Part 1: Flee of the Fallen

Chapter 18:The Banquet's Clash

The Hall of Fire buzzed with a symphony of clinking glasses and lively chatter. Rivendell had truly outdone itself, crafting an evening that could rival the wild celebrations of Legolas' homeland, Mirkwood, where elves were renowned for their extravagant parties. Tonight, however, felt different—magical, even.

Legolas, seated with his kin yet close enough to the rest of the Fellowship. Whether it was the anticipation of the unknown quest ahead or the rare occasion of Rivendell's entire population in joyful camaraderie, an electric charge hung in the air.

Everything seemed perfectly normal, until she walked in.

She wore a modest chest-covering woven from a strange fiber, adorned with feathers in earthy tones that complemented her blue skin flawlessly. Intricate beadwork subtly sparkled in the candlelight, and around her neck lay a single necklace of iridescent beads, with a centerpiece pendant carved from a rare, translucent shell. Her presence was both enchanting and mysterious.

"Rae! Come over here! We've saved you a seat!" Merry's voice pierced the lively atmosphere. Rae glanced over her shoulder, tensing as she locked eyes with Legolas.

The seat Merry had saved for her was not far from Legolas'. If not for Faelon, they would have been seated almost directly across from each other.

"Forgive me, but I don't believe I've had the pleasure of making your acquaintance," Faelon, Legolas' second-in-command, leaned in with a warm smile. "May I have the honor of knowing your name, fair lady?"

Rae's hesitation only seemed to encourage Faelon further. "I must know the name of the enchanting being who graces us with her presence. It's not every day one encounters such beauty and mystery."

Legolas gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to kick Faelon under the table.

"If you must know, I'm Ra'evani, but you can call me Rae," she responded, her voice carrying a mix of grace and caution. "May I ask who I have the honor of addressing?"

Faelon's smile widened, delighted by her response. "Ah, fair lady, my name is Faelon. You are truly a beauty among all tonight. Don't you agree, your highness?"

Legolas had no idea how a simple dinner could turn out to be the worst meal of his immortal life.

Of course, the food was exquisite, and the wine, directly shipped from Mirkwood's famous cellars, was impeccable. It was the first time he had seen hobbits eat, and everyone was amazed by the appetite of such child-sized creatures. The four hobbits were always the first to load their plates as heavily as possible, then devoured everything until they had room for another round of food, and then another. Roasted meat, salads, rich cheeses, honey cakes— even the dwarves could not stuff that much into their stomachs.

To his utter annoyance, Faelon wouldn't stop talking with Ra'evani. Despite his royal upbringing, Legolas couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"So, milady, do tell me more about your world. It must be a place of incredible beauty, much like yourself," he heard Faelon ask.

Ra'evani chuckled softly, "Pandora is indeed beautiful, with floating mountains and lush forests. It's unlike anything you've seen here in Middle-earth."

"Floating mountains, you say?" Faelon exclaimed, his eyes widening with genuine interest. "That sounds absolutely magical. And what about you, milady? Do you have any magical abilities?"

Legolas halted, the bread roll on his plate long forgotten.

She shook her head, "No magic, just a deep connection with nature and the creatures of Pandora."

Faelon's eyes sparkled. "That in itself is a kind of magic, wouldn't you agree?"

If not for the musicians who had entered the hall and started playing, Legolas would have shot out of his chair and wiped that smile off his second-in-command's face this instant. Instead, he stood, leaving the dining table with a cup of wine.

"Your highness, you have left half your plate untouched. Shall I report you as unwell to the king?" Faelon peered at him.

Legolas stiffened at the mention of his father. "No, it's not necessary."

He could have sworn Ra'evani snickered. "Daddy issues."

Leaving the dining table early was certainly a mistake, for Legolas found himself bored out of his mind, waiting in the ballroom for what felt like an eternity, sipping on his wine. Hmm, the wine isn't as good as the bottles he used to sneak from his father's personal collection. Not that the king ever realized.

The true torture began when the ballroom flooded with people. He had hoped to sit with Estel, but instead, his friend was now with lovesick Arwen. Legolas couldn't help but notice the pair that had entered the room moments ago—Faelon with Ra'evani on his arm. He bit his tongue. When had his mind started identifying them as a pair?

Faelon's eyes sparkled as Legolas slammed his goblet on the table. "Tell me, milady, have you ever danced under the stars? The Elves have a way of making the night come alive with music and laughter."

"I've danced under the stars many times. The stars in Pandora are breathtaking, much like here in Rivendell,"Ra'evani replied, surveying the couples on the dance floor.

Faelon, that insufferable fool, leaned closer than proper, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Perhaps you'll allow me to show you our way of dancing one night. It would be my honor, milady."

To Legolas'utter delight, Ra'evani refused politely. "Thank you for the offer, but I have promised to dance with Merry and Pippin tonight."

"The next dance then?"

"Sorry, I've promised my entire evening to my friends. This is their last night here, after all."

Soon, Ra'evani and the four hobbits formed a circle. The hobbits'short legs moved quickly, their feet tapping in rhythm with the music, while Ra'evani's long limbs complemented their shorter stature. Legolas watched as Rae threw her head back in laughter, her eyes sparkling with pure delight. The hobbits mirrored her joy, their grins wide and infectious, as more elves joined the dance.

The banquet hall buzzed with life, filled with the elegant laughter and chatter of Elven maidens.

Speaking of which, Legolas suddenly found himself in the center of a group of ellyth. Dressed in the finest silk and adorned with delicate jewels, they fluttered their eyelashes, vying for his attention. Each one could easily win the hand of any lord. All of them were daughters of someone important and skilled in embroidery, art, or music.

How very unique, just like those in Mirkwood.

"Prince Legolas, would you honor me with a dance?"one maiden asked, her voice soft and melodic.

"Prince Legolas, have you seen the new flowers in the garden? They are as beautiful as the stars,"another chimed in, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"Prince Legolas, is it true that you once outshot the best archers of Rivendell in a friendly competition? They say your skills are legendary."

If he were ten years younger, he might have blushed at the attention and perhaps taken a walk with the ellyth in the garden. For now, he maintained his posture, knowing to nod or smile occasionally, though his mind wandered elsewhere.

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Legolas saw Ra'evani striding towards him.

She didn't look at him, instead staring straight ahead, and didn't slow down as she approached. Before he could react, she cut through the crowd, her arm brushing against his shoulder with enough force to make him stagger slightly. She didn't pause to acknowledge him, her stride unbroken as she continued on her way, not offering so much as a glance back or an apology.

The maidens gasped, their eyes widening in shock at the audacity. "How rude!" one whispered.

Legolas' irritation flared before he could stop himself. He caught up with her. "What is the meaning of this?"

She turned to face him, finally meeting his eyes. "Meaning of what?"

"You bumped into me on purpose, and you didn't even apologize," he accused.

"It's not my fault when you and your group of fan-girls are blocking the entire path," the girl shot back.

Legolas felt his anger rising. "That has nothing to do with this. You were incredibly rude."

"Rude? You're one to talk," she retorted. "All those maidens drooling over you, and you just bask in their admiration. How very polite."

"That's not the point!" Legolas snapped. "And you, letting Faelon flirt with you so shamelessly."

"Oh, so that's the whole point. You don't like Faelon? He is twice the man than you'll ever be."

Legolas felt a flush of heat in his cheeks. "You're insufferable! You have no respect for anyone but yourself!"

"And you have no respect for anyone who isn't an elf! You arrogant, pathetic excuse of a living creature think you own everything!" Ra'evani yelled back.

"I do not!"

"Yes you do! You claimed to own that tree in the garden just last week!"

"I claimed no such thing!" Legolas shouted, finally losing his control.

"Ha! And you think you have not captured an innocent being while I am living proof!" she exclaimed.

"You trespassed in our territory and endangered my patrol! You escaped and caused chaos!" Legolas retorted.

"You're just pissed that someone outsmarted that dumb patrol team of yours! And that someone bruised your precious ego!" Ra'evani bared her inhuman sharp teeth, almost like fangs.

"You're reckless and arrogant!" Legolas shouted. "You have no idea what it means to be part of a team!"

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing! You entitled, pompous prince!" she sneered.

Their voices grew louder, drawing the attention of everyone in the banquet hall. Elves and guests alike turned to watch the heated exchange. Never in a million years had anyone started a quarrel in the middle of the Rivendell banquet.

"You slapped me in the garden!" Legolas shouted.

"And you know you damn well deserved it, elf scum!" the girl screeched.

Aragorn stepped in, pulling him back. "That's enough, Legolas."

"She started it!"

"He started it!"

Arwen and the four hobbits hurried to the girl, gently guiding her away from the confrontation. "Rae, let's go," Arwen said softly.

Back in his chamber, Legolas paced the room. Never, in his immortal life, had he lost his temper like today.

Back home, he was always known as the calm one, the perfect prince who could control his emotions just like the last queen of Mirkwood. But today, not even his father had ever lost his temper like that. It had nothing to do with the wine; he used to drink much more.

No, this was all about the girl.

What is it in her that brings out the worst side of Legolas, the side which he never thought was possible?

Perhaps it is a good thing that Gandalf rejected her for the Fellowship. They would certainly have been at each other's throats in less than a second and snapped each other's necks in the next. At least, from what he overheard, she is leaving tomorrow morning for Lothlorien. And the Fellowship will not have to cross the Golden Wood in any case.

However, a small part of him wanted her to stay here longer.

It's just you've never found anyone so suitable for releasing your rage before, he reminded himself. Nothing more.

Nothing more, said the bracelet sitting on his bedside desk.