Thranduil's boot banged against the hallway floor as he stalked to join Oropher for dinner in the King's private dining room. He narrowed his eyes at the guards he passed until he quenched his outward frustration and entered the dining room.

The dining room adjoined Oropher's personal drawing room. Two windows met at a right angle in the wood-paneled walls behind the head of the square table. A breakfast sideboard opposite the door stood empty but two elegant cabinets with gold handles displayed explosions of purple blooms.

Thranduil wrenched out his chair and sat down at Oropher's right hand. Two white candles in silver holders exuded a faint golden glow across the covered dishes.

Oropher unfolded his napkin. "I see you do not bring a smile to this table."

Thranduil shook out his napkin and removed the silver domes from the dishes on the table. Platters of fresh salad greens, cubed cucumbers, halved cherry tomatoes, crumbled feta cheese, and charred chicken pieces came into view. Oropher shook up the salad vinaigrette aggressively.

Thranduil fidgeted before he grabbed the ball of courage in his belly and spoke. "Oropher, I have loved our companionship. It is time I cherish for the opportunities it offers for communication and growth and self-expression. Of late, however, I have come to feel stifled. I have even come to dread your excessive daily summons."

Oropher raised his eyebrows. "I cannot imagine why."

His tone rankled Thranduil, who bristled. "Oropher, as I said, I love spending time in conversation with you, but I also need ada's company. There is much I cannot say to you and much you cannot help me with in the way Harune does. You can perhaps relate to the struggle to find free time. I have little free time and, especially of late, I find every time I sit down to share a meal with my father, that irritating valet you entertain comes banging."

"I assure you, Nestel does not bang. He is a first-class manservant."

Thranduil ground his teeth. "I do not give two coppers for your manservant!"

"Your tone, Thranduil, is uncalled for. It is too much to ask that you treat a lonely old king kindly?"

Thranduil glared at him. "A lonely old king? Is that what you have become?"

Oropher poured a steady stream of dressing across his plate. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps!" Thranduil cried. He flung his napkin on the table. "I will not entertain your ridicule of me. You, my king, may be lonely but, believe it or not, I am lonely too." He rose to his feet. "I am leaving. You may continue to send your summons. On occasion I may answer." He turned to leave before swinging back around. "Think on this: one need not say 'yes' all the time to be considered kind!"

"Mm," Oropher said, his eyes on the contents of his fork. He looked up. "I must insist you do not leave."

Thranduil flung up his hands. "Why in Mirkwood not?"

Oropher tipped his head to one side. "I have invited a guest to join us. Observe the extra place setting."

"I am not in the mood to receive Marseille!" Thranduil snapped. He wrenched open the door and collided with Harune.

Harune put a hand on Thranduil's shoulder to steady him as the elf exclaimed, "Ada!"

Harune appeared mildly surprised. "I do apologize, my king, for my inability to knock. I see this is perhaps not the best of times to join you for dinner. Perhaps tomorrow night will be more appropriate?"

Thranduil turned on Oropher. "You invited Harune to join us?"

"Your lack of interest has been too apparent over the past few weeks," Oropher replied. He smirked. "You were becoming almost bitter."

Thranduil flushed. "Please join us, ada. Now is the perfect time."

Harune shut the door behind him. "Thank you. Thranduil, I must profess myself shocked at your unsightly attempted departure."

Thranduil frowned. "Ada, this will be equally unbearable if you insist on presenting yourself so . . . properly."

Harune lapsed into a smile as he sat down across from Thranduil. "I like to think, ion nin, I am never unpresentable. Thank you for a delightful invitation, my king. An empty table is a tragic thing." He unfolded his napkin.

Oropher twirled his fork as Harune filled his goblet with white wine and smilingly passed Thranduil a pitcher of fruit punch clinking with ice. Thranduil frowned. "What is this childish concoction?"

Harune finished chewing and swallowed. "It has a dash of vodka in it, Thranduil, and a dash too much, I might add, as seeing as Nimrethil mixed it."

Thranduil sloshed his glass to the brim. "I am glad we can all agree on what will make this dinner hum. I notice, abar, you have taken to partaking of Nimrethil's cooking on every occasion I dine with you. It is most considerate of you to respect my tastes."

"Not at all," Oropher said coolly. "I have disengaged my personal chef."

"If Nimrethil were your personal chef now, abar, I would have known before I sat down to this table. In fact, all the palace would be aware of the news."

"I regret Nimrethil refused the promotion," Oropher said. "I confess I am still baffled by it."

"Not at all, my king," Harune answered coolly, lowering his glass. "Nimrethil put a great deal of thought into the advantages serving as the King's personal chef would afford, but ultimately decided she could not continue to interact as she does with the members of the kitchen staff if she was elevated to a position that requires a certain level of formality."

Thranduil grinned before he burst out laughing. "In other words, she realized she would not be able to carry on."

"Indelicately put," Harune told him.

"At any rate, I see your offer still sweetened her up enough to convince her to cook for you on occasion," Thranduil said to Oropher.

"I do not care to spend precious time 'sweetening' people up, Thranduil. A King's order is his final word."

Thranduil opened his eyes wide. "I will take care to refuse your dinner invitation the night Nimrethil serves up revenge. I say, ada, pass the punch, please."

Harune slid the silver pitcher across the table and refilled Oropher's wine cup at the same time. "Tell me about your day."

"It was terrible, truly, it was. Tuvok sent a substitute tutor to the library today. I have been expecting it for some time now, as he does it every month without fail. I do not know where Tuvok finds these people, ada! Kealen was, as much as it pains me, quite clueless. I spent the entire morning hoping he would not kill himself falling off the library ladders searching for a dreadful book on calligraphic grammar. By the time he found it, of course, the bell sounded, and the head librarian came boiling to hiss-whisper at the bellboy for ringing it too loudly. You cannot ring a bell quietly, ada, no matter what he says."

Harune raised his eyebrows. "I heard rumor of a movement to allow only hand bells in the library."

"Hand bells?" Thranduil said with interest. "I wonder how many will be given out. A hundred hand bells all ringing at once from different points in the library will cause no end of confusion. I moved myself along to the training fields and left Kealen making a frightful mess on Tuvok's antique desk with a nasty concoction of purple ink."

"I also heard rumor from Nimrethil, who heard from her second maid who had it from Hyrondal, Yuai was not in a good mood today."

Thranduil grinned. "The heat in the fields was oppressive, but Yuai would insist a warrior cannot pander to the changing seasons. He ran us, as well as himself dry, and a dehydrated Captain of the Guard is a lasting sight. Hyrondal beat him in a demonstration of page eighty-seven six times. The second maid, by the way, made an appearance that saved us all from dragon fire with a lovely concoction of lemonade and blackberry juice."

"I must recommend to Yuai he change his place of training," Harune said. "While we cannot expect the seasons to play in our favor, we can take responsible measures."

"It was an unexpected heatwave this morning, ada," Thranduil said hastily. "We are meeting in the groves tomorrow."

"If this is a sampling of your nightly conversations with Harune, Thranduil, I am doubly shocked withdrawal from it is so damaging to your temperament," Oropher said coldly.

"We have not reached the good stuff yet," Thranduil replied. He launched into a long tirade about the inner workings of the Mirkwood council that lasted through dessert and ended on an angry high note of condemnation.

As Thranduil and Harune rose to leave, Thranduil lingered to lend the maid quietly clearing the table a hand and Harune offered a parting hint to Oropher, "While our conversation may not have been deep, my king, it is essentially a place for Thranduil to rant. You cannot tell me an impartial ear is not invaluable."

Oropher smiled a little. "Natelle and I were such vessels of listening to each other. Do not pretend to be above it; your expose on the inner doings of the laundress were both entirely new and, dare I say it, mildly entertaining to me."

Harune smiled gently. "I am glad I could offer you one such opportunity to smile. Come, Thranduil, or it will be more than the sun waking you up on the morrow. I have volunteered to sample six candidates for library hand bells."

"Six!" Thranduil exclaimed. "Goodnight, abar." He fled the room.

I am devastated to have missed last week's update! Having fallen ill with an unexpected fever that lasted five days, I was unable to write. I am much better now and seeking some answers as to the nature of my episode. Thank you for your patience and, to those of you who wrote, thank you for your concern and well wishes!

Next Chapter: Party in the kitchen gardens