Elrohir meets the family, and passes the first test.

I wasn't going to write this scene but so many reviewers wanted more Galion so I have just added a special Galion-centric chapter here.

Notes

Meleth- this is the gender neutral word the silvan Woodelves use to a wedded partner although they also use husband or wife.

Tindómion- one of Spiced Wine's wonderful OCs she has let me inhabit my world. He is the son of Maglor, estranged in this timeline and 'verse, for now at least. He features in Through a Glass, and More Dangerous. If you haven't discovered Spiced Wine's world, you have a wonderful treat in store. The skirmishes in Fornost are mentioned in Seven Stars.

Fornost is an old centre of Arthedain, the ancient kingdom of Arnor and Aragorn is going to have to re-establish centres of power in the North if he is to reunite the Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor.

SPOILER ALERT: There is a bit of a spoiler in this for Seven Stars and Seven Stones, but you absolutely do not have to read that in order to follow or enjoy this.

Chapter 3: Galion

Thranduil was both nothing like Elrohir expected, and yet exactly as described by Elrond, and by Bilbo and by Legolas himself and it did not seem to matter that these descriptions were all contradictory for in Thranduil, contradictions seemed as natural as air.

He was very tall, taller than Legolas who was a hand taller than Elrohir, straight-backed and wiry, emanating a sense of physical strength as well as mental power. His hair was the colour of gold coins, as Bilbo had said, and his eyes were slate-green, as Elrond had said, and his gaze was heavy. Much like Galadriel's. When Elrohir first saw him, Thranduil was poised upon a high set throne of blasted oak carved into antlers that loomed over him and he seemed alien and utterly strange; more stag than man, more of the Wood.

Like one of the Ainur, one of Oromë's followers, Elrohir thought.

And Legolas' brothers were no less impressive. Growing up in the Hidden Valley, protected by the Ring of Power, as a child Elrohir had longed for adventure and daring. He had lapped up the scant stories that came with the few travellers from the East, of the valiant Elves of Mirkwood led by their King and his sons, Laersul and Thalos in their lonely stand against the Shadow of Dol Guldur. Of course, Legolas had not figured in those stories for Elrohir was already on his own adventures by the time Legolas was born.

Laersul was everything Elrohir had imagined and more; tall, serious but kindly, broad shouldered and with a steady certainty that filled one with confidence that there was nothing that could defeat Laersul. He would never leave anyone behind. He would always prevail. Elrohir liked him immediately, could see himself following Laersul into battle.

Thalos was different; his hair as dark as a Noldo, and his green eyes flickered like a shoal of quick fish, alighting and then darting away as if he thought too quickly for Elrohir to possibly keep up. Like the glitter of swords he had been described over and over, and Elrohir could see why. His reputation had grown since he had come to the aid of Erebor in the War of the Ring, and the injuries he had taken in that battle were evident; in the scars still there on his handsome face, like burns but from no ordinary fire, and he carried himself a little oddly as if he nursed a greater injury beyond the physical. Legolas had been so reluctant to speak of his brother than Elrohir had been puzzled, but now he could see why. This could not easily be explained and it felt too great an intrusion to speak of.

But if he was over-awed initially, their warmth dispelled it for Laersul kindly drew him into the family embrace and Thalos had greeted him with a slap on the back.

'Welcome brother,' he said with a mischievous grin that made the scars dim to almost invisibility. 'You have joined the notorious family Thranduillion and so you must take your punishment like a true silvan and learn to eat spider legs and goblin stew. But I have heard you wear a Warg cloak and so you should fit right in.'

'Indeed, Bilbo has told me that spider is a rare delicacy and has given me a special mallet to crack open the carapace. He says it tastes like chicken.'

There was a delighted laugh and a burst of silvan dialect, too loud and too swift for Elrohir to follow every word but Legolas' pleased smile told him he had hit the right note. And then Thranduil had led them into the family dining room, pulling out a chair at his right and indicating to Elrohir that he should sit there.

Laersul swiftly took the other chair beside Elrohir and Thalos whipped into the chair opposite Elrohir, leaving Legolas with no choice but to sit between Thalos himself and Thranduil. But Galion hauled the only chair left at the end of the table and squeezed in between Thranduil and Elrohir's chairs with no respect or by your leave at all, and when Thranduil protested mildly at Galion's manners, Galion simply flapped a hand at him and told him to stop being boorish.

'Boorish?' Thranduil protested mildly. 'I have been called many things, most of them by you, Galion, but never boorish.'

Galion said something quickly that Elrohir did not understand and Thranduil ignored but Thalos snorted and Legolas smothered a rather impressed gasp. Bit Galion had reached for a decanter of exquisite crystal set beside Thranduil . The stopper clinked as he pulled it out carelessly and he slopped wine first in his own glass and then into Elrohir's. 'Don't drink too much, Thran,' he said then warningly. 'You know it makes you a miserable bastard.'

'You must excuse Galion, Elrohir,' said Thranduil imperiously but not really at all apologetic. 'He is the child of goblins who abandoned him in a bramble bush hoping someone stupid would stumble across him and mistake him for an Elf because even the goblins couldn't bear him. Unfortunately my father Oropher, was very tender-hearted and had suffered a blow on the head from a troll that same day and he lost all sense and brought the goblin foundling home with him. He has been here annoying everyone ever since.'

'The troll's head is now in the armoury,' added Thalos. 'I always think it looks surprised to find itself there.'

'Your grandfather had a very hard head,' said Thranduil.

'The King,' corrected Galion with a look of reverence and devotion, and Elrohir realised that to Galion, the King would always be Oropher. Thranduil seemed completely unfazed and unoffended

'The King indeed,' murmured Thranduil, looking down and he raised his glass suddenly in a toast so perhaps Oropher was always the King to his son too.

Legolas had told Elrohir very little of his family in fact, but when he had spoken of Galion it was in such warm and affectionate tones that Elrohir did not quite know what to think of this overfamiliar and disrespectful tone Galion adopted towards the King, who seemed remarkably unperturbed. It was nothing at all like he had expected Thranduil to be. But then, was this not exactly like Legolas?

There was a sudden flurry of activity outside and the door was suddenly flung open.

'Dinner, Aran,' declared a large, imposing looking man. He was clearly the Cook for he clapped his hands importantly and a small army of maids scurried in quickly, each carrying an array of plates and covered dishes. Tempting smells wafted from these platters which were swiftly laid on the table and at a nod from the Cook, the elves whipped off the covers.

There was a tureen of rich venison stew, steaming hot and aromatic, bowls of spring greens and carrots and a big jug of gravy. There was a large silver platter with slices of roasted boar, perfectly cooked and nestled between roasted shallots, parsnips and blackberries. There were little soft white bread rolls, slabs of yellow butter and cheese, bowls of fruits, nuts, seeds, little folded pastries light as air and filled with mushrooms and a creamy sauce and strange red berries that Elrohir had never seen before. His mouth watered for they had not eaten since the morning.

'Wait!' demanded Galion. 'Where is it? What have you done with it?' He glared at the Cook who stood and folded his arms and glared back at Galion.

Elrohir caught sight of Laersul surreptitiously moving a covered pie dish towards the end of the table. But the movement had caught Galion's eye too and he smiled brightly and said, 'Aha, so you have sneaked the rest for yourself, Laersul.' He wagged a finger at Laersul with an indulgent smile. 'You cannot haveallof it yourself. You have to share with our guest and your brothers.' And then Galion wafted his hand dismissively in the Cook's direction. 'I will do the honours of course. You may go, Dameron.'

Dameron, the Cook, muttered something to Laersul that sounded like good luck and one of the maids whispered to Legolas, 'There's a saw somewhere. You might need it.'

Ignoring them, Galion stood and lifted the cover with a flourish and Elrohir looked expectantly at what was revealed.

'You will have three tests if you wish to truly win Legolas,' murmured Laersul cryptically in his ear. 'This is the first.'

Elrohir had been forewarned by Legolas. This is the pie, he thought and braced himself.

A pie certainly. The crust had been decorated with little hearts and rabbits and tiny smiling spiders. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble clearly. But the pastry that should be golden and just the right amount of crisp and just the right amount of melting soft, was anything but; on the contrary, in some places it was burnt and in other places it just looked hard.

Galion seized a knife and tried to cut through the pie crust. Elrohir could see it was as solid as Galion's infamous lembas and would be as effective as a weapon. Galion sawed at it with the knife but that had no effect either. Then he changed the angle and used the knife like a chisel and this seemed to work. When he finally managed to dig out a piece of pastry and dropped it onto Elrohir's plate, it actually clunked.

Elrohir thought the plate had broken.

Everyone stared at it in disbelief.

'You have outdone yourself, Galion,' said Thranduil merrily, (for he had excused himself earlier and therefore escaped) lifting the lid in the tureen of venison stew and sniffing delightedly at the rich aroma. 'It's a pity that you boys will have to share it and I have to eat what the Kitchen has prepared,' he added in a manner that had it been anyone less gracious, could have come across as gloating.

Galion sighed. 'Maybe leave the pastry,' he said, giving up at last. 'That bastard Dameron has deliberately overcooked it. Anyway, It is only there to keep in the flavour,' he said, brandishing the spoon. A grey sludge with bits of what looked like raw meat plopped heavily onto Elrohir's plate.

Elrohir gulped.

Thalos snorted and pretended he had sneezed. 'Laersul wanted it all for himself,' he said, smiling innocently at his older brother. 'He has always been greedy.'

'Now that is really not true,' said Galion, digging out a second, generous portion and slopped it on a plate, turning to pass it to Laersul. 'In fact I have to make sure that Laersul gets his fair share, he will always go without so that you don't have to.'

But Laersul gave a wry smile and held up his hand and said as if he were enduring a great sacrifice. 'I am always happy to go without so that my little brothers do not miss out. Legolas has missed out on this for too long. He should get the most.'

'Yes, make sure Legolas knows what he has been missing,' Thalos said, all wide -eyed innocence.

Legolas grimaced slightly and then smiled. 'What Ihavemissed, Galion, is you.' He took the plate he was given and laughed. 'I am sure there is enough for all of us. And don't forget that Thalos needs to build up his strength, he has grown weak and puny.' He gave a dazzling smile to his brother who stuck a middle finger up at him in universal show of disdain that would be easily understood in all the elven realms, Rings or not.

The lovely tempting smell of venison and roast boar filled the air, and the spring greens were cooked just so, there were little meat pies the pastry melting and light as air. Thranduil filled his plate merrily and ate with great enjoyment and gusto. 'Do try and leave some room for these,' he said, kissing his fingers at the little mushroom pastries. 'I think these were designed for Bilbo when he visits next.'

Elrohir prodded at the pie with his fork, wondering how could eat it. It seemed that only one of them could escape the trial each time without causing Galion mortal offence, and that it must depend on who was quickest to excuse themselves, leaving everyone else to endure. And Galion had made this to welcome Legolas and Elrohir; he could not escape. But he thought too how much they must all love Galion to be so keen not to upset him. A trial indeed, he thought, as Laersul had suggested.

'Some rabbit died to make this,' muttered Thalos, prodding his own serving with his fork much the way Elrohir had.

'Quite a long time ago too,' Laersul murmured quietly. He had got away with a very small piece and was pouring rich dark tempting smelling gravy from the jug over it.

'You don't need that,' said Galion waspishly, pointing the spoon at the jug. 'The filling is moist enough to not need it.'

'It compliments it,' said Laersul seriously. He glanced at Elrohir. 'You should have some.' He smiled kindly and poured the gravy all over the pie, so it was smothered. 'The only way to survive,' he murmured softly as he poured, 'is to cut it very small, smother it in gravy or anything else and just swallow. It feels like eating a slug but you can just about manage.'

Galion did not hear any of these exchanges as he was busy helping himself to the venison stew. 'And where is Gimli Gloinsson?' He took a spoonful of shallots and slices of roast boar. 'Why has he not come with you, Legolas? We have not seen him in an Age.'

'Gimli will be back in Aglarond by now I think.' Legolas shoved a forkful of food into his mouth and swallowed without chewing.

Elrohir tried to do as Laersul had suggested and as Legolas had done, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to think about the sludgy mess that slid around on his plate as if it were alive. The gravy did much to disguise the taste and Elrohir found that if he were very quick and did not think about it, he could just bear it.

'And where is that Man then?' Galion asked, piling his plate with some delicate tarts filled with some sort of mousse and decorated with caramelised onions and slivers of dried tomatoes. 'The new King of Gondor. Whatsissname?'

'Aragorn,' Legolas said emphatically. 'His name, Galion, is Aragorn. Elessar is his other name, his king-name sort of.'

'What's wrong with one name, eh? One can have too many names and no one knows who you're talking about.'

Galion had a point, thought Elrohir.

'He will be back in Aglarond now with Gimli,' said Legolas opening his mouth and shovelling a very large mouthful of pie and then swigging his wine quickly. Elrohir thought that an excellent idea and did likewise. The wine was excellent and did go a little way to disguise the taste.

'I am disappointed that Gimli has not come with you,' Thranduil said. 'I was looking forward to showing him my rock collection. I wanted his opinion on some interesting agates I have found.'

'Gimli is very interested in your rocks, Thran,' said Galion with a leer. 'He has some big purple ones and little green ones,' he told the company.

Elrohir thought Thalos was going to choke and Laersul reached over and hit his brother quite hard on the back.

Thranduil poured him a generous glass of wine. 'Are you sure you do not want to take him back to Ithilien?' he asked Legolas, having poured wine for Thalos, he reached across Galion to fill Elrohir's glass. 'He could even be a little useful. Leave him out somewhere as bait for any Wargs leftover from the War perhaps? They might at least choke on him.'

Galion simply smiled sweetly. 'You wouldn't know how to get dressed in the mornings without me, Thran. You'd put your dress on back to front and your shoes on the wrong way.'

'Dress?' asked Thranduil with a lift of his eyebrow that was so like Elrond's for a minute that Elrohir stared.

Galion waved at him. 'Well what d'you call that thing you wear then.'

'A robe, Galion,' replied Thranduil. 'It's a robe. Kings wear them sometimes when they are being stately.'

'Oropher never wore a dress,' Galion said flatly. 'He didn't need to wear a dress to be stately.'

Elrohir did not hear Thranduil's reply because Laersul asked him at that moment if he was aware of any orc bands remaining after the War on the western side of the Hithaeglir, and Elrohir told him about the skirmishes near Fornost and that Tindómion, one of Imladris' most valiant captains, had gone to help the Dunédain who dwelled there. In turn, Laersul told Elrohir of his concerns about Gundabad becoming a stronghold of the remaining orcs that had not been killed in the War and its aftermath. Thalos joined in, saying that the orcs that had escaped at the end of the Siege of Erebor had all fled north.

Quite suddenly, Elrohir realised he had finished his pie and stared down at his plate with relief. Unfortunately, Galion had clearly been watching them all like a hawk and lifted the knife enthusiastically. 'Here, have some more.'

'Oh, I think the Kitchen will be really disappointed if Elrohir doesn't at least try some of their food,' said Legolas quickly and to Elrohir's utter relief. 'Besides, Thalos has hardly had any.'

'Oh don't worry. There is plenty more. When I heard you were coming, I made a whole batch,' said Galion with delight.

There was a moment of horrified silence and even Thranduil put down his fork.

'Perfect,' said Laersul and four heads turned towards him in alarm. 'We will be hunting over the next few days and we will need plenty of supplies while we are in the field.' There was an audible sigh of relief. 'And fortunately Galion's pies keep for days.'

'Weeks,' muttered Thalos darkly.

'Months' agreed Thranduil with a cheerful smile. 'An excellent idea, Laersul. Legolas, you can take some pies with you when you return to Ithilien. It will remind you of home.

Elrohir thought it might actually be useful to have something to throw in the teeth of any Wargs they might meet for he was sure it would concuss them.

Beside him, Laersul leaned slightly towards him and said, 'You must have one of these, Elrohir.' He dropped one of the delicate little mushroom pastries onto Elrohir's plate. 'You must be starving! And these.' He added some of the tarts.

Elrohir really did not think he could eat anything after the pie, which sat heavily just above his belly, but when he popped the mushroom parcel in his mouth, delicate pastry melted on his tongue, and the sauce was perfectly balanced with just the right seasoning and a surprising little burst of blackberry at the end. He took another and another and another.

'And these are snowberries, said Thranduil, dropping a string of red berries onto Elrohir's plate. 'They can only be found in the snow in the north of the forest.' He pushed the silver platter towards Elrohir, laden with roast boar and shallots. 'They are particularly piquant with venison and boar.' c

Elrohir gingerly tasted a berry with a mouthful of boar. A burst of flavour unleashed itself in his mouth; sweet and savoury. He closed his eyes to enjoy it and when he opened them, he saw Legolas watching him with amusement. He smiled and Legolas smiled back. He almost reached for his hand.

Thranduil turned to him and said pleasantly, 'And did you encounter any of these stray bands of Orcs when you travelled along the Greenway? I wonder if they seek a stronghold in the West as they are building in the North.'

'No, not exactly,' Elrohir said. 'But there is a tale to be told.' He looked meaningfully at Legolas for he knew that Legolas was reluctant to tell his family all that had happened in the Iaun-Gynd for the peril he had been in and they would worry. But Elrohir had argued that they had to know that Cardolan was restored and the Barrow Wights vanquished.

Legolas sighed and told, with modest understatement, how the Hobbits had written to Aragorn about Merry's disappearance and how they had gone to assist and ended up on the Barrow Downs where they had driven out the Barrow Wights with Erestor, Elladan, Elrohir and the Dunédain, Baranor.'

'Legolas is being far too modest. He was instrumental in restoring the realm,' Elrohir said with pride.

'And yet you appear to be uninjured?' Laersul observed, looking intently at his little brother. Legolas coloured slightly under his scrutiny and Laersul held his gaze for a moment longer and then released him. Elrohir thought that Laersul knew all too well what battles had to have been fought to achieve their ends. He found himself liking as well as respecting Laersul.

'Anyway, it was not just me,' said Legolas. 'It was …'

'It was Aragorn and Gimli too, yes,' interrupted Elrohir quickly because he did not want to reveal Maglor's involvement. 'And Frodo and Sam, Merry and Pippin.' He turned towards Thranduil and said, 'Aragorn is leading a contingent of Dunédain, originally from Cardolan, back to the Iaun-Gynd to begin restoring the realm. It will bring peace and prosperity to those lands after much strife.'

Thranduil leaned back in his chair and narrowed his slate green eyes in a way that reminded Elrohir all too well of Celeborn. 'That is a deed well done,' he said approvingly and he flung his arm over Legolas' shoulder. His handsome face was flushed with pride but he too looked searchingly into Legolas' face, into his eyes and when Legolas' gaze dipped away, Thranduil pressed his lips together as if he knew full well that Legolas had endured great danger.

'Anyway, whatever happened before, here you are, both safe and whole.' He pulled Legolas close to kiss him on the brow. 'As always, Legolas, I am proud of you.' Then he looked at Elrohir keenly and said, 'You must keep each other safe now.' He indicated Legolas and continued, 'He is inyourcare asyouare in his.' He reached for Legolas' hand then and clasped it and then reached over to take Elrohir's hand. 'Be blessed by each other. Look to each other for wisdom and comfort.'

At Thranduil's touch, Elrohir felt a strange thrill, a Power that came from no Ring. But it was a blessing indeed and he knew that Thranduil had bound them as surely as his own words that night on the Barrow Downs.

'Well this seems to be the right moment to announce that I have a special surprise for you all since Legolas is home,' Galion announced with a pleased smile. Thranduil took a breath, releasing Legolas and Elrohir and seemed to brace himself.

'I have made a treacle tart.'

Deathly silence descended. Beside him, Laersul ran his tongue round his teeth as if calculating whether he would lose his teeth either in the thick, chewy treacle or as a result of the ton of sugar used in the making.

'It was the King's favourite,' said Galion with a faraway look in his eyes.

Everyone looked at each other awkwardly. Elrohir did not understand at first until Thranduil heaved a sigh. 'It was,' he acknowledged. 'Oropher had… a very sweet tooth. And very strong teeth,' he added.

'Like a Warg's,' said Galion cheerfully, filling up Elrohir's wine glass and Elrohir realised he had drunk rather a lot.

Elrohir had heard a lot about Oropher of course from accounts of the Last Alliance, but no one had ever mentioned his teeth. And he thought they would have for the accounts were not friendly to Oropher or the Woodelves. But even if it were true, carnivorous teeth and a hard head was nothing compared with his own grandmother.

'He loved my cooking, did the King,' said Galion sadly.

'He lovedyou,' said Thranduil affectionately and Elrohir saw that indeed, the old King had had a tender spot for Galion in the way that he thought Thranduil had had for Legolas dear friend, Anglach..

Galion nodded sadly and then looked up accusingly at Thranduil. 'It's wasted on you really, Thran.

'It is,' Thranduil admitted. 'I do not have my father's appreciation for your delicacies.'

'I don't either,' said Thalos quickly and Elrohir thought delicacies was the least appropriate word to describe what Galion cooked. 'I am just like him.' Thalos nodded disrespectfully at Thranduil.

Laersul reached for the decanter and poured wine into his own glass and then Thalos'. He passed it onto Legolas and smiled with amusement at his little brother's gloomy expression. 'I think we have all had enough food to be honest. We have all eaten so well and there is a feast tomorrow. To do justice to the tart, perhaps we should wait.'

'Perhaps we can take it with us tomorrow with the rest of the pies?' Legolas said hopefully.

Elrohir nodded eagerly and trusted that Legolas would find somewhere to drop the tart that couldn't actually break anything.

'Good idea,' Thalos said and his handsome, scarred face turned towards Elrohir. 'Welcome to the Wood,' he said and lifted his glass in salute.

'And to the family,' said Thranduil.

And Laersul leaned towards him and under the guise of topping up his glass that really didn't need it, murmured, 'You have passed two of the tests. Only one left.' And he smiled enigmatically.

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