Mary Goes to Mirkwood

Mary Goes to Mirkwood

Chapter Eleven/?

Co-Authors: Mary A & Malinorne

Disclaimer: We are just playing with Tolkien's characters for fun, not profit. We do not claim to have created any of them. Thaladir, the king's seneschal, is our own creation.

Summary: Mal and Mary are wined, dined, and sung to.

Warning: Naughty under the table touching.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mary ~

Having my own room was marvelous. I took off the red sparkling dress and hung it away carefully in the wardrobe. Before exploring further, I put on my tee-shirt and jeans and felt comfortable at last.

The large sing ing closet revealed a few surprises. I ran my hands over another new gown hanging within, a purple one, and thought about how the king had said he only wanted me to wear scarlet. Apparently he had changed his mind.

There were a few nightgowns in there, made of some type of white cottony material. Not sexy at all. I disregarded them. More interesting was a long, fringed shawl that was made from an ivory-colored silky fabric, with cream colored fringe along the edge of the v-shaped back. It was cut straight across the top and obviously made to wear over the shoulders.

Chuckling, but touched, I held it up and admired it. I knew exactly what it was for and why it was there. The king had read my mind that morning when I was looking for something to cover the unfastened back of my gown. I put it on over my tee-shirt. It was the perfect length and it felt as lovely as it looked.

I sashayed out into the bedchamber, making the fringe sway to-and-fro as I walked, and ran my hand over the embroidery on the coverlet on my bed. There were no carvings on the smooth, rounded surfaces of the wooden bedposts but they had been polished with wax and rubbed to a high gloss. Unlike the king's sleeping room, mine had no extra furniture beyond a small table beside the bedstead, which held a candle.

A soft knock at the door interrupted my exploration, and Miriel, holding towels over her arm, and a small package in her hand, entered the room. She was gracefully balancing a basin and pitcher on top of everything, which I took from her and placed on the table next to the bed. She glided around the room, placing the small package she was carrying on top of the bed, putting the towels down next to it, and then pouring water into the basin.

The efficient elleth removed some items from her apron pockets, such as a hairbrush and bar of soap. After I washed my face and hands, I sat on the edge of the bed while she fixed my hair. I had never seen her happier. I think she liked having me to herself in my own room. She seemed almost proprietal.

Miriel left my hair loose, and then opened the package she had brought, and displayed two silver hair combs. They were a gift to me from the king. I fingered them in awe before handing them back to her. She secured my hair behind my ears with them and then informed me that the seneschal had told her that I was to wear the purple gown tonight.

"Oh, Thaladir told you that. Did he?" I asked. She agreed sweetly that, indeed, he had. "I see," I continued slowly as I thought over that piece of information, "and when he told you that, did he say anything about maybe asking me first?" She looked surprised but told me that he had not.

"In that case," I told her, "forget it. No purple gown for me tonight. Come with me." She followed as I went to the wardrobe. Her lovely eyes widened as I pulled the red dress from its hanger with a dramatic flair and let it settle itself in a shimmering wave over my outstretched arm.

"This is what I am going to wear," I announced proudly. Miriel may be an elf but she is also a girl and she could not stop her fro from feeling the fabric. The texture of the sparkly dress brightened her face with wonder. "Wait until you see it on, it clings like a second skin and it will glitter like I am on fire in the torch-light at dinner."


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~ Mal ~

I was lost in thoughts and didn't hear when the seneschal entered the room. He did not make a sound, and suddenly, when I turned away from the window, he was just standing there. I wondered if had been watching me watching the garden for very long, but if he was annoyed he didn't show it.

He was clad in blue now and looked much different from what how he usually does, but the greatest difference was his face. I saw that Thaladir was a very handsome elf when he didn't frown. For the first time he looked at me without the slightest hint of disapproval, and he almost smiled when he reached out his arm and asked me politely to follow him.

"My Lady Malinorne, it will not be even remotely unpleasant to fulfil my duty of escorting you to the dining hall. My compliments on your appearance."

I almost didn't believe my ears, but I realized that I should have expected the seneschal to be satisfied. My green gown was a model of seemliness and decorum, and apparently the fact that my neck was exposed now when all my hair was done in this fashion of Ithilwen's did not bother him. I nodded, but not too deeply, as I didn't entirely trust the pins that held everything in place, and took his elbow.

When we went out of the room, Legolas and Mary were standing in the hallway. They were both beautiful, and Mary so happy I couldn't even feel jealous seeing her in a new dress that fit her curves perfectly. Had the king...? No, it didn't look elfish at all.

Legolas greeted me with a phrase from his seemingly never ending supply of Elvish pleasantries, and I just had to giggle when he compared me to a cherry tree in bloom.

Thaladir said something to Mary indicating that the gown she had on was not what she was supposed to be wearing, and I wondered if she had perhaps put it on just to tease him. But it was a very beautiful dress, and the fringed piece of fabric that covered her shoulders looked as if it was woven out of moonbeams.

As we walked down the corridor, in a dignified manner as befitted guests to a state banquet, I suddenly felt a need to do a little teasing myself. I td tod towards the seneschal and put my other hand on his arm as I spoke.

"I wonder," I said as innocently as possible, with the most angel-like facial expression I could muster, "if there will be grapes for dessert. Do you think so, Thaladir?"

It was all I could do not to chuckle when I felt the seneschal's arm go rigid under my hand and saw his whole face contract, not unlike the features of someone eating a grapefruit that turned out to be more sour than expected. The wrinkle between his eyebrows became a ridge as he frowned and I think that his nostrils even twitched for a second, before he gathered his composures enough to reply.

"The preparations for the proceedings of this night have been seen to with uttermost thoroughness, My Lady, and I trust that you will find them more than satisfactory."

And he looked at me as if he knew something that I did not. Suddenly it wasn't so fun to tease the seneschal anymore. I tried not to think about that meaningful glance and listened to Legolas instead, as he described the ts wts with his happy voice that always seemed to put me in a good mood.


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mary ~

When Legolas came to escort me to dinner, he approved of my dress and agreed that his father would appreciate it. He made a little twirling motion with his hand to indicate I should turn around and, when he saw me from behind, he let out a startled chortle of surprise. There was no back. Only a few little straps crossed over my bare skin to hold the gown in place on either side.

From the front, however, it appeared quite modest with long sleeves and a high neckline. After Miriel helped me fasten the silken ivory wrap around my shoulders, with a proud little smile playing about her lips, the prince offered me his arm and we stepped out into the corridor.

Thaladir was just bringing Mal out of a room across the way from mine and she looked glorious in her gown, as usual. Her hair was piled on top of her head, which showed off her graceful neck to perfection. Legolas bowed his head and said some mannerly greeting in Elvish to her. The seneschal's glance swept over me like a search light.

"My lady," he said in my direction, "if I am not mistaken, I believe His Majesty indicated to me that you were to wear a different gown for this occasion than the one you are presently wearing."

"Good evening to you, too, Excellency," I replied. "It is nice to see you in a different color than that boring old brown you always wear." The seneschal wore a deep-blue robe over a long tunic in a lighter shade of the same color. He was a handsome, dignified elf, if only he would keep his mouth shut. My answer seemed to have accomplished that for a few moments.

Before he could respond to me, I told him that the king had never once indicated to me, personally, face-to face, which gown he preferred for me to wear tonight. So, I had worn what I thought would most please him.

"Isn't that what I am supposed to do, Your Excellency?" I asked in all innocence. "Am I not required to try to do my best to please His Majesty?"

"It is more likely," speculated Legolas, "that we will all displease His Majesty if we delay any further, discussing gowns." With that said, he led me to the dining hall. Thaladir and Mal followed behind closely so the prince could fill us mortals in with details about the men from Esgaroth who were visiting for their annual price negotiations with the king, and his Mirkwood financial advisors.

"What are we supposed to talk about with them?" I looked behind to the seneschal to direct the question to him, "It seems as if every interesting topic has already been forbidden."

"As long as the conversation is kept at a level of polite inquiry," intoned the stone-faced elf, "and my lady remembers to keep her utterances brief, and in keeping with the standards enjoyed by those of proper breeding, I am sure she will continue to retain the bestowal of His Majesty's good graces upon her."

Puzzled, I looked to Legolas for translation. He told me that the seneschal meant that I was not to reveal too much personal information.

"You will have to forgive him for seeming so short-tempered and impatient about recent circumstances." Legolas then tried to explain why the seneschal was being so touchy.

Legolas spoke as if the humorless elf was not hearing every word, and he turned to look behind him, to make sure Mal was keeping up with his information. According to the prince, it was Thaladir's sole responsibility to oversee all the necessary preparations for the annual bargaining sessions. And that was never an easy task under the best of circumstances.

But I saw him glance at the old grouch and smile warmly before continuing, "He lives to serve my father and he becomes quite anxious when..." he paused momentarily in his thoughts and then began again, "unpredictable...situations occur during this time of the year."

Actually, I did feel a bit less persecuted as the prince described, quite freely, past incidents with the demanding old elf chastising or correcting various members of the household who did not quite meet his standards orfecrfection.

"But, as hard as Thaladir is on the rest of us," said the prince with a pleasant chuckle, "rest assured, he is twice as hard on himself." The seneschal appeared unaffected by hearing about himself but Mal was having a difficult time keeping a grin from creeping across her normally serene features.


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~ Mal ~

At first, I was a little annoyed when Legolas started speaking about the seneschal as if he hadn't been there. What he said didn't sound like teasing, it seemed plain rude to me. But Thaladir's arm remained relaxed under my hand, and when I looked at him he was entirely calm; there was no sign in his face of the signals that he usually showed when displeased with something.

Then Legolas turned to his old tutor with such love in his eyes that I understood that these two shared deep affection for each other, despite the young prince's words that sounded so inconsiderate to uni uninitiated. When I understood that the seneschal was not offended, it was difficult not to laugh at the comic situations described by the prince.

As we came closer to the great dining hall I could hear a murmur, a mixture of many voices, and I worried for a second. Meeting a multitude of people at the same time was not something I was used to, or comfortable with. I felt very happy not to be entering the hall alone. Thaladir would know exactly how to behave and I was glad that he was at my side.

When we entered the hall, my gaze immediately scanned for the king, but I could not see him. There were elves everywhere; blond ones and darker, very tall and just tall, all wearing tunics and leggings in different shades of brown and grey, beautiful in their plainness. The room was decorated with garlands of leaves and twigs with berries, and the single large table that we had used during lunch had been moved to the far end, to make room for numerous others that were smaller in size.

Legolas and Mary were delayed at the entrance while the seneschal and I proceeded towards the king's table. Three men were standing there, and some elves, one of them a female who's long blonde hair made me green with envy. No matter how hard I tried, mine would never even grow to my waist.

I felt the seneschal tense somewhat, and I noticed that most of the elves were looking appreciatively at something behind us. I did not need to turn my head to guess that Mary was up to something.

To my surprise, Thaladir didn't stay at my side once he had led me to the table, but instead went to stand beside Mary, and I was joined by Legolas. The seneschal introduced us to the people already present, but my thoughts wandered, as I was still looking for the king. The seat between Mary and me was very empty.

And then he suddenly appeared at the threshold, stunningly beautiful, and I had to steady myself against the table when his burning gaze fell on me. He looked like a panther on the hunt and I ached to let him devour me on the spot. As his eyes continued to the others in the room, the enchantment passed off and I could look at him more carefully.

He was all dressed in black. His royal mantle was like a starless night, velvety and soft, and full of hidden promises. When he started walking towards our table, it swept out behind him and revealed a dark green tunic, not as long as the ones worn by most of the elves, and black leggings that clung to his strong legs like a second skin.

The garments were unadorned, which only served to highlight the crown on his head. It was low, more like a circlet than a crown, and shaped like a garland of beech leaves, made from mithril. This was intricately interwoven with a garland of natural leaves; yellow birch leaves from the forest, in such a way that every other leaf around the king's fair head was silver mithril, every other a naturally golden leaf. It was the first time I had seen Thranduil in his kingly attire and the sight was breathtaking.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mary~

"Are you ready?" whispered the prince as he offered me his arm at the dining-room door, after removing my wrap. Mal and Thaladir continued ahead of us and slowly approached the main table. The king had not yet arrived.

"I was born ready," I replied to his sweet smile. Even though I knew that the torchlight in the hall would make my dress look even more dazzling than the candlelight had in my dressing room, I was not prepared for the amount of appreciative glances I received as we walked among the elves. For the first time since Mal had arrived in Mirkwood, I did not feel invisible in her presence.

When we all reached the table, the seneschal deposited her to the right side of the king's seat and continued on to stand to his monarch's left side, an unusual placement for him at the king's table. But there was a vacant seat between himself and Thranduil and I knew that chair was meant for me.

"Do I have to sit next to him?" I whispered in sudden desperation to Legolas as he led me around the table. I was sure that if Thaladir saw the back of my dress he would surely have another anxiety attack.

"I am afraid so," answered the prince. "But at least you do not have to sit across from the wine merchant." He made a face. "You should pity poor Mal; he can be a very disagreeable fellow." As soon as everyone was in place, the seneschal performed the formal introductions.

Directly across from me stood Master Darek, an elected official of Esgaroth, sort of like a mayor, and his assistant, the shy young treasurer, Haryl. They looked very dapper for Middle-Earth men. They both wore long coats cut with a tailored flair with brocade vests beneath worn over white linen shirts. Their hair was cropped short but they both had mustaches.

I had forgotten how hairy men could be. Their features appeared blurry and indistinct next to the more finely structured faces of the elves. Master Darek was a neat and dignified older man, almost as proper as Thaladir but not nearly as disdainful in his manner. Haryl was almost cute; he had dark blonde hair, wide brown eyes and a pleasant smile.

As instructed by the seneschal, I extended my hand to them, palm down, and greeted them in my softest voice possible. The young treasurer's hand shook a bit as he took mine and placed his lips upon it. That was a surprise. I do not know who was the more nervous, he or I, although for different reasons. I was worried about bending too far, which would reveal my bare skin, and I did not want to turn too quickly in the wrong direction.

The next to be introduced was Helca, the king's chief financial adviser, a tall, willowy elleth with silvery hair to her knees. I had noticed her whispering to one of the men as we approached the table. They had both laughed unpleasantly. She was not even smiling now.

I was momentarily taken aback as I held my hand out to her and she stood with her hands clasped firmly in front of her. She was looking directly at me with one of the iciest blue-eyed stares I had ever been given by human or elf. It sent shivers through me as if I had been dipped in the river again by her glance.

Once she saw that I was facing her, she made a point of raking her disdainful eyes up and down my body as if they were the claws of a cat. If I did not know better, I would have considered her haughty sneer a display of envy, which was not elflike behavior.

If so, however, it was the best unspoken compliment I had received all evening for there was nothing polite about it, so therefore it was the most sincere.

Standing to her left, across from Mal, was a larger, hairier, man. Renk, the wine merchant. He had not bothered to take his tiny piggish eyes from the royal concubine after she had arrived at the table. I was glad he was looking at her and not me.

He had an oily look about him, as if he were used to persuading people with his overblown style, and boorish manner, instead of his character. He wore a robe not very dissimilar to Thaladir's, except it was a deep burnt-orange color, which did nothing for his florid complexion except make him look like a large pumpkin, with a mustache and sideburns.

Next to the wine-merchant was the king's treasurer, the shy elf, Canath, He had kind, leaf-green eyes, a glossy mane of chestnut hair, and tiny dimples that showed up only on the rarest of occasions for he was usually very quiet at the table. I had met him before. He only spoke Elvish.

Once the introductions were over, as if by some hidden signal, the great doors opened again and the king entered the hall. And, like a shockwave that follows a clap of thunder, silence spread throughout the crowd like an echoing aftermath.

Thranduil stood for a moment and turned his head from side to side, like a wild animal, as if sniffing the air to gather information. His keen gaze swept over the table where we stood, pausing momentarily on his concubine, whom he favored with a dangerous leering grin, before continuing on to me. I lifted my chin proudly as his eyes zeroed in on me like twin lasers.

That wolf-grin widened, and the lusty fascination in his gaze sent thrills though me. I was very glad to have his undivided attention for those few long strides he took to his seat. I had a feeling he would like the way my dress reflected all of the light in the room. His eyes had a familiar glitter of lusty regard as they swept over me.

The king stood between Mal and me, and turned to nod politely to her and the rest of the guests at the table. Then he put his hand on my back, the sudden warm touch almost made me jump, and swept his fingers down bare skin toward my hip as he gestured for me to sit. I was grateful, as his lusty gaze, and intimate caress, had made my knees instantly turn weak.

He turned to Mal and she sat at his nod, and then he sat. And only then did the rest of the elves, and the men, in the hall sit down. I felt more comfortable once the formalities were over. We had to rehearse that sitting routine a dozen times, but with the seneschal taking the place of the king.

The two men seated across my end of the table asked both Mal and me polite questions about our visit in Mirkwood, like how long we would be staying, and if either of us had any plans to travel to the Long Lake in the near future?

Haryl, the young treasurer, paused in the middle of every question he asked and shot a darting fearful glance at both the king and the seneschal before proceeding. It was hard to concentrate on the nervous young man.

But, I forgot all about the young man, and the seneschal, as a firm, large hand moved below the table, found the slit up my thigh, and settled itself there on the bare skin, possessively, for a few delirious moments. I gasped at Thranduil's touch and covered my mouth with my napkin, while pretending to cough, to cover my involuntary outburst.

The king leaned to me, his lips grazing my ear for a shivery instant, and whispered, "You will have to wear this dress for me some evening when we are alone."

"Maybe I will," I said softly, looking him directly in the eyes. "If you remember to say please first." I smiled to show I was teasing. "Thank you for the hair-combs," I added, patting them at either side of my head. His smile widened as he gave my bare leg one last squeeze, but then removed his hand too soon so he could attend to his meal.

Contented with Thranduil's approval, I picked at my own meal while keeping my eyes cast down modestly. I glanced at the men across from me in the face only if they directed a question specifically at me. The few peeks I took at Thaladir told me that he was not thoroughly disgusted with my performance at the dinner-table, so far.

I could not tell if he had, as yet, even noticed my unseemly gown. He sat ram-rod straight, the tallest elf at a table of tall elves, and each time I glanced at him he was looking behind the king's back towards Mal, or across the table at the men. He seemed to pay special attention to the wine merchant, whose table manners must have turned the finicky seneschal's stomach.

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~ Mal ~

Legolas had been right; the men seemed to be very interested in Mary and me, even more than what Thaladir would have found appropriate, not to mention seemly. Master Darek made a favourable impression on me, with his fatherly and statesman-like appearance, and, as far as I could hear, he never asked Mary anything but polite questions on how she enjoyed her visit in Mirkwood and the like.

The wine merchant, Renk, was a different matter altogether. The man was nightmare with his leering grin and pig-like eyes in a round, ruddy face that soon shone with fat as he devoured one course after the other without much attention to manners. Now and then, he used his sleeve to wipe off his face, supposedly to make him appear more presentable, but the gesture only served to make him even dis disgusting to me. Strangely enough, neither Legolas, nor the king, seemed to notice.

As I had the bad luck to be seated right across from the merchant, I couldn't do much to avoid his gaze. I tried to look at Legolas as much as possible, or the king, or the silent Canath, the king's treasurer, but whenever I tried to attract their attention, they all seemed to be occupied by conversations of their own.

I only cast one single glance at the elleth on the other side of the merchant. She looked as if she wanted to pierce my soul with the icy spears that seemed to shoot out of her eyes as she regarded me haughtily. It was the first time I had seen pure hatred in an elf, and it was not something I wished to see again.

So I had to look at Renk, quite often, and I got the impression that he never took his eyes off me. I kept my feet very much to myself, as far under my chair as I could; I was sure the fat-bellied merchant would not hesitate to fish after me with his gaudy boots should he get the chance. He talked a lot, always loudly, and he made me blush frequently as he told one bawdy anecdote after the other, always seeming to try to look straight at me.

And, at one point he had the impudence to invite me to his private residence, openly declaring that it was "so that he could have me all to himself". He said it clearly for everybody at the table to hear, and accompanied his words with a loud laughter, that might have sounded jovial in a less unpleasant man, but that made me shudder.

Shocked, and blushing furiously, in a desperate attempt to find some comfort, I reached out a hand to touch the king's thigh under the table, but he just laughed as loudly as the merchant and put my hand back into my own lap.

But then he let his hand slip under mine, and he moved it slowly up and down my thigh. I was torn between disgust and embarrassment with the merchant's behaviour, and the blazing heat that seemed to spread from Thranduil's hand into my body like wildfire. And yet, he laughed along with Renk. I could not interpret it otherwise than that the king wanted me to keep the merchant happy by enduring his behaviour.

Renk must have seen a change in my gaze, must have seen my eyes widen with desire for a short moment, before I came to enough to look down at my plate again. And no doubt, he must have thought that he was the cause.

I had been looking forward to the singing, hoping to learn an Elvish tune or two, but I had not expected to be asked to sing alone with all these elves listening. It was too embarrassing. I just couldn't do it! I said that I was sorry and hoped that my apology would be accepted, but Mary was heartlessly urging the king on to make me sing. I didn't know what I wanted the most, to kill her or to drop down dead myself.

However, I should have trusted Thranduil. I felt a little guilty when he patted my hand reassuringly and said, kindly, that I didn't have to sing. Instead, he sang himself, and then Thaladir, and their voices were rich and beautiful and I hoped that some time I would feel brave enough to sing together with them.

Then the music started playing and the dancing was about to begin. I wanted to dance with the king, and Legolas, and perhaps some of the nice elves I had met earlier and I longed to rise from the table to finally be released from the attentions of Renk. I was not prepared for what happened next.

The merchant was suddenly standing with a hand outstretched towards me. I couldn't believe it, and gazed insecurely at the king, in the hope that he would relieve me of this unpleasant duty, like he had done with the singing.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mary ~

Legolas had told us there would be singing, but, he had left out the most important part. Everyone at thng'ng's table was expected to take turns. They started at the far end with the prince. In deference to the distinguished guests, he sang in the Common Tongue about the forest of Greenwood.

Most of the elves sang along with a chorus that repeated a refrain about its former days of glory and future days of more glory yet to come. When he was finished, both the wmercmerchant's beady gaze, and beside him, the icy elf maiden's frigid glare, zeroed in on Mal. I just knew she had to be squirming in her seat because of it. I leaned forward to see her. But I believed that she could sing all of these elf's ears off, if she would only get over her shyness.

"Mal, you must sing," I said. I turned to the men before me. "She sings like an angel, really." They cast aglanglances towards her. I am sure she would have thrown the small piece of bread clutched in her fingertips right at me if she thought she could have done so without anyone noticing. Her lips were set in a thin line as she looked down at her plate and stated, to her dinner, that she would really rather not sing, please, if she was not required to do so.

The king had turned to her expectantly and I whispered to him, "Oh, don't listen to her! Make her sing! Make her sing! She sounds just like a beautiful little canary when she gets warmed up, honest."

Instead, Thranduil reached out and patted Mal's hand and told the table that no one would be forced to sing. Then he sang. His beautiful voice filled the hall as he sang about the Battle of the Five Armies. The men joined in happily and all of the elves in the hall sang along with the chorus of triumph over the evil troll king and the army of goblins.

In this version of events, it was the men and the elves that fought the entire battle. The eagles weentientioned, briefly, but not the dwarves. There was much about spears stabbing, arrows flying and swords slashing. I thought it was boring.

When the king was finished singing he turned to me. I shook my head. "If Mal doesn't have to sing then neither do I, right?" The king nodded and looked to Thaladir.

Now, this had to be good. I wondered what kind of wretched tune the seneschal was going to croak out for us. But I was soon sitting in stunned amazement as his surprisingly beautiful voice, a deep velvety baritone, soared, dipped and moaned as he sang slow, stately, chanted verses in Elvish.

I wished that I could understand what he was singing, although the sound of the words made pictures in my head of a great battle between opposing forces. In response to my wish, the king leaned to me and began translating the words in my ear as each line was chanted:

"Revealing, uncovering, betraying.

Then sudden Felagund there swaying

Sang in answer a song of staying,

Resisting, battling against power,

Of secrets kept, strength like a tower...*"

The words about the battle of powerful and magical wills, fought entirely by the singing of enchanted songs, sent chills down my spine both as Thaladir chanted them and the king translated them. Everyone in the hall remained silent until the song ended, and then remained quiet for several moments more out of respect.

The sobering spell was soon broken, however, as Master Darek used his turn to sing a lighthearted song about the river traffic between the Long Lake and the halls of Mirkwood. All of the elves knew the words and sang along happily. While the song wound up, the court musicians came into the dining-hall and the atmosphere changed.

It was time to dance, and I wondered if I could manage to do so with my back turned to the seneschal the entire time.

t b c


*The song that Thaladir sings for us is from The Silmarillion. It is fragment of the Lay of Leithian, "Of Beren and Luthien". This particular verse refers to the great singing battle between Finrod Felagund, who is the brother of Galadriel, and Sauron, during the Silmaril quest of Beren and Luthien Tinuviel. Felagund perished in the battle, but the two lovers were able to escape.

Mary Goes to Mirkwood

Chapter Eleven/?

Co-Authors: Mary A & Malinorne

Disclaimer: We are just playing with Tolkien's characters for fun, not profit. We do not claim to have created any of them. Thaladir, the king's seneschal, is our own creation.

Summary: Mal and Mary are wined, dined, and sung to.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mary ~

Having my own room was marvelous. I took off the red sparkling dress and hung it away carefully in the wardrobe. Before exploring further, I put on my tee-shirt and jeans and felt comfortable at last. The large standing closet revealed a few surprises. I ran my hands over another new gown hanging within, a purple one, and thought about how the king had said he only wanted me to wear scarlet. Apparently he had changed his mind.

There were a few nightgowns in there, made of some type of white cottony material. Not sexy at all. I disregarded them. More interesting was a long, fringed shawl that was made from an ivory-colored silky fabric, with cream colored fringe along the edge of the v-shaped back. It was cut straight across the top and obviously made to wear over the shoulders.

Chuckling, but touched, I held it up and admired it. I knew exactly what it was for and why it was there. The king had read my mind that morning when I was looking for something to cover the unfastened back of my gown. I put it on over my tee-shirt. It was the perfect length and it felt as lovely as it looked.

I sashayed out into the bedchamber, making the fringe sway to-and-fro as I walked, and ran my hand over the embroidery on the coverlet on my bed. There were no carvings on the smooth, rounded surfaces of the wooden bedposts but they had been polished with wax and rubbed to a high gloss. Unlike the king's sleeping room, mine had no extra furniture beyond a small table beside the bedstead, which held a candle.

A soft knock at the door interrupted my exploration, and Miriel, holding towels over her arm, and a small package in her hand, entered the room. She was gracefully balancing a basin and pitcher on top of everything, which I took from her and placed on the table next to the bed. She glided around the room, placing the small package she was carrying on top of the bed, putting the towels down next to it, and then pouring water into the basin.

The efficient elleth removed some items from her apron pockets, such as a hairbrush and bar of soap. After I washed my face and hands, I sat on the edge of the bed while she fixed my hair. I had never seen her happier. I think she liked having me to herself in my own room. She seemed almost proprietal.

Miriel left my hair loose, and then opened the package she had brought, and displayed two silver hair combs. They were a gift to me from the king. I fingered them in awe before handing them back to her. She secured my hair behind my ears with them and then informed me that the seneschal had told her that I was to wear the purple gown tonight.

"Oh, Thaladir told you that. Did he?" I asked. She agreed sweetly that, indeed, he had. "I see," I continued slowly as I thought over that piece of information, "and when he told you that, did he say anything about maybe asking me first?" She looked surprised but told me that he had not.

"In that case," I told her, "forget it. No purple gown for me tonight. Come with me." She followed as I went to the wardrobe. Her lovely eyes widened as I pulled the red dress from its hanger with a dramatic flair and let it settle itself in a shimmering wave over my outstretched arm.

"This is what I am going to wear," I announced proudly. Miriel may be an elf but she is also a girl and she could not stop herself from feeling the fabric. The texture of the sparkly dress brightened her face with wonder. "Wait until you see it on, it clings like a second skin and it will glitter like I am on fire in the torch-light at dinner."


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mal ~

I was lost in thoughts and didn't hear when the seneschal entered the room. He did not make a sound, and suddenly, when I turned away from the window, he was just standing there. I wondered if had been watching me watching the garden for very long, but if he was annoyed he didn't show it.

He was clad in blue now and looked much different from what how he usually does, but the greatest difference was his face. I saw that Thaladir was a very handsome elf when he didn't frown. For the first time he looked at me without the slightest hint of disapproval, and he almost smiled when he reached out his arm and asked me politely to follow him.

"My Lady Malinorne, it will not be even remotely unpleasant to fulfil my duty of escorting you to the dining hall. My compliments on your appearance."

I almost didn't believe my ears, but I realized that I should have expected the seneschal to be satisfied. My green gown was a model of seemliness and decorum, and apparently the fact that my neck was exposed now when all my hair was done in this fashion of Ithilwen's did not bother him. I nodded, but not too deeply, as I didn't entirely trust the pins that held everything in place, and took his elbow.

When we went out of the room, Legolas and Mary were standing in the hallway. They were both beautiful, and Mary so happy I couldn't even feel jealous seeing her in a new dress that fit her curves perfectly. Had the king...? No, it didn't look elfish at all.

Legolas greeted me with a phrase from his seemingly never ending supply of Elvish pleasantries, and I just had to giggle when he compared me to a cherry tree in bloom.

Thaladir said something to Mary indicating that the gown she had on was not what she was supposed to be wearing, and I wondered if she had perhaps put it on just to tease him. But it was a very beautiful dress, and the fringed piece of fabric that covered her shoulders looked as if it was woven out of moonbeams.

As we walked down the corridor, in a dignified manner as befitted guests to a state banquet, I suddenly felt a need to do a little teasing myself. I turned towards the seneschal and put my other hand on his arm as I spoke.

"I wonder," I said as innocently as possible, with the most angel-like facial expression I could muster, "if there will be grapes for dessert. Do you think so, Thaladir?"

It was all I could do not to chuckle when I felt the seneschal's arm go rigid under my hand and saw his whole face contract, not unlike the features of someone eating a grapefruit that turned out to be more sour than expected. The wrinkle between his eyebrows became a ridge as he frowned and I think that his nostrils even twitched for a second, before he gathered his composures enough to reply.

"The preparations for the proceedings of this night have been seen to with uttermost thoroughness, My Lady, and I trust that you will find tmoremore than satisfactory."

And he looked at me as if he knew something that I did not. Suddenly it wasn't so fun to tease the seneschal anymore. I tried not to think about that meaningful glance and listened to Legolas instead, as he described the guests with his happy voice that always seemed to put me in a good mood.


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mary ~

When Legolas came to escort me to dinner, he approved of my dress and agreed that his father would appreciate it. He made a little twirling motion with his hand to indicate I should turn around and, when he saw me from behind, he let out a startled chortle of surprise. There was no back. Only a few little straps crossed over my bare skin to hold the gown in place on either side.

From the front, however, it appeared quite modest with long sleeves and a high neckline. After Miriel helped me fasten the silken ivory wrap around my shoulders, with a proud little smile playing about her lips, the prince offered me his arm and we stepped out into the corridor.

Thaladir was just bringing Mal out of a room across the way from mine and she looked glorious in her gown, as usual. Her hair was piled on top of her head, which showed off her graceful neck to perfection. Legolas bowed his head and said some mannerly greeting in Elvish to her. The seneschal's glance swept over me like a search light.

"My lady," he said in my direction, "if I am not mistaken, I believe His Majesty indicated to me that you were to wear a different gown for this occasion than the one you are presently wearing."

"Good evening to you, too, Excellency," I replied. "It is nice to see you in a different color than that boring old brown you always wear." The seneschal wore a deep-blue robe over a long tuni a l a lighter shade of the same color. He was a handsome, dignified elf, if only he would keep his mouth shut. My answer seemed to have accomplished that for a few moments.

Before he could respond to me, I told him that the king had never once indicated to me, personally, face-to face, which gown he preferred for me to wear tonight. So, I had worn what I thought would most please him.

"Isn't that what I am supposed to do, Your Excellency?" I asked in all innocence. "Am I not required to try to do my best to please His Majesty?"

"It is more likely," speculated Legolas, "that we will all displease His Majesty if we delay any further, discussing gowns." With that said, he led me to the dining hall. Thaladir and Mal followed behind closely so the prince could fill us mortals in with details about the men from Esgaroth who were visiting for their annual price negotiations with the king, and his Mirkwood financial advisors.

"What are we supposed to talk about with them?" I looked behind to the seneschal to direct the question to him, "It seems as if every interesting topic has already been forbidden."

"As long as the conversation is kept at a level of polite inquiry," intoned the stone-faced elf, "and my lady remembers to keep her utterances brief, and in keeping with the standards enjoyed by those of proper breeding, I am sure she will continue to retain the bestowal of His Majgoodgoodgood graces upon her."

Puzzled, I looked to Legolas for translation. He told me that the seneschal meant that I was not to reveal too much personal information.

"You will have to forgive him for seeming so short-tempered and impatient about recent circumstances." Legolas then tried to explain why the seneschal was being so touchy.

According to the prince, it was Thaladir's sole responsibility to oversee all the necessary preparations for the annual bargaining sessions. And that was never an easy task under the best of circumstances. Legolas spoke as if the humorless elf was not hearing every word, and he turned to look behind him, to make sure Mal was keeping up with his information.

But I saw him glance at the old grouch and smile warmly before continuing, "He lives to serve my father and he becomes quite anxious when..." he paused momentarily in his thoughts and then began again, "unpredictable...situations occur during this time of the year."

Actually, I did feel a bit less persecuted as the prince described, quite freely, past incidents with the demanding old elf chastising or correcting various members of the household who did not quite meet his standards of perfection. I got the feeling that Thaladir was used to being teased about his reputation for being a stickler for detail.

"As hard as Thaladir is on the rest of us," said the prince with a pleasant chuckle, "rest assured, he is twice as hard on himself." The seneschal appeared unaffected by hearing about himself but Mal was having a difficult time keeping a grin from creeping across her normally serene features.


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mal ~

At first, I was a little annoyed when Legolas started speaking about the seneschal as if he hadn't been there. What he said didn't sound like teasing, it seemed plain rude to me. But Thaladir's arm remained relaxed under my hand, and when I looked at him he was entirely calm; there was no sign in his face of the signals that he usually showed when displeased with something.

Then Legolas turned to his old tutor with such love in his eyes that I understood that these two shared deep affection for each other, despite the young prince's words that sounded so inconsiderate to the uninitiated. When I understood that the seneschal was not offended, it was difficult not to laugh at the comic situations described by the prince.

As we came closer to the great dining hall I could hear a murmur, a mixture of many voices, and I worried for a second. Meeting a multitude of people at the same time was not something I was used to, or comfortable with. I felt very happy not to be entering the hall alone. Thaladir would know exactly how to behave and I was glad that he was at my side.

When we entered the hall, my gaze immediately scanned for the king, but I could not see him. There were elves everywhere; blond ones and darker, very tall and just tall, all wearing tunics and leggings in different shades of brown and grey, beautiful in their plainness. The room was decorated with garlands of leaves and twigs with berries, and the single large table that we had used during lunch had been moved to the far end, to make room for numerous others that were smaller in size.

Legolas and Mary were delayed at the entrance while the seneschal and I proceeded towards the king's table. Three men were standing there, and some elves, one of them a female who's long blonde hair made me green with envy. No matter how hard I tried, mine would never even grow to my waist.

I felt the seneschal tense somewhat, and I noticed that most of the elves were looking appreciatively at something behind us. I did not need to turn my head to guess that Mary was up to something.

To my surprise, Thaladir didn't stay at my side once he had led me to the table, but instead went to stand beside Mary, and I was joined by Legolas. The seneschal introduced us to the people already present, but my thoughts wandered, as I was still looking for the king. The seat between Mary and me was very empty.

And then he suddenly appeared at the threshold, stunningly beautiful, and I had to steady myself against the table when his burning gaze fell on me. He looked like a panther on the hunt and I ached to let him devour me on the spot. As his eyes continued to the others in the room, the enchantment passed off and I could look at him more carefully.

He was all dressed in black. His royal mantle was like a starless night, velvety and soft, and full of hidden promises. When he started walking towards our table, it swept out behind him and revealed a dark green tunic, not as long as the ones worn by most of the elves, and black leggings that clung to his strong legs like a second skin.

The garments were unadorned, which only served to highlight the crown on his head. It was low, more like a circlet than a crown, and shaped like a garland of beech leaves, made from mithril. This was intricately interwoven with a garland of natural leaves; yellow birch leaves from the forest, in such a way thaery ery other leaf around the king's fair head was silver mithril, every other a naturally golden leaf. It was the first time I had seen Thranduil in his kingly attire and the sight was breathtaking.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mary~

"Are you ready?" whispered the prince as he offered me his arm at the dining-room door, after removing my wrap. Mal and Thaladir continued without us and slowly approached the main table. The king had not yet arrived.

"I was born ready," I replied to his sweet smile. Even though I knew that the torchlight in the hall would make my dress look even more dazzling than the candlelight had in my dressing room, I was not prepared for the amount of appreciative glances I received as we walked among the elves. For the first time since Mal had arrived in Mirkwood, I did not feel invisible in her presence.

When we all reached the table, the seneschal deposited her to the right side of the king's seat and continued on to stand to his monarch's left side, an unusual placement for him at the king's table. But there was a vacant seat between himself and Thranduil and I knew that chair was meant for me.

"Do I have to sit next to him?" I whispered in sudden desperation to Legolas as he led me around the table. I was sure that if Thaladir saw the back of my dress he would surely have another anxiety attack.

"I am afraid so," answered the prince. "But at least you do not have to sit across from the wine merchant." He made a face. "You should pity poor Mal; he can be a very disagreeable fellow." As soon as everyone was in place, the seneschal performed the formal introductions.

Directly across from me stood Master Darek, an elected official of Esgaroth, sort of like a mayor, and his assistant, the shy young treasurer, Haryl. They looked very dapper for Middle-Earth men. They both wore long coats cut with a tailored flair with brocade vests beneath worn over white linen shirts. Their hair was cropped short but they both had mustaches.

I had forgotten how hairy men could be. Their features appeared blurry and indistinct next to the more finely structured faces of the elves. Master Darek was a neat and dignified older man, almost as proper as Thaladir but not nearly as disdainful in his manner. Haryl was almost cute; he had dark blonde hair, wide brown eyes and a pleasant smile.

As instructed by the seneschal, I extended my hand to them, palm down, and greeted them in my softest voice possible. The young treasurer's hand shook a bit as he took mine and placed his lips upon it. That was a surprise. I do not know who was the more nervous, he or I, although for different reasons. I was worried about bending too far, which would reveal my bare skin, and I did not want to turn too quickly in the wrong direction.

The next to be introduced was Helca, the king's chief financial adviser, a tall, willowy elleth with silvery hair to her knees. I had noticed her whispering to one of the men as we approached the table. They had both laughed unpleasantly. She was not even smiling now.

I was momentarily taken aback as I held my hand out to her and she stood with her hands clasped firmly in front of her. She was looking directly at me with one of the iciest blue-eyed stares I had ever been given by human or elf. It sent shivers through me as if I had been dipped in the river again by her glance.

Once she saw that I facifacing her, she made a point of raking her disdainful eyes up and down my body a the they were the claws of a cat. If I did not know better, I would have considered her haughty sneer a display of envy, which was not elflike behavior.

If so, however, it was the best unspoken compliment I had received all evening for there was nothing polite about it, so therefore it was the most sincere.

Standing to her left, across from Mal, was a larger, hairier, man. Renk, the wine merchant. He had not bothered to take his tiny piggish eyes from the royal concubine after she had arrived at the table. I was glad he was looking at her and not me.

He had an oily look about him, as if he were used to persuading people with his overblown style, and boorish manner, instead of his character. He wore a robe not very dissimilar to Thaladir's, except it was a deep burnt-orange color, which did nothing for his florid complexion except make him look like a large pumpkin, with a mustache and sideburns.

Next to the wine-merchant was the king's treasurer, the shy elf, Canath, He had kind, leaf-green eyes, a glossy mane of chestnut hair, and tiny dimples that showed up only on the rarest of occasions for he was usually very quiet at the table. I had met him before. He only spoke Elvish.

Once the introductions were over, as if by some hidden signal, the great doors opened again and ting ing entered the hall. And, like a shockwave that follows a clap of thunder, silence spread throughout the crowd like an echoing aftermath.

Thranduil stood for a moment and turned his head from side to side, like a wolf, as if sniffing the air to gather information. His keen gaze swept over the table where we stood, pausing momentarily on his concubine, whom he favored with a dangerous leering grin, before continuing on to me. I lifted my chin proudly as his eyes zeroed in on me like twin lasers.

That wolf-grin widened, and the lusty fascination in his gaze sent thrills though me. I was very glad to have his undivided attention for those few long strides he took to his seat. I had a feeling he would like the way my dress reflected all of the light in the room. His eyes had a familiar glitter of lusty regard as they swept over me.

The king stood between Mal and me, and turned to nod politely to her and the rest of the guests at the table. Then he put his hand on my back, the sudden warm touch almost made me jump, and swept hingerngers down bare skin toward my hip as he gestured for me to sit. I was grateful, as his lusty gaze, and intimate caress, had made my knees instantly turn weak.

He turned to Mal and she sat at his nod, and then he sat. And only then did the rest of the elves, and the men, in the hall sit down. I felt more comfortable once the formalities were over.

The two men seated across my end of the table asked both Mal and me polite questions about our visit in Mirkwood, like how long we would be staying, and if either of us had any plans to travel to the Long Lake in the near future? And had we ever been there before?

Haryl, the young treasurer, paused in the middle of every question he asked and shot a darting fearful glance at both the king and the seneschal before proceeding. It was hard to concentrate on the nervous young man. The wine merchant, seated across from Mal, had disgusting table manners and made a few rude comments to her, which bothered me, even if Thranduil seemed unconcer

But, I forgot all about the treasurer, the wine merchant, and Mal, as a firm, large hand moved below the table, found the slit up my thigh, and settled itself there on the bare skin, possessively, for a few delirious moments. I gasped at Thranduil's touch and covered my mouth with my napkin, while pretending to cough, to cover my involuntary outburst.

The king leaned to me, his lips grazing my ear for a shivery instant, and whispered, "You will have to wear this dress for me some evening when we are alone, together."

"Maybe I will," I said softly, looking him directly in the eyes. "If you remember to say, 'please' first." I smiled to show I was teasing. "Thank you for the pretty hair-combs," I added, patting them at either side of my head. His smile widened as he gave my bare leg one last squeeze, but then removed his hand too soon so he could attend to his meal.

Contented with Thranduil's approval, I picked at my own meal while keeping my eyes cast down modestly. I glanced at the men across from me in the face only if they directed a question specifically at me. The few peeks I took at Thaladir told me that he was not thoroughly disgusted with my performance at the dinner-table, so far.

I could not tell if he had, as yet, even noticed my unseemly gown. He sat ram-rod straight, the tallest elf at a table of tall elves, and each time I glanced im him he was looking behind the king's back towards Mal, or across the table at the men. He seemed to pay special attention to the wine merchant, whose table manners must have turned the finicky seneschal's stomach.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mal ~

Legolas had been right; the men seemed to be very interested in Mary and me, even more than what Thaladir would have found appropriate, not to mention seemly. Master Darek made a favourable impression on me, with his fatherly and statesman-like appearance, and, as far as I could hear, he never asked Mary anything but polite questions on how she enjoyed her visit in Mirkwood and the like.

The wine merchant, Renk, was a different matter altogether. The man was nightmare with his leering grin and pig-like eyes in a round, ruddy face that soon shone with fat as he devoured one course after the other without much attention to manners. Now and then, he used his sleeve to wipe off his face, supposedly to make him appear more presentable, but the gesture only served to make him even more disgusting to me. Strangely enough, neither Legolas, nor the king, seemed to notice.

As I had the bad luck to be seated right across from the merchant, I couldn't do much to avoid his gaze. I tried to look at Legolas as much as possible, or the king, or the silent Canath, the king's treasurer, but whenever I tried to attract their attention, they all seemed to be occupied by conversations of their own.

I only cast one single glance at the elleth on the other side of the merchant. She looked as if she wanted to pierce my soul with the icy spears that seemed to shoot out of her eyes as she regarded me haughtily. It was the first time I had seen pure hatred in an elf, and it was not something I wished to see again.

So I had to look at Renk, quite often, and I got the impression that he never took his eyes off me. I kept my feet very much to myself, as far under my chair as I could; I was sure the fat-bellied merchant would not hesitate to fish after me with his gaudy boots should he get the chance. He talked a lot, always loudly, and he made me blush frequently as he told one bawdy anecdote after the other, always seeming to try to look straight at me.

And, at one point he had the impudence to invite me to his private residence, openly declaring that it was "so that he could have me all to himself". He said it clearly for everybody at the table to hear, and accompanied his words with a loud laughter, that might have sounded jovial in a less unpleasant man, but that made me shudder.

Shocked, and blushing furiously, in a desperate attempt to find some comfort, I reached out a hand to touch the king's thigh under the table, but he just laughed as loudly as the merchant and put my hand back into my own lap.

But then he let his hand slip under mine, and he moved it slowly up and down my thigh. I was torn between disgust and embarrassment with the merchant's behaviour, and the blazing heat that seemed to spread from Thranduil's hand into my body like wildfire. And yet, he laughed along with Renk. I could not interpret it otherwise than that the king wanted me to keep the merchant happy by enduring his behaviour.

Renk must have seen a change in my gaze, must have seen my eyes widen with desire for a short moment, before I came to enough to look down at my plate again. And no doubt, he must have thought that he was the cause.

I had been looking forward to the singing, hoping to learn an Elvish tune or two, but I had not expected to be asked to sing alone with all these elves listening. It was too embarrassing. I just couldn't do it! I said that I was sorry and hoped that my apology would be accepted, but Mary was heartlessly urging the king on to make me sing. I didn't know what I wanted the most, to kill her or to drop down dead myself.

However, I should have trusted Thranduil. I felt a little guilty when he patted my hand reassuringly and said, kindly, that I didn't have to sing. Instead, he sang himself, and then Thaladir, and their voices were rich and beautiful and I hoped that some time I would feel brave enough to sing together with them.

Then the music started playing and the dancing was about to begin. I wanted to dance with the king, and Legolas, and perhaps some of the nice elves I had met earlier and I longed to rise from the table to finally be released from the attentions of Renk. I was not prepared for what happened next.

The merchant was suddenly standing with a hand outstretched towards me. I couldn't believe it, and gazed insecurely at the king, in the hope that he would relieve me of this unpleasant duty, like he had done with the singing.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mary ~

Legolas had told us there would be singing, but, he had left out the most important part. Everyone at the king's table was expected to take turTheyThey started at the far end with the prince. In deference to the distinguished guests, he sang in the Common Tongue about the forest of Greenwood.

Most of the elves sang along with a chorus that repeated a refrain about its former days of glory and future days of more glory yet to come. When he was finished, both the wine merchant's beady gaze, and beside him, the icy elf maiden's frigid glare, zeroed in on Mal. I just knew she had to be squirming in her seat because of it. I leaned forward to see her. But I believed that she could sing all of these elf's ears off, if she would only get over her shyness.

"Mal, you must sing," I said. I turned to the men before me. "She sings like an angel, really." They cast awed glances towards her. I am sure she would have thrown the small piece of bread clutched in her fingertips right at me if she thought she could have done so without anyone noticing. Her lips were set in a thin line as she looked down at her plate and stated, to her dinner, that she would really rather not sing, please, if she was not required to do so.

The king had turned to her expectantly and I whispered to him, "Oh, don't listen to her! Make her sing! Make her sing! She sounds just like a beautiful little canary when she gets warmed up, honest."

Instead, Thranduil reached out and patted Mal's hand and told the table that no one would be forced to sing. Then he sang. His beautiful voice filled the hall as he sang about the Battle of the Five Armies. The men joined in happily and all of the elves in the hall sang along with the chorus of triumph over the evil troll king and the army of goblins.

In this version of events, it was the men and the elves that fought the entire battle. The eagles were mentioned, briefly, but not the dwarves. There was much about spears stabbing, arrows flying and swords slashing. I thought it was boring.

When the king was finished singing he turned to me. I shook my head. "If Mal doesn't have to sing then neither do I, right?" The king nodded and looked to Thaladir.

Now, this had to be good. I wondered what kind of wretched tune the seneschal was going to croak out for us. But I was soon sitting in stunned amazement as his surprisingly beautiful voice, a deep velvety baritone, soared, dipped and moaned as he sang slow, stately, chanted verses in Elvish.

I wished that I could understand what he was singing, although the sound of the words made pictures in my head of a great battle between opposing forces. In response to my wish, the king leaned to me and began translating the words in my ear as each line was chanted:

"Revealing, uncovering, betraying.

Then sudden Felagund there swaying

Sang in answer a song of staying,

Resisting, battling against power,

Of secrets kept, strength like a tower...*"

The words about the battle of powerful and magical wills, fought entirely by the singing of enchanted songs, sent chills down my spine both as Thaladir chanted them and the king translated them. Everyone in the hall remained silent until the song ended, and then remained quiet for several moments more out of respect.

The sobering spell was soon broken, however, as Master Darek used his turn to sing a lighthearted song about the river traffic between the Long Lake and the halls of Mirkwood. All of the elves knew the words and sang along happily. While the song wound up, the court musicians came into the dining-hall and the atmosphere changed.

It was time to dance, and I wondered if I could manage to do so with my back turned to the seneschal the entire time.

t b c


*The song that Thaladir sings for us is from The Silmarillion. It is fragment of the Lay of Leithian, "Of Beren and Luthien". This particular verse refers to the great singing battle between Finrod Felagund, who is the brother of Galadriel, and Sauron, during the Silmaril quest of Beren and Luthien Tinuviel. Felagund perished in the battle, but the two lovers were able to escape.

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