Chapter 19: The Banquet

The Mirkwood four stood in front of the large wooden doors that lead into the great hall, framed by the shadows of the day that was being consumed in the darkness of night. Laurenor and Legolas wore moss colored tunics of spun of the finest silk. The edges of the collar and cuffs were thickly threaded with lining of fine mithril. The same mithril threading was used to form the patterns that were embroidered onto the front of the tunics in a delicate rendering of vines and leafs. The buttons that ran down the fonts of the tunics were similarly mad of mithril that had embedded in the center sparkling emeralds. The buttons were clasped by loops of mithril threading that extended from the adjoining front of the tunic. The richness of the fabrics and materials used to make the tunics could easily have rendered the clothing gaudy, but the refined workmanship and simplicity of the design instead created a demure but stunning creation.

Laurenor and Legolas opted to forego the usual cotton shirting worn beneath tunics, and rather chose to leave their chests exposed, although not completely, under the tunic. They accompanied the tunics with leggings of velvet which were the same color as their tunics but shaded darker. No braids decorated their heads, and instead decided to wear their hair loose decorated only by fine circlets crafted of mithril, one donned upon dark and the other upon gold hair.

The two shone as if the very light of Isil had been poured upon them.

Aní and his father, Erutunín, chose to wear less opulent clothing, but nonetheless stunning. Their clothing also followed the color pallet chosen by Lotórie. Their tunics were of the same dark moss coloring as the leggings of Legolas and Laurenor, whilst their leggings were of the lighter color of the brothers’ tunics. Mithril threading was also embroidered upon their tunics, but the buttons were made of the material of the tunics as were the loops that held the buttons in place. Regardless of their less opulent dress, the two remained a site to be seen.

Elven maids were busily taking items from the hall foyer outside towards the feast area, the large gated doors that guarded the cave palace, positioned in an open position until all preparations were readied. As shadow was in danger of being too near and present in Mirkwood, all that was needed to slam the keep doors shut was a thought from its woodland king. But on this fine evening none such thoughts were needed, and Mirkwood could breathe easy for the peace they enjoyed.

The doors that lead into the great hall inside the cave palace opened slowly, and the Mirkwood four that stood bathed in gray light, were met with a cascade of light that poured from the opening doors. To the maidens that witnessed the scene it was as if the light of the two trees had suddenly been reborn and was cascading out the open doors, at least they imagined the light of the two trees would contain such brilliance. But what caused their very breath to escape their bodies in gasps was the effect the light had upon the four elves that stood with the light behind them. The opulence of the mithril caught the light and exploded forth with a brilliance like that of a silver dawn, and crowning the silver vision was the golden head of their tallest prince. If anyone doubted that the moon had indeed slipped down upon the earth, this scene of glittering figures and light left none to doubt that.

The Mirkwood four stood standing, proud and erect, their heads held high. Somehow, Thranduil who was entering the great hall thought to himself that this grand entrance staged by the four was no mistake. No doubt was left in his mind when he glanced at his sons whose smiles were demurely set and being granted to the maidens that stood and gawked. Thranduil noted that Erutunín and Aní behaved no less boldly, framing their handsome faces in like graces.

Thranduil stood next to his sons and curiosity begged him to turn around to gather the looks of the audience that had gathered in his foyer. To all those who were gathered the magnificence of their king as he turned towards them was truly revealed as the light cascaded off his golden hair which was decorated with a crown of silvery flowers. The long robe that gathered around Thranduil’s strong frame, flickered in like, the light reflecting off the shimmering silk, a light moss green fabric that was spun of a silk and mithril thread. Thranduil wore a velvet tunic of verdant green which had clasps of mithril running down the front, no emeralds decorated these buttons. Simple moss colored leggings completed the outfit.

Legolas caught the newly inspired gasps and whispers that emanated from his audience and with a smirk on his face he glanced at his father who stood gloriously for all his peoples to see. Thranduil acted with intent, and he was letting his children, the four of them know that when it came to inspiring awe he was still king.

Thranduil caught his sons smirk and replied in kind, mentally sharing a thought with Legolas, *Although you stand the tallest of all of us my son, I am still the king, and as such I must make sure that one and all alike do not forget this.*

Legolas responded silently in kind, *Adar, you leave no doubt that you are King.* And with these words, Legolas looped his arm around his father’s and stood proudly, not the least bit embarrassed by the admiring looks that many maidens were unabashedly sharing with the now Mirkwood five.

Indeed to all that gathered in that place, they were drawn to the brilliance of the edhil , much like the Quendi were drawn to the blessed light that shone from the countenance of Oromë, who appeared before them during their waking moments on Arda, mounted on his steed of lim celevon named Nahar. (1)

The female Mirkwood four appeared in the foyer and were greeted by the grand site of their males, standing like gilded statutes in all their glory. Rainiel let out an unfeminine snort, “By the Valar, these males have not the slightest humble bone in them.” But she stared admiringly at her husband whose dark hair framed his fair face, and her Aní looked quite the adult he was. Rainiel sighed, although Aní was 567 years old, she always thought of him as her elfling, and here that elfling was splendidly displaying his masculinity and no doubt his intense sexual maturity. While she smiled at her husband, Rainiel scowled at her son’s display, but not even her dagger-like frown could dissuade her son from basking in the fire of his many admirers.

Istawen spoke what many in the room silently felt, “It is as if I were walking amongst the Quendi and first beheld the light of Tauron and Nahar, shining silver in the night.” (2) Her eyes locked with her husbands, and Laurenor’s smile grew wicked as he noted the fire of desire flicker in his wife’s eyes. But Istawen held firm, *Not tonight meleth nin . Tonight you shall taste your own pride.*

Laurenor noted that along with desire, his wife’s eyes danced with a naughty defiance, prompting his brow to cock in a challenge which was met by Istawen’s equally dazzling smile.

Lenmana could not help but gasp herself at the sight of the five elves gathered in the light that spilt from the great hall. She wondered if this was why the Spanish had so hungered for gold and silver, to harness its light. But in all her experiences never before had she seen such a splendid light of silver accented with gold that seemed to breathe from the very bodies of men. Yet these were not simple men, they were of the leaf.

Thranduil ended the grand display, announcing that all should gather in the forest clearing to commence the banquet.

As the crowd made its way out towards the clearing, Thranduil was greeting two guests that had appeared from the guest quarters located in talans near the forested hill that held the palace in its belly. Lenmana noticed that Thranduil embraced the two elves warmly, and interacted with them in intimate manner that suggested they were more than simple emissaries. The two dark-haired guests were then greeted heartily by Laurenor and Aní.

“And you know that Elrond’s sons would be present tonight,” Istawen whispered to Rainiel.

Rainiel’s brow arched as only a child of Thranduil could manage, and replied, “Yes, I had received the message from Adar only hours before that Elladan and Elrohir would be arriving in time for the feast. I believe this is why our beloved husbands, sons and brothers were conspiring in a circle of intrigue. Surely they plan to embarrass and best the twins for all their past follies.”

“‘Tis why you asked if Adar was involved in the scheming,” Istawen correctly deduced.

“Yes, if he were involved then all of Arda’s fury would be loosed tonight, and we would stand no chance for enjoying a quiet evening, but as I now see he is not involved in any of this spriteful folly, my hopes for getting our fairer schemes into the games that are at hand is assured.”

Lenmana listened intently and looked at the two guests that were being greeted heartily by Erutunín and Legolas. So these two identical twins were Elladan and Elrohir. Their hair was quite dark when compared to the children of Thranduil

Rainiel headed over towards Elladan and Elrohir as Legolas and her husband departed, bestowing the twins with warm hugs of welcome. The three engaged in light conversation before Rainiel pursued the heart of the matter, “Let me quickly guide this conversation to what both of you know and hope is in play for this evening.”

The twins glanced at each other, sharing impish grins that caused them to sparkle with devilish delight. They turned their attention to Rainiel and simultaneously bowed their heads for her to continue.

“It seems that my husband, brothers and son have some clandestine plans in the works for the likes of you two which ought bring me much amusement, but as is their custom, these games will obviously cost me much more pain and anger than I am willing to grace them with. I am of a group of ladies who wishes to see the archers on the receiving ends of the arrows, and we very much wish to let loose our frustrations. Will you aid us?”

Elladan and Elrohir laughed and looked upon Rainiel, a friend too dear and beautiful to deny.

Elladan acquiesced, “Rainiel, you know we would never deny one of your requests or acting in a way that would bring you joy…”

“With the exception being the scoundrel you married, that Erutunín,” Elrohir quipped.

Rainiel snorted amusedly, “Dearest Elrohir, although my husband grew up with you in Imladris, I was won over by his charm that I found more Silvan and worthy of an heir of Thranduil.”

Elrohir pretended to be slighted by Rainiel’s words, and clasped his chest, feigning a blow to the heart, “My heart cannot withstand the arrows you carelessly throw my way. My intentions with you were of the purest sort.”

With these words Rainiel snorted indecorously, “Your intentions, Elrohir, were pure, purely born out of lust and want.”

Elladan intervened in the conversation, “Of which I remind you Rainiel, you were of like in kind that is until you met Erutunín.”

Elrohir dawned a look of disgust and spat out in mock disgust, “I forever curse the day we invited him to come along to Mirkwood.”

“And I forever bless the moment you did and that he accepted,” Rainiel spoke with honey dripped words.

Although Rainiel and Elrohir had once fallen to sharing in the elven pursuits of carnal delight with one another, their relationship was one formed in pure friendship, and both were delighted when the light of love bound their good friend Erutunín to Rainiel. Much had been shared between Imladris and Mirkwood, much more than simple friendships and alliances.

Elladan continued, “Ah yes, Erutunín is more Silvan than we would like, how else would that explain him frolicking about in those caves you silly wood elves frequent.”

The trio laughed heartily, and Rainiel’s laughter rang above the tenors of the twins, sounding silvery and songful as it graced its way towards her husband.

Laurenor, who was standing next to Erutunín, had not missed how the trio was immersed in what seemed to be a lighthearted but intent driven conversation. “Are you as bothered as I am to see my sister shamelessly flirting with Elladan, and especially, might I add, Elrohir?”

Erutunín could not help the red that rose in his warm face and replied somewhat dryly, “Your sister does know how to raise my temperature, but I would be behaving like a silly elfling to allow her actions to cause me to become jealous. And I know Elrohir delights in it. Look, see how he glances over at us, at me ever so haughtily?”

Legolas who had been silent in the conversation between married elves, joined in, “The challenge is set and we shall respond in kind. And of your concerns Aní, that we would infuriate your mother?”

Aní was also looking over towards the trio, and was becoming more and more bothered by Elrohir’s playful twirling of his mother’s hair. He added with much fire in his tone, “Matters not.”

Rainiel felt the gaze of her husband and company, “It seems we have caused the fire to burn mightily. I am most thankful that you have set aside your plans for this evening and will be helping the elven maidens of Mirkwood.”

Elladan and Elrohir bowed in am exaggeratedly reverent manner, and Elrohir took Rainiel’s hand and laid a gentle but lingering kiss on her hand. As he rose to stand, he turned to look at the group of elves that were throwing daggers his way with their eyes and greeted them in the traditional elven manner. But his eyes danced with impish delight and his coy smile spoke volumes to the Mirkwood four.

The guests and hosts wandered over to their tables, Elrohir and Elladan sitting with Thranduil and his family under the large beech tree that was graced with the twig chandeliers of light. The elves settled comfortably, sitting on the plush pillows that were strewn about on the earth, readied for the feasting ahead.

Elladan shared a thought with his hosts, mirth clearly tainting his otherwise serious tone, “I had forgotten that our wood elf kin delight in sitting on the ground, upon a multitude of pillows. If I may suggest King Thranduil, maybe a more *proper* banquet of chairs on tables is called for?”

Thranduil snorted and hardily slapped Elladan on the back, with enough force to cause Elladan to cough, “Well said Elrondion, and may your memory not abandon you on your next visit to my kingdom. We have particular dungeons that are mighty useful in refreshing one’s memories.”

Elladan raised his hands, motioning defeat, “My king, I do not wish to have any sort of refreshing. I actually really enjoy sitting on the ground outdoors.”

“Yes,” Elrohir interjected, “I sometimes find that my brother secretly wishes he were a wood elf.”

Elladan replied, “Yes my brother, your words are not entirely false, but I may make the same observation of you. Do you not also harbor a secret desire to be as a wood elf?”

“Or in one,” Legolas smugly replied, eyes dead set on Elrohir.

The table fell silent and all eyes focused on Elrohir and Legolas whose eyes were locked in what seemed a challenge of egos. Erutunín was the only one making a sound as he was choking back the wine he threatened to spit out. Rainiel’s mouth fell open as she understood the double-meaning in Legolas’ words, but surely he was not that thick-headed to imply that Elrohir…

Elrohir broke the silence, “Legolas, an elf after my own heart.” An impish grin spread across his face and Legolas in turn burst out laughing. Rainiel shook her head in frustration. These elves and their double edged words drove all crazy. When a seeming intent was meant, it was obvious between the two that shared the verbal sparring that something otherwise was intended.

Laurenor interrupted the exchange, “Elrohir, you are the only other elf that I know that is as fond of female wood elves as my muindor tithen .”

“Here, here,” Legolas shouted and he and Elrohir lifted up wooden goblets filled with wine, and drank to their shared pastime.

With these merry words, the minstrels broke out in song and the candles that graced the twig chandeliers burst into flame. The feasting had commenced.

Lenmana who was seated at the main table with Thranduil’s family, took in the entirety of the feast, from the décor to the battles of wit that the male elves engaged in. She was seated towards the end of the table, between Aní and Lotórie. Aní himself was seated next to Legolas, who sat across from Elrohir. As none seemed to take notice of her, Lenmana decided to thoroughly enjoy her meal, duck and quail, with garnishing of berry sauce. The berries used in the sauce were seasonal and extremely rare, a treat for all to enjoy.

As she was devouring a piece of meat, Lenmana felt eyes fixed on her. She slowly looked up from her tasteful task and found two sets of identical eyes studying her.

“Legolas,” Elladan called out, “you have failed to mention that there is another guest joining us tonight.”

Legolas looked up from his own ministrations with his meal, and caught what Elladan was referring to and Elrohir was studying with his eyes.

“Did Aní not introduce you to our guest,” Legolas asked, throwing an accusatory glance towards Aní who was paying no mind to the conversation. In fact his eyes were closed and he was moaning slightly from his utter enjoyment of the food he was ferociously consuming.

Legolas shook his head, “It seems my nephew is enraptured with the meal tonight. Please forgive his oversight.”

Legolas turned towards Lenmana who had tidied herself by wiping her mouth and hands clean of the delectable berry sauce. “Elladan and Elrohir, allow me to introduce you to our guest, Lenmana, daughter of Chu-si.”

“And Benjamin,” Lotórie added.

Lenmana smiled and nodded at the elves whose gaze was as identical as their features.

Elladan and Elrohir responded in kind, with Elladan beginning, “I am Elladan, and this is my brother Elrohir-“

“Sons of Elrond Peredhil, Lord of Imladris,” Elrohir finished.

The two added, “It is with great honor that we greet and make your acquaintance this evening.”

Legolas interrupted the greetings, “Alas, our guest does not speak our tongue, and from what I have gathered only understands words here and there. I am afraid we are locked away from each other.”

Elrohir glanced at Elladan. “Yes,” Elladan replied, “Mithrandir informed us of your most unusual guest, but we were under the impression that she was able to communicate…”

Rainiel interrupted, “Oh yes but only visually, and with much care, but no words are exchanged.”

“Oh,” Elladan and Elrohir cooed in unison, looking at each other, a hint of mirth present in their eyes.

Legolas eyes furrowed in confusion as something in the exchange caused him to feel somewhat unsettled, as if a much needed kernel of knowledge was being deliberately kept from him. But as he looked at the twins, they were smiling and nodding at Lenmana, and she was smiling and nodding at them. He must have been mistaken, Legolas thought to himself, and refocused on the delicatessen set out before him.

***

(1) The Silmarillion describes how the first of the Vala, Oromë, appeared before the newly awoken elves, or the Quendi on his mount named Nahar: “for the light of Aman was in his face, and all the noblest of the Elves were drawn towards it” (1977: 47).

(2) Tauron is the Sindar name of Oromë.