Thranduil found Nimrethil picking fresh herbs. Her pink basket lay at her feet, divided into sections. As he approached, her purple head bobbed out of the herb patch.
"Oh," she said. She smiled. "It is you."
"Are you allowed to talk to me?" Thranduil asked. He sat down on the path beside Nimrethil and tucked a strand of onion grass between his teeth.
Nimrethil gathered a handful of her hair and pulled it over her shoulder. "I am talking to you, am I not?"
Thranduil hesitated. "I have learned to cook pancakes and biscuits and soup, and ada let me fry ham."
Nimrethil sighed. "I bet it all tastes wonderful."
"Ada is a good teacher," Thranduil said. "But nothing tasted so good as the cheese balls."
Nimrethil collected her basket and stood. Thranduil swallowed his onion grass and asked, "Would you like to go for a stroll in the royal gardens?"
"I do not know how I would," Nimrethil answered.
"I will take you," Thranduil explained.
Nimrethil narrowed her blue eyes. "Really?"
"I never joke," Thranduil answered. He offered her his arm. "May I take you for a stroll?"
Nimrethil grabbed his elbow. "Yes!"
"In the courts the ladies bow," Thranduil teased.
"I bow to no one!" Nimrethil tossed her head. She brought her basket with her when she crawled through the gap in the garden wall. Thranduil gave her a hand up and led her through the bush onto the pebbled path. Nimrethil immediately kicked the pebbles and giggled.
"It is so white," she said.
Thranduil folded his arms. "I dare say your first glimpse of the royal gardens is a joke."
Nimrethil batted her eyelashes at him. "Oh, my prince, it is an honor to be here—so lovely."
She dissolved into giggles but stopped to nip a rosebud off a bush they passed.
"There is nothing you can eat in this garden," Thranduil said, escorting her around hedges of flowers opening their colorful heads.
"No," Nimrethil agreed. "It is all looks and no substance."
Thranduil pushed her past several ladies relaxing under a bow and Nimrethil complained, "You are going too fast."
"You cannot hope to see it all in a day," Thranduil replied. "Let me show you my favorite garden spot."
He led her to a tiled pond at the far southern end of the garden. Little golden fish flashed over the white tiles painted with blue flowers and a wide, high wall edged the pond.
"If you dip your hands in, they will nibble your fingers," Thranduil said. He trailed his hand in the crystal water and the fish darted to his fingertips. "Ada says the fish came with our ancestors when Mirkwood was founded."
"Ooh," Nimrethil said. She wriggled as the fish nibbled her fingers.
"Thranduil!"
Thranduil whirled around. Oropher and Natelle descended on him.
"I am pleased to see you out in the gardens," Oropher said. "But who is this?"
"Nimrethil," Thranduil introduced, "The King and Queen, Oropher and Natelle. My king." He bowed with Nimrethil.
"How dare you!" Natelle exclaimed. "Surely you know this is unacceptable?"
"We never hurt the fish," Thranduil said.
Natelle pointed at Nimrethil. "How dare you bring this—this weed into the royal gardens? I shudder to think of what the ladies will think. Get out, you little land rat!"
Nimrethil's hand bunched into fists. Thranduil stood in front of her. "You cannot talk to her like that. She is not a rat and I brought her here, so blame me for degrading the royal gardens."
"I," said Oropher, "do not care for your tone. You are forgiven for your ignorance this time but next time I will punish you."
"I will show her out," Thranduil said.
"Oh no," Natelle said. She grabbed his arm. "You will not touch her. We will call a servant to throw her out."
"She is not rotting garbage!" Thranduil shouted. He jerked out of Natelle's grasp. "She is an elf, like me—"
"She is nothing like you!" Oropher snapped. He lowered his voice as heads popped up over hedges to stare. "And, unless you want a taste of my belt, be silent."
When Thranduil turned around, Nimrethil was gone. Her crushed rosebud lay on the pond's stone edge. He bowed stiffly to the King and Queen and walked away.
The next noon as Thranduil dropped slices of venison into a hot frying pan and Harune whisked a pot of sauce at his elbow, a maid interrupted their cooking routine.
"A lady to see you, my prince," the maid said.
A lady? Thranduil closed his eyes. Please not Natelle.
When he turned around Ivy stated at him. She bowed briefly. "I came to apologize for the unfair assumptions I made the other day. I realized it was wrong of me to assume my world was not fit for you and worse of me to be ashamed of the household I cultivate. I am sorry, and you are welcome to dine with us any time."
"You do not need to apologize," Thranduil said. "But I am glad you came. Since you are willing to try bridging the social gap between us, I-I was wondering if you would be willing to teach me how to garden? Not just picking plants but also planting and caring for them."
"Well, it is almost summer, so too late to let you plant your own patch but come by in the afternoons and I will teach you what I know."
When Ivy paused, Thranduil said hastily, "If it is a question of payment—"
"I was thinking," Ivy said. "Perhaps in return you will allow Nimrethil to join your cooking classes."
"It is not a proper cooking class," Thranduil said. "But if ada does not mind, she is most welcome."
"I have no objection," Harune said.
"I will see you tomorrow," Ivy said to Thranduil.
"I would not miss it," Thranduil replied. As Ivy left, he whirled around, conscious of the meat frying on the stove. Harune winked at him and handed him the finished plate.
In order to achieve one dream, Thranduil has opened his heart to the dreams of another. And, while Harune is not the King's cook, I think he will make a good teacher . . .
Next Chapter: Nimrethil raises a fuss in the healing wards.