Thranduil looked down upon the councillors of his realm from on high. He was up in the balcony that overlooked the palace's central outdoor atrium and sipped casually and appreciatively at a glass of Second Age Dorwinion.
Below, harried looking councillors gave lofty speeches, shook hands, patted the heads of elflings and smiled until their faces looked fit to burst. For it was the penultimate day prior to the kingdom wide elections that would decide the make-up of his next council. Would be representatives from all the villages were here, toiling away in in hope of securing some last minute votes in the elections that were held every two centuries.
Thranduil let a small smirk cross his face at the sight of some of the more annoying councillors working so hard to come across as approachable and in touch with the people they sought to represent, when he knew from the bitter experience of working with them they were anything but.
"Presiding over proceedings Aran-nin?"
Thranduil turned to look at his butler and confidante. "Hardly presiding Galion – more idle observation. Watching a councillor outside of their normal role of irritating me and instead attempting to appeal to the people is massively entertaining. Why don't you grab yourself a glass and keep me company."
"If you insist Aran-nin."
"I do. This is all the more fun when observed with a friend." And with that Thranduil strode over to the small table on the balcony and poured Galion a glass which he then thrust at the butler. "Drink."
"O-of course Aran-nin." Galion stammered at the surprise of his King serving him but took a sip as directed and smiled at the smoothness of the aged wine. "Le fael."
"Hn." Thranduil waved away the thanks with a grunt before his eyes caught upon something and he gave a wicked grin. "Now look just there – do you see Corundîs? See how she is all smarm and air kisses now with the gentry? The very gentry she argued long and hard should have their taxes tripled." The blonde rolled his eyes. "Honestly! And now look at Gaudron, looking like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth when he is possessed of a temper that puts a dragons to shame."
Thranduil went on like this for a while – pointing out to Galion the foibles of the more troublesome and trying councillors.
"It seems," Galion mused as he topped up their glasses with the smooth, rich wine, "that councillors are a great deal more pleasant to deal with and be around during election time."
Thranduil accepted his refilled glass and gave his butler a sharp grin. "And now you begin to understand how the tedious game of politics works mellon."
END.
A/N: Just a little something that hit me after the recent local elections here in England. Written whilst a tad bored at work. Drop me a one liner and let me know what you think – KimicT
Aran-nin - My King
Le fael – Literally: You are generous – Sindarin version of this was you
Mellon - Friend