Dirty for the first time in months, Thranduil marched homeward from the training fields with a jubilant smile. After weeks of light stretching, a proper tangle with Hyrondal under Yuai's watchful eye left him refreshing.

Thranduil glanced behind him at the clock above the door as he entered the palace through the kitchen. He had time to change into a clean tunic, run a comb through his hair, and hug Harune good afternoon before he collected his journal and headed to the council chamber.

The room was empty save two maids arranging platters of snacks on the sideboard and Oropher, legs stretched out under the rectangular table and a vibrant gold mantle around him, sorting papers.

Oropher looked up as Thranduil came in. He gestured to Thranduil's head. "You forget your circlet."

Thranduil put his book down on the table and dug in his pocket for the elusive crown. He settled it on his head. "I am afraid it itches, my king."

Oropher raised his eyebrows and shifted a pile of papers down the table to the place under Thranduil's nose. "I shall expect you again for dinner tonight."

Thranduil frowned. The pent-up irritation he had rubbed off rolling in the fields with Hyrondal rushed back. Ever since he and Oropher's release from the healing ward, the King had summoned him every day without fail not only for dinner but breakfast and lunch as well. "Oropher, I—"

He broke off and turned his attention to the papers in front of him as the double doors to the room opened and the high council, made almost entirely of elves in loose, fitted robes, trooped in.

Wine poured and plates filled, the elves sat down to their places at the table. Thranduil dipped his head dutifully and went back to sorting the documents in front of him into piles.

"My king, with the Queen's funeral now behind us and the time for grieving done, we must regretfully lay this pressing matter before you. It appears the humans at the Mirkwood border are growing more ferocious in their vile efforts to deface our land. We must conclude our previous message was not powerful enough to deter them."

Thranduil put a curled hand on his forehead to hide his frown and glance at Oropher.

Oropher said, "With the time of grieving done, it is the crown's responsibility to turn to matters of state with as much energy as possible. I am aware Mirkwood is still bristling with unrest due to the events preceding the Queen's death. To avoid more upheaval, I have made the decision to delay the banishment of those involved in the past two riots."

"Delay?" Thranduil said. His voice shook the quiet room and attracted every eye at the table. Calmly, he wrung a smile out of himself and shook his head. "Pardon me."

Oropher continued, "This decision will allow us to focus on securing our northern border without the added worry of policing internal turmoil."

"An ingenious move, my king. The council recommends sending sufficient troops to the northern border to send and enforce a stronger message than our previous demonstration."

Oropher held up a hand. "Let us save those tiresome details. As you know, a celebration of Prince Thranduil and I's return to our duties is being hosted tonight. I dismiss the council early in anticipation of well-deserved festivity."

Thranduil held back his frown until the room cleared. He turned to Oropher. "Abar, I have taken care not to cause conflict in front of the council, but you must know I do not support your decision to run the humans off."

"I have been painfully aware of your standing since our first attempt to rid Mirkwood of man during the past years. No, I do not wish to discuss your opinion at this time. Save it for dinner."

"For dinner?" Thranduil snapped. "You know full well dinner will take place at the celebration in the company of one too many aristocrats for us to discuss this properly."

Oropher smirked as he stood. "I know. Marseille will be in attendance tonight as well, Thranduil, and I expect you to perform your duty towards her admirably." He swept out of the room,

Thranduil glared out the giant window opposite. He slapped his face into his hands and growled. Tucking his book under his arm, he left the room in favor of the kitchens.

Gathered at a well-loved work island on battered stools, Thranduil found his friends congregated around pitcher of ice-cold lemonade garnished with mint leaves and a platter of treats rescued from the rejected piles at many a workstation.

"Lovely party you are having tonight," Nimrethil said dispassionately, as Thranduil pulled up a stool. "Here I am in the blazing heat slaving to turn out refreshments for the feast."

"Come now, Nimrethil, do not pretend you do not enjoy it," Thranduil replied. He kissed Ailunai as she poured him a cold drink.

Nimrethil cast off her white cap and folded her arms. "It is possible I would enjoy it more if I were partaking of it."

"I am not invited to the celebration either," Ailunai reminded her. "It is an affair of the court."

"It is a discriminatory affair," Jailil said. "Does it not occur to the King the celebration expands beyond the court?"

"It is extremely hard to communicate new ideas to Oropher," Thranduil said. "I do not think he would welcome the idea of an all-inclusive party. He is more secure doing things as they have always been done."

Nimrethil sniffed. "Besides, Jailil, those celebrating beyond the circles of the Mirkwood court are celebrating Thranduil, not Oropher."

Thranduil frowned at her. "You ought to be more forgiving, Nimrethil. We cannot move forward if we hold onto the past."

Hyrondal rested his elbows on the table. "Let us have our own party, Nimrethil, in celebration of Thranduil and Oropher's recovery."

Ailunai's blue eyes brightened. "I fully support the motion. I do, however, put forth that our party ought not take place tonight as Thranduil cannot be in two places at once."

Nimrethil laughed. "You are hilarious, Ailunai, to even imply I could have food for two feasts prepared in one day!"

Hyrondal raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes at Nimrethil. "You are hilarious, Nimrethil, to deny you could perform such a feat."

"I am free tomorrow night," Thranduil said. His shoulders slumped. "Perhaps. Oropher has been both consistent and insistent in demanding my presence at his dinner table night by night."

Ailunai put a hand on his arm. "I am sorry, Thranduil. I know you enjoy your nightly meals with Harune."

"Do not answer his next summons," Nimrethil said maliciously.

Thranduil smiled at her. "Plan your party, Nimrethil. I will come." He glanced at the clock above the doors leading out into the kitchen gardens. "I must excuse myself. As tonight's festivities will live up to their regal expectations, I cannot fail in my duty to appear as formal as possible."

Evening fell with tinkling dusk and the promise of fireflies. In the ballroom with the floor-length windows open and the wall candles lit, the coolness of the outdoors gathered in the corners of the room.

Thranduil entered as discreetly as he could through the thrust-open double doors and skirted around the wall to join Oropher. He wore a black silk robe with tiny white beads around the cuffs and hems. His loose hair was bound back by two small braids and adorned with his silver circlet. He clasped his hands as he sidled up behind the King.

Oropher turned to greet him, lowering a wine cup from his lips. His white-gold robe swished. "Ah, Thranduil, I see you have not yet mastered the art of the grand entrance."

Thranduil grinned at him. "It is delightful to see you enjoying yourself too, abar. Marseille." He dipped his head at Oropher's drinking companion.

Oropher kissed Marseille's white hand before he moved away. Thranduil stepped closer to her to fill the gap. Her pale green dress hung easily and artfully off her slender frame. White jewels at her ears and throat, she smiled at him and took his arm.

"Why, my Prince, I cannot apologize enough for not coming to see you sooner, but I have only just returned from my little retreat to the land graciously given to me in the southern territories by the crown. It is with regret I have abandoned the place after the terrible tragedy that took the Queen and left you and the King so brutally injured."

"I assure you, my lady, I am too delighted to see you back in safe lands," Thranduil replied politely.

She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "You are too sweet, my prince."

Thranduil set aside her cup on the gilded sideboard and bowed. "May I have this dance?"

Marseille clasped his hand in her white glove and dimpled. "I am honored, my prince. I hear you waltz more smoothly than you care to admit."

Thranduil raised his eyebrows as he swung her onto the dance floor. "Rumors are a dangerous thing, my lady. I find it wiser to speak only of what I am capable of."

The lady smiled at him. "Your wisdom exceeds your years. Mirkwood is in desperate need of the certainty and patience with which you treat your affairs."

Looking into her eyes, Thranduil saw a hint of something he did not understand. It wanted to be understanding yet, before he could look twice, her gaze flickered, and duty returned to every ounce of her being.

Eternal gratitude for reading! Your eyes on my words make my day.

Next Chapter: Dinner with the King.