Disclaimer: I own nothing recognisable.
Open Bar
There was a great celebration that evening in the Hall of Fire, with much music and dancing. The Hall was filled to overflowing, and indeed many merrymakers had retreated under the stars, where the Sindar's skin glowed with unearthly light, echoed by the similarly pearly luminescence of the Noldor elves. But the most interesting thing, to the new graduates, was the open bar.
Legolas, still wearing his new mithril circlet, danced with Aldanna, her own flowery crown giving off a delicate scent in the night air. Under the stars, the young Elves who had come into their own today danced and laughed, and their friends and family joined their revelry.
Tathar elbowed his way through the crowd, three mugs of cider in his hands. A few steps behind was Brethilríl, holding another three mugs, and Brethildíl waved her brother, cousin and friends over to a table she had managed to secure.
The little group was soon gathered around the table, and Legolas discovered that apple and apple cider were a very interesting combination of food and drink, to his friends' amusement.
Thranduil felt trapped in the Hall of Fire. Usually, the merrymaking following the Trials and the Councils was a joyous reunion, with the exception of each time one of his own children came of age.
Long ago, when Aglorarnor passed his Trials, Thranduil had thought that the circumstances were exceptional. The young Prince had been taller than most, stronger and faster as well, and a Prince to boot. Aglorarnor had spent his first night as a true adult drinking with his friends, while his father had fended off the young ladies with a stick.
Then, hundreds of years later, about sixty years after the beginning of the Third Age, Belegalen had come of age. Thranduil had spent the night fending off the young ladies with a sword, as Belegalen had been Crown Prince, a much more alluring title than a mere Prince, as Celeborn had commented. Thranduil had never quite worked out whether the other Lord jested, though he did remember that Celeborn had been rather concerned about separating his daughter from the Lord Elrond at the time.
Then once more, the long-feared day of a child's coming of age had arrived, and Nimloth had been gutsy enough to dress in a floaty dress with flowers in her hair. Thranduil had managed to keep all but one suitor away. Though, he considered, Bragolaglor didn't woo her at the Trials that year. He stole Nimloth's heart long before that.
I dearly hope that little Lothlomë can let me have peace at her Trials. Legolas certainly isn't!
Thranduil's youngest son, though, was his concern today. And this child was no different to the others. While Legolas was off, having fun with his agemates, Thranduil was stuck, trying to extricate himself from the fathers (and some mothers) of young maidens, all asking for Legolas and their daughters to be placed into an arranged marriage.
Thranduil had long ago given up arguing that his children were half Silvan, and as such would follow their hearts to whatever end. Among the Sindar, it was not unheard of to arrange marriages, and among the Noldor it was all but expected. Many worked out, as Elves in general liked each other, but Silvans, before the formation of Greenwood and Lothlorien, had never held a tradition of marriage. Unions were common, and many children were born, and couples would stay together through to the end of the world, but there was no concept of marriage, as Thranduil had discovered at the outset of his relationship with Aldariel.
The Sindarin princes of the Silvans, in both Greenwood and Lothlorien, had introduced the concept of marriage, and it became a common practice for Silvan Elves to marry according to their Sindar comrades, but never for power, position or personal gain. Arranged marriage was not understood by the people, and soon the practice among the Sindar became much less common, still living only, really, in Imladris.
As such, Thranduil found himself with many offers of young ladies to wed his son, and he struggled to achieve the relative safety of the outdoors when he realised what the Eldar gathered around the Hall of Fire wanted. Eventually, Thranduil managed to extricate himself, but he had the distinct impression that there would be a rumour floating around by the morrow that Legolas was already betrothed - the question, really, was which young lady the rumour would involve.
Over in the clearing, Legolas found himself surrounded by young maidens - and even some not so young maidens who might have been twice Legolas' age. Tathar, taking his duty as Bodyguard seriously, never left Legolas' side, and he soon found himself to also be the object of ellyth's misplaced affections. Aldanna, the hero of the celebration, was having her own trouble avoiding the young ellyn.
Legolas and Tathar, chattering away in the Silvan dialect exclusive to Eryn Galen, concocted a plan over their glasses of a classic vintage. The foreign ellyth, who had been sighing at the beauty of the woodland tongue, were taken aback when Legolas suddenly kissed Aldanna, and the pair dashed off through the woods, followed almost immediately by Tathar and Brethildíl. The little group went to the place Lindir had named "Lover's Corner" to catch their breath after the mad dash across Imladris.
A few moments later, four more figures burst through the trees, panting and huffing as if they'd just run a marathon.
Orophin gallantly led Alassë to a bench, and next to him, Ithilran took a seat, breathing hard as he shook his head to clear it.
The young Elves looked at each other then burst into laughter, realising that all of them were now eligible for marriage, and that they were all immaturely running away from the prospect of a match.
"Every single time," they suddenly heard a grumble through the foliage, and then Elrond and Thranduil appeared through the bushes.
Elrond heaved a sigh of relief. "I am glad you all got out of there unattached. It is absolute pandemonium in there," he gestured to the Hall of Fire, and Thranduil agreed.
"You would not believe how many offers you all have," a new voice stated, and Aldariel picked her way into the clearing to stand by her husband. "I managed to convince those silly Noldor that no Silvan can abide an arranged marriage, but unfortunately that doesn't protect all of you," she added.
"I do not consent to marrying anyone," Legolas stated vehemently, to laughter from his friends.
"Then you're glad I didn't agree to an arranged marriage with Lady Eldin?" Thranduil jibed his son, who paled immediately at the thought of the hawk-like elleth.
"Valar, no!" Legolas gasped, and Brethildíl burst into laughter when Lindir assured them that avoiding Lady Eldin was in everyone's best interests.
"Good," Aldariel stated. "It is not always wise to choose your mate so young."
Sensing an opportunity for mirth, Thranduil asked his lovely wife, "So how old were you, exactly, when you convinced me to marry you?"
Tongue in cheek, the lovely Queen responded, "Not old enough! Look where I ended up - fending off masses of young ladies intent on bedding my youngest son!"
Legolas squirmed at the thought. He had travelled with ladies many times, and fought beside them, but he had absolutely no desire to see what lay under their clothing. Soon, the danger of matchmakers was deemed to be over, and most of them headed back in to the party. Legolas, Aldanna, Tathar and Brethildíl, however, stayed to bathe in the starlight.
"I do not imagine you will last two ennyn without giving in to one of those lovely ladies," Aldanna informed Legolas.
"Want to bet?" Legolas asked, turning a wolf-like grin on his childhood friend.
"No!" Brethildíl interrupted, hands on her hips as she stood over her comrades. "I will not let this go any further. Besides, I want to dance, but Tathar won't leave until you do. So get moving!"
Legolas and Aldanna obeyed the irate elleth, hastily following her back to the party. The foursome soon met Brethilríl at the party, where they were roped into a silly game with the others who had graduated this day.
Twelve large mugs were lined up on a table. On one side stood four Elves, including Rílglín and a number of his agemates from Imladris. On the other, facing the monstrous mugs, were today's graduates.
Alassë hesitated at the competition. "Are you sure?" she asked, vaguely remembering her father warning her to not drink too much, or suffer the consequences later.
"You'll be fine!" Rílglín laughed happily, pushing Alassë into her seat.
Legolas doubtfully picked up his mug. It was full of dark red wine, and a whiff of it reached his nose - it was not a fine vintage, like the Esgalduin, or the strong Dorwinion, but rather the dregs of a wine-making operation, infinitely strong, and not very pleasant to smell.
"Rules," Rílglín's companion from Imladris announced, "Drink it all, no stopping. You get another mug when that one is empty. No regurgitation."
Legolas raised his mug, resigning himself to a headache in the morning. Saluting Aldanna and Tathar, who sat either side of him, he raised his mug to his lips when Rílglín yelled, "Go!"
The taste was vile. Legolas gagged on it for a moment, then forced his throat to relax and swallow the thick liquid. He was halfway through the mug when Aldanna passed out, her false wine trickling down the table's leg.
Legolas managed the whole mug, and took the second one Rílglín offered. All of the slighter Elves were already flat on the floor, leaving only Legolas, Tathar and Rumil in the running. One sip was enough for Tathar to overbalance, and Legolas joined his bodyguard not a second later.