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Three days had passed since the return to Greenwood and Thranduil had just woken. It was about midday and he felt remarkably good and rested. In celebration of a battlefield victory it was common practice to hold a celebration. It was debatable if what had occurred was a victory or not but since the town had been liberated and reestablished in full Thranduil figured it was close enough to a victory to warrant a celebration. It had been a full year since they had left for the north what with all the time spent healing and trip back to Greenwood so perhaps the celebration was coming a bit late but it mattered not. As the Elven King floated from his chambers he told a few of the bustling servants to make preparations. They were all to delighted to do so. His father, Oropher, had been rather flamboyant with his celebrations and Thranduil would be no different. He truly enjoyed the festivities that his father would often indulge Greenwood in and saw no reason to change how things were done. Everyone who wished to attend could and there would be starlight, wine, music, decadent food, and good company aplenty. The only thing that bothered Thranduil was the matter of the raven haired elf. Would he not want to attend? Would he accept Thranduil's invitation? Did he have anything to wear? Was he even still in Greenwood? Was it possible that he didn't want to see Thranduil? Shaking his head and with a determine stride and all the excitement of a youth asking their crush to attend an annual festival the starlight haired elf king set off to Himelon's room.
He Thranduil had arrived to the set of strong oak doors carved to depict the journey of the elves to Middle Earth he was stuck by both the irony of the fact that the first elf to come to Middle Earth lay beyond and also by a fear. The fear that Himelon no longer resided inside to room and had snuck off while his King slept. For a moment Thranduil couldn't bring himself to knock. It was as if his hands were weighed down by anchors. It wasn't until he heard a soft rustling inside to room that he knocked. Silence is what Thranduil was met with. Knowing that someone was inside the starlight haired elf slowly pushed the door open and entered the room. It was freezing cold despite the general outside temperature being warm. The Elven King had come to know, by speaking with Elrond, that Himelon always felt outwardly cold. He was older that any other elves in Middle Earth and had abilities that seemed to revolve around ice and shadow. Letting out a soft chuckle Thranduil glided over to the bed and peered at the sleeping elf.
Himelon's raven hair was strewn about the pillows while his face was obscured by the large body pillow he was cuddling. He wore no shirt and the blankets hid whether or not he wore trousers. The muscles in his back and shoulders contracted and relaxed as Himelon's hands gripped at the pillow and then loosened again. The raven haired elf cooed and muttered softly in his sleep. Thranduil felt a small blush slip across his face as he pondered what kind of pleasant dream the raven haired elf might be having. For a moment he considered leaving and not disturbing Himelon. Decidedly he did not leave. Instead the starlight haired male gently brushed his hand along the sleeping elf's neck and shoulders.
"Time to wake pen tithen." Thranduil felt slightly odd calling the sleeping elf "little" and yet he was using it as a sweet term rather than identifier. Perhaps it was not that odd at all. He had expected the other male to stir and wake but what he got was a soft gasp and Himelon rolling towards him. To keep the raven haired elf from rolling off the bed the Elven King sat down abruptly as Himelon curled around him muttering softly. Yet again Thranduil tried to wake him by stroking the raven haired elf's shoulder all the while blushing softly. The touch was significantly more successful in waking Himelon but what he got in return was a sharp blush and a startled Himelon. The starlight haired king chuckled softly as the raven haired elf blushed and scuttled away from him and ultimately slid right off the other side of the bed.
"How long have you been there?" the raven haired elf was no doubt embarrassed to wake and find Thranduil watching him sleep. It wasn't exactly something that happened often and in truth Himelon rather liked the idea but it was still startling.
"Perhaps a minute," Thranduil offered an amused smile as he slid around the bed to help the raven haired elf back to his feet, "You were sighing in your sleep. Having a good dream?" The question was accented with a slight tilt of Thranduil's head. As Himelon rose to his feet the blonde took note of how Himelon's hand rested a little too long in his own. The rather cute response and lingering touch set Thranduil's mind partially at ease. The raven haired elf did not hate him and that boosted the chances that Himelon would accept his invitation. Ordinarily Thranduil wouldn't have been worried about such things. He was King. There was practically no one who would reject and invitation to a celebration from him. And yet he knew that Himelon could have potential to be that one elf in all of Middle Earth to say no. As he watched Himelon glide effortlessly around the room and slide on the neatly folded silver shirt sitting by the window he gathered his courage to make his inquiry.
"There is going to be a celebration tonight," Thranduil began as he closed the gap between himself and the raven haired elf, "Will you attend as my guest?" The question had been accented with slender fingers running gently through raven hair as Thranduil helped Himelon slip on the black shirt he was truly never without.
"I don't usually go to such things," Himelon sighed averting his gaze to the floor and moving away from the Elven King's hand, "There's always too many people." Himelon caught the slightly disappointed look on Thranduil's face before the starlight haired male's ordinarily stony expression returned. The split second that it had taken Himelon to see the other's face had been all that was necessary to convince him to continue.
"However," the raven haired elf sighed and smiled softly at Thranduil who had begun to take his leave, "I cannot exactly refuse the Great Elven King now could I?" The smile that had worked its way across Himelon's face lit up Thranduil's own as he moved back over to the other male.
"Excellent," Thranduil practically purred as he ushered Himelon out the door with a few gentle pushes, "You will need something suitable to wear then." The all too proud smile that had situated itself on Thranduil's face only made Himelon laugh. He looked like a combination of an elfling that was all too proud of catching a frog and a youth all too eager to impress their date. That was in essence what Thranduil was doing by taking Himelon shopping. He was trying to impress him. Not that such a thing was even necessary. Yet Himelon found it rather nice and kind of cute that the starlight haired male would want to be old-fashioned about courting him. Himelon was more surprised than anything that the King of the elves would even consider courting him. None the less here they were. Thranduil was proudly escorting Himelon down to the main markets of the courtyard to get him a "suitable" outfit for the celebration. Part of the raven haired elf was excited about it while the rest of him was dreading the price tag. It had been ages since he had worn anything kingly or truly regal. The last time he dawned such a thing was back in Valinor if you weren't counting the battle with his mithril armor.