IV: Feast of False Hopes

The feast was as lively as ever, despite the knowledge of the darkening of Greenwood weighing upon the shoulders of those the king had allowed to know such information. Thus far, I believed it was only Legolas, Thranduil, and myself that had been privy to the new terrors that might be transpiring against the beautiful greenery.

Thranduil sat at the head of the table with Legolas to his right. I had been moved from beside the prince to the king's left-hand, though it only made my heart pound harder at the thought of asking him to allow me to tread where danger may lurk. Nonetheless, I did not let it stop me from lively conversations with my surrounding kin.

"And then I tell Lady Faelwen, should she strike the target from the top of the staircase, I would be at her beck and call for a fortnight," Legolas regaled grandly, speaking of a small competition we had gone through before he left for the last scout. "Faelwen, please tell them of what happened."

I was twisting my hair, laughter dancing across my lips. "His face I will never forget! I struck the target, dead-center. I am not fond of swords or daggers, but I am proficient with a bow, a trait he should have realized long ago." I smiled delightedly at the ellon. "Did any of you know that your prince could wash a dress? It was something I shall not soon forget either!"

The elves around us burst into uproarious laughter at the expense of their grinning prince. Legolas had told one of the few interesting stories we shared that night to better acquaint me with more of the nobility. He had realized my lack of companionship in these halls, but rarely commented on it.

"Lady Faelwen," I heard the smooth voice call to my right. The laughter died out as the king spoke, turning our silent attentions to him. "Stop twisting your locks. We would not want you to return to Lothlórien without that which you are known for."

I sat my hands in my lap, brooding on the inside about being reprimanded. He was far older than me, despite the lack of age on his face, and the king no less. I had to constantly remind myself that I could not joke with him as I did Celeborn, nor did I feel as comfortable around him.

"Ada," Legolas finally spoke. "I would like to request for you to allow Lady Faelwen with me on my trip tomorrow. She longs for the forests and I believe she would enjoy the outing. I am capable of protecting her, should she be unable to protect herself."

Thranduil cocked a single, thick brow at his son. "Your intentions to me are unclear towards our guest, Legolas. I cannot allow Lady Faelwen to traipse where danger may be waiting. Her father and guardians would be most displeased."

My mouth dropped slightly at his bold statement. Before I could answer him, Legolas interjected, "My intentions are pure and clear, Ada. She is my friend, nothing more."

"Your son has been the only friend I have made while in your beautiful kingdom. I would be fine leaving for a few nights, King Thranduil." I clenched my fists in my lap. "I have seen many terrors with my father and we have fought them together all throughout Middle-Earth. If I may implore you to reconsider-"

"You may not," he said languidly. "My word is final. Lady Faelwen will remain here. Should you feel the need to venture into the forests, I shall personally escort you."

Murmurs began throughout the feast-goers on the king's brash remark. I gnawed my lower lip, praying I would not be in Greenwood much longer. I was unsure how long I could hold my tongue with the snarky, stoic king staring down his nose at me. I had never had to hold my words in Lothlórien as I did here. It was maddening, to say the least.

"My thanks," I murmured when it appeared he expected something from me.

"Faelwen," Legolas called quickly, noticing my foul mood. He could read me far better than any at this table could, "There is a flower that grows in the area I am going. It is the purest white I have ever seen and twice as beautiful. Perhaps I could bring some to decorate your room?"

"Perhaps something blue as well?" I asked, my smile growing once more. "It is my favored color and we have very few that grow in Lothlórien of the sort."

"I will try and find any that I can," he promised happily. "Would you care for a dance until then?"

"I suppose I can find the energy." I laughed and stood from the table.

I missed Thranduil's boring gaze as we walked away from our seats and joined the throng of elves dancing blissfully in the moonlight.

The morning Legolas was meant to leave, he stopped by my rooms and asked me to bless him on his trip. He was going with an elleth he favored named Tauriel, who I had yet to meet, and planned on attempting to woo her again. He said he did not feel the bond of our people with her just yet, but hoped she was the one that would capture his soul between her beautiful fingers.

I hoped above all she was the one for him. Legolas was an ellon that loved to flirt and woo any that crossed his path of elven beauty, but she was his exception. He cared for her in some way, but I did not know how deep that love ran. Perhaps she was the one he would tie to forever, or perhaps she was a passing love that was not meant to be bound by the handsome prince.

That had been over a week ago and I had been bored out of my mind since then. It was hard to find something to occupy myself when I was not traveling Middle-Earth. I loved learning new things on the different races, and thus far dwarves had been some of my preferred reading topics. They were such a different culture from the refinement of Elvenkind, a trait I sometimes wished we shared. They were known for their merrymaking and the crafting of fine armor and weaponry, but I had not yet met any. It was a shame; I hoped to one day have the chance to converse fully with one of their kind.

One of the few hobbies I had found was reading in the expansive library King Thranduil kept. It was in this particular room that I found a few books on the hairy race, which I had sitting upon my lap. I had a nook I preferred here, whether Legolas was with me or not, and had curled up against the lavish pillows to pass the time.

I was unaware of how long I sat there, reading the books on dwarven lore, but I was sure it was at least the length of the day. The ancient tome was so worn, I found it hard to read some of the text before me. The language was just as obscure as the lettering, but my father had taught me well. I knew many different languages and could speak, read, and write all of them fluently. What else does one have to learn when they do not pass away from age?

It was in this spot that King Thranduil caught me unaware. I was so engrossed, I did not hear the nearly silent patter of his long strides or the swish of his gown. Only when his shadow blocked part of the enchanted lights in the room did I realize he stood just over my shoulder, bent slightly at the waist to read the words I had been pouring over.

"Dwarves?" he asked with a hint of disdain in his smooth voice. "Why would an elleth waste her time reading on such a barbaric race?"

"I find them fascinating," I replied honestly. "I love learning on the different races of Arda. Thus far, I have found the dwarves to be the most interesting of all. Their ways are so culturally different, and yet I have never had the pleasure of meeting them."

Thranduil's face curled then evened again. It was rare his mask broke, but I often caught when it did. "They are a brutish people covered in hair and boisterous. They are not worth the time it takes to find them."

"You've met dwarves before?" I said excitedly and closed my book to stare up at him. "Are they as excitable and as fine of craftsmen as the books foretell?"

"Their weapons do not compare to that of our kin and their feasting tendencies are repulsive." Thranduil held his hand out to help me up and I took it eagerly, wanting to know as much as I could of the race I found so perplexing.

He released my hand and led me to the fireplace nearby. The underground kingdom had begun to grow chillier in the coming winter months, thus the hearth had been stoked and warmed the area near to it. Fine, plush chairs and a table were set up in front of the fire, warm to the touch and beckoning to any that wandered near.

Thranduil sat in one of the armchairs and crossed his legs, letting his arms rest delicately against the upholstery. I took the one closest to him and opened the book in my hands, holding it to him and pointing to a crude drawing of a dwarf female. She was hairy and bearded; her only discerning features as a woman was the dress she wore and the length of her copper eyelashes.

"Are the women truly bearded? I cannot believe a woman could be so." I grinned up at him and the king seem unperturbed at my closeness.

"The drawing does not misrepresent their females. They are stocky and horrible to look upon," he drawled, avoiding the book as if it were a plague.

"Why do you hate them so?" I asked finally.

Thranduil did not seem inclined to answer, but my pleading eyes must have had some pull over the harsh ellon. "When the dragon, Smaug, took over the Lonely Mountain, he procured a pile of stones that belonged to me. I was to take them from their king upon our next meeting, but the dwarf refused to find the time to travel to my kingdom. As I descended to take them, by force if need-be, I watched their mountain fall."

"These gems, where they the rumored white stones?"

Again, the king eyed me. "I suppose Galadriel has spoken of them."

"My guardian knows all," I answered cryptically. "She likened me to them. It is one of the many reasons I am her gem, her jewel. I believe you see that same color when you look upon my hair. You are not the first, nor will you be the last."

Thranduil's eyes fell to my hair and he did not tear his gaze away as soon as either of us would have liked. "Those braids are familiar to me. Poor, but familiar. Did my son teach you?"

"I have lived far longer than your son, yet I am still untalented when it comes to the braids of our people." I fingered one of the braids that kept my hair from my face, feeling the bumps that stuck out further than others. "He has tried to teach me, but I'm still inexperienced."

"Come here," Thranduil ordered in the tone of a king and gestured to the ottoman before his chair. "Sit."

I hesitated, but positioned myself with my back to him and in front of the powerful ellon. Certainly he was not about to fix my mistakes; he was not the sort of man that opted for contact amongst others. Few times he had offered me his hand, and fewer still had he touched my hair, despite his awareness of it.

"Has my son spoken truth; are you friends with him, nothing more?" As he spoke, the gentle hands of the King of Greenwood began to unweave the knotted mess I had created that morning.

"I say once more, my King; that I have lived far longer than him. I wish to find the ellon I shall bond with eternally. Legolas is not he. I value his friendship, companionship. Without him, I have no one here to placate my time with and he has been nothing but accommodating." I bit back a twitch when those twisting fingers tugged out a rather rough spot I had troubled with. "Am I keeping you from something, my King? I have not yet seen you wandering your library, and now I fear I'm taking your time from something important."

"My time is spent as I please. I came to find my guest when she did not show up for the nightly feast."

Had the hour really grown so late that I missed dinner? It was the only chance I had to go outside, yet I had been so enraptured by the book on the dwarves I had forgone eating in exchange for reading. My chance had been lost.

Thranduil

The king would be lying if he said he had not been worried; Faelwen's love for the world outside his underground kingdom was obvious, if not frustrating. She had yet to miss a chance to draw from his halls and partake in the open air. He had not had the chance to enjoy himself and had left the feast early to assure he would not be sending news of her disappearance to Bregolien and Galadriel.

He knew all through his servants and guards, thus finding her had not been a problem. She seemed to spend her days reading in his library when she was not in her rooms and always buried herself in a certain nook built into the wall, hidden behind a few rows of shelves from the door and covered in pillows to sit upon. Legolas joined her when he was not with his ward, Tauriel, or scouting.

Thranduil would also be lying if he said what Faelwen had noticed wasn't true. He had likened her hair to the precious gems in the Lonely Mountain he coveted. His private vault held many of the stones, but he wanted all he could find. He planned to one day regain the jewels, but for now he had other things to concern himself with.

His guest was one of them. Thranduil remembered the child from so very long ago- a millennia, if not more- that ran into his legs in the halls. He had not noticed the hue of her hair then, and if he had never seen it in the sunlight, he would not have known its beauty. He coveted all things white and precious, but she was Galadriel, Celeborn, and Bregolien's treasure. It was for this reason alone he kept her locked away instead of allowing her freedom outside of his home. If something were to befall her, Elvenkind would lose something rare and lovely.

Thranduil knew she had a fierce temper; he did not miss how she quelled her temper when he said something she did not approve of. He had often heard her joking violently with Legolas, though never had she spilled such words to him. She was an elleth, but she was also a traveler. She was refined and groomed for a station Galadriel had given, yet she was unruly and temperamental as well.

Secretly, he gazed upon her. She may not have held the beauty of Galadriel to many, but to Thranduil- who did indeed know of his obsession for white-hued treasures- she was exquisite. There would come a time he would need to send her back to Lothlórien, when the wars did not venture any closer to its borders, and at that time he would lose his current possession. Keeping her would start a war and he had no doubt she would find a means to escape, likely with the aid of his son.

No, he would not lock her away, but he would enjoy the gift he had been given for the time being.

"My apologies for missing the feast," she said dejectedly, visibly deflating. Faelwen was never one to hide her emotions as he did. She may have been old- ancient by the years of men-, but she was certainly as open as the youth of their kin. "I shall go to the kitchens later and retrieve something, should I grow hungry in the night."

His hands trailed through her white tresses, tracing the gentle waves near the ends with his fingers. Were all elves from Valinor this beautiful? He had never laid eyes on any but those Galadriel brought alongside her. Bregolien was a tall ellon with pale golden hair, much like Celeborn, but it was Galadriel and the late Eleniel that had shone like stars. Galadriel was wise and lovely, Eleniel was kind and fair during her days. His father had been awed by her, much like Thranduil to the younger elleth before him, upon meeting her. He had spoken of the woman until his death, though had always loved his mother and had never pursued his wild infatuation with the bonded elleth.

Thranduil had long-since removed the haphazard braids from the locks and instead busied himself with combing it through, knowing he would soon need to break from her to avoid any misconceptions. She was not his, and for that matter, did he really want her? Did he simply covet the elleth for her remarkable hair? He would know in time, but he certainly knew he did not love her. He had loved his wife, but had never bonded her. Elves did not always bond; it was a special union brought by Ilúvatar upon finding the mate meant for eternity or more.

"I will share a secret," he said quietly, leaning closer to her and closing his eyes as he brushed her hair against his face. Soft, like silk...

Pure starlight...

Faelwen never moved, though her back straightened. She did not seem fully aware of how close he leaned to her and he would have it no other way. He stood finally, releasing the gem, and instead strolled around to face her. His silver gown glittered in the lighting of his library, glinting off her eyes, hair, skin... Anything it touched was alight. Carefully, he took both her hands and pulled her to her feet. Faelwen cocked her head, letting that which he found mesmerizing pool against her shoulders. Small kinks had been made from the tightness of her poor braiding, but he barely noticed just minor details.

"This way, Lady Faelwen." He dropped her hands and began his descent from the library, instead leading her to his rooms. She seemed hesitant to enter, but followed when he turned his gaze to her. "You have nothing to fear from me, jewel of Lothlórien. I merely have something you might wish to see. Guard, have some food sent up for me and the Lady Faelwen."

As the guard left, Thranduil pushed open the grandiose entrance to his private chambers. Within, a sitting room decorated with the finest cloths and fixtures awaited, but he did not stop even then. Across the room stood a door covered by silver tapestries, and beyond a balcony that jutted from the side of a hill. It was large, open, and had plush chairs and an intricate table set against the night sky, near to the natural railing. It was hidden from view, should any attempt to steal away into his rooms at night, and the hill it protruded from was too vast to scale down or up. It was a private paradise and a place he often went to hide away from the darkness of the underground.

"Oh," she whispered in awe. Secretly, he delighted in the way her lips parted and her pale eyelashes fell against matching cheeks when the wind touched her skin. "This... is beyond words."

He watched her as she strode to the railing, gripping the bark that been both natural and carved to accommodate his whims. She sighed, leaning further against it and Thranduil had a fleeting fear she would fall to her death should she twist her body further. Faelwen moved away before he could voice his concerns.

"May I enjoy it for a time?" she asked him earnestly. The smile on her face lit up the darkness more than the torches and he found himself offering her the lightest twitch of a smile in return.

"We will dine here then." He whisked into a nearby seat positioned in front of the table, his right side towards the railing so he could still see the beauty of his forests and the elleth that sat across from him.

She leaned back in her own chair, savoring the crisp night air. She was cold, but not enough to be noticeable yet. For now, she would enjoy the small reprieve the king had given her to the fullest. She cherished his kindnesses whole-heartedly.

Their food was brought before them, still warm with a jug of wine. Serving girls poured their drinks and set up their meals. Thranduil remained silent, stealing glances at the pure starlight across from him, and he found it slightly endearing when she thanked each girl by name, as if she had made the time to learn them. Perhaps she had; Faelwen had plenty of free time in his walls. The serving girls seemed pleased with her and smiled prettily at the elleth.

They ate in silence, through Thranduil could see how her shoulders shook when she thought he had not noticed. The air was growing more frigid and his gown was much thicker than hers. He stood from his seat and moved into his private rooms, procuring a silvery cloak that would suit his needs. When he returned, Faelwen had completed her meal and was clasping the cup of wine as if it would bring her warmth.

"My thanks," she said cheerfully when he draped the cloak around her thin shoulders. His fingers barely touched the skin that lie there, but he relished in it. "I am honored you would show me this, my King. In the following days, I would like to travel outside of the palace once more, should you be available to escort me."

"I have told you," he replied with his eyebrows raised and his wide eyes on her, "I do as I please. Perhaps in two days' time, we shall venture into the gardens you have yet to see."

"I would like that." Faelwen graced him with another honest smile, one that fit her face well. She took in the silence a few minutes longer and stood, folding his cloak up with practiced hands. "I believe I will retire, my King. The hour is late and I feel the need for rest creeping on me."

Thranduil stood as well and took the cloak from her palms. She bowed to him a time more and nearly danced from the private balcony. He watched her dress curl around her feet as she moved, as graceful as the wind itself, until she disappeared beyond the door to his rooms.

Her stay would certainly be too short, no matter the length of time. Thranduil just never realized how little time he had left.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!