Chapter 13

Aduial en Meleth

Everyone watched in surprise as the white horse halted in front of the King's fortress; its exhausted rider sliding off the leather saddle. His blue eyes scanned the fair forest, and all he could see were curious Nandor and Silvan elves. He knew none of these elves, but he knew they were familiar of him, or at least heard of him. He did not really visit Lórinand that much; his last time there was when the lands were attacked, and Oropher had to come to their aid. Slowly, his breathing calmed and his heart did not hammer in his chest anymore. He had regained his composure that was lost when he found out that his friends were gone from the Greenwood.

"Thranduil," someone whispered from behind him.

As he turned, the Prince of Lórinand gently pushed his way out of the encircling crowd around him. Amroth looked as confused as his people, and he could muster a word to express his surprise. Behind Amroth, Thranduil noticed an elf-maiden trailing him; her golden tresses were pulled back into a long braid over her right shoulder. Her dress was white and gleaming in the early afternoon light.

"Prince Amroth," Thranduil acknowledged the other elf prince.

"What brings you here, my friend?" Amroth asked cordially, not wanting to sound by any means rude. "Did you know that we have returned here?"

Thranduil shook his head in dismay. Once again, the elf-maiden behind Amroth caught his eyes. She was clinging onto Amroth's right arm, her head peering over his shoulder. For some reason, Thranduil knew she was afraid; the fear in her bright eyes was evident. "That was the problem," he answered Amroth. "No one told me that you and your company left Greenwood. I felt like a fool for not knowing for days." And no one makes me feel like a fool, he mentally added.

"Please, forgive us," Amroth said. "It was not really our intention to leave in secrecy. It just so happens that the King is impatient to return here." He motioned for one marchwarden to come. In an incoherent whisper, the marchwarden took the reins of Thranduil's horse and led the creature away. "Follow me. You must be tired. I will take you to a chamber where you can rest. You have come in a great timing because Aduial en Meleth is tonight. And with you around, Erynlith will not be bored anymore."

With Nimrodel still eyeing him with curiosity, Thranduil smirked and followed Amroth. "That's the point," he said.

Erestor crossed his arms and pursed his lips. It was already afternoon, lunch would be served soon, but he wanted to rest for now. His injuries were now fully-healed but the pain lingered still on the damaged parts. He thought the atmosphere in Lórinand made him feel better. Even though he regarded himself as fully-healed, he still wanted to get some rest before luncheon. But he could not get on his bed, not when someone was already occupying it. He tried shaking her awake, that young strange elf he had known for years, but she would only mumble and roll on his bed.

He sighed in defeat and sat on the edge, peering over her shoulder and tucking a lock of her hair behind the ear. He leaned down and whispered in his most soothing voice. "Wake up, little one. Lunch is going to be served soon and no one will wait for you. Get up and let me get my rest, tra-la-lo."

Erynlith pulled the cover over her head. "Five minutes," she answered groggily.

"That won't do," Erestor said, sighing deeply. He pulled the blanket off her face. "Get up and fix yourself. It's too early for you to sleep. You don't plan on sleeping until the Aduial en Meleth ends, do you?"

She opened one eye and peeked at him. "I do plan on sleeping until tomorrow. Wake me up when something interesting happens."

Erestor leaned his back against the bed post and crossed his arms. "Interesting like what? A dragon coming out of the sky?"

"Maybe, tra-la…" Erynlith answered in a singsong and pulled the covers again. "Leave me alone and save some food for me, okay?"

"That won't do." Erestor got up and snatched the blanket away from her again. He started folding it, and then dropped it on the pillow beside her. She did not budge and pretended to sleep further. Arching an eyebrow, he flopped on the bed next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. He heard the younger elf laugh and Erynlith elbowed him on the chest, gently so that she may not hurt him. Erestor laughed as well and removed his arm. In that silence, he felt himself dozing off; his eyelids becoming heavier by the second. And as he felt himself drifting off to reverie, the Erynlith beside him jerked up and rolled from the bed, pushing him off.

Erestor fell on the wooden floor with a loud thud, and he heard Erynlith gasp on top of the bed. "Oh, are you alright? I am so sorry!"

"You have a knack on hurting me, haven't you?" Erestor grumbled and sat up. "I think my thigh injury is opened again…" He faked a long moan, and he even closed his eyes for an additional effect. As expected, Erynlith quickly got off the bed and sprinted outside the room, calling for the nearest healer.

"Stay here, brother! I'll be right back!" She exclaimed and exited the room, forgetting to put on her light shoes in her panic.

When he was left on his own, Erestor chuckled amusedly and flopped on his bed, finally sighing at his dubious victory.

Meanwhile, Erynlith was staggering in search for a healer; her feet began to hurt for not wearing any shoes at all. She accidentally plunged herself into the crowd and pushed the elves in front of her. She muttered her sorry as the Nandor glared at her, whispering in their unfamiliar Silvan dialect. She felt extremely apologetic for pushing them but she had to find a healer, and fast. After apologizing in Sindarin, which she hoped the Nandor knew, she turned her heels towards the silver fortress of King Amdír. But as she turned around swiftly, she bumped her face onto a hard surface and fell down on the ground. She closed her eyes and moaned, soothing her aching nose.

"Ow," she mumbled. "Watch where you're going, tra-la-lay."

"That also applies to you, little one, tra-lil-lay…"

Erynlith shot her eyes open and looked at the elf. That arrogant smirk was so familiar that in hurt more than her nose. Thranduil chuckled and offered her a hand, which was slapped away. Erynlith stood up on her own, still glaring and trying to forget the pain in her nose.

"What are you doing here? How did you even—?" She could not find the words to describe what was happening.

"I thought I'd visit for a while," answered Thranduil. "Prince Amroth has already showed my chambers. I'll be here in the next few weeks, I suppose, considering that I have done my reports. King Amdír also knows that I am here. I am looking for a great Aduial en Meleth this year. I haven't tried celebrating it here in Lórinand. You ought to make it interesting for me, little one." His smirk widened.

Erynlith tried not to be impressed with his formal speaking and eloquence. His regal demeanor added into this. "Right…" was all she could mutter.

Thranduil chuckled. It was amusing to see people speechless in front of him. He began scanning her appearance. He could tell from her messy umber hair that she had just got out of bed; that cowlick on her forehead was unmistakable. And her pale blue dress was wrinkled from excessive rolls. As his eyes wandered lower, his brow arched at the sight of her bare feet beneath the hem of her skirt. Her toes curled around the dirt.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" he asked, shifting the conversation elsewhere.

She flinched and ran past him. "Oh, that's right! I have to go! I'll see you tonight. No wait, I will not! Bye!"

He laughed and watched her leave. Maybe it was indeed a good idea to come after them.

The second the Sun went down and disappeared into the mountains, the elves of Lórinand emptied their comely houses and went forth to the King's courtyard for the annual celebration of Aduial en Meleth. It was an event that the Sindarin elves brought from their previous lands, and both Nandor and Silvan adopted it as they took these Sindar as their lords. The event was dedicated to elves who loved each other, an event full of affections for other elves. An evening of romance it was called in the common language, and it took place before the first fall of snow. Almost all elves in Lórinand and Greenwood looked forward on celebrating it, but separate celebrations were held between the two forests.

Thranduil stood in one corner, hands behind his back, as he thoughtfully watched the elves gather in the white courtyard. The place was illuminated by lamps that hung on the white pillars, emitting an azure light. On the other side of the courtyard was a long table filled with different kinds of food and drinks, ranging from Elvish cakes, fruits, and breads, to the King's exquisite wine. Thranduil's mouth watered just thinking about the drink. But he continued to observe; the elf-maidens were dressed in their best clothes, hair braided so elegantly and crowns of colorful flowers were upon their head. The males were in their brocades and breeches, with their dark hair also braided back. The marchwardens of Lórinand were there to participate, temporarily abandoning their outpost for this important event.

Sounds of cheering and claps caught Thranduil's attention back. In front of the crowd of elves, he could see King Amdír and Prince Amroth descending the staircase of their fortress. The father and son looked so much alike, with their matching silver robes and dark boots. The golden hair glinted with the light, and their grey eyes scanned the yard.

And Thranduil waited for Erynlith to descend, anticipating that she was only late, but eventually, she did not come. He looked around but she was not there. His eyes fell upon Nimrodel who was approached by Amroth and kissed on the cheek. It was indeed an evening of romance.

"Is everything alright, my lord?" a marchwarden approached Thranduil.

"Yes, I am well," he answered and the warden went off.

Now, Thranduil felt out of place, without anyone to talk to. The King was immersed in a conversation with his counselors, even at this kind of event, and a wine cup was in his hand. Amroth was occupied by Nimrodel in one corner, and soon, all elves around him were enthralled in the event. He shrugged and approached the table, resolved to get himself a drink. One elf-maiden served him his wine, a thoughtful Silvan with a bright smile, and he felt obliged to smile back.

"This is your first time here, my lord?" the Silvan elf asked, but Thranduil did not ask her name.

He nodded and drank from his cup. The sweet taste of the liquor was very soothing to him. "My first time to celebrate here, actually," he said. He noticed how the Silvan maiden was not mingling with the other elves. "Are you not going to join them?"

"I don't have someone to celebrate the night with." She gave him a modest smile.

"The evening doesn't necessarily need to be celebrated by lovers," he said. "Love is not a feeling. It is a decision in which two people decide if they should be together or not." He left his explanation at that and drank his wine again.

The maiden nodded in understanding.

Meanwhile, back in Erestor's chambers, the dark-haired counselor-and-captain was ready to leave. He was already prepared to celebrate the night. His robes were of dark blue, lined with golden trimming and ornate filigree on the trousers. His hair was neatly combed back, adorned with a silver leaf incrustation given to him by Celebrían. Basically, he was more than ready to leave his chambers, but the younger elf who sat cross-legged on his bed was dauntless.

"You need to go outside and get some fresh air," Erestor coaxed Erynlith on leaving. Apparently, after she had returned with a healer, she found Erestor lying on his back, already asleep. She figured he lied to her about the pain, and dishonesty ticked her off.

"I think you're big enough to handle yourself out there, tra-lo," Erynlith sang. "Besides, I don't have anything to do outside so I might as well stay here. Tell Amroth I said hi, tra-la-la…"

"Eryn, for the umpteenth time, you are coming down with me whether you like it or not." He pulled her out of the bed and dragged her outside, not caring anymore if she screamed in protest and flailed her arms around like a child throwing a fit. Eventually, the two reached the courtyard and it was only then when Erestor released her. He earned a glare from the younger elf but he shrugged it off. "Run along and have fun now…"

Erynlith huffed and walked away, her arms crossed. The elves that gathered there greeted her enthusiastically, appreciating that their lady had gone from her room to celebrate with them. And with the smiles all around her, she couldn't help but smile back. Her annoyance to Erestor suddenly dissipated. Not long after, she was among the celebrating elves. A harp was thrust on her hands by one of the drunken counselors, and persuaded her to sing a song for them. She did, and her voice reached the whole courtyard.

Thranduil looked up from his third cup, registering the familiar voice that he heard. He realized that everyone was silent in the courtyard; their eyes focused on one corner. Even his Silvan companion was absorbed in that, and he just had to turn around. As far as his eyes could see, there was Erynlith with a flock of minstrels around her, singing a song a counselor had suggested. Erestor was standing next to her, clearly singing the same song under his breath. Slowly, Thranduil got up from his seat on the table and approached them. When he arrived, the song was finished and the elves resumed their merry-making and dancing.

"That was… captivating," Thranduil said and walked towards her.

Erynlith smiled and returned the harp to its rightful owner. "Nah, the others delivered the song pretty well. I was merely supporting them, tra-la," she said. "Having fun yet?"

He chuckled. "Not much. No one seems to even notice me."

"Too bad," she shrugged. "Well, I must return to my chambers. Erestor was being silly for pulling me into this celebration. Good night, tra-lo." She was about to leave when the King Amdír came out of nowhere and snaked an arm around her shoulders. He pulled her back in front of Thranduil, as her eyes widening in surprise.

"Lórinand is well-known for its hospitality," King Amdír began impishly. "Wouldn't you agree, Prince Thranduil? Guests must be entertained and attended well, especially by a member of the King's court. Now, dear Erynlith, wouldn't you keep our significant guest some company? It would do me great honor if you do."

She sighed in defeat. "And I can't decline, Your Highness?"

King Amdír laughed good-naturedly. "I'm afraid you can't. Now, do as I say and enjoy the celebration. The night is still young. Many things are yet to occur." With that, he kissed Erynlith's hair and went off to his own business.

"You heard the King," Thranduil crooned. "It's about time Lórinand's hospitality is appreciated by the Prince of Greenwood the Great, tra-la."

Erynlith wanted to whine and get back on her bed. Well, it was actually Erestor's bed, but no one would matter now. She was stuck to entertain a guest who was not even invited in the first place. "What do you intend to do anyway? The table is set if you want to eat," she offered and hoped that he would accept it.

Thranduil looked at her mischievously. "What about a dance? You do know how to dance, right?"

"Tried it once. Didn't like it."

"A niece of a King should at least know how to dance," he breathed incredulously. "Are you sure you're related to King Amdír? Or maybe you are somehow adopted and Erestor is forced to watch over you, and—"

Erynlith had already stomped away in anger. Thranduil reached out for her wrist and held her firmly on her waist, already waltzing their way through the dancing crowd. Erynlith blanched and tried to pull away gently as to make it seem rude to the other elves. But the hand on her waist was persistent and the elf prince in front of her was smirking. She glared and tried to pull away again.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Thranduil whispered in her ear.

Erynlith was about to snap something at him but her eyes caught King Amdír. He was watching them intently. He wanted to make sure his niece complied with his orders. And Erynlith paled more when the King nodded at her; he was far too demanding that she had known. She bit her lip and tore her gaze from the King, her feet following the slow rhythm of Thranduil's. She kept her head hung low, not wanting to meet that piercing blue eyes hovering above her.

"This is all you fault," she muttered. "I told you I don't dance. You didn't have to literally sweep me off my feet."

Thranduil chuckled. "Don't think I did what I did because I have a… what do people call it… a crush… on you," he said nonchalantly, still looking down at her. "Maidens usually jump into those conclusions. And about being related to the King… I only wanted to see you cry. But I wish you could forgive me, little one."

Finally, she looked up at him. "Good because I don't jump into conclusion. If you wanted to see me cry, you should have told me sad song instead. That might work, tra-la-lay."

"No," he answered sternly. "I like to challenge myself on that one."

"You find this incredibly amusing, don't you?" Erynlith narrowed her eyes at him. Just then, Thranduil twirled her around in time with the other dancing elves.

"Yes. It is very good for you… and very amusing for me." Thranduil led her further into the middle of the dance floor. His partner blinked her eyes from the sudden bright light from the lamps. Again, he twirled her and caught her waist. He felt Erynlith weakening by the second, and his brow arched in questioning. "Are you alright?"

She panted softly. "I'm good, really good."

"Do you want to sit down?" Thranduil offered worriedly. It would be troubled if he pushed her beyond the limit. But Erynlith only shook her head, her grip on his hand and shoulder tightening. Reluctantly, he nodded and slowed his pace even more, making sure his novice of a partner could catch up with him. He placed his chin above her head; he was about a head taller than she was. "You really are a tenderfoot, aren't you?"

Erynlith smiled. "I don't dance remember. It makes my feet numb, tra-la-lo."

When the music faded, Thranduil immediately settled Erynlith on a bench and offered her water. Well, he initially offered her wine but she refused. They sat on the bench, and the elf prince waited patiently until his partner relaxed. The goblet was set aside, but they did not return to the courtyard right away.

"Why did you come?" She tilted her head curiously.

Thranduil blinked at her. "Well, I was not informed that you left Greenwood. I felt rather irritated by that."

But it was not all. He was too exhausted by the time he learned of their departure. His exhaustion turned into annoyance, and then turned into recklessness. By the time he realized he was traveling to Lórinand, he knew it was his pride that drove him further. He was already halfway in reaching Lórinand, and he could not return to Greenwood empty-handed. His father would think of him as ridiculous for acting on impulse, and it happened too fast. Thranduil would never swallow his pride.

"But you're missing Aduial en Meleth in Greenwood," Erynlith said. She imagined what it would be like in celebrating in Greenwood, with all the Silvan folk. She tried to imagine what kinds of songs would be sung by the minstrels, the foods served on the tables, and many more. "I think I'd like to spend the night in Greenwood instead."

He smiled. "Then, you can celebrate it with me next year, little one."

Next Chapter: No romantic celebration goes unscathed without a little late night trouble with the enemies.

Author's Notes: Ha, another late update. I am so sorry! After a long time of waiting, here's Thranduil dropping the bass in the party, using his sass to dance. Even I don't know if Erynlith is impressed or what. Anyway, thank you for reading the chapter and stay tuned for the next one. I'll try me best to update as soon as possible. Reviews are always appreciated! Thank you again! :)

*DeLacus - Hooray for the references! Yes, I do like to think that Thranduil knew the sexy, awesome, and greatest-archer-that-ever-lived Beleg when he was young, since both lived in Doriath. Imagine cutie little Legolas getting pumped up about hearing Beleg's awesomeness from his ada. (º﹃º) *drooling*

Another hooray for Raithon! *throws confetti* Sassy captain for the sassy Prince of Greenwood!

*Rousdower - Erynlith and Nimrodel in a catfight would look good. LOL. I can already see Amroth moping about it afterwards. XD

*xSiriuslyPadfoot - Good to see you back here! Yes, I will start on the Haldir/Oc sooner or later. I already have the plot and characterizations in mind, but I am yet to start on the first draft. LOL. Thanks for the review!

*Oriana5 - I'm glad you enjoy the story! I hope you stay with me in this story. :D And thank you for stopping by!