Disclaimer: I don’t own them, and I promise to put them back when I’m done.

Chapter Six: In Which The Fathers Take a Stand

     King Thranduil dismounted his horse, and gazed appreciatively up at the Citadel. In the years since the end of the War, the Elves had coaxed life into the City-not human life, although that came, too, but the life of many plants. The City that had been purely stone the last time that Thranduil had visited was now also a place of green. The Elves had done well.

     On entering the palace, Thranduil’s gaze fell upon a diminutive and familiar sight.

     “Well met, my lord Thain,” he said formally, bowing as Pippin bowed to him. “I trust that you have been well since you left the forest?”

      “Very well, your highness,” Pippin said. “Life has continued on like normal.”

      Thranduil thought that he detected a glimmer of…something…in the hobbit’s eyes, but ignored it as he was led to Aragorn’s study. If there were something amiss, he would have felt it long ago.

    Pippin left the Elvenking at the door to Aragorn’s study, returning to his post with a somewhat wicked grin on his face. He had the sneaking suspicion that the two monarchs were going to be in for an interesting afternoon.

      “Mae govannen, Elessar,” Thranduil said to the man whom he had trained in tracking under the eves of the Greenwood. “You look as though you have something on your mind.”

     Indeed, the King Elessar was frowning at something on his desk. It looked to be two letters, Thranduil saw as he came closer. Aragorn pulled himself together as he approached.

      “Welcome, King Thranduil,” he said, rising. “I was just reading these letters-appeals for my judgment in a most unusual case. Here, read them. I imagine that they will involve you, as well.”

    Thranduil frowned, wondering what in Middle Earth an appeal to the King of Gondor could possibly have to do with himself. He took the papers, however, and as he read them, his eyebrows climbed nearly to his hairline.

     One letter was written in childish handwriting, though the paper was neat. “To His Majesty, King Elessar, High King of Gondor and Arnor,” it read. “We, the undersigned, beg your judgment on our case. The Elves of Mirkwood, Ithilien, and Rivendell have committed a serious villainy. They have taken captive our friend, the hobbit Faramir Took, future Thain of the Shire. We beg your aid in recovering him. Sincerely, Prince Eldarion of Gondor, Prince Elfwine of Rohan, Lady Theodwyn and Lord Rowan of Ithilien, and Lady Elanorallie of Rivendell.”

     Thranduil looked up at Aragorn in astonishment. “Go on, read the next one,” Aragorn said.

     “To His Majesty, the High King Elessar, King of the Realms of Gondor and Arnor. We, the Elves of Rivendell, Mirkwood, and Ithilien, request that you preside over a case of injustice. Our good friend and prince, Legolas of Mirkwood and Ithilien, has been taken prisoner by a small group of miscreants that call themselves the Fellowship of the Green Dragon. In retaliation, we have taken their friend, the Ernil I Pheriannath Faramir Took, future Thain of the Shire, in his place. We will return him when our friend and prince is returned to us. Sincerely yours, the Elves of Rivendell, Mirkwood, and Ithilien.” There followed a list of no less than forty signatures.

   Thranduil lowered the letters and looked back at Aragorn. Words failed him, and he glanced back at the two letters before exclaiming, “What is going on here?”

   Aragorn gave Thranduil a seat next to the fire, and sent a servant for some refreshments. As they waited, he told the Elvenking of the events of the past several days. The Council had proceeded very well, all things considered, but in the meantime, the children of the visiting ambassadors had banded together to form their Fellowship. He skirted lightly over the issue of Legolas’ involvement with their early antics, instead moving on to this more serious issue.

    “You have been a monarch far longer than I, King Thranduil,” Aragorn said. “What do you think that the best course of action is?”

*****

    Theodwyn answered the door to the nursery when the knock came. Outside stood a liveried Meriadoc Brandybuck, a wry grin upon his face.

    “A message from the King, milady,” he said, holding out a sealed envelope. Theodwyn took it and curtsied; Merry bowed in response and left.

     “What does he say?” asked Eldarion, springing off of the couch and going up to her. The rest of the children crowded around Theodwyn as opened the letter and read it aloud.

    “To the Fellowship of the Green Dragon,

            You are hereby summoned to a meeting with the King Elessar today, the Thirty-First of October, at five o’clock in the evening. Bring any hostages that you may have acquired.

~King Elessar.”

      “Ladies and gentlemen,” said Eldarion. “Go get dressed in your finest. We have an audience with the King in one hour!”

*****

    “Well, this is unusual.”

     Faramir, Prince of Ithilien and Steward of Gondor shook his head at the monarchs in front of him. Sitting or standing around the throne, dressed in their very finest royal clothing and crowns, were Aragorn of Gondor, Eomer of Rohan, and Thranduil of Mirkwood, and one Guard of the Citadel-Peregrin Took.

     “Is there a reason for this, my lord?” Faramir asked. He hoped there was; he had been called away from his fair wife in a moment of rare peace and quiet.

     “There is,” Aragorn said, a slight smile on his face. “It involves all of our children. An interesting half an hour should follow, Faramir.”

     “Yes, sometimes measures such as these become necessary when children are in need of appeasement,” King Thranduil added. He looked rather smug, Faramir thought. Dangerously smug. Aragorn looked the same.

  Faramir took his place in the standing line of fathers and monarchs, wondering what in Overheaven’s name was going to happen. The only other time that he had seen that particular look on Aragorn’s face, Eldarion and Theodwyn had convinced him to set up an edict to protect a baby dragon that they had claimed was living in the highest tower. Yes, whatever was going to happen, it would be interesting.

      Just then, the doors to the Hall were opened, and two lines of people walked in, one tall, leading a very short figure, the other short and leading a very tall figure. Both lines stopped in amazement at the sight before them, and two voices cried in something close to horror, “King Thranduil?!”

TBC