Chapter 40

Aduial en Meleth II

Thranduil watched his counselor with eager eyes. It was the night Celairis had been waiting for, and he was kind enough to listen to her wishes. Though he did not enjoy festivities that much now, seeing other elves enjoy the night entertained him. And the dark beauty that was approaching him made the night more interesting. Celairis's dark hair was braided and adorned with little yellow flowers. She wore the lavender dress she received as gift from King Amroth. Her pale skin glistened in the moonlight. She was a beauty, and Thranduil prided himself for having her as a counselor. Perhaps she would not just be a counselor when the night ended.

"You look stunning," the Elvenking said truthfully as he took her hand and kissed it. "I knew staying here for the evening was a good idea."

Celairis laughed good-naturedly. "If I remember, I was the one who persuaded you in staying here."

His smile turned devious as his arm snaked around her waist. "No one can persuade me better than you, counselor mine. Shall we dance? You are quite the dancer back in Greenwood." He held his counselor in place and began to dance with her.

"Flattery does not suit you, my King," Celairis answered as she allowed herself to be gracefully turned around. "For one thing, it should always be your counselors and guards who should flatter you."

"Ah, that is a good idea." He chuckled. "Since you are my counselor, try flattering me instead."

She paused for a while, thinking, and then said: "You look rather handsome tonight, my King." She suppressed a laugh coming.

Thranduil smiled innocently. "Why, yes, I am quite handsome. Thank you for noticing."

Laughter filled the dance floor as they continued to move to and fro. Amroth and Nimrodel were dancing on the other side, and on the other were Galadriel and Celeborn. The music was festive and loud; other Silvan elves cheered and sang into the night. Though a night of celebration, not everyone was celebrating. A group of marchwardens, led by a new golden-haired captain, watched the borders with keen blue eyes. He had heard how an evening of romance turned into a bloody festival when orcs came down from the mountains. And he clutched his bow ever tighter. The story of Erfaron's rescue of Nimrodel was great among the wardens.

Erestor sighed for the umpteenth time. Here he was, seated among Elrond, Celebrían and their children, and Gildor, as the annual event was taking place. Elves, male and female, were ready striding into the wide dance floor to dance. Lindir and his minstrels led the music. Soon, Elrond invited his lady onto the dance floor, and next were followed by Arwen being invited by both of her brothers. It was heartwarming to see such a warm familial display, and Erestor watched them. However, he felt incomplete on that particular night, and he wished he had someone to share a familial dance with.

He knew Erynlith was with Glorfindel. Since when did she even unlatch herself from the elf ever since he arrived, anyway? She made it clear that her concern and care for Glorfindel was something that was friendly, and Erestor wanted to believe her. But the actions they were showing to each other were far from being friendly. Erynlith would always wait for Glorfindel after his daily duty from the barracks. Sometimes, Erestor would find her wiping away the sweat from his forehead, and Glorfindel would lovingly smile at her. There were also times when they would talk together in the gardens. Whatever happened the night when Glorfindel screamed, he did not know. But like the brother that he was, there was doubt in him. What if Erynlith hoped too much again? If Glorfindel found someone else, he could leave Erynlith, just like what a certain Elvenking did.

"Shall we dance, Lord Erestor?" A lovely maiden offered a shy smile.

Erestor quickly complied and took her hand, guiding her towards the occupied dance floor.

Elsewhere, Glorfindel was more than ready to celebrate the evening. He was given elegant robes to wear for that particular night, and he had already clad himself in it. The brocade, though heavy, was red and trimmed with gold. The robe fell about his knees where the dark trousers could already be seen. He wore dark boots and his hair was combed back simply. He did not wish to be so overdressed, especially when it was his first time to celebrate. However, he was still in his room, looking over and over again at his reflection.

"Do I look alright?" He asked himself again. He wanted to look good, of course, but he wanted Erynlith to see him first in that elegant maroon brocade. With a final glance, he breathed sharply and strode out his room.

Where could she be? The question lingered in his mind. Erynlith told him that she would not be in a courtyard right away, and that she would wait for him. But where? Glorfindel was too stubborn to ask for other elves; he really wanted to show himself to Erynlith first.

As he passed the entrance bridge leading to the valley, he stopped short and narrowed his eyes. At a distance, he could see Erynlith sitting on the bridge, her legs dangling on the ledge. She was leaning on her arms and seemed to be watching the stars. He smoothed his brocade before approaching her.

"Eryn," he called out, almost in a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

She looked up to him and smiled. "You look very handsome, Glorfindel. Maroon suits you well, tra-la-la…"

"It was Gildor's idea," Glorfindel answered politely and sat beside her. He noticed the weapons settled on the other side. He gave her a confused look. "I thought we are supposed to celebrate together. What are you doing here with a bow and quiver?"

"Oh, this?" Erynlith glanced at her prepared weapons and shrugged. "Don't mind me. It is probably just a product of experience, nothing else. How about you? Do you want to celebrate?"

"I would if you would go…" Glorfindel reluctantly said.

Erynlith laughed and abandoned her position from the bridge. She took her bow and quiver, and dusted off her trousers. "Let us go then. I am sure nothing much happened. The night is young. More things are surely to come, tra-la." As Glorfindel smiled and followed, she turned to him. "Do you dance? Because I really don't… If you want a dancing partner, you can ask for Celebrían or Arwen. They are Rivendell's best, tra-lo."

"That is fine." He shook his head. "I would rather spend the night sitting on a chair than spend it dancing with someone else, tra-lay."

"Oh, before I forget." She took his hand and dashed with him back to her own bedchambers. "I couldn't appear wearing these. Lord Elrond would scold me, tra-la."

Erynlith immediately went in, while Glorfindel leaned his back against the doorway, his arms across his chest. He heard a light shuffling of fabric, thuds of light footing, and a muttered curse. He fought the urge to look behind and peer at her, afraid he would see something inappropriate.

"Are you okay back there?"

"Don't look, Glorfindel, tra-la." Erynlith finished donning her new dress, and spun in front of the mirror to get a better look. She thought it was so sweet of her cousin to send her a new dress, especially for the celebration. The lavender silk was smooth upon her bare skin; its sleeves flowed past her hands. What made her uncomfortable was the low neckline. If she ever bent down, her chest would surely be exposed. Hiding it with her hair was the simplest solution.

When Glorfindel finally saw her, he was confused for a moment. He had seen Erynlith in dozens of dresses before, mostly in a tunic and breeches and leather boots. Tonight, she looked more like a lady than the minstrel that she was. From the hem of the low neckline to her abdomen, small white pearls were sown. Golden embroidery made little swirls across her bosom. She was truly a beautiful sight to behold—except that her thick umber hair was covering most of her neck and shoulders.

"Oh, Eryn." The tall warrior sighed and approached. He stood behind her and pushed back the hair, much to the minstrel's immediate discomfort.

"Glorfindel, no!" Erynlith recoiled from him and covered her exposed skin with her hair again.

"It doesn't work that way," he argued, his voice ever soft. "Here, let me fix it. You do not have to cover it. You look absolutely beautiful. Now come."

She fervently shook her head. "No, no, no."

Glorfindel left and later returned with a golden ribbon. "At least tie your hair with this. You don't need to hide anything, especially from me."

After a moment of silence and awkward staring, Erynlith finally gave in and turned her back to the grinning warrior. She let him pull her hair into a half-hearted ponytail, with the unbound half falling in loose curls around her shoulders. She straightened herself and faced him with a smile.

"There. Absolutely beautiful," Glorfindel beamed and kissed her forehead.

Thranduil stared at the wine glass thrust into his hands by the Lórinand Elvenking. Amroth was incredibly psyched up that particular eve, calling a drinking game and Thranduil was forced into it. Barrels of wine were delivered and opened at the King's banquet halls, while the other elves were dancing outside. They were the only two drinking there, and Amroth was laughing in his drunken stupor.

"Drink, drink!" He laughed and raised his glass. "More wine for you, Thranduil!"

"I have no time for this." Thranduil groaned, but sipped from his cup nonetheless. "What is this drinking game for? Can you not invite Celeborn instead?"

"Oh, do shut up." Amroth snorted. "When the celebration ends, you will surely return to your palace and will not be seen for another thousand years. Goodness, Thranduil! What even keeps you inside?"

"We have discussed this countless times before." The other King was convinced that his friend was indeed very drunk. Perhaps he should already call on Nimrodel or the other butlers to take their drunken Elvenking away. Quietly, he sipped his wine again. He could never get tired of such exquisite taste.

More wine filled their systems. Amroth kept on urging Thranduil to drink, and drink they did until Thranduil himself felt the lightness of head. He was a well-known heavy drinker in Greenwood, but he seemed to have exceeded his limit tonight. He clutched his head lightly, trying to pull himself together, as another glass was thrust into his hand. He drank it profusely, as if very thirsty, and finished it in one sitting. His fair face flushed red, and his vision began to blur; Amroth's voice was keeping him awake from the stupor. The King of Lórinand laughed heartily and drank his wine as well; the absence of guards and butlers made them drink to their heart's content.

"So!" Amroth barked, his head already swirling from the lightness. "Erynlith… Erynlith… Don't you want to see her? I am sure she thinks of you tonight, Thranduil!" Then, he burst out laughing.

"Does it matter?" Thranduil shook his head, closing his eyes forcefully to regain consciousness. His great aversion on talking about Erynlith was betrayed by the swirling of his head, his mind could not think properly. He propped his chin at the heel of his palm, blue eyes staring lazily at his friend. "Erynlith?" He repeated in confusion, as though not hearing the name for too long. Suddenly, the smug look on his face became somber, and he gradually frowned upon remembering to whom the name belonged to. "Erfaron… oh, I remember. She does not deserve me. I have hurt her too much… We have moved on. I have Celairis, though I will not regret that sometimes… I wish Celairis was Erynlith instead."

Amroth looked at his friend with sleepy eyes. "Do you what I think? I think that you're… only seeing your counselor as the next closest person to Eryn. You always keep her around, but she would never live up to Eryn." He shook his head wistfully. "Never."

"No. Forget it." Thranduil answered, fighting back the stinging pain in his head. He stood up, swaying on his feet as he held on to a nearby pillar. "I will retire to my chambers now."

Without consent from Amroth, he began his way towards the platform's staircase—clutching the railings too tight—to keep himself falling from the deadly height. He almost tumbled on his long silvery robe, teeth gritting in frustration. He shouldn't have allowed Amroth coax him into that pathetic drinking game. He was aware that he smelled of liquor now, and he worried that Celairis would not appreciate it. At the last step of the stairs, he finally succumbed to stupor and fell. But someone caught him, balancing him in the arms as he looked up, blue eyes staring unsteadily at the figure in front of him.

"Eryn…?" He mumbled, the vision coming in a blur.

"No, it's me." A sad voice answered.

"Celairis?" Thranduil asked in disbelief and quickly straightened himself, pretending to dust off his robes. He cleared his throat and met her disappointed look. Like the King that he was, he shrugged it off and walked past her, acting as if nothing happened.

And Celairis's bright eyes followed him, none too pleased that she was mistaken for someone that was supposed to be forgotten long ago.

Glorfindel smiled happily at the dancing elves in the courtyard. Though he was sitting on a chair beside a yawning Erynlith, he enjoyed the festive music and energetic elves. He laughed at the sight of Erestor dancing with several maidens at a time; the counselor was too modest to turn them all down. His eyes feasted on other sights; Elladan and Elrohir were arguing on who should dance with Arwen next. Whenever another elf would ask for Arwen, the brothers would only glare, eventually scaring all the other suitors. Some maidens walked to Glorfindel, shyly asking for a dance, but he politely smiled and turned them down. And when they would leave him, he would glance at his friend, who was still keeping to herself.

"Are you going to stare at me all night? Because it will not work. If you have something to say, say it." Erynlith sighed and yawned, teary eyes looking at the golden elf. Her bow and quiver were stuffed beneath her chair, and on the small round table beside had her untouched plate of vegetables and cup of wine.

He laughed. "I was contemplating whether to ask you for a dance or not, but you seem more interested in watching and yawning."

"That's funny," she retorted, earning another laugh from the golden elf.

Glorfindel paused for a moment. "I am planning to dance, if you'd care to join me, my lady."

Erynlith smiled and took the offered hand. She and Glorfindel joined the dancing elves, and the captain proceeded to put his hands on place. He knew various kinds of dances both in his old life, in the White Shores, and some in Middle-earth that Gildor taught him prior to the evening. One hand coiled around his partner's waist, the other on her hand. He began to move in slow movements, trying to make his partner comfortable.

The warrior laughed openly at her, and she arched an eyebrow in questioning.

"You've never danced before?"

"I sing, Dear Captain, not dance." Erynlith sighed exasperatedly, trying to keep up with his feet. Her long skirts were hindering her movements, and her hands clutched tightly to avoid outbalance. "Could we sit now?"

"Not until later." He smiled. "Come on, you can do it. If I can sleep at night, you can dance." His partner gave him a displeased look. "Here, follow my lead. Step right, and then left… No, I said left! Ow!"

Erynlith stepped on his foot, and Glorfindel's cry was heard by the other elves.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" She quickly apologized, looking down at his stepped foot.

"All is well," he assured and took her hands again. "Now, let us start again. Follow my footsteps. It is just an alternate between right and left." He laughed as his partner looked down on their feet. He lifted her chin with one finger, a gentle demand to look into his eyes. "In dancing," he began his lesson again, "partners should look at each other."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, I got it."

And soon, they were dancing. She had come to get used to his slow rhythm, eyes locked against each other. Glorfindel twirled her according to the flow of the music. When Erynlith's eyes caught glimpse of Erestor, she began beaming at him.

"Erestor, look! I am dancing!"

Her brother laughed heartily as he danced with another maiden. "Congratulations, Eryn."

Across the courtyard, Lindir settled the golden harp on his lap and whispered something to his fellow minstrels. Some of the maidens giggled, as the young dark-haired minstrel only winked and proceeded to lead the group. It was a slow ballad, a romantic theme Lindir had been preparing for tonight's event.

Glorfindel was enjoying the pleasant melody. Looking down at his partner, he saw her eyes immensely focused on his chest, as her feet were still trying to catch up. Acting on impulse, Glorfindel's finger went down to her chin, slowly making her look at his eyes. Erynlith smiled softly at him. It made him feel something else—like something burning from within.

Eyes still locked, Glorfindel began to pull her closer. His forehead touched hers, his hand made its way at the back of her nape, his nose brushing against hers. He trembled at the close proximity, but when he looked at her, Erynlith showed no hint of disapproval. Encouraged now, Glorfindel leaned dangerously closer.

It was Erestor who noticed what was happening, not Erynlith herself.

Nodding at his current partner, the Chief Counselor excused himself and strode across the dance floor. In five quick strides, he was beside the pair, just before the golden-haired warrior could continue with his advances. Erestor tried to keep his calm, for his sister's sake.

"Hold it." Erestor feigned a smile to the warrior, who seemed awakened from his trance. He turned to Erynlith and said, "I think Lady Celebrían has something to tell you, Eryn. She absolutely loves your dress."

Erynlith looked down on her lavender dress and smiled at her brother. "Oh, of course! I shall tell her that Amroth gave it to me, tra-la."

"You should. Go ahead and tell her." Erestor was pleased to see her sprint off to the other direction, leaving him and the stunned warrior alone. As he looked beside him, he could see Glorfindel was still in daze. And so, he asked: "What was that back there?"

Glorfindel flinched, as though he did not notice Erestor's presence. "Dancing," he whispered carefully.

"Besides the all the dancing and the staring, Lord Seneschal?"

"Staring?"

"Ignorance does not appeal to you," Erestor whispered back, as his eyes watched Erynlith mingle with the other elves. "I have seen the way you look at her."

"Are there other ways to look at her?" Glorfindel knew sarcasm would not work on the Chief Counselor.

Erestor narrowed his eyes and glared. Then, for a moment, he remembered what he promised before. He sighed. "Forgive me about what happened last night, when I assaulted you in your chambers. It was truly uncourteous of me, and I am asking for your forgiveness."

Glorfindel was taken aback. "There is nothing to forgive, Lord Counselor. I think I understand now."

"Good." Erestor smiled mischievously, and began to walk away. Suddenly, he paused and turned back to the warrior. "Oh, and one more thing, Lord Seneschal, staring is quite rude. If you plan to make a move, then do so. You can't cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water." And he left.

Later, everyone took turns in dancing one another. After Glorfindel, Erynlith was offered by both Elladan and Elrohir, who continued to brawl on who should dance with her first. After the brothers, Elrond had taken the dance floor with her, two old friends laughing as they danced; and the last dance for this year's Aduial en Meleth was Erestor. She continued beaming on how she could dance now, grateful for Glorfindel's little guidance.

As for the golden lord, he was the only one allowed to dance Arwen, and he was careful on touching her. It was evident that her father and brothers adored her too much. And he had also danced with the other maidens who gathered their courage to ask him; one of them introduced herself as Firianath. His last dance was Lady Celebrían; her rich silver hair mingled with his golden locks.

Everything was well that night. No orc ambushes. No snatched elven-maiden in the middle of the night. And certainly no chasing of orc companies through the fields.

Whereas Rivendell was filled with laughter, there was an Elvenking who decided to brood for the rest of the evening.

"You can't cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water." - Rabindranath Tagore

Author's Notes: YES! We finally have this one up! Firstly, I would like to apologize for the lack of humour, as was requested before. I was really busy this week (and would probably more busy in the next), so I didn't get the chance to edit the draft and add more funny scenes. Well, it did kind of show a little Eryn/Glorfy, for those who are already shipping them. Secondly, sorry for writing Thrandy being in his volatile mood as usual. You never know when his temper would burst. Lastly, I would not be able to update next week, being busy and all, so I hope this chapter's little fluff makes up for it! Also, brother of the year award for Erestor!

*only-one-mirkwood-princess - Ooh, from Spain to Argentina, with love! Sadly, I am not a 100% good in Spanish. My mother and I just moved here over a year ago. I could understand (and speak and write) some basics. And I am only teaching myself, so it could be difficult sometimes.

LOL. Yay for Eryn/Glorfy, I see. Too bad for Celairis though!

*Rosiethehobbit17 - I am so glad you love Tourism! And that you are interested in Spain! If you'd like to make a paper about it, you could include its wonderful beaches and weather; and if you like history (like me), I suggest you make special mention of the historical architecture (palaces, churches, etc.) Studying tourism is the best! Though I've never heard of Robert Mugabe, I think a leader should put first what is good for the country, not for himself.

Yep, gotta love protective big brothers! I hope I have one!

*StrawberryObsession - Some of your comments are coming true! How do you do that?! Yes, Celairis is designed to be the politically savvy counselor, confident both in terms of beauty and brains, but a mention of Eryn takes it all away. As for Glorfindel, I think he needs to take a step back, unless he wants Erestor to come in between them again. Did the Eryn/Glorfy fluff jeopardize your Eryn/Thrandy ship? I am so sorry! At this point, I can't tell which ship is stronger and should sail.

For your question, I think most of the elves around them have forgotten all about the Eryn/Thrandy relationship. It has been a thousand years without seeing each other; only Erestor, Amroth and Celairis probably remember it. We know Amroth still ships both of them, but Erestor and Celairis? Not likely.

Thank you for another awesome review!

*DeLacus - Big brother Erestor for the win! His protectiveness is a force never to be dealt with! XD Speaking of Raithon, I do miss our favourite Captain of the Guards. Perhaps I'll have him included in the next chapters~!

*Asmodeus Black - The thought of Glorfy appreciating a pat on the head looks adorable! If he keeps his mind off of those dreams, he'll probably forget it. Thanks for the review! *gives you a cookie*

*May East - Because you ship Eryn/Glorfy harder now, this chapter is for you~! Don't worry, your heartbreak won't come any sooner. And I guess you're few of the people who does not hate Celairis now. XD

*Eirithdiel - Thranduil the playboy of Middle-earth! *nosebleeds* (￣Γ￣) It made me fangirl all over again. Now I have to drive these thoughts of Thranduil posing in a magazine away! Glad you like the Eryn/Glorfy ship, too! Thanks for stopping by!

*Rousdower - ROUSYY! ROUUSSYYY! Thanks for the review! Our baby Glorfindel feels better now I believe!

P.S. I thoroughly thank everyone who reads, reviews, favourites, and follows this story! I absolutely enjoy writing it, so it makes me feel all happy to know that many of you like it! The number of views and reviews have been overwhelming. Thank you!

Also, the new cover image does not belong to me. Credits all go to the wonderful artist!