They had been laying with one another in silence for several hours when Avaleina suddenly crawled out of the bed, humming a song he didn't know. Eager excitement glowing in her smile.
She made for the window in the most direct path possible, climbing over the back of the couch and walking across a table, carelessly leaping from the table to the small cushioned ledge by the window to finally swing it open into the night air.
A faint and lone flute drifted into the room, only loud enough that Legolas would have just barely been able to catch the notes if it hadn't been for her continued humming. Avaleina dropped silently and lightly back onto the rug, ignoring Legolas who had only mustered the energy to roll over to watch more easily out of curiosity.
Skipping to the table on the notes of the song, she snagged the table cloth decorated with various shades of blue and tied it around her waist in a crude mocking of a formal dancers skirt. The kind she used to wear regularly, before the war, the hurt, and the exhaustion had stolen that joy from her, too.
Her head swayed side to side with the tune, her long dark hair still unusually free of braids began its own dance at the movement.
The tune continued to carry on the breeze, a little stronger now.
As if completely unaware that she was still in Legolas' bedroom and not in the middle of celebration dance floor, Avaleina held her arms out from her sides and into the air, with hands in poised perfection.
She smiled at him, her special smile. The one for him and only for him. And then she laughed, and he couldn't help but smile too.
He never could.
With a seamless and sweeping movement, she began dragging her feet across the carpet in perfect pattern and rhythm. Her arms and hand easily kept time and perfection, striking poses as quick as her feet.
Like a rushing spring stream, each movement crashed and cascaded against the next so smoothly it was impossible to tell where one move ended and another began. The air swirled and bent to the will of the dance, and she might as well have been floating.
There used to be jokes that her affinity for dance is what made her such a successfully savage scout, and so beautifully difficult to knock from the treetops.
Most people had forgotten her love of dance since those more happy and peaceful days, and she had let them. Then herself. She kept such passions for a world and a life they had only managed to sneak snippets of between the life the world had pushed upon them.
The blue 'skirt' twirled outwards with flourish, dusting the outsides of the spotlight of moonlight that bathed a section of his room from the moonlight. But not even the glow of such a great light could have compared with the look of monetary uninhibited peace and serenity on Avaleian's face.
Legolas nudged the plants to ask whatever elf was creating the music to play it a bit louder yet. They did nearly immediately, and the song swelled out towards the stars louder than before.
Avaleina's humming dissolved into song, crystal clear notes entwining in perfect harmony with the instrument. The very air seemed to hug onto every note and syllable, and the tree's outside stretched their leaves towards the sound.
The song was old, from a time and a language long before even his grandfather had come to live among the forest of Greenwood. But Legolas knew the intended message, he could sense the warm glow within him like a candle.
Healing. Togetherness. Support. Love.
The tempo quickened and the steps grew more complicated, the skirt pulled this way and that by sudden movements. Avaleina's eyes were closed to feel the music and the moment, but even if they hadn't been he knew she never would have been able to see how unspeakably beautiful she looked at that moment.
Everything drifted away in the enchantment of the dance, the song whisking away every troubled thought and nightmare since memory began. All moments and breaths from every other day, night, sunrise, or sunset melted away.
Nobody in his realm had the heart or the will to perform either the music or the dances from such previously happy times in nearing a thousand years. It was too peaceful, too untouched by the hate of the world.
The fact that they deemed the world safe enough for it to return was almost as beautiful as her.
The flute began to slow its rhythm, and the frantic swishing of Avaleinas skirt evolved back into gentle swaying, and with one final spin, she came to a stop. Her eyes opened, and she beamed at him, "I haven't heard that song in so long every part of me had forgotten it existed. The dance mistress used to make us do it at least once at the start and end of every practice. It was her favorite."
Finally spurred into motion, Legolas threw the covers back and leapt out of before. He crossed the room to her and bending slightly at the knee he circled his arms around her upper thighs and lifted without effort. Avaleina laughed again when he twirled her, stretching her arms out high above her head.
He loosened his grasp slightly until she slipped a little farther down, resting her elbows on his shoulders she leaned down to kiss him. Which was exactly what he had intended anyways.
Still not letting her feet touch the ground, even after their kiss came to a regretful end, he started the next dance the flute player had chosen.
..0
Thranduil knocked on his son's door, opening it after nobody seemed to hear it over the music and laughter coming from inside.
"My King!" Farlen greeted enthusiastically, immediately ceasing to jump on Legolas' bed like an elfling.
Somehow they had managed to cram twenty or more warriors into one room, as stuffed to the brim with smiles as the room was with occupants. It was not an uncommon happening, the joys of one friend tended to draw more.
"Would you like to join the party?" Elossia asked, appearing almost out of nowhere with a cup full of wine.
Legolas called across the room from the couch he hadn't bothered to get up from, since Avaleina still sat on the arm of it with her legs across his lap, "Come in, Ada! They were just telling me about when Tern got too drunk and fell out of the tree."
Searching the crowd briefly Thranduil found the face he was looking for, "Was that not when you broke two ribs and dislocated your shoulder?"
Another round of laughter was heard and when they were done Tern mumbled, "So they tell me. Believe it or not, my memory of the event is not exactly crystal clear."
Thranduil laughed, he could remember Farlen appearing out of the forest with a half-conscious Tern in his arms, from the alcohol on the injury. "Oh, I believe it. Definitely. Without a doubt."
It was so good to hear them all laughing like this. So good.
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Jah'har knew Avaleina had been hiding something from him, desperately but firmly. He also knew the chances of her telling him anything was slim to none, unlike usual when they made such a good team.
Especially if her King had entrusted the secret to her. He knew that Avaleina would rather die a thousand times over than betray or disappoint King Thranduil.
Worst of all, he knew the kind of power that was held within the pages of those books. There was a reason Chieftain Elruher had coveted them enough to sink to theft in order to obtain them.
There was a reason a few of the spells within had been written across several different books, there was a reason they were supposed to be difficult to find all the information for. There was a reason some of those spells were banned.
And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that the reason King Thranduil had wanted the books back was for one of those exact spells.
If only he knew which spells those books possessed. Then he would know if she was in danger or not, then he would know if he needed to do something to protect her.
When the birds brought him news that the forest elves were setting up for some sort of grand party, he saw his opportunity. And didn't plan to squander it.
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There was an annoying and instant knocking upon the borrowed room's bedroom door, and still half asleep Gimli managed to stumble to it without stubbing his toe on anything in the dark. He threw the door open and found an elf he was somewhat certain he had never seen before.
In his arms was some of the most colorful cloth he had ever seen in his life folded gently, and on top rested a little note. Gimli recognized Legolas' writing before he even picked it up, all the more distinguishable by the few words he had to cross out and rewrite because he had started the word in Elvish and not Westeron.
A habit Gimli had noticed creep into his verbal conversation as well. The elf offered the clothes, his accent was much thicker than he was accustomed to, "My King bid us to make these for you."
He took them, the impossibly soft-looking fabric even softer than his hands had expected, "Thank you."
The elf put a hand over his heart and tilted his head, and then fled away like a shadow. Gimli closed the door once more and picked up the noted.
Get dressed. Aragorn will be there to get you in several minutes. It will be fun, I promise.
Also, I hope these fit. We had to guess on several of the measurements.
Instead of a signature, there was a small drawing of a single leaf at the bottom of the note.
He set the note aside and took a closer inspection at the clothes in his hands. They were very obviously of elvish make but seemed to be proportionate to his body.
The pants were of a fabric that glittered darker between blue and green hues, while the long sleeve shirt danced with patterns of swirling vines and blooming flowers against a black fabric that sometimes looked like all the colors at once.
There was a decorative cloak to be pinned to his shoulders, and he noticed that the inside of it was in the pattern of his family's crest. The one he had drawn for Legolas only once upon the elf's insistence in Rohan after shortly before their drinking competition.
The elf had even gotten near the exact hues of reds and silvers.
The outside of the cape, however, was a dye that bled down the fabric starting black at the top and slowly but promptly turning from blues, greens, yellows and finally rich red autumn. Leaves that were only noticeable in certain lights had been stitched in a thread color he genuinely couldn't determine.
The entire outfit was admittedly stunning. More color at once than he had ever seen, but still stunning.
He hastily changed, further surprised to find that most everything fit near perfectly. The pants were a little large, but they had supplied him with a belt literally woven of long thin branches and brightly colored ribbons.
Elves.
He was just pulling on his boots when another knock came to the door, and he pulled it open again one boot still in hand.
Aragorn and the hobbits stood outside his door, dressed in near-identical outfits. The only difference was that Aragorn's seemed to favor the lighter blues and greens that seemed near grey or silver. While the hobbits had much brighter greens, and yellows.
They made an incredibly festive bunch indeed.
"Aragorn says this is all for some sort of grand sort of party." Pippin happily supplied without prompting from any of his fellows.
Aragorn smiled down at the small creature for a moment, "Indeed it is, I would assume it is for Legolas' return home."
Gimli stepped outside into the hall, and closed the door again, "They start their celebrations in the middle of the night?"
"They start their celebrations whenever the mood is fitting and waiting for them to do so," Aragorn said, and began leading the way down the twisting hallways. "Although, I do not see his people ever really being against celebrations of any kind. Especially not now, not when they're finally at peace."
"Besides," Pippin added, gazing around in wonder as they made their way down a corridor they had already walked several times. It was something Gimli had noticed the hobbit and the elf had in common, the looked at every beautiful sight with fresh admiration with every breath. "If I were a wood elf, and if Legolas were my Prince, I think I would like to have a celebration for him too. In fact, I think I would have many."
Pippin, as usual, seemed unaware of his gentle but moving words.
Merry and Gimli both placed hands on the youngers shoulders, Gimli only patted it a few times with affection and agreement. Merry, however, waited until the dwarf had moved his hand and then stretched his arm across his cousin's shoulders, "Me too, Pip."
"Us as well." Two voices said in unison. Gimli tried not to jump but probably did, he had not noticed the two guards with a helmet over their faces standing at a crossroads in the hall, at the start of the Royals Row.
Aragorn only spared them a smile as he began to climb another set of stairs, one at a time instead of his usual three for the sake of his smaller companions.
As they climbed higher and higher the music grew louder and louder, as did the unmistakable chatter of a large crowd. Aragorn led them to the huge back doors that led to the walled-in clearings at the rear of the mountain.
The sound washed over them like a physical creature the moment they stepped out of the mountain, and Araognr stopped his troops to let them take in the sight.
"Whoah." Was all Merry managed to breathe, his eyes almost as wide as Pippin's.
If Gimli had thought there had been lots of colors before, it was nothing to the sight that graced his vision now.
A huge bonfire burned in the center of the festivities, the flames roaring with varying colors. Candles hung in the air more plentiful than stars, each one held within a stained-glass picture of individual design. Hanging down from each candle holder were strings with varying sizes and amount of glass prisms tied to it. The combination of them both made it seems as if thousands of tiny rainbows had fallen from the sky to dance among the elves.
"Estel!" A voice called, a moment before Legolas climbed onto a chair and then one of the plentiful tables that surrounded the outsides of the huge dancing space. He leaped from one to the other over the heads of the crowds with disturbing ease, and judging by the fact nobody else took much notice, Gimli assumed this wasn't an uncommon mode of transportation.
He landed near them with a beaming smile, with flowers and a few feathers were weaved and tucked into his hair already. His clothes were comprised mostly of delightful shades of light clear blues, with most of the accents such as threaded patterns and borders were bright yellow.
It appeared as if someone had drawn designs on his face. Delicate ruins tucked perfectly within the equally delicately drawn leaves, or against the sides of the few swirling vines that began on his temples and snaked across his hairline.
He wondered what the words meant.
"You all look amazing! I'm incredibly pleased the outfits were to your sizes." And Gimli was struck by exactly how sincerely pleased the elf did look, for the first time in much too long he did not see the shadow that had been haunting his friend.
He did not think it had been banished, but it did seem to temporarily be asleep. Either way, it was so much better than he had looked in the kitchen earlier that same day.
Gimli would take whatever victory he could get. He smoothed the front of his shirt, "You guessed well."
Legolas smiled at him, seemingly happy and carefree as ever, "I am an elf of many talents."
"Where's Ava?" Aragorn asked, absently searching the crowd behind Legolas.
The elf just gestured vaguely behind himself, "When I left her she was terrorizing Elladan and Elrohir with her ink."
Pippin's eyes managed to grow brighter, "Do you think she would draw something on me?"
Legolas laughed and put a hand to both hobbits shoulders so that he could steer them into the crowd and not lose them, "My dear friend, she would love nothing more."
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