Chapter 13: Festivals

Thranduil waited at the foot of the stairs that led to the set of flets that formed the household of the royal family. Hallion was escorting his guests, Amglaur and his family, to him at that very moment and Thranduil was a war of mixed emotions. He did not like Amglaur now any more than when he first met him and maintaining a sense of decorum with him that would be acceptable in his own Court promised to be challenging. But he had enjoyed the company of Amglaur’s wife and most especially his daughter during his visit to Lothlorien. He hoped that Lindomiel would enjoy her stay in Eryn Galen. Enjoy it enough to be interested in living here, perhaps. Time would tell. He straightened automatically upon seeing Amlgaur and his party approach.

“My Lord, the Prince and Princess of Lothlorien and their daughter, the Princess Lindomiel,” Hallion announced the guests formally.

Thranduil bowed slightly, as did Amglaur and they greeted each in the traditional elven manner, bringing their hand to their chest and swinging it down and out.

“Mae govannen, Ernil Amglaur. Gil síla erin lu e-govaded vín.”

“Mae govannen, Aran Thranduil o Eryn Galen,” responded Amglaur formally and he began to introduce the rest of the members of his staff. Thranduil recognized most of them from his visit to Lothlorien. Thranduil in turn introduced his advisors to Amglaur. Then he presented his younger brother, Aradunnon, who Amglaur had met briefly in the past. Finally he presented his mother, who was smiling warmly at the prince.

Amglaur and his wife returned the smile. Dropping all pretense of formality, they embraced the Queen Mother of Eryn Galen.

“Dieneryn, it is such a joy to see you again. It has been far too long,” Limmiel exclaimed, keeping her arms around her cousin. “You cannot continue burying yourself in the Wood. You must come more often to Lorien.”

Dieneryn smiled, winked at her son and began to lead Limmiel and Amglaur off, an arm around each of their waists. “You know what responsibility is, I think, Limmiel,” Thranduil heard his mother say as she relieved him of the one person he did not care to see.

Thranduil smiled. This left him very free to speak to the person he did wish to see. “My lady, I trust your trip was pleasant,” he said, interrupting her amused gaze towards her father and mother. She turned a smile towards Thranduil. It was truly radiant. As he had so often in Lothlorien, Thranduil found himself a little breathless in her presence.

“As pleasant as a week’s ride can be, my lord. I cannot say I have ever traveled for that long before. I am glad to be here.”

Thranduil offered her his arm. “Since my Naneth has absconded with your parents, allow me to show you to your room so you can relax a bit before dinner. We will have a bit of a festival tonight on the lawn in honor of your family's arrival.” He guided her into the trees and the servants that had been present to perform the duties that their king and queen now carried out themselves stared with some confusion at their masters’ backs.

*~*~*

By the time the guests from Lothlorien had refreshed themselves, the lawn in front of the royal household was set with tables laden with food. Roast pheasant, wild boar, venison, breads, fruits, pies of both meat and fruit…the variety would please any palette and the quantity would satisfy any appetite. Happy to accept any excuse for merrymaking, the Silvan elves that lived in the capital turned out in force to enjoy the food, music, dancing and opportunity to see the visitors from Lothlorien. Visitors, especially foreign dignitaries, were not particularly common in Greenwood. As such, everyone was curious to see who they were.

Conversation flowed rather pleasantly at the High Table as the feast was served. Thranduil was seated in the middle of the table and to his right were his mother, brother and advisors. Amglaur sat to Thranduil’s left, which was, of course, an appropriate courtesy although it made Thranduil tense. Next to Amglaur were his wife, daughter and a pair of ladies that had traveled with Lindomiel--Amoneth and Gwedhieth. The three young maidens attracted a fair share of interested stares from the lower tables, a fact not missed by Thranduil. He could not help but feel a pang of jealousy, wishing that he could enjoy the lovely sights as easily as the elves on the lawn. Instead, he made polite conversation with Amglaur.

“This wine is outstanding, Thranduil. Where ever do you get it? You cannot make it yourselves?” Amglaur asked with genuine interest.

Thranduil directed a satisfied smirk at his guest. “I wish that we could. But nay, I buy it from the Mannish villages in a region to the Northeast called Dorwinion. We discovered them quite by accident when following some criminals.” He grinned. “Its expensive, but it is one luxury that I am willing to indulge in. I fear I have become quite accustomed to it.”

“I can understand that. We will fight over how many barrels I plan on stealing from you before I leave, I am certain.”

Several of the elves present laughed at that and Thranduil looked at Amglaur with some mischief in his eyes.

Finally, the dining began to slow and minstrels played in one area of the lawn for dancing while some contests began in another. Thranduil danced the opening dance with Limmiel, as was his obligation as host. He noticed that Amglaur danced with Dieneryn, which brought an involuntary smile to Thranduil’s lips for two reasons. The primary one was that his mother took part in the merrymaking far too infrequently. He certainly understood that but he was happy to see her dancing. The second reason Thranduil smiled was that he could not get Celeborn’s story out of his head.

Lindomiel danced the first dance with Thranduil's brother, Aradunnon. That also made Thranduil smile. Hallion and his brother had been the only people in whom Thranduil had confided his interest in the lady from Lothlorien. He appreciated his brother’s obvious assistance in both entertaining and protecting the lady. And he was certain Aradunnon was also using this dance to appraise her as Hallion had in Lothlorien. Of course, Lindomiel was certainly appraising Aradunnon as well. That would be entertaining, Thranduil thought. He and his brother were very different.

Like his mother, Thranduil also did not dance often at banquets. He never had, even before his father’s death. He simply was not yet ready to bind himself to anyone and he saw no point in giving any of the maidens in Greenwood the impression that he favored them. Because he rarely danced much beyond those dances required by etiquette, eyebrows raised when Thranduil immediately approached the visiting princess from Lothlorien for the second dance.

Lindomiel wore a flowing gown the color of delicate spring leaves. It was embroidered with gold thread. The light of the lanterns and the full moon reflected off the embroidery and her hair such that she fairly glittered as she twirled with the dancers. Thranduil saw only the light in her eyes and her bright smile as she laughed, completely enthralled by the magic of the music. The king found himself captivated.

After the first dance, Amglaur escorted Dieneryn back to the High Table at her request, seating her and then himself. She smiled at him. "Do not feel obligated to sit, Amglaur. I am perfectly comfortable by myself and Thranduil will join me shortly. He always does."

Amglaur looked at Thranduil dancing with Lindomiel. "I would not count on that," he said under his breath before adding in a stronger voice. "I had hoped to sit and talk with you if you do not mind the company. If you would prefer to be alone, do not hesitate to tell me."

Dieneryn smiled at him. "You know I do not mind the company, Amglaur. Though it has been a very long time since we last met, we are still friends, I hope."

Amglaur smiled at that. "I hope so as well, Dieneryn," he said softly in a tone that would have astonished Thranduil had he been there to hear it. He had never heard anything but gruffness from Amglaur. Then the prince's expression became serious. "I have not yet had a chance to speak to you about..." he hesitated and looked down.

Dieneryn visibly braced herself for the topic of conversation that she knew would follow.

Without looking up, Amglaur continued in a soft voice, "Oropher and I were more rivals than friends, but when Amdir, Amroth and I realized he had fallen, we were..." he sighed. "It is hard to explain, Dieneryn. I did not like him, but we felt so lost without him. It just did not seem possible. He was such a presence. It was a terrible blow. As I am sure it was to you. How do you fare? Limmiel and I have been very concerned for you."

Dieneryn sighed quietly. "I am as well as I can be, Amglaur. I am devastated, of course. It was nearly impossible not to sail. I am certain I would have faded if not for my sons. Before they returned, I held on to the hope that they would survive the war as their adar had not. I had to know that they did survive and I promised myself that I would sail as soon as I saw them once more. When they did come back to the wood, I realized I could not leave them...especially Thranduil. This has been more difficult for him than you can possibly imagine. His father was so central in his life and of course he holds himself responsible for everything."

Amglaur nodded. "Yes. We could all see that during the war." Amglaur frowned. "I am sorry, Dieneryn, but it is hard for me to like Thranduil. He reminds me so much of Oropher. Nevertheless, I will grant you that he led us exceedingly well during the war."

Dieneryn smirked. "I wondered how you and Thranduil got along--both during the war and the summit. He has been fairly tight lipped about the summit. He did not even inform us that you planned a visit here until this week--which came as a great surprise to me. I take it that you and Thranduil did not find much common ground during the summit?"

"On the contrary, we have far too much in common in my opinion," he replied coldly, eyes turning to glare at Thranduil and Lindomiel, still dancing.

Dieneryn looked at Amglaur sharply. She could plainly tell there was more to that statement than met the eye. "You and Oropher had a great deal in common as well, yet you never got along," she observed.

"Exactly," Amglaur replied cryptically.

Now Dieneryn studied Amglaur openly.

Amglaur turned his attention back to his old friend. "So tell me about your son, Dieneryn. Has he more of you in him than I have seen?"

Dieneryn laughed. "I do not know, Amglaur. I never understood what you found so distasteful about Oropher. He was strong-willed, sharp, passionate...those terms all describe my son as well. They also describe you."

"I always thought Oropher was very self-centered," Amglaur said irritably.

"Oropher wanted what he wanted, but he dedicated his life to Eryn Galen for the last three millennia. He was not selfish."

"Did he make you happy, Dieneryn?" Amglaur asked directly.

Dieneryn's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon," she replied, openly offended.

Amglaur did not flinch. "I mean to know, Dieneryn. Did he make you happy?"

"I have never heard a more inappropriate question in my entire life! How dare you ask such a thing? Oropher and I were married for over three and a half millennia. You and Limmiel have been married for the same amount of time. You want a lesson in respect for your wife, Amglaur."

Amglaur frowned. "I love Limmiel, Dieneryn. I am not asking you this because I still feel spurned, for pity's sake. But I will know the answer. Did he make you happy? Was he capable of putting your needs before his? After all, he dragged you to Eryn Galen..."

Dieneryn cut him off with an outraged cry. "I have no intention of listening to this. He most certainly did make me happy. He loved me. There was absolutely nothing that he would not have done for me. He did not drag me to Eryn Galen. He left Lindon because I did not like living there. I missed Neldoreth and Region--I longed for the forest. He made this trip because he wanted more for Thranduil then a life enmeshed in the doom of the Noldor. He wanted peace for his family and his people. He took upon himself the responsibility of leading almost a hundred of us here. He did that not for himself, Amglaur. Nor did he agree to rule the Silvan for his own glory. He did it because he was asked. How dare you ask me if he made me happy?"

Amglaur looked away. "Because I have to know if his son can make my daughter happy."

Dieneryn blinked. "Excuse me?"

Amglaur raised his eyebrows. "Thranduil did not even mention to you that he spent his time during the summit courting my daughter?"

Dieneryn's jaw dropped slightly and she shook her head. Her eyes swept over the green, searching out her son who was indeed still dancing a second dance with Lindomiel. "No, he did not mention that," she replied softly, watching them.

Amglaur frowned. "And therein lies my concern. How much could he possibly care for her if he did not even mention meeting her to his own naneth?"

"Thranduil does not discuss his private life, Amglaur, not even with me. He would never have mentioned such a thing to me--much less if he was serious," she said quietly. Then she looked back at Amglaur and laughed. "My son and your daughter? Now that I would have never expected! Oropher would return from Mandos this moment if he could prevent this."

"I would welcome him back as a dear friend if he could help me prevent this," Amglaur retorted coldly.

Dieneryn looked at him with clear disapproval. "You would not stand in the way of your own daughter's happiness for some sort of twisted revenge on Oropher? You do not even know Thranduil."

"Of course not," he replied quickly. "But I will take more care with my daughter than your parents took with you. I will know Thranduil and his realm. I will be absolutely certain that Thranduil will be devoted to my daughter before I will consent to anything."

Dieneryn smiled. "I would expect nothing less," she replied evenly. "And you know, my father did the same."

Amglaur's mouth formed a hard line. "Perhaps," he responded evenly, eyes on Thranduil and Lindomiel as the king led her away from the dancers to get some wine. He resolutely turned away from the sight of his daughter on Thranduil's arm. "What would be your views on such a match?"

Dieneryn grew serious. "I cannot say immediately. I do not know Lindomiel at all. I have spoken less than twenty words with her. Knowing her parents as well as I do, I can assume she is a fine lady," she said with a smile at Amglaur. "Of course, Thranduil is almost four millennia old and more than capable of making his own decisions. I would be extremely hesitant to refuse any choice he made. I would only do so for a very clear reason." She paused. "My only immediate thought is...well, how old is she, Amglaur? She could not be over one hundred."

"She is one hundred and two," he replied. "And that is certainly a concern."

Dieneryn nodded to that. "There is a great deal of Thranduil's life that she will simply not be able to comprehend and that could be difficult."

"There is a great deal of Thranduil's life that I do not want her to even know about much less try to comprehend," Amglaur replied firmly.

Dieneryn frowned watching Lindomiel and her sons on the lawn. Aradunnon, Lindomiel and her ladies appeared to be teasing Thranduil about something. The king was looking at them with open shock. Dieneryn's frown deepened.

"And of course being so young, Lindomiel would still be very high spirited. Thranduil is so serious...so focused on his responsibilities. I wonder if she could be happy committing herself to his lifestyle at such a young age," Dieneryn ventured.

"Indeed," Amglaur agreed dryly.

Dieneryn looked over at Amglaur. "It seems you have already made your decision on this," she observed.

He scowled. "I have for all the good it will do me. Lindomiel is very strong willed. I will have to argue very convincingly to prevent this." He paused meaningfully. "Or I can allow Thranduil to undo it himself. I think a season here in Eryn Galen, where she can see what her life would be like, will solve this dilemma for me."

Dieneryn raised her eyebrows. "We shall see, I suppose," she replied quietly not approving of that treatment of her son at all. He had seen enough pain. She did not want him to experience more.

Both Amglaur and Dieneryn turned their attention back to their children, the Queen of Eryn Galen studying Lindomiel with new interest.

*~*~*

After two dances, Thranduil escorted Lindomiel to where her ladies, Amoneth and Gwedhieth, stood talking and enjoying wine in a group of elves. Amongst them was Aradunnon, Thranduil's younger brother. The king smirked. His brother had his arm about Gwedhieth's waist as they spoke. Aradunnon's personality was much less reserved than his older brother's. He was born in Eryn Galen and raised amongst the merry wood elves, free of memories of the tragedies suffered in Beleriand by his kin. Though he had fought Sauron, he was largely untouched by shadow. And he brought out the worst in his older brother.

"Fair evening, muindor nin," Thranduil said with an openly teasing voice and sparkling eyes as he led Lindomiel to join her friends.

Aradunnon recognized the challenge instantly and had no intention of letting his older brother even start with him tonight. After all, he was armed with knowledge--he was privy to the reason for Lindomiel's visit. And that would make taking the offensive against Thranduil all too easy. "Indeed it is," he replied, voice filled with mirth. "And even fairer company, I believe."

Gwedhieth and Amoneth giggled at that and Lindomiel smiled, raising her eyebrows slightly and glancing at Thranduil. The king did not yet recognize the danger he was in, so he delved right in to tease his brother.

"I see you are up to your usual tricks," Thranduil declared, looking pointedly at Aradunnon's hand on Gwedhieth's hip. The king turned his eyes to Gwedhieth. "Do not give my brother a moment of your time, my lady. He is not to be trusted."

Gwedhieth laughed. "I am quite able to see that myself, my lord."

Aradunnon affected an insulted expression. "I have done nothing to deserve such slander," he declared, laughing.

"Nothing but dance with all three of the new ladies present," Amoneth observed pointedly. "And they have only just begun the fourth dance."

Thranduil joined in the laughter. "That is my brother. He does not believe in wasting time. Not when it comes to flirting."

Aradunnon only laughed, now drawing Amoneth to him with his other arm around her waist. She looked at him with alarm. "One cannot afford to waste time with beauties such as these. Else they will be stolen by some other rogue."

"Rogue describes it well," Amoneth said coolly, extracting herself from Aradunnon's grasp.

Aradunnon did not appear the least concerned by Amoneth's snub. He simply looked at Thranduil wickedly and reached for Lindomiel's hand, pulling her away from his brother to stand in the place Amoneth had so hastily vacated. He showed enough restraint to not put his arm around her, but he did hold fast to her hand. Lindomiel looked at him with amusement.

Aradunnon looked at his brother with dancing eyes and launched his counter-offensive. "Of course your behavior is so out of character tonight, muindor nin. You never dance beyond the responsibility of the first and last dance with the lady you escorted to dinner, yet tonight you have deprived everyone else present of the opportunity to enjoy this charming lady's company by trapping her into two consecutive dances. How unusual and what poor manners. I cannot imagine what the reason might be."

Aradunnon finished that little speech with a look of innocent curiosity in his eyes directed at his brother. Thranduil barely hid the glare he wished to use to melt his brother, finally recognizing the game.

Lindomiel shared a knowing glance with her friends and mercifully came to the rescue. "I enjoy both those particular dances. I did not want to miss the second one."

Aradunnon smiled at her. "I rather doubt you will miss a single dance, my lady, unless you choose to do so. We love to dance in Eryn Galen and especially with such beautiful ladies. You need not settle for such boring company as my brother here."

Lindomiel and her friends openly laughed at that. "And you fancy yourself more interesting company, I imagine?" Lindomiel asked, struggling to keep her face serious.

"You may ask anyone here, my lady. They will all tell you that I am far more exciting company than my rather staid older brother," Aradunnon responded with a teasing look at Thranduil.

Lindomiel looked at Thranduil taking in the mildly annoyed expression he aimed at his brother. Under her gaze, Thranduil turned his attention back to Lindomiel. She winked at him surreptitiously and then looked up at Aradunnon. "Well, when I was discussing this trip to Eryn Galen with Thranduil, he refused to tell me a thing about his kingdom or people saying he wanted me to form my own opinions. I suppose then it is my obligation to spend as much time as possible doing that."

Aradunnon's eyes lit up at Lindomiel's open acceptance of his attack on his older brother. "I would be happy to introduce you to everything you need to know about Eryn Galen and all the interesting people in it," Aradunnon offered quickly, with a sly glance to his brother. "In particular, I would love for you to meet some friends of mine. We meet every night for a little merrymaking on the river bank. I will take you there tomorrow night if you would like."

Lindomiel raised her eyebrows slightly, but before she could respond she caught Thranduil's now openly shocked expression. Her eyes widened. There must be quite a bit more to that offer than met the eye, she concluded. And indeed there was.

The 'merrymaking' Aradunnon had referred to was a raucous gathering of warriors and laborers and occasionally even woodsmen that normally fell to gambling and fairly dangerous games after imbibing in too much drink. The fact that Aradunnon was ever present in this setting scandalized Thranduil whenever he heard of it. He knew their father had openly disapproved of his son's visits to the river bank--indeed many breakfast conversations had revolved around that activity. The idea that he would mention it to Lindomiel horrified Thranduil. That Aradunnon might actually take her there was inconceivable. Of course Lindomiel knew nothing of this, but Thranduil's expression told her she could have some fun teasing him.

She looked at Aradunnon with overly obvious interest, taking his arm solicitously and looking up at him. "I would love to go with you, Aradunnon. I appreciate any opportunity to acquaint myself further with Eryn Galen and I am certain I would meet a good number of people that way."

Aradunnon laughed. "Yes, you would. Indeed, let me begin to introduce you ladies to some of my friends tonight," he said placing his goblet on the table and scanning the crowd.

Thranduil was about to protest, concerned his brother was just impish enough to present some of his wilder friends to Lindomiel and her ladies, when they were approached by a group of ellyth that had been watching them throughout their conversation. Seeing that the group surrounding Thranduil was apparently breaking up, these maidens wanted to approach the king for a dance. Because he had danced with Lindomiel, he could not politely refuse to continue dancing for at least a few more songs. Thranduil was pulled away from his brother and guests and the ellyth in Greenwood enjoyed the rare privilege of dancing with their king. As he reluctantly returned to the dancing green, Thranduil heard his brother making some comments about his 'popularity' with the maidens in Eryn Galen that brought Lindomiel, Amoneth and Gwedhieth to laughter. He scowled. Aradunnon was really too much at times.

*~*~*

For the next hour, Thranduil spoke to many ladies, showing none of them anything more than courtesy and favoring none in the slightest. This did not seem to impede the blatant flirtations of some, which Thranduil deftly ignored.

Unfortunately, one lady seemed particularly difficult to ignore.

From across the lawn, still seated with the queen at the High Table, Amglaur watched a dark-haired elleth practically drape herself over the king. She approached him as he stood speaking with a maiden he had just finished dancing with. The dark-haired elleth walked directly to the king and wrapped her hands around his arm possessively, leaning against his side and looking up at him adoringly. Amglaur raised his eyebrows. If there were ellyth in Greenwood that treated the king that familiarly, he did not understand why his daughter had been allowed to make this trip.

Then he saw the king’s reaction.

Thranduil openly started at the contact, looking at her with alarm. His response was enough to draw the attention of his bodyguard. Thranduil forestalled his intervention with a slight shake of his head and then looked with poorly concealed annoyance at the elleth who was by then pulling him back the green for a dance. Thranduil did not refuse the dance, but it was fairly obvious from his stiff posture and the irritated set of his mouth that he would have far preferred to.

Immediately after that encounter, Thranduil retreated to the High Table to sit with his mother and guests. Amglaur and Dieneryn were engaged in a heated conversation with Thranduil's uncle, Oropher's brother, Engwe. That was a conversation the king had no desire to participate in—he had learned that lesson well already—so he watched Lindomiel dance. She had escaped from his brother apparently and Thranduil was thankful to see that she was not dancing with any of Aradunnon's friends. He knew if he dedicated too much time to her himself, it would draw undue attention to them both and he had no desire to place her—or himself—in that uncomfortable situation so early during her visit. The citizenry would figure out his intentions soon enough. Best to let her settle in a bit before they did. But she was a beautiful sight to see dancing on his lawn. He gazed at her until he noticed his advisors looking at him with amusement. Then he forced his attention to the contests on the other portion of the lawn.

Many of the contests involved archery. They ranged from simple target practice to games that demonstrated a particular skill—speed of firing, hitting moving targets, hitting targets while on horseback, marking targets quickly and so on. Thranduil watched with some amusement as his personal guards and best warriors dueled with the guests from Lothlorien. One game, his particular favorite, caught his eye for a rather unusual reason—one of the guards from Lothlorien was very proficient in it. In fact, he was trouncing Thranduil’s best guards. Of course Thranduil could beat all those guards as well, but he had to admit he was not sure he could beat that guard from Lothlorien. The King of Eryn Galen had never been fond of making a spectacle of himself. He rarely let himself be drawn into festival games. Tonight however, without really thinking about it, he found himself standing and removing his outer robe and cloak.

The game in question involved a small circular target about two feet in diameter. The target was not solid, but rather constructed of thin sticks bent to form circles and then bound together with twine. The outer circle surrounded a series of five concentric inner circles—the center one measuring only one inch in diameter. The target was either rolled from one point on the ground to another or moved along a string between trees or on poles through the air. The goal was to fire as many arrows through the target as possible as it moved. More points were earned for arrows that went through the center circle of the target than for the outer circles. The game could either be played with the archers standing still on foot, moving on foot or moving on horseback. As the players tonight were the best guards in Eryn Galen and Lothlorien, they were playing on horseback.

Confident, even cocky, smiles appeared on the faces of Eryn Galen’s competitors as they saw their king approach the field.

“Loan me your bow, Conuiön,” Thranduil said walking up to the captain of his personal guard and holding out his hand. The guard’s bow and quiver were automatically placed in the outstretched hand. The king was focused on the guard from Lothlorien as he finished a pass against another of Eryn Galen’s guards and won.

Walking up to the guard, Thranduil absent-mindedly tested the bow, drawing it partially. “You are quite good,” he said, addressing the foreign guard as he still sat on his horse, receiving accolades from the last game.

The guard’s eyes widened slightly as he recognized who was addressing him. He bowed respectfully but his eyes held the irrepressible joy of resounding victory on the field of honor. “Thank you, my lord,” he replied.

“Care to try a new opponent? Best two of three?”

“It would be my pleasure, my lord.” He bowed again and then added quietly in a polite but self-assured voice. “I hope you will not be offended when you lose.”

Thranduil raised his eyebrows, amused. “I do not know if I will be offended or not. I have never lost this particular game.” He offered the guard a smug half salute and went to borrow a horse from one of his personal guards.

Amglaur had been in conversation with his wife and Dieneryn when Thranduil joined the games and as such, e had not noticed Thranduil's departure. Therefore, when he turn to ask the king a question, he was a little surprised to find himself speaking only to his host’s dress robe and cloak draped on the back of his chair. He frowned, causing Dieneryn to laugh.

“He is gaming,” she said, looking out over the field where Thranduil was mounting a spirited white stallion. “Something must have truly piqued his interest. Thranduil never takes part in these contests. He does not even bring his weapons to the festivals with him. I am sure that is not his bow.”

Amglaur looked at Thranduil smugly. “Well, he will regret taking on that particular opponent with a borrowed and unfamiliar bow and horse.” Limmiel nodded in agreement and Dieneryn gave them a questioning look. Amglaur smirked. “He is young, but he has become the best archer in Lothlorien. Far and away the best I have ever seen.”

Dieneryn smiled slightly. “My son is not without skill in archery himself, Amglaur,” the Queen said quietly.

Amglaur smirked back. “Would you care to place a little wager on the outcome of this match?” he said in a challenging tone.

Dieneryn smiled and bets were placed by the elves at the High Table.

The Lothlorien guard took the first pass at the target in the initial match. He drove four arrows through it, but none through the center circle. Nevertheless, he earned an impressive 160 points—four arrows all through the second circle. He smiled at Thranduil as he finished his turn. That had not been his best showing that evening, but it was still better than any of the Eryn Galen guards had done.

Thranduil smiled back and then focused as the judges announced his turn was to start. He drove six arrows through the target before it reached the end of its course—several of them through the outer circles but two through the second and one through the center for a total of 180 points. He had taken the first match with something of a flourish. Hitting the target six times in the allotted time took skill and speed.

The spectators at the High Table exchanged looks, some satisfied and some quite surprised.

“He is good,” Amglaur commented turning to pay more attention to the second match.

Thranduil took the first turn in the second round. Again, he shot through the target six times. This time, he hit the center twice, the second circle twice and the outer circle twice for a total of 200 hundred points. Cheers went up from all the guards on the field.

“Is that a personal best, my lord?” the spectators at the High Table heard Thranduil’s bodyguard ask with some enthusiasm.

“It might be,” he replied, clearing the field for the Lothlorien archer.

The blonde guard had misjudged his opponent. The other archers from Eryn Galen had not approached his skill. He should not have underestimated their king for now he was going to have to make up lost ground. Focusing intently, he fired off arrows at a pace so fast that even elven eyes could scarcely follow him. He shot through the target seven times, an exceptional record. He matched Thranduil’s shot and added one more hit to the outer circle, achieving 210 points. Again, resounding cheers erupted from the spectators.

“Absolutely impressive,” Thranduil praised enthusiastically. “I would like to try to find you a wife here in Eryn Galen. One that does not care to move to Lothlorien.”

His opponent and the other guards laughed at that as the judges set up for the final round. The Lothlorien guard had the first turn. This time he hit only five times, but two of the shots went through the center circle and three through the second for a total of 220 points. The guard grinned broadly. “That is definitely a personal best.” He turned his horse to face Thranduil. “I think I have you, my lord.”

Thranduil smiled at him blandly and took his place on the field. Leaning forward to speak into the twitching ears of his mount momentarily, Thranduil motioned to the judges that he was ready. They set the target in motion. One of the skills required for this game, when it is played on horseback, is controlling the horse so that it does not outpace or underpace the target. Staying even with the target’s progress makes hitting the center circle considerably easier, but controlling a horse’s speed while both hands are occupied with a bow can be difficult. The spectators watched in silence as horse and rider kept perfect pace with the target. The horse actually appeared to be watching to the side, following the target as he ran. Thusly squared off with the target, Thranduil easily hit it five times—each time driving his arrow through the center circle, a performance worth 250 points.

Throughout the game, more and more spectators had been gathering along the field to watch their relatively new king and this very worthy opponent from Lothlorien. When the king finished his final turn, the spectators roared. The blonde Lothlorien guard urged his mount onto the field and he excitedly gripped Thranduil’s arm in a traditional warrior’s greeting.

“Mae carnen!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “I have never seen the equal!”

Thranduil returned his opponent’s greeting with equal vigor. “I had you at a disadvantage to be honest. This is my favorite game, but I have never faced such a fearsome opponent. What is your name, young one? You appear quite young still.”

The blonde elf from Lothlorien smiled. “I suppose I am. This is my first year with the guard. I am Haldir.“

“Well, Haldir, I am very glad you are an elf. I *never* want to face you in battle.”

“Nor I you,” Haldir laughed.

“Come have drink with me,” Thranduil said and leaning closer he added quietly. “Else I will never get off the field. I do not usually indulge in these games, but I simply could not pass up a match with you.”

Haldir allowed the King of Eryn Galen to lead him from the field, smiling. “I am honored, my lord.” He glanced at a group of ellyth approaching them. “I fear we will not avoid the press of admiring ladies by leaving the field, however.”

Thranduil looked at the ellyth and then at Haldir, thinking he should release the poor elf and allow him to enjoy the ladies’ attention. He laughed when he saw Haldir looked equally panicked.

“Why do they feel the need to fawn all over the elves who win these contests,” Haldir said nervously, picking up their pace. “It is almost enough to make you not want to win.”

Thranduil roared with laughter at that. “Here, I will show you. The easiest way to get rid of all but the most lost of them is to simply be very stern. It frightens them off.”

Thranduil and Haldir of Lorien enjoyed some wine and conversation…and the company of several completely enamored ellyth…for quite some time. Some of the ellyth set their sights on the presumably more attainable warden from Lothlorien, but most, as usually happened when Thranduil allowed himself to be drawn into these games, were fussing over the king. So for the second time that evening, Thranduil smiled and conversed in a friendly fashion with each of the ellyth and favored none of them in particular.

He cringed slightly as he saw one maiden join the fray--the one with dark hair, lovely gray eyes and delicate features. The one that had dragged him to dance earlier. Thranduil had always assumed she was Silvan, given her complexion, but she did not seem to have many friends among the Silvan elves. It did not matter. As beautiful as she was, Thranduil felt acutely uncomfortable around her. Again, she slid through the crowd around the king and took up a possessive stance at his side.

“That was amazing, my lord. I have never seen a score of 250 points in that game,” she purred, placing her hand on his arm.

Thranduil tensed and looked down at her with a puckered brow. The king was not one to back down, but he took an involuntary step away from the elleth’s hand before he was aware that he had done so. “Thank you, my lady. I do not believe I have ever obtained such a score. I was inspired by an outstanding opponent. Haldir, this is Marti. She is a weaver, I believe. Is that correct?”

Thranduil's attempt to distract the lady’s attention to a conversation with the Lothlorien guard was an abysmal failure. She never glanced at the elf that the king had introduced. Instead, she took another step towards the king, closing the distance between them again and this time entwining her arm around his. She stood much closer than necessary and looked into his eyes as she replied. “Indeed, my lord. I work with the queen in her workshop. Though it is merely a hobby...something I do for enjoyment. I would thoroughly enjoy making something for you, my lord, if you would like.”

Thranduil blinked at that offer. “Thank you, my lady, but my mother’s tapestries provide sufficient adornment of my chambers,” he said with an overtly icy tone. At the same time he freed his arm from her grasp and reached for a fresh goblet of wine. This he placed in her hands to occupy them. He heard Haldir laugh at that and looked over at him with a smirk.

“Tell me, my lady, do you like archery,” Haldir asked politely making conversation.

Again, Marti did not glance at him. Instead, she continued staring intently at the king. “I enjoy watching our king, for certain. You do not play at festival games nearly often enough, my lord, but you frequently practice on the range. I enjoy watching that.”

Thranduil looked at her sharply at that statement. It was obvious he had never been aware of having an audience.

“My archery skills are not so good," she continued. "Perhaps I could join you and you could give me some pointers.” As she said this, Marti put the goblet back on the table and this time twisted both hands around the king’s arm.

Thranduil stared at her a moment. “As king of this realm, Marti, I find very little time for giving archery lessons. I would be happy to arrange with our weapon’s master to provide you some lessons. If you will excuse me, I was about to introduce Haldir to my brother and mother.” Again, Thranduil extracted his person from Marti’s grasp. When he had, he took Haldir’s arm and steered him towards the High Table with a pleading look.

Haldir smothered a grin.

Much to Thranduil’s amazement and disgust, Marti followed them. “I have not spoken to the queen yet this evening, your majesty. If you do not mind, I will accompany you so that I might.”

“As you wish,” Thranduil replied quietly. He set a fast pace back to the High Table, Haldir laughing softly as they walked.

“Apparently being stern does not frighten them all off,” he said under his breath.

Thranduil grimaced. “I said all but the most lost. This one wanders without hope of finding her way. At the very least, I can assure you that she will never find her way to me.”

Haldir covered his mouth with his hand to stifle his laughter.

Thranduil led the warden from Lothlorien to the High Table and introduced him first to his mother and then to his brother. Aradunnon had seen the contest between Haldir and Thranduil and he eagerly challenged the Lothlorien guard to one himself. They were quickly off. Thranduil, kept his back to Marti, not caring how rude he was being, throughout their interchange. Afterwards, he attached himself to his mother. It was not difficult. She was smiling broadly at him.

“I suppose I cannot hug my son to show him how proud I am since he is king,” she said teasingly.

Thranduil produced the same smile all boys with over indulgent mothers display. “Naneth I can hardly refuse you,” he replied, walking into his mother’s embrace and thankful for the opportunity to completely abandon the elleth that had followed him back to the table.

“Well played, ion nin,” she whispered, kissing him briefly on the cheek as she released him. Thranduil looked at her and smirked.

“I shall refrain from kissing you, Thranduil, but that was indeed well played,” a somewhat sardonic voice behind him said.

Thranduil turned. It was Amglaur. He accepted the proffered hand. “Thank you, my lord. Your warden, Haldir, is a most worthy opponent. I thoroughly enjoyed that. I do not have anyone amongst my guards who could equal his skill. Most impressive.”

“Yes, it was impressive. You and I will have to have our own little contest one day while I am here,” Amglaur said quietly turning back to his wife.

Thranduil smirked at Amglaur, not eager to take his father’s place as his competitor, and moved to seat himself when he felt a soft touch on his arm. Lindomiel, he instantly realized. He smiled, but looked down. It had not been his intent to show off and he feared that might be the impression he had given.

“My adar is correct. That was impressive indeed,” she said quietly. “I thought your slaughter of the target in Lorien was good. This was much more so. Haldir is our best warrior and that game takes much more skill.”

Thranduil shrugged dismissively. “They are pleasant games, but I rarely play at festivals. I do not like the attention it focuses on me.”

“Yes, you do seem to attract quite a lot of attention,” she replied mischievously, looking sidelong at the dark-haired elleth who had been clamoring around him only a few moments ago. She had been pulled to the side by Dierneryn and was still eyeing Thranduil and glaring at Lindomiel.

Thranduil grimaced. “I do not solicit such attention,” he replied quietly. “How is your weaving coming, my lady?” he asked, changing the subject. “You should try to find the time to work with my naneth a bit while you are here. She loves weaving. I am sure she would enjoy it.”

Lindomiel smiled at him, amused by his reticence to discuss the contest or the ellyth. “I will,” she agreed and continued to pursue that topic of conversation. She did not, however, fail to notice the jealous looks cast at her.

Thranduil stayed the rest of the evening at the High Table conversing with his guests. The horizon was glowing with the first rays of the sun when the festivities were finally drawing to a close, Amglaur rose from the table, joined by his wife and daughter. As a courtesy, Thranduil rose as well.

“I fear I simply cannot last until dawn, Thranduil. The ride here took too much out of me.” Amglaur said, excusing himself.

Thranduil gave him a genuine smile. “I would never have managed to stay this late if I had been traveling. I will tell the servants to leave you alone and keep some breakfast aside for you. After you have rested, perhaps you would like to come find me in my office and I can give you a bit of a tour?”

Amglaur smirked at him. “I have been here often enough, Thranduil. As has my wife. But I am sure Lindomiel will join you. Will you not, iell nin?”

Lindomiel tried not to look too happy about this opportunity for some time alone with the king. “Certainly. If you can find the time in your schedule.”

“I am certain I can, my lady,” he said quietly as her parents began to walk away. She smiled at him warmly and followed them.

*~*~*~*~*

AN: Marti, a quenyan name from marto--Q. Fate

*~*~*~*~*

Mae govannen--Well met
Ernil--Prince
Gil síla erin lu e-govaded vín--A star shines upon the hour of our meeting.
Aran--King
muindor nin--my brother
Mae carnen--Well done.
Naneth/nana--Mother/mum
Elleth/ellyth--Female elf(s)
Ion nin--my son
Adar/ada--Father/dad
Iell nin--my daughter