The Autumn Feast

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Disclaimer: I am not Tolkien. This is for fun and practice.

~ o0o ~

The clearing that had been chosen for the night's activities was not over large which was not necessary. It was just extensive enough to comfortably fit a couple dozen elves, large trees surrounded them only allowing a faint light from the fire and torches to escape between them. The clearing itself had been cleaned of fallen branches and any other such obstacles making way for a single long table laden with such a wide variety of food – some known to us such as roasted meats and sweet pastries, but there was many more that would seem strange to us as they were purely elven foods that has been lost to the world – that a Hobbit could eat his fill and there would still be quite a bit left. Lyrical voices and tinkling laughter combined with soft strumming of harps to form a rather beautiful sound.

If any mortal had happened upon the Elves, they would think it magical for surely they had stepped into another world to witness such a marvelous sight. And perhaps they would be right, for the Wood Elves wielded some strange magic to keep them safe in the darkness of the forest. That same magic brought them comfort, for the Elves of Mirkwood were a rather suspicious people and it was difficult for them to even think of not staying alert in their dangerous woods. However they were safe this night as their precautions would not allow any uninvited guests to get close into any of the festivities.

Safe with this knowledge, the Elves were well and truly relaxed. Laughter and songs escaped their lips, bodies twirled together in a dance known only to them, bowls of food exchanged hands, altogether forming quite a picture.

Through it all their King watched with a smile upon lips, eyes alight with the light of the fire. It brought him such joy to see his people free of worry, their sole concern on their merriment as opposed to their regular worries, that of the darkness and the ever increasing threat of another war. It had been trying these last few centuries filled with uncertainties and peril, and instead of improving their situation worsened. When it had first began it seemed manageable, with the spiders being easy to vanquish as they were rather vicious to each other as well as to others. As the years wore on, however, they seemed to become more intelligent forming groups and strategies in order to ensure a meal. From there it became a constant struggle to drive them back, along with the darkness that was tainting their beloved woods.

And now, look what has become of us. Hidden in a carven home, away from the animals and trees.

Thranduil while proud that they had survived and adapted – in a way they thrived even with their troubles – was bitter of what they had to sacrifice.

All without a Ring of Power as well.

That most of all stung to the Sinda, the knowledge that Imaldris and Lothlorien were kept safe without a need to fight for their every moment. He had asked for aid for so long from the so-called 'White Council' only to be waved away, and how that burned him. That they would ignore his concerns and insist that "it could not be that horrible King Thranduil, I am sure."

As if they knew his kingdom better than he.

"Would you like some wine Adar?"

Taurvantian looked upon his King, with well hidden concern, well aware with where his thoughts were. He held a goblet of wine in each hand, eyes intent upon his King observing the small signs that signified Thranduil's annoyance. Taurvantian being one of the few who could read the Elven-King so well, a product of spending much if his time with his father going over matters and being his most trusted confident.

A quiet breath left Thranduil, the only sign of his abrupt interruption from his rather negative thoughts, and graced his son with a smile. A small tilt of his head had his son take a seat beside him, handing the Elven-King a goblet full of wine as he faced him.

"Thank you, ion-nin." for something far more than fetching his father drink went unsaid but was understood, "I trust that you are enjoying yourself."

A broad grin was his answer as his child – for all that he was grown now – fairly beamed at him. A small smile was coaxed from his own unresisting lips at the expression, truly it was as if his son was once again that small elfling begging for more tales.

"Very much so Adar, it is refreshing to see our people so festive. It brings me great joy to see them so, why I even saw Vanyalanthiriel smiling. Though it was at Legolas so it should not be surprising."

It should not be indeed, Vanyalanthiriel was a lieutenant in Legolas' Guard and was very fond of him. She was also noted for having one of the most impassive faces in the kingdom third to only Thranduil and Calamaethor.

"Indeed and much as I appreciate you keeping an eye on your brothers do not spend the whole night troubling yourself. This night is as much for you to relax as our people."

Taking an absentminded sip of his wine, he savored the heady flavor that assaulted his tongue. From the year 2160 T.A. – a rather good year all things considered – if he was to guess, and he was rarely wrong about his wine.

"I could say the same of you Adar, I know that you have worries – as we all do – but you also deserve to enjoy yourself." The words were spoken only loud enough for Thranduil to here, of which the King was grateful for. It would not do for the King to be unhappy in a feast meant to lighten the atmosphere for them all.

Thranduil, regardless of what anyone said, was a good king – the greatest one that Greenwood would ever know – and he could not just silence the worries that he had for the kingdom. It was impossible to, for any kind of leader always worried over the well-being of those in their care. He was no different, apprehension constantly clawing away at his mind – his worries had only grown when he felt two separate feasts being moved prematurely. The protective magic only went to such extremes when some thing uninvited tried to join. It was extremely unlikely that it had been any of the Free People who just happened to stumble upon their merry making. Thus it only left either the blasted spiders – perhaps a few especially idiotic orcs? – or some enemy that was yet unknown to them. He had already sent warnings, and taken more precautions if the intruders decided to try their luck once again.

He was understandably not in the right spirits to revel in the festivities as he normally was.

"Adar? Are you well?" It was Calamaethor who said this, having arrived with bowls filled with various foods. Most of which contained some of his favored dishes, Thranduil could not help but note with faint amusement. Truly his children worried over his well-being as if he was their child, as if he needed to be reminded to eat. But perhaps he could momentarily let his worries rest – he would not ignore them, that could very well end in disaster – at least for a meal with his children.

They deserved at least that much.

"I am well my sons, you need not concern yourself overmuch. Truly I am well, merely pondering, that however can wait I am sure. Could one of you fetch your younger brother so we may begin?" Another sip was taken, hmm I must remember to praise Galion for his choice. Valar knows how long it would have taken otherwise.

~ o0o ~

Small hands rested fondly upon the dark trunk of a particular towering tree, communing with it as only Elves could. The aged tree regaling the child with tales that it had been witness to, whispering of things that once were, of bright warm days that had once gently washed over it. Through it all Legolas listened, large eyes bright with happiness, delighting in the soft words. The small elfling was content there, seated upon the ground as he was and no doubt dirtying his elegant robe. He could not find himself caring at the moment, thoughts focused entirely upon the voice of the tree. None would look for him for a while having already greeted all of the attendants, even talking with a few, but they had all eventually drifted away. He did not mind, he was well used to it, after all they were all much older than he. He had enjoyed conversing with his kin, but he was the youngest – the closest to his age were still several hundreds of years his elder – leaving him with limited companions.

The trees, however, alleviated the loneliness that he felt when he had none to accompany him. He was in a way isolated – not intentionally of course – having none close in age to converse with leaving him, he had no friends that he could interact with on equal footing. If it was not his age hindering him, it was his station that intimidated others from him.

The trees were constant companions, they cared not of his social standing or age, simply delighting in his company. Legolas treasured it, speaking regularly with many of the ones inhabiting and surrounding the palace, becoming a friend to them that not many became. He had learned how to speak as they did, imitating them so well that many trees thought he was as they were.

So deep was he in thoughts that the faint crunching of leaves startled him into breaking his connection with the great tree, straining to catch the noise once again. Nothing but silence reached his keen ears, stretching for so long the boy had convinced himself he had been mistaken. Shaking his head lightly, the child reach out his hand towards his speaking companion.

~ Crunch ~

The hand halted, hovering an inch or so from its former resting place on the dark bark. Indecision warred in the lady's mind, he had been warned against crossing into the dark woods without another, however he was so very tempted to investigate for the cause of the noise – you must remember that he was very much still young and prone to making rash decisions – of which he knew was a horrid action. Teeth bit into the soft pink of the Prince's bottom lip uncertainty, he should inform one of the others of the sound – or even ignore the noise all together. His more adventurous side (his Silvan side, his Adar would later bemoan) urged him to search for it.

Through it all the sound of crushing leaves became ever louder, hurried steps uncaring that they were giving their position away. Head slightly cocked, Legolas could discern more than one set of steps hurrying about – if he was to guess he would say perhaps twelve or thirteen. Curiosity final overcoming his good sense, he stood from his previous seated position and lightly dusting the back of his robe.

Nodding to himself, he turned towards the forest determination lining his body – his would find the perpetrators of that noise. Though the sound of the steps were mostly gone by now, being replaced by the faint shuffle of feet and crushing of the same leaves. Which was odd, perhaps they had stopped for a rest while the more restless ones dragged their feet in boredom?

It was only when he turned his attention towards the approximate place did he know he was wrong. For there hidden behind trunks of trees were fourteen pairs of eyes, all watching him with various degrees of awed surprise.

~ o0o ~

Word Count:1,998

Vanyalanthiriel (Vahn-gah-lahn-theer-ee-el) "Beautiful Waterfall" – Black hair, grey eyes – She is apart of Legolas' Guard

CoffeeRanger (guest): First, thanks for being my first reviewer - and I'm glad that you're enjoying it so far, hopefully you enjoy this chapter as well. That's just what I was going for with Thranduil, I'm glad to see it came across that way.

Horsegirl01: Glad to hear you like it! This is all done by phone so updates are slow going and my muse sometimes runs away screaming, but know I'll try my best to finish it.

Thanks for reading! And please leave a review and constructive criticism!