I did not rise again from my bed until high noon the following day. Guilt escaped me, for the indulgence of pure laziness refreshed me completely, and by the time I had washed the stink of the previous night from my body and dressed in a clean gown, I was smiling and pointedly ignoring any leftover aversion from the quarrel.

I went in search of a meal, and successfully pilfered a pie baked with leftover meats. I took that, along with a skin of cold water, to the front gate of the city and straight out. The ring wherein the wrestling contest would have begun early in the morning was a very short walk, and it was an easy task to find Thranduil in the crowd, as he was raised above the rest and sitting in a much more comfortable chair. I was thankful to see that I was not forgotten, and I took my place by him, settling comfortably on the cushion that had been provided.

"You rose late," he commented, not taking his attention from the sport. It was almost over, for the smaller of the opponents was visibly tiring, and was easily taken down and pinned.

"I do not regret it," I said, and wish a relish I dug into my meal. "Has anything of special note occurred while I tarried?"

"There have been some very distraught losers, and triumphant winners."

"An astute observation," I said, and the current match ended. The loser limped from the ring, but a pretty woman was quick to lay a cold compress on his brow. I wondered, from the pitiful look on his face and the benevolent look on the lady's, if he lost on purpose. "Have you heard from Belegorn?" I asked.

"I heard from a warden that he left before dawn. He took naught but his crossbow and a horse. Legolas accompanied him."

"Legolas!" I cried, drawing the attention of those near us. "Whatever for!"

"You may draw your own conclusions."

I pondered this while I demolished the pie and watched the next match – a male and female. They had similar statures, and by the noise the crowd made, the woman was favored to win. She quickly became my favorite as well, for I admired the moment when she wrapped an arm around his to place her hand on his shoulder, and whirl him around before kicking his legs out from under him.

"Making him dizzy is a decent strategy," I said.

"It does appear to be something that you would do," Thranduil said. He did not seem as impressed as I was.

"Yes," I said. "But I have not properly wrestled for years, and I have no intention of starting again now."

The female had won while we were discussing her, and I cheered along with the rest as she pumped her fist in the air in victory. While the next match was being set, I had a chance to wonder more of Legolas. Why had he gone with Belegorn? He was usually much wiser than his brother, surely he would have seen the futility of the scheme. I thought of their childhood behaviors, and there I found my answer. It matched perfectly with Legolas's words of the previous evening.

He was jealous of Belegorn! Belegorn was older, the crown prince, and lavished with attention. That by itself would not have bothered Legolas, in my opinion, if only his brother had treated him better. Now I could see the connection, and more clearly the reasons for Legolas's solitary personality, and why he had spoken badly of his kills from the hunt.

Another match had been fought and won and I sat, dazed. I leaned over to Thranduil, and he returned the gesture so that I could speak quietly into his ear.

"I do think that Legolas wants to prove himself as well. Not to us, but to Belegorn. Long has he pined for the approval of his older brother."

"I see," the king said. "More the folly, I suppose."

"Thranduil!" I said, aghast. "Do not speak so of Legolas so despairingly! His actions may be poorly thought out, but he can hardly be blamed for the feelings that have driven him thus."

"I did not speak despairingly," he replied, mild to my astonishment. "They are both blinded by youth, that is all."

I resettled myself in my chair starchily, my back ramrod straight. "You loved me in our youth," I hissed out of the corner of my mouth, pretending to be watching the contest. "Was that blind, or were you immune to madness?"

"Please, Caradel," Thranduil patted my clenched hands, sounding amused. "Those sorts of remarks do not become you. One might be led to believe that you are begging for a compliment."

I fumed in silence, not willing to be cajoled into a better mood. I did not enjoy the remaining matches, and I was quick to leave the area as the final winner was announced, along with supper. I ate alone in our rooms that evening, for the anxieties of Belegorn's quest and Legolas's weakness sat on my mind like a heavy brick.

Though the archery contests were to monopolize the next day, the king had received what must have been a truly important missive and so called a council. I did not regret missing the games, and I sat unobtrusively at Thranduil's side while he made his announcement.

"I have received word of a dwarf settlement near to us," he said, though sitting, in his chair he remained taller than the rest of us. "Though I suppose, not terribly near. The...ah, king, Thráin*, has invited me to be his guest in his home. They call it the Kingdom under the Mountain," he picked up the letter to clarify the location. "The same from which flow the waters of the Celduin."

"Were there not dwarves living there previously?" an elf asked.

"I believe so," Thranduil replied. "But without a king. It was simply a colony, and a poor one, from the sounds of it. There are few settlements where they may trade, and have never contacted us."

"They will want to trade now," I clarified.

"That is my assumption. But I have no intention of leaving for the forest to find out. I wish for a volunteer to be my representative to these dwarves."

I could have laughed at the apparent discomfort on the faces of the council members. There would be no volunteering from them, I would wager. "I will do it," I said. "I have little else to do."

The king turned to me, not hiding his confusion. "And who will be the steward of the watches?" he asked.

"Legolas."

"Legolas!"

"Certainly," I said, keeping my voice low. There was a bit of undisguised interest from the other individuals in regards to our private words. "He knows the position, and it will keep him from any…negative influences. He will do well with the responsibilities. And if he denies it in favor of another occupation, there are plenty of others that could perform admirably."

Thranduil pondered this. "Your plan seems sound. I give my permission."

"Excellent! I have longed to know dwarves better since the Ring War," I chirped in satisfaction.

There seemed to be further matters of business, for Thranduil had opened his mouth to address the council once more. But a banging and shouting outside the door gave him pause, and a moment later the guards that stood watch outside the chamber opened the great doors, and my smile faded.

Belegorn strode in, all confidence and pride. Across his shoulder was the white stag, blood dripping from a wound near its heart and spilling onto the ground in the now silence room in soft plinks. Legolas paced behind him, his jaw twitching but held high. I stood, for I could hardly tear my eyes from the beautiful creature that I had only seen once before.

Nobody spoke, as the crown prince continued his trek and stopped before Thranduil. The carcass was swung from his shoulders and flung onto the table with a mighty thud. Belegorn bowed, mockingly, and his eyes challenged his father.

"Do I meet your approval, sir?" he asked.

The king had already risen to his feet in measured movements, fury shaking his body, which he kept firmly under control. Even so, I had never seen him so livid. The tension in the room was palpable, and I saw a few hold their hands to their mouths, in disgust or fear. I could not speak. It seemed to me that Belegorn had committed a crime, a deadly infraction and I did not think that even he realized it.

"Get out! Get out of my sight!" the king roared, and I started at the sudden noise, which would have been heard throughout the palace. Though his words were only for his eldest son, there was a minor rampage as all present ran for the door. I did not run, but sidled across the wall, trying to hide, and was able to make my escape through the back entrance that stood behind the king's chair.

*Thráin I and his son, Thorin I (who shows up later), are NOT the Thráin and Thorin that we know from the Hobbit. This Thráin fled Moria after the awakening of Durin's Bane, and made Erebor the capital of the dwarves. Further information of their lives and actions will be given…later ;)

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