Chapter 13

Apologies for the delay! I've had a few losses in my family recently plus I've been planning my wedding (Nov, yay!). I ended up adding so much to this chapter I eventually decided to split it into two parts. But I think it was for the best!

…

Legolas was growing to be a strong young elf, with a keen instinct and a sharp observant nature. So it was not a surprise when he immediately picked up on the frigid air between his adar and Miriel the next morning over breakfast. Their hosts had seen fit to provide them with a more relaxed, private mealtime on the overlook of their wing of suites. Which meant every morning Miri, Legolas, Thranduil, Galion, and Carwegeth sat down to a generous array of fruits, pastries, tea, and cheese.

The morning following her row with Thranduil, Miri drifted to her chosen seat with a forced air of cheer. Carwegeth and Galion issued their usual greetings. Thranduil didn't look up from his paperwork; this wasn't unusual, he had been consumed with diplomatic treaties and trade agreements most afternoons. But he didn't offer her his typical murmur of "good morning." Hopefully, it would be dismissed as a lack of focus on his part.

And yet.

Legolas had made a note of the exchange — or rather, lack thereof. His small frown made Miri give an international cringe. She occupied herself with buttering a roll and prayed the prince might be too occupied with festivities to pick up on their conflict.

Alas, she watched the elfling's eyes move between the king and his caretaker throughout the day, taking in every detail of their careful avoidance. After breakfast, they accompanied the wedding party and assorted guests to a choral performance of some of the elflings Celebrian had instructed prior to her engagement. Once again, the bride was moved to tears by the romantic renditions of traditional ballads. Following this, they had formal poetry readings before supper. Lord Elrond offered to recite an epic he himself had written in his youth — "When one has such time for things," he said with a wink — and thankfully Legolas had been entranced.

Dinner was an overly-elaborate feast. Miri picked at her portion of suckling pig, pushing it around the golden plate as talk flitted between what homey touches Celebrian might bring to Rivendell, to the latest designs in elven armor. Celeborn mentioned, far down the table from where she sat, that of late he'd been investing in expanding one of the family's smaller gardens. She felt the brief yet heated gaze of Thranduil brush upon her.

Of course, she was forced to sit directly between her prince and her king for their after-dinner entertainment — fire dancers, who had a routine with elements to each elven court represented in their gathering. While Legolas watched with wide eyes, Thranduil only allowed a small smile at the dancer's depiction of the Greenwood's massive oaks. Miri applauded until her palms ached, just to spite him.

…

With only a few more days between their departure, Miri was determined to keep a healthy distance between herself and the elfking, while not attracting anymore attention from Legolas nor alert the Lorien court to their discord. At breakfast, she announced she would spend the day showing Legolas some of his mother's most favored spots in Lothlorien. The library where they'd spent their youth tormenting their tutor. The spring-fed pond in a hidden glen, where they'd idled many summer afternoons in cool water. The orchard where they'd been caught not once nor twice, but three times, sneaking pears and plums….

"We'll be out all day," she informed the group. "I plan to ask the kitchen staff if they would be so kind as to pack us a picnic lunch."

Legolas could barely contain his excitement. "Ada, will you join us?"

Thranduil spoke in measured tones over the rim of his teacup. "I am afraid I am otherwise occupied, ion nin. Though had my seneschal seen fit to inform me of her plans, mayhaps I might've been able to shift my appointments."

He did not glance Miri's way once as he said this. She repressed the urge to snap back. Instead, Miriel smiled sweetly.

"Apologies, my king. I assumed you would be too busy with your meetings with the lords of the other elven courts. How foolish of me."

Thranduil glowered into his teacup. "Indeed."

…

Later, sitting alongside Legolas with their toes submerged in the little pond, she reflected on her blessings. It was a compulsive attempt at turning her mood around and thankfully it seemed to be working. It was a lovely day, warm without being stifling. The cold spring water didn't sting as much after a few minutes of sitting on the bank. And her favorite person was beside her.

After filling themselves to nearly bursting under the trees of the orchard, they'd retired to the glen and sank next to the cattails. Legolas kicked his legs, watching the water splash.

"You and naneth played here?"

Miri nodded. "We'd sneak out of our lessons early to swim on hot summer days. But we were always caught — our hair was never dry enough to be convincing."

The prince giggled.

"However, you shouldn't skip your classes," she added as an afterthought. "Istuion would be so disappointed."

Legolas shook his head fervently, laughing again, blonde locks shimmering in the afternoon light. Too innocently, the prince professed, "Of course, never."

Miri watched the water ripple with another splash. His laugh was only a little like Cala's, but still, the location and the sound melded to sent her into the past. Her girlhood were well-spent under these trees. Even the bitter moments could be overlooked when weight against the good ones.

…

As always, the parting rituals took more time than Thranduil believed they merited. Celeborn was too prone to wax poetic about the union between their peoples. He'd fruitlessly hoped by scheduling their departure before the Lord and Lady's daughter left for Rivendell, the Greenwood party might avoid the tedious formalities.

It was not to be. Mercifully, Carwegeth sacrificed herself to engage Celeborn's focus, solemnly nodding and hanging on to his every word while the rest of their party stood, bleary-eyed, awaiting their release. Bless her, she even asked questions.

Galadriel took this opportunity to clasp her cold hands in his, her secretive smile already too alert for his liking. Valar, it was too early for this.

"You have shown us a great kindness in coming all this way to see our daughter wed," she said. "A true, dear friend, as ever, Thranduil Oropherion."

"We are ever in your service, my lady," he intoned gravely.

"If only others were as blessed as we. Lord Elrond was also deeply humbled by your presence on his most happy day. He much admires you."

Thranduil doubted this but he allowed a small smile. "It is I who am flattered by Elrond extending his wish to have us in attendance. I wish he and your daughter find much happiness."

"Indeed," she agreed. "Their dedication towards one another reminds me of the days Celeborn spent courting me. I believe Elrond quite outshone Celeborn's vows — he cried far more, at any rate."

"Tears are to be expected, at a wedding."

Her enigmatic gaze shifted subtly left, where Miri stood over Legolas. Back in riding attire, the elleth had a glazed expression as she nodded along with Celeborn's observations on the bodies of water they'd encountered on their journey home. Legola's eyes drooped.

"I hope we may soon return the favor, your highness."

His jaw tightened. "I do not foresee my son finding a mate anytime within the next century."

She laughed; it was musical, the tinkling of bells in a spring breeze. "I do not speak of young Legolas."

It took much to hold his tongue. For the sake of the Lady of Lothlorien and their diplomatic relations, he simply pursed his lips in displeasure.

"She is a dedicated partner, to return to our forest for the sake of yourself and your son. I know it could not have been easy for her."

"I would hardly refer to my seneschal as my 'partner,'" he managed to say evenly, with only the barest hint of ice.

Galadriel smiled knowingly. "She's had eyes for you since your first time under our trees. It would surprise no one if you were to find a way to each other someday."

Thranduil let out a low bark of a laugh. "I fear if anyone should be awaiting a union between myself and Miriel Avarethil they shall be waiting a long time. They would be better off waiting for the end of time."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure flinch. Miri. She'd heard his insult. Good.

The victory felt hollow.

…

As usual, Miri rode up at the front of the party. Galion was beside Thranduil at the head, then Miri and Legolas behind them. However, on their journey to Lórien, Thranduil would still often glance back to seek Miriel's opinion on some matter or share a joke. As they rode out of Celebrían and Galadriel's home, Thranduil sat straight-backed in the saddle, tension taut in every muscle. Miriel had deliberately positioned herself so she did not ride behind the king but instead stared straight ahead at Galion's back.

To her relief, Legolas did not ask what had occurred between them. Even when they stopped to camp and Miriel and Thranduil studiously ignored one another as the party made camp. Miri pitched her tent all the way across the circle from the king's when she had established herself next to him on the previous journey. And as their trip went from one day to two to three and then four, Legolas still said nothing. Merely watched.

Galion was not content to sit back and let the pair remain in glacial silence, however. For the first two days, as they rode, he attempted to include Miriel in their conversations, turning back to her often, his smile too wide and laughter too loud. Then he tried forcing them to ride side-by-side, claiming he wanted to speak with Legolas. So as not to cause a fuss, Miriel took his place beside the king, but four hours passed and neither acknowledged the other.

Finally, he broke on the fourth evening, cornering Miri as she made her way to a nearby river for a bath in the freezing water just after setting up her tent.

"What is going on?" he hissed, falling into step beside her.

"What do you mean?" she asked calmly.

Galion glared. "You're both acting as though the other doesn't exist. Or, otherwise, as though the other murdered your prized goat. What happened?"

Her eyes did not stray from the water, just past the treelike. A few moments of cleanliness awaited if only Galion would cease this pointless interrogation…

"Have you asked Thranduil?"

The ellon's scowl only deepened. "Of course, I haven't," he snapped. "He'd sooner throw me to the spiders than tell me anything of that nature."

"What makes you believe I'll be any more forthcoming?"

"Miriel! Everyone is on tenterhooks. It's clear you're both angry, but for the party's sake can you not, I don't know?" He flailed his arms in a gesture implying reconciliation. "Speak to him?"

"Everyone, or just one particular elf?" she asked coolly. She had not failed to notice the king being generally snappish with everyone in his proximity — and poor Galion was often in Thranduil's proximity.

Galion took a deep breath. "He's a hard-headed elf, but a good one. Just apologize."

"Why do you think I'm the one who needs to apologize?" She spun on Galion, eyes narrowing. Anger was finally rising in her throat. "You're right, he is hard-headed. But he can learn to swallow his pride and approach me."

"He's been good to you, Miriel Dolithien!"

Her lips pursed. "Not nearly to the degree that I have been good to him. If Thranduil wishes to find me himself, he is welcome to. But it is not your business, Galion, nor anyone's but mine and the king's. Now, if you will excuse me."

With that she stepped around the sputtering elf and continued her way toward the river, dearly hoping that the combination of cold water and lavender soap would wash away at least a little of her tension.

….

Tensionnnnnnnnnn is so sweet, isn't it?

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