You may want to reread Chapter 20, "Diplomacy", before reading this chapter-otherwise you'll miss my brilliant references to that chapter.
"Welcome to Lórien, prince Legolas."
"Thank you, Haldir." Legolas tried to channel princeliness, which was even harder than it was at home, especially without his father here this time. "Are you our escort?"
Haldir bowed. "I am, and if you would like, I can escort you to the king now. Oh, hello, Kilvara," he added somewhat morosely.
She smiled weakly. "Hello, Haldir, how are you?"
"Oh, fine, fine." He sighed.
Legolas cleared his throat.
"Right!" Haldir snapped to attention. "This way, prince."
Whatever had happened between these two, Legolas was pretty sure he didn't want to know.
. . . . . .
"So you are the young prince," said King Amroth, leaning forward on his throne to scrutinize Legolas with his somber midnight-blue eyes. "I trust your journey was pleasant?"
"Pleasant enough," he agreed. "My father has accepted your proposal."
"Good, I was worried." Amroth shifted on his throne, giving the impression he wasn't quite used to it yet. "Legolas, correct me if I am wrong, but you are no better suited to this role than I am."
"How do you know that?" the startled prince asked.
"The same way one soldier knows another." The king stood and stepped down to stand face-to-face with Legolas. "But that is not the purpose of your visit; I am taking up your time needlessly. Shall we discuss this idea of mine which your father has approved? And Legolas, no need to act the part; I understand better than anyone how it feels."
It was something of a relief to have an elf know him only as a prince and yet not be obsessed with it. "And the same to you, King Amroth."
"Just Amroth," the king insisted. "If you like."
. . . . . .
"King Amroth got his father's powers of perception and his mother's melancholy, didn't he?" Kilvara whispered to her companion as they stood looking out at the Mallorn trees from a balcony, waiting for the royals to finish going over plans.
"And some of Amdir's mischief; I would keep an eye on your prince." Haldir watched her out of the far corner of his eye and quickly looked away.
She noticed. "Haldir."
"Yes?" he asked sheepishly.
"Get over it. It's been two millennia."
"I did. I am." A beat. "Fine, I am not. But, how are you? You must have children by now, yes?"
"Oh—no, not with everything that has been going on."
"Ah. That is—perfectly appropriate—very understandable." He redirected his gaze into the distance.
"This is awkward," Kilvara stated unnecessarily.
"Excruciatingly so, I agree," said Haldir.
Her fingers drummed on the elegant railing. "Yeah. I think I'll go explore. Take care of my prince, will you?"
"Of course. Very wise of you."
. . . . . .
A few hours later, as a slightly drunk Haldir mulled over his misfortune, the much more drunk and effectively unsupervised (since the guards had also been invited to partake in the wine) royals commiserated about their fates.
"Here is to the founding kings of our realms, for dooming us to this fate," sighed Amroth, holding out his glass, which Legolas clinked his own against before both took a large gulp.
Legolas liked this elf more every hour he spent with him. "And then dying," he added thoughtfully. Amroth's wine was nearly as strong as some of the stuff in his father's palace, and his head was beginning to feel fuzzy.
"A lot of help they were," Amroth agreed. They clinked glasses again and took another gulp.
"You know," said Legolas, "my Nana didn't want to be queen."
To his surprise, Amroth guffawed. "That is a good one. Now, my mother, she was already married to my Ada, but you do not marry the prince by accident."
Legolas bristled. "She married my father because she loved him, not because she was some weed climbing the social wall!"
"Then she was a fool," Amroth said dismissively.
"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"
. . . . . .
"You punched King Amroth," Thranduil repeated tonelessly.
Legolas held his head high, refusing to cave under his father's stare. "Yes."
"And why did you do this?"
But Legolas knew better than to mention his mother, especially in the same sentence as his new friend—and one drunken scuffle wasn't going to ruin their bond—Amroth. "He spoke badly of Greenwood, and I felt the need to correct him. I think it worked." Amroth had apologized to him the next day, and he had graciously accepted it.
His Ada looked at him expressionlessly. Next to him, Taensirion cleared his throat loudly and raised both eyebrows, which he normally did when he was trying to remind the king of something. "Not a word," the king growled out of the corner of his mouth, and the advisor seemed to be fighting a smile. The king sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Get out of my sight, child."
Legolas did, greatly relieved.