steps, his little brother hot on his heels. As Thalion reached the ground Legolas jumped the last few steps and landed on his brother's back. This unexpected weight caused Thalion to over-balance and they ended up in a heap on the ground. Wrestling together, tickling each other, their laughter rang through the trees.
Eiliant came gracefully down the steps. Seeing the two in a messy heap on the grass she grabbed the collar of each and pulled them apart. Once they were on their feet Eiliant scolded them both gently and reset their hair and clothes, which she examined for grass stains. Legolas was feeling less downhearted as they wound their way through the trees to the big glade used for the festival occasions in the Greenwood. As they approached Legolas could already hear the buzzing anticipation of the elves gathered there.
The three of them came to the end of a line of elves waiting to enter the Lant Hilivren. There was only a small archway in and out of the clearing. The rest was a mixture of tall beech and oak trees, the ones predominant in the Wood, and lines of high hedges. Legolas listened to the conversations around him. The people were excited, expectant of a good night to come and their faces were alight with anticipation. The queue moved quickly and soon enough Legolas found himself stepping into the glade.
On the ground was a blanket of soft grass that glistened as the evening light scattered off the beads of water remaining on the stalks. The sweet smell of the wet green carpet filled Legolas' nose and he breathed in deeply, packing his lungs and savouring the moment. He followed his brother and Eiliant in the direction of the High Table, but his attention was on the glade.
Every year it took his breath away because each year the scene was different. The trees grew and changed, netting their branches together in even more elaborate ways than before, and each year had different levels of blossom. Last year they had walked on a floor formed by the tree flowers, but this year almost all the blossom was still on the trees. As the wind blew, little lines of pink and white petals came floating down onto the elves below.
There were tables laid in straight lines all through the glade and these were filling up. Whole families, complete with even the smallest babes in arms, friends and loved ones greeted each other with joy. Legolas guessed the number present. There must have been a few hundred, the whole population within about an hour's ride of the Halls. Legolas marvelled at the achievement of feeding so many, but he knew that things had been being prepared for days.
Walking into the corner of a table brought Legolas from his reverie. He looked to find Thalion and Eiliant many steps in front of him. Legolas quickened his pace and came up behind them both as they were in quiet conversation with each other. He followed them to his seat, almost at the centre of the long table that commanded a view over the whole glade. It was set for Thranduil and his family, plus many of the important advisors and nobility of the Wood and their relations. It was perpendicular to the others at one end of the clearing under the boughs of a great oak tree. Legolas saw that many were sat there already, including his father and mother. Thranduil was surveying a small part of his kingdom with a serene, pleased look on his face while Malnarthan was in animated conversation with someone further down the table over the empty seats that would soon be filled with her family.
Her conversation came to an end as Legolas, Thalion and Eiliant approached and she smiled at them, her two precious sons and the daughter she never had. Malnarthan's parents had sailed West a long time ago and Thranduil's mother had made the journey a short while after Oropher died. Malnarthan looked at Legolas as he walked towards her, pulling out a chair next to her. Thalion and Eiliant swept past her, Thalion pausing briefly to kiss his mother's cheek, before going to the other side of Thranduil where their seats were. Legolas pulled the chair closer to the table, rearranged the cutlery he had disturbed and straightened the circlet on his forehead. He wrinkled his nose as edges dug into the skin and Malnarthan was shocked by just how much he looked like Oropher in that instant.
She touched him gently on the arm. "Tomorrow I will take that to have the edges softened. You wince every single time you wear it and I cannot bear to watch any longer." She smiled and kissed the soft hair that fell in short wisps in front of his ear.
"Sorry Nana," Legolas said sheepishly. "Whenever I get home from one of these nights I fling it in the box in frustration and forget about it."
Her laugh tinkled gently. "Then I shall take it from you before you leave tonight so you do not forget." She narrowed her eyes and scrutinised his appearance once more. "You look uncomfortable, and not because of the circlet."
Legolas shifted in his seat under her gaze. There was a pause as Legolas knew his mother wished an answer and she would not let it drop until she knew the truth.
"I am looking forward to celebrating this night, but it would be a falsehood to say that I thought I would enjoy the whole evening." Legolas eyes darted down the table. He observed an elleth sitting down with her father and mother further along the table. He had already been introduced to her and during that week he had been buttonholed into agreeing to have the first dance with her. His father and her father had been present when she had cornered him in the corridors surrounding his father's study. Legolas felt Thranduil's gaze turned on him, and there was nothing to do but thank her and agree.
He could have paid her a compliment or expressed anticipation for the night, as Thranduil had told him later, but Legolas could not bring himself to offer her any encouragement. This girl was one of the worst elleth he had ever met. She had been utterly spoilt by her father as she grew up, having all the best lavished on her since birth.
Malnarthan nodded knowingly, following her son's gaze. "I see," she said. "And so I gather that you do not wish to dance with Galuwen [Blessings]."
"Naneth, you jest!" Legolas cried a little too loudly and then he hushed his voice. "If Adar is so desperate for me to find a wife then the least he could do is introduce me to elleth that I can stand being in the presence of for more than a passing moment!"
Malnarthan looked seriously at her son. She and Thranduil had called a truce as far as Legolas was concerned, but that did not stop her worrying. Malnarthan did not want anything more in the world than to see her son happy and married, but if it took him a few years or even a few hundred years, she would be patient. Thranduil, on the other hand, saw Legolas' marriage as a chance for redemption, more now so than ever before, because it would be a sign that the Rivendell incident was in the past, that it was all childish pranks. Legolas' marriage would be the end to all of that, his final transition into adulthood. Legolas was their last child; it was hard on both of them to see him growing up and coming of age. Now he was virtually independent and made his own decisions about what he did, where and when.
Malnarthan had suspicions about Thranduil's motive to his son's introductions. Either he introduced him to the most awful ellith the Wood had to offer so Legolas would not get married, or it was one last attempt to have influence in Legolas' life. It was these considerations that had forced Malnarthan to relent in her anger towards her husband. She had started to pity him and could no longer look at him and see red. When she looked at Thranduil all she wanted to do was take his silly face between her hands and kiss him on the end of the nose like she used to do when they were young and in the first flushes of love.
The clearing had quickly filled with elves and the noise was almost deafening. Thranduil decided that it was time to start and he stood up. A sudden hush came over the entire place after whispered calls of "I Aran, i Aran! [The King, the King]" Thranduil looked out across his people and saw complete attention on him.
Legolas let his mind wander as Thranduil began his customary introductory speech. He had heard them time after time before and had been privy to Thranduil's practise sessions of it during the week. The number of times the King had been through it to himself in the quiet of the study! Legolas felt he knew it word for word. Legolas gazed into the distance to see all the elves looking in his father's direction with a look bordering on complete adoration, or maybe it was impatience for the King to be finished and the party to begin. Out of the corner of his eye Legolas caught sight of Galuwen. To any distant observer her eyes were fixed on the King, as they should have been, but to anyone close enough they were actually staring at Legolas. He shifted uncomfortably in his high-backed chair, a type reserved solely for the Royal Family. It earned him a gentle slap on the thigh from his mother under the table, telling him to sit still and at least look like he was paying attention. Legolas turned his head to look at his father, giving Galuwen a view of the back of his head just in time to hear his father say,
"And so on that note I would like to thank everyone that has worked to help bring together what I am sure will be a beautiful night. Let the festival begin!"
The Wood erupted in a cacophony of sounds. The elders were speaking about the eloquence of Thranduil's speech or their happiness that the weather had broken in such a dramatic way. The very old were quietly thinking out the noise and the passing of another year in their long lives. The young, however, did not care for speeches or the advancing of time, but for the coming of the food and wine and the dancing that was to follow. Legolas on the other hand was completely silent, speaking only to thank those who brought him food or poured him drink. He ate plate after plate of delicious food, but he tasted nothing other than foreboding. If he was drawn to noises coming from the right hand end of the table and he met Galuwen's eyes the meat would gag in his mouth and Legolas would have to look away hurriedly to avoiding completely choking himself. He would then gulp down a mouthful of the strong wine they were serving and feel the back of his mouth still prickling from coughing too hard.
For dessert there was the last of the stores of dried fruit from the winter before. It was the last time they would have to eat from these because soon there would be ripe, juicy berries practically falling off the trees. If Legolas tarried over pudding, no one could blame them, for soon would come the dancing and the prospect of standing up with Galuwen for the first dance for all to see.
It was not as innocent as it sounded.
The first dance was an honour reserved for only those in favour with their partners. The entire Wood would be gossiping about it by the end of the night, especially as it was now an appropriate time for Legolas to think about settling down. Inwardly he groaned as he found his bowl empty and whisked from under his nose by an over-zealous server. Already the tables were being picked up with ease by the servants, the musicians were setting up in one corner, and people were finding their partners.
Thranduil stood up to make his way with his wife for the first dance, and Malnarthan rose beside him, taking his arm. They walked behind Legolas, and after them came Thalion and Eiliant. Thalion laid a reassuring hand on Legolas' shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Finally Legolas had to rise and claim his partner. He stumbled to his feet as the chair pushed back with little fluidity, and walked down the table and round in front of it to where she sat.
Legolas forced a smile. "Lady Galuwen," he could not bear to say my lady, "would you accompany me?"
She smiled as though the whole thing had not been prearranged. With her voice gushing adoration said, "Oh my prince, you favour me."
That is a joke, Legolas thought to himself, but still took her arm and led her to the floor close to the rest of his family. Thranduil looked at him and nodded his approval, but Thalion could barely contain his mirth at Legolas' first partner because she had been exactly the same with him before he had married. Thalion thought of the awful nights she had put him through, but he could not help but find his little brother's predicament more than slightly amusing. Eiliant saw the scowl on Legolas' face directed at his brother and repositioned Thalion so he had his back to Legolas.
Legolas was infinitely grateful; he could not concentrate on dancing if everywhere he looked his brother was grinning at him like a complete fool.
Legolas did not see the mock-pout on Thalion's face as he said to Eiliant, "You are spoiling my fun!"
Galuwen started to chatter to Legolas about the evening so far, the beauty of the hall, the quality of the food and comparing it to the previous years. The music started up, an elegant regal dance and Legolas saw that there were many couples dancing, so many in fact that some had been obliged to sit the dance out and wait for a time when there was more space. As they danced Galuwen was still happy to talk for both of them, so long as Legolas made noises as if he was interested in what she was saying occasionally, and nodding when she stopped to pause for breath.
It took longer than he would have liked for the dance to end. Legolas politely thanked his partner for the dance, as common courtesy demanded. He heard someone calling his name. He turned and saw his father walking towards him.
"Legolas there is someone I should like you to meet. This is Bassoneth [Bread-giver] who oversees some of the crop growing further north." Legolas bowed to acknowledge the elf. "He comes tonight with his daughter Lasbelin [Autumn], perhaps you two would like to get better acquainted?"
And so the night began.
It was after midnight before Legolas managed to sit down again. He had danced virtually non-stop and when he had not been dancing he had been talking to the people his father introduced him to - and then danced with them too. Legolas had managed to end a dance near to where his brother and Eiliant were sitting while Thranduil was positioned on the other side of the dancers. Legolas took the opportunity to sit down between them and he closed his eyes wearily.
"There, there Legolas, you have almost danced with most of the ellith here, only a few more to go," Thalion said, patting his brother's knee.
Legolas let his head flop down onto Eiliant's shoulder. "Eiliant, if Adar should come over here, will you come and dance with me?"
Eiliant smiled gently and Thalion laughed. "Of course Tithintor," she said, using Thalion's nickname for Legolas.
Thalion pulled Legolas back up straight by the collar of his shirt, off his wife's shoulder.
"It looks as if Adar has been detained. See?" Legolas followed his brother's gaze to where Malnarthan had taken her husband by the hands and was leading him into the dancing.
"Oh thank you Naneth!" Legolas said in exclamation.
"Met anyone nice tonight Legolas?" Eiliant asked innocently.
"No," Legolas said flatly. There was another silence as Legolas watched his parents dancing as if no one else was in the room. They whirled past one of Thranduil's advisors who bowed to the King as he swept past. "Who is Haedron talking to?" Legolas asked.
Thalion and Eiliant turned to look in that general direction.
"She looks familiar, but I cannot place a name to the face. Does her family not live near yours Eiliant?" Thalion said.
"Yes they do. It is good to see her here tonight; she hates these big occasions almost as much as Legolas here and probably for the same reasons. Haedron must have put his foot down," Eiliant said, smiling at the elleth.
Legolas was exasperated. "But who is she, Eiliant?"
"Her name is Eldirn."
"Eldirn?" cried the brothers together and Eiliant hushed them.
"I have not seen her for years," Legolas said. "Not since we were about fifteen. She has changed greatly."
Legolas looked at the elf with a critical eye. She was wearing a simple green robe and her long brown hair was flowing down over her shoulders and down her back. The robe may have been simple and modest, but it showed to Legolas just how much she had changed since they were last together. She now had the figure of a woman and Legolas could see every single curve. Her eyes were a dark brown, the colour of rich soil, and although her face was stern as she spoke with her father there was a light in them that called to Legolas.
"Eiliant, will you introduce me to her?"
"You already know her Legolas," she reminded him.
"I have not seen her for decades Eiliant, and we were children then. Things are different now." Thalion had trouble covering the snort that came out of his mouth when Legolas said this. Eiliant gave her husband a sharp look, but then she smiled as well. Maybe their little brother had found someone that did catch his eye. Legolas, trapped between the two of them, looked from one to another and growled in frustration. He looked across at Eldirn who was now having an animated conversation with her father, gesticulating with her arms in what seemed almost like an argument. Her cheeks gained a heightened pink glow and Legolas smiled as he saw in her someone that felt would share his feelings about the night and their fathers. Legolas was watching Eldirn so closely and for so long that Eiliant and Thalion managed a whispered conversation behind Legolas' head without him even noticing.
"What do you think Eiliant?" Thalion said.
"I am not sure. It is a few years since I have seen Eldirn and she was quiet and shy. She does not like being around people she does not know. But she has a sharp wit and cheeky sense of humour. She might even be able to take on your brother when he gets in one of his moods."
"Well I am starting to like her even more. You know Legolas hit her when they were three. Apparently she stole his lembas or something. Adar was so cross, but I think she gave as good as she got. I wonder if they remember?"
"Well we shall see." The three of them turned and saw Haedron leave Eldirn looking cross as she sat down on a chair and folded her arms under her chest. Legolas' eyes widened slightly as a hint of cleavage came into view over the seam of her modest neckline. Thalion smirked at his wife and Eiliant stood. "Come Legolas, Eldirn is on her own."
Legolas stood up and followed her. He felt something he had never felt before. His palms became hot and clammy and he was sure they were shaking. Something fluttered in his stomach as they crossed the glade to where the elleth was sitting. They were about ten paces away when Eldirn turned and saw them and stood up and Legolas fought to control himself.