Chapter 11 – Feast

Arandur felt the door close behind him though he did not turn around to confirm it. He quickly walked away from Rhinure’s chambers, appalled at what had happened. How could he have attacked her like that? He knew he was lucky to have kept his head – maybe Rhinure was right, maybe he had been spending too much time with the Wood-elves.

He had served Thranduil well, to the utmost of his capabilities, as he had been ordered to. After almost 2000 years in the King’s service, he had even formed a begrudging bond of respect with the Sindar. However, Rhinure’s presence reminded him of how different he was from the rest of the elves.

As he passed through the corridors, ignoring the guards and servants alike, he realised that he wished to return to his people. He would have requested Rhinure to replace him but he doubted she would listen to him. She would probably insist that he stay – if only to spite him.

He was so pre-occupied that he missed Herenion standing in the shadows, watching him walk away.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Herenion’s eyes narrowed as he watched Arandur leave Rhinure’s room. His elven senses screamed that the Captain was troubled – more than Herenion had ever seen him. Herenion debated whether to stay at Rhinure’s door or follow Arandur. He chose the latter option, intrigued at Arandur’s abnormal behaviour.

Arandur passed the soldiers standing at the entrance of the ellyth’s Quarter. One of them was clearly thinking of something else – though his body remained at attention, his face had a faraway, lost look about it.

Would Arandur notice, Herenion wondered.

“Lieutenant, if you cannot follow orders, maybe I should have you removed.” Arandur noticed – and was plainly unhappy. “Maybe someone else would like to take your post?” Arandur’s voice was almost silky in its courtesy. Herenion could not help but wince in sympathy when the young elf literally quaked under his Captain’s scrutiny.

Whatever Rhinure had done to him, Arandur had not lost any of his presence. “Pay attention to what you are doing. Smarten up, or I will do it for you.”

“Yes sir.” The young soldier, almost stammering in relief at being let off with a verbal reprimand only.

Rhinure must have really shaken up Arandur – if he was not punishing the guard any further.

*~ Legolas must be told of this. ~* Herenion slipped away, unnoticed by Arandur or the other guards.

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Legolas waited impatiently for Herenion in his chambers. Today, not even his bow could distract him from his troubles. He spun around when he heard someone enter his chambers. His nerves were stretched to their limit.

“Well?” Legolas anxiously questioned Herenion, as the older elf slowly entered the room.

“You were correct, he did go to see her.” Herenion fell silent, trying to formulate the best response.

“And?”

“It was not a long conversation, he could not have been there for more than ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”

“Good, he cannot have told her much in that time.” Legolas nodded, sinking into his chair, satisfied for now. He had been worried about Arandur and Rhinure spending too much time together.

“What did you expect him to tell her?”

“Nothing, everything. I really do not know.” Legolas clasped his hands together, frowning vaguely. He was not ready to express his fears to Herenion at the moment. It was very likely that Arandur was a spy for the Avari – except that he had been in Mirkwood’s service for generations. A spy would have slipped up by now – unless he was truly superb. In Arandur’s case, Legolas could not rule out any option.

If Arandur was a spy – then Rhinure probably had detailed information about Mirkwood’s capabilities, defences and weaknesses. Normally, that would not have bothered Legolas – after all Rhinure and her people were elves, and therefore trustworthy. However, this was hardly a normal situation - it bothered Legolas, it worried him no end.

He did not trust Rhinure, she was Avari. And more importantly, he knew nothing about her – Thranduil had blithely asserted that the Avari had the required numbers to help protect Mirkwood, but that did not tell Legolas anything. Until he learned better, he would treat Rhinure with suspicion and keep her in the dark. It was best if dubious characters like her were not treated with complete honesty.

“It is best that we keep an eye on him.” Legolas finally said. There was no clear plan for him to follow – he was wary of Rhinure but she was going to be his wife and ally. He should have faith in her, but he could not. Thoughts like this led him nowhere. Legolas decided that patience was the most prudent course of action.

“You do not trust him, do you?” Herenion asked.

“Really? Whatever gave you that idea?” Legolas asked sarcastically.

Herenion grinned, “Oh, the fact that you had me spying outside my Princess’ door, gave me some clue.”

“She is not your princess.” Legolas’ retort was instinctive.

“Yet.”

Legolas could not answer that. Silence once more fell across the room.

“What did you think of her?”  Herenion asked curiously.

Legolas thought about the question. He was not sure what to make of Rhinure, her motives. His feelings could just be prejudice; Legolas was truthful enough to admit that to himself. After all, he knew nothing about this maiden – she genuinely could be helpful and kind. As soon as the thought had crossed his mind, he had to suppress a snort of derision. Such naivety would not do in a prince.

“She is different.” Legolas finally answered.

“That she is, whatever happened in her room, left Arandur quite shaken.”

“How can you tell?” Legolas asked, genuinely curious – the Captain was notoriously difficult to read.

“Arandur did not see me spying. Normally, he would have me pinned against the wall for such presumption.”

Legolas knew this to be true – the last Elf that had spied on Arandur had ended up at the Healer’s Hall. “So she can break through his armour. That is interesting – very interesting. I wonder how she did it?” Legolas fell silent, thinking of his bride-to-be.

Herenion waited impatiently, hoping to get more of a personal insight from his charge. Finally, he could not take it anymore, “Is that all you can say? What do you think of her? Does she please you? Do you think you will be happy with her? At least tell me if you find her pretty?” Legolas’ closemouthed attitude was beginning to irritate Herenion.

“I think she cannot be trusted either. She had an agenda of her own.” That was the only answer Legolas was prepared to give at this point.

“That is to be expected, after all she is the ruler of her people. To anticipate that she will not to look out for them is folly.”

“Ruler? I thought she was a princess.” Legolas looked puzzled.

“From what Thranduil can gather, the Avari do not have royalty as we do. However, Rhinure is the closest thing they have to a ruler.”

“Closest thing?”

“She is called their Sacrifice. It does not sound like a position of authority to me, but . . .” Herenion trailed off – it did not have be said that they knew very little of the Avari

“Sacrifice? I wonder . . .” Legolas fell silent, chewing over this morsel of information. What did it mean?

“Maybe you can ask her.” Herenion suggested.

“Ask her what?” Legolas looked up distractedly.

“Ask her about her title. Ask her about her people.”

“She would not answer me truthfully.” Legolas was sure of that – Rhinure struck him as a very closemouthed person.

“How can you be so sure? You have known her for only five minutes.” Herenion could not help retorting, though he knew that Legolas had hit on the truth of the matter.

“I just am.”

Herenion was very tempted to roll his eyes, but refrained because he could see that Legolas was being serious. “It does not matter, you should just talk to her.”

“And why would I want to do that?” Legolas inquired – very politely.

“Because she is going to be your wife!”

“And I am trying my utmost to forget that for as long as possible.” Legolas waved Herenion to be silent, as he massaged his temple.

“Did you dislike her that much, little one?” Herenion asked gently.

“I really cannot say, I do not know her,” Legolas paused, unsure how to put his feeling into words, which would not upset his old friend even further. “She makes me uneasy, she is so still and so silent.” Legolas weakly ended.

“Sounds like Arandur.”

“It is probably an Avari trait.”

“Well, I am certain that you will be able to bring her out of her shell.”

Legolas smiled, Herenion’s confidence in him was heartening – but he knew that it was not going to be as simple.

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The evening found Legolas dressing for another feast that Thranduil had decided to throw – this time in honour on Lady Rhinure. Legolas could only wonder how the palace staff actually managed to get everything ready in time.

Legolas stifled a sigh; this was going to be another long evening.

He smoothed the pale green tunic he was wearing, even if he was not looking forward to the evening it did not mean that he could afford to be careless with his appearance. What he wore, the amount of effort he put into it – were all signs of the respect he held for the Lords of the Kingdom. It was a matter of politeness that he be presentable.

He put on his crown – the slender silver almost getting lost in his gold hair. The symbol of his royalty – Legolas stared at it. It was not often he wore the Heir’s crown; it felt alien on his head, like he had stolen something from his father. With another suppressed sigh he headed towards Rhinure’s rooms. It was his duty to escort his betrothed to Hall and present her to the assembled company.

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Rhinure’s door opened before Legolas could knock on it. Ehtewen greeted him with a “You are late.”

“Yes, well, I was momentarily delayed.”             *~ By the thought of how awkward this evening is going to be. ~*

“My Lady is waiting for you.”

Legolas gratefully entered, Ehtewen made him uneasier that Rhinure did – if that was possible. She reminded him of a female Arandur, which was a very disconcerting thought.

“My Lady, I am to escort you . . .” The rest of the words died on Legolas’ lips.

“Is anything the matter, my Lord?” Rhinure asked.

“No . . . of course not, I was just taking in your appearance.” Legolas covered for his lapse.

“Does it meet with your approval?”

How to answer that?

Rhinure was wearing a black dress for the feast. It was almost stark in its simplicity. There was no decoration or pattern worked on the dress; it was just a long piece of black silk. It was very simple, something to be worn on a funeral – or a battlefield, Legolas thought, as he took in her stance.

Her hair was pulled back into the bun and she wore nothing in her hair. It made her face seem paler than it was, almost drawn. It was a utilitarian costume – and though Rhinure showed no uneasiness, Legolas got the distinct impression that she was not comfortable in the dress. Or it could be that she was not comfortable with the way he was looking at her – in shock. All Legolas could think of was that she was going to look like a raven among the Lords and Ladies.

The only ornament she wore were three silver rings on her right hand. Slender chains connected them to a silver bracelet on her wrist. It was an intriguing piece of jewellery and Legolas wondered why she had bothered with it at all.

Then he noticed the rest of her Guard, they all wore similar rings and bracelets on their right hands. Ehtewen had three rings as well, while the elves had two. It was clearly not meant to be an ornament.

Morion’s discreet cough, made Legolas realise that Rhinure was still waiting for an answer.

“My Lady, you will be the most striking Lady at the feast.” 

*~ And not in a pleasant way. ~*

Rhinure raised an eyebrow – Legolas knew that she was not fooled by the compliment. She truly did not seem to care about what she looked like.

“I think we should be leaving now, my lady. My father will be waiting for us.” Legolas offered Rhinure his arm, which she took.

As the started to move, all three of her Guard started to follow. Legolas shook his head, “I am sorry, but you cannot come. The King does not allow armed guards in the Hall.”

Rhinure’s eyes narrowed, “They will not be seen.”

“Nevertheless, I cannot permit to come with them.”

Legolas could see the other three Avari straighten, ever so slightly, at the implied command.

“You will have a First Guard?” Rhinure asked

“First Guard?” Legolas asked, confused.

“A … bodyguard?” Rhinure had to pause for a second to find the right Sindarin word.

Legolas nodded, Herenion would never have allowed Legolas to leave his chambers unless a bodyguard accompanied him.

“Then my First Guard will come as well.”

Legolas was tempted to argue, but looking at Rhinure’s determined eyes and Ehtewen’s dangerous ones, he knew it was useless to argue. He could argue that only royalty were allowed to have bodyguards in the Hall, but he realised that would only reinforce Rhinure’s argument. After all, she was also royalty – or would be very soon.

“As you wish, my Lady.”

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As Legolas predicted, Rhinure created quite a stir at the feast. Most were shocked at her appearance, and the other few were disgusted. The minority were also the ones who knew what an Avari was.

Rhinure, however, was indifferent to the stares of the elves around her. She proudly walked across the hall and as Legolas seated her at the King’s right hand, he could only wonder at her composure.

As he took his seat next to her, he noticed Arandur standing in his usual place behind the King. He too wore the three rings and the bracelet, in exactly the same fingers Rhinure wore them on.

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As Legolas had predicted, the feast was an uncomfortable one for everyone involved. Legolas had caught many a shocked glance fall on Rhinure and Ehtewen. It seemed as if the Wood-elves were slowly beginning to comprehend how different their new princess was from them.

Legolas tried to engage her in conversation, but neither he nor Rhinure were particularly interested in talking.  “Did you like the food, my Lady?”

“It was well-made.”

“Do you like Mirkwood?”

“I have not seen much of it, but it seems pleasant from what I can tell.”

 Other meaningless questions were asked back and forth – until Legolas gave up. If she wanted to eat in silence then he would more than happy to oblige.

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After the food was cleared, the guests moved onto the adjoining room. Though it was primarily a dance hall, it was being used today as a casual standing area. It allowed Rhinure the opportunity to mingle amongst the nobles. As Legolas escorted her round the room, he could only hope that there would not be an incident.

He was partially vindicated in his hope. Most of the questions were predictable, as were the answers. No one actually dared to ask her anything more than how her journey was and ended by welcoming her to Mirkwood. Her face was forbidding without overtly being so – Legolas was very tempted to ask her how she did that, but he did not want to condone what he considered rudeness.

Then they passed by Lady Minuial. Legolas had to admit that she looked stunning in her pale pink dress. Her cheeks were rosy and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. Legolas smiled appreciatively and she very prettily blushed.

Rhinure watched Legolas watch Lady Minuial. She would have found it amusing how her betrothed stared at this she-elf; that is, if Lady Minuial had not decided to question Rhinure.

“Welcome, Lady Rhinure.” Lady Minuial happily said.

“Thank you.”

“You are very lucky … to have caught Legolas. Many a female have tried and failed miserably.”

“Obviously, they should have tried harder.” Rhinure’s response was non-committal, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Minuial. If she felt that Legolas was a ‘catch’ she was entitled to her opinion – no matter what Rhinure personally thought.

Lady Minuial stumbled over Rhinure’s answer, not knowing whether to take it as a teasing comment or not. Rhinure seemed to be serious – did she really believe that Legolas could have been caught, like an animal?

“Yes … well …” Lady Minuial’s eye fell upon Ehtewen and she did a double take.

“Is that your bodyguard?” Lady Minuial asked doubtfully.

“Yes.”

“But … but … she’s female!” Lady Minuial took as hasty step back, afraid to be near Ehtewen. She scrupulously avoided touching the First Guard with any portion of her dress. It was as if she was afraid, that the slightest of touches would permanently soil her. 

“And?” Rhinure did not miss the way Lady Minuial shrank back – she doubted that anyone in the room had missed the action.

Legolas could sense the impatience in that answer, even if Minuial could not.

“And … it is unnatural. A woman wielding a blade, dressing up in a tunic. It is disgusting,” Lady Minuial spluttered, not seeing the warning in Rhinure’s eyes. She did not notice the way Rhinure pulled her body even straighter. She blithely lectured Rhinure on the impropriety of having ellyth wielding weapons.

Legolas winced as he felt Rhinure freeze.

“I would be careful before making statements like that in front of a person with a blade. Ehtewen is very capable it … no matter how unnatural it may be.” Rhinure’s voice was deceptively polite, but even Lady Minuial could not mistake the threat in it.

 Her eyes widened in horror as she stared at Rhinure.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, my Lady. I hope to repeat the experience … soon.”

With that Rhinure started walking off, she would have let go of Legolas’ arm if he had not held on to it. She looked at him when he kept her arm in his grasp. She had the most black eyes Legolas had ever seen; they almost seemed to have no iris. They smouldered with such a cold flame that Legolas could feel himself corrode. It was the only indication that Rhinure was furious at the insult. Her face remained smooth.

If Legolas had bothered to glance at Ehtewen’s face, he would have seen the same expressionless face. However, there was no mistaking her anger either if one looked at her eyes.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas wearily stumbled into his chambers – it had been a longer evening that he had expected. All he wanted to do was collapse onto his bed, and forget this entire evening.

However, Herenion was making it difficult by insisting on making comments about the feast. “What ever possessed Lady Rhinure to wear a black dress? People were unsure about her as it is, and now it is even worse.”

Legolas raised his face from the pillow he had buried it in, “Maybe she does not care.”

“Well she should, she is going to be their princess.”

“And how do you propose that she ingratiate herself?”

“Well, for a start she could smile a little more.”

Legolas could not agree more; it was disconcerting talking to someone who never smiled. Even after years of experience with Arandur, he was still not used to it. It was much worse in a she-elf – especially a she-elf he was going marry.

“Did you see her eyes after Lady Minuial finished her ill-omened observation?” Herenion’s observation broke through his musings.

Legolas groaned; he really did not want to think of that scene again.

“I really though she was going to cry insult and slice Lady Minuial’s head.”

“Whom are you talking about?” Legolas finally asked, he had clearly missed some of the conversation.

“The Lady’s bodyguard, Ehtewen.”

“You were concerned about Ehtewen hurting Lady Minuial? I was afraid I would have to restrain Rhinure.”

“No little Elfing, Lady Rhinure would never bother striking Lady Minuial. It would be a waste of her time. She more than adequately dealt with Minuial as it is. Ilúvatar, I have never seen a more vicious tongue than on your lady.”

“You sound as if you admire her.”

“At least, she can handle herself. Would you have preferred her to weep or cling to you?”

As unlikely as that seemed – Legolas could not imagine Rhinure weeping – he had to agree, a clingy Rhinure would have been a lot worse.

Maybe.

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