The Audience

Legolas' warning had left a stale aftertaste inside me. All the way to the halls of the Woodland Realm, I had not only felt a constant prickle on the back of my neck, fearful of being attacked again by a spider, but my thoughts had also turned to what lay ahead. I hardly remembered Thranduil as Tolkien had portrayed him in his works, but what I did remember was his portrayal within the films. I could only hope that the king of the Woodland Realm would not try to pry my secrets from me, for I was sure that I would not be able to protect them from his sharp eyes.

Legolas dropped back to me as we reached a bridge, at the end of which I could see a massive winged gate. It led over a river, the sound of which I had first noticed a few minutes ago. Legolas had been traveling all the way back and forth between the head of the small troop of elves that had accompanied us and Gimli and me. His expression as he did so grew more worried by the hour. "We are almost there," he said in a low voice. "I'll do the talking, but if my father should approach you in any way, do not under any circumstances tell him about the shards. Lie if you have to."

I looked at him, biting my lip. Lie to Thranduil, the king of the wood elves? My heartbeat quickened just thinking about it. Yes, I wasn't a bad liar, but something in me suspected that Thranduil would see through any dishonesty as through clear water. Still, I nodded. "Anything else?"

"He will not be pleased that Gimli is traveling with us, but my father knows that Gimli and I have already made several great journeys together. He will not question his presence, but he will question yours."

"So, how will you explain me being with you?"

Legolas nodded as if he had thought about nothing else all the way. That probably hit the nail on the head. "You joined us because you heard of our travel plans. You are the right hand of the king's sommelier and he has sent you to Esgaroth to select new wines to order afterwards. We know each other from court."

With a raised eyebrow, I looked at him. "That's a pretty thin story."

He lowered his eyes for a moment, but then said, "Try to make it believable. My father has a weakness for good wine - he regularly sends out the sommelier himself to have new wines tested. As long as you stick to the story, we have nothing to fear."

Wonderful. That sounded like a recipe for disaster.

"And Aspen?"

"Yes?"

"Be subtle."

I frowned. Wasn't I usually? But I didn't get to say anything back, because at that moment the gates opened.

My breath caught in my throat. The bridge over the river, with its towering doorways and shimmering grayish blue columns, was already dangerously picturesque, but I could hardly take my eyes off the huge cave complex that now opened up before me. The mixture of nature and craftsmanship was unique and so alien that I would hardly be able to describe it to anyone. Sometimes we walked on paths and bridges carved out of stone, then again on oversized huge branches. While Minas Tirith had seemed different to me, but still somehow familiar, here I felt as if I had not only fallen into the past, but into a fantasy film. Everything about Thranduil's halls screamed to be respected, and the facility was definitely quite different from Aglarond, that was for sure. More elvish. And somehow... grandiose. I licked my lips nervously, while at the same time trying not to let on that I was already intimidated. Considering the fact that this was Legolas' home, I realized once again how different we were. Not only in terms of our standards of living here in Middle Earth, but also when I thought about my world. If I wanted to compare it, he belonged to the Royals and I... well, I was working my back off in an office somewhere in London.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the thoughts aside and tried not to think about the Silmaril shards I had hidden under my skirt. Legolas, who continued to walk beside me, tilted his head to the side as one of his men also dropped back to join us. "Your father wishes to speak to you and your... traveling companions right away, my prince," the elf said, giving Gimli an unenthusiastic look. Me, he ignored completely. Something that reassured me at least a little. As a human with no particular name or origin, I was apparently of no interest. Hopefully, it would stay that way.

"We will find our way alone, no need for you to accompany us," Legolas said, and the elf at his side nodded. Without further ado, they left us alone until it was just the three of us walking along the sweeping branch paths. I cast a quick glance at Legolas, but he looked dead ahead. Everything about his body language seemed as if he would like to be somewhere else. And I knew that was not a good sign. Still, I couldn't help but notice that he had been different since we had met the elves in the forest. Like he was putting on the role of leadership as smoothly as he would a cloak. Another facet of him that I had not known until now.

Some distance away, I noticed what looked like a gnarled tree that had been placed on a pedestal. Upon closer inspection, I realized that this was the throne. And on it sat... "Father."

We stopped a good three meters below the throne. The elf resting on it with his legs casually crossed looked eerily similar to the one standing next to me. Only Legolas' eyes weren't cold. A shiver crept down my spine, and I was glad that both he and Gimli were with me.

The Elf King didn't need to introduce himself, I knew who he was. Thranduil, ruler of the Woodland Realm in the north of the Greenwood. He let his gaze rest on his son for a moment before moving to Gimli. A curling of his lips revealed that Legolas had been right: his father was not fond of a dwarf standing before his throne, even or especially because this dwarf was traveling with his son. But the real question was how he would react to me.

I didn't have to wait long for the answer, because Thranduil's gaze kept wandering until it met mine. Immediately I narrowed my eyes, but I sensed that he was still looking at me. Scrutinizing. As if he knew I was hiding something from him.

Finally, he stood up. "I did not expect you at this time of year, Legolas," he said, coming down the stairs that led to his throne. "And certainly not in company." He emphasized the last word in a way that made me feel like a small, insignificant insect. Involuntarily, I had to swallow.

"We were passing through, heading for Esgaroth and the Iron Mountains."

"You and the dwarf?" asked Thranduil, ignoring Gimli and me as if we were nothing more than thin air. Still, my heart beat so loudly in my throat that I thought he must hear it.

"Gimli, me, and... Aspen." Legolas tried to give his voice an indifferent tone, but even I could hear that it wasn't working. Thranduil immediately took advantage of that. "Aspen?" he asked, this time not addressing his son. "Aspen who?"

He stopped right in front of me. His presence didn't just make me nervous, it made me so uneasy that I almost forgot the story Legolas had made up for me. From further to the left, he just said, "She has traveled with us, but our paths will part in Esgaroth."

"I would like to hear from her herself what has brought her to my halls," Thranduil said in such a velvety voice that I felt sick. This wasn't good, this really wasn't good at all.

I opened my mouth, but my voice cracked. Only on my second attempt did I manage to form a complete sentence, but still without looking at him: "The king's sommelier sent me, Your Highness. I am to... select new wines in Esgaroth and order them for the court. He was unable to come himself because he is troubled by a bad condition. That is why he sent me."

Thranduil let my words hang in the air for a moment before asking the next question, "And what prompted you to join my son and his traveling companion?" I sensed Gimli stiffen beside me, but at the same time chose not to retort anything to the teasing. He knew as well as I did that Thranduil could also decide over Legolas' head to imprison us if it pleased him. Or if he felt that we were a danger to his kingdom. So I cleared my throat a second time and raised my eyes: "King Aragorn knew of your son's plans to travel to the Iron Mountains. He asked him to give me his protection and take me with him so that I shall return before winter."

I managed to withstand Thranduil's gaze, which bored inquiringly into mine. My mouth was as dry as a sheet of paper. There was a bit of half-truth in everything I said. That was the secret of lying: As close to the truth as possible, as far from it as necessary. After a few seconds that seemed like years, he turned away and walked back toward his throne. "Then I assume you don't plan to stay very long."

"That is correct," Legolas replied, and I could hear the relief in his voice. "We will leave today, if you will allow us..."

"No." Thranduil cut his son off as he sat down on his throne with a turn that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else. Except on him. "It is the evening of the Autumn Feast, if you have not yet forgotten," he said, addressing his son. "Preparations are already being made in the hall. You must be exhausted, and the dark creatures that have been roaming the forest again in greater numbers lately are more dangerous in the dark. Stay one night and join us in celebrating the coming winter." He turned his head to me and I had a bad feeling, "Grant me the honor of your presence, Aspen, and tell me more of Elessar's sommelier. As a knowledgeable wine connoisseur, my chambers are sure to reveal a surprise or two to you."

Oh no. My heart sank into my pants, but other than a blink, I didn't let on. "Thank you," I managed. "That's very generous."

A smile played around Thranduil's lips, and I didn't know if he was pleased because I had accepted his invitation or because he would now have the opportunity to question me at his leisure. While I drank and my tongue was loose. I had to swallow again.

"Father, I don't think that..."

"Are you in such a hurry to get to the dwarves that you can't even take a little break in your own home?" the Elf King asked, again sounding like a cat about to pounce. The jab, this time directed at his son, visibly struck Legolas. Therefore, or because he knew there was no point in arguing against his father, he replied, "One night, then we must leave."

"That is all I ask of you." Thranduil nodded to us. "You will be assigned rooms. I wish clean clothes to be brought to them," he said to an elf who had appeared out of nowhere behind his throne. "So that the Autumn Feast may be an unforgettable experience."

Why did I have the feeling that this was a threat?