Mary Goes to Mirkwood

Mary Goes to Mirkwood

Actually this is Chapter 32/?

A bit of explaining, first...

No, sorry, we haven't written three new chapters in one week. We've just changed the chapter numbering... for your convenience, dear reader.

We used to have one chapter that was too long to be convenient to read, and two others that were also too long, but had been split into part A and B when posting. Thaladir never approved of that, and we are tired of hearing him clearing his throat most loudly whenever we sit down to plot out our storyline. So, now each chapter is of an acceptable length, and all have their own little number. Order is restored. And Thaladir has gone back to just frowning silently. We can live with *that*. He's quite nice to have around, actually.


Okay, back to the story…

By: Mary A, Malinorne and Sheraiah

Warning: Images of soaking wet elves may dance in your head…among other things that dance…

Disclaimer: Just playing with the elves, the dwarves, and Lord Bard for fun, not profit. We do not claim to have created them, and we certainly believe Tolkien has the last word about Arda! Thaladir and Helca, on the other hand, are our own creations.

Summary: Sheraiah enjoys the benefits of being the only mortal female in Mirkwood, Mary and Mal attend a wedding at Lord Bard's estate as members of the Mirkwood Royal Party.


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~ Sheraiah ~


"You know," I said in my most facetious tone as I rolled off Legolas and snuggled against his side, "it's entirely unfair that I get all sweaty and icky and you don't. If I were to push you into a mud puddle, you'd come out spotless."

"I would not. I assure you that I would be as filthy as any other being that got pushed into a mud puddle, except perhaps Aragorn," he laughed, giving me a wicked look. "And I rather like ng yng you all 'sweaty and icky'."

"How about you also help make me clean and sweet smelling again?" I asked, grinning at him. "You could stand a bit of a wash yourself. If you were to go near any elf with a nose right now, they'd know exactly what you've been up to and with whom."

"Well, I would not wish to drive anyone beyond their limits with jealousy. Up you go!" In one fluid motion, he was standing with me over his shoulder again. I couldn't suppress a startled squeal at the suddenness of my change in position and he chuckled. "We should have plenty of time to see to each other's… cleanliness before we have to dress for dinner."

We were soaking and talking a bit later when I asked him about the decor of the bathing room. He smiled and explained that his father had ordered the ceiling design when the caverns had been constructed to ease Legolas' adjustment to living there.

"The ceiling in my bedchamber is done in the same manner. Adar knows me far too well and he knew that I would find it difficult to rest without being able to look up and see the stars," he explained with fond remembrance.

The wall designs, Legolas had drawn and the drawings had then been translated into the mosaic that now graced the chamber. The archers were all renderings of friends of his and he pointed to each and named them for me. Some of them I would meet at dinner, and some had sailed to Valinor, but more ta fea few he said had gone to reside in Mandos' Halls. His voice never wavered when he said it, but I could still hear the undercurrent of sadness and I quickly changed the subject.

"So where are your rooms?" I picked up a comb and started working on my less-than-manageable locks. He watched me struggle for a minute before taking the comb from my hand and beginning to remove the snarls from my hair far more gently than even Mirime had.

"Through that door," he answered, indicating the portal opposite the one that led to my rooms. I arched an eyebrow at him over my shoulder. "The room you are in was meant for a mistress or a concubine if you prefer, and before you ask, no, I have never had a concubine nor have I ever had a bed partner who used that room until now."

"Legolas, I'm hardly going to get jealous. It'd be very stupid. For one thing, we're friends with bedroom privileges and for another; you're thousands of years older than I am. Of course you've had other bed partners! I'll admit to being flattered that I'm the first who's used that room, though." I grinned over my shoulder at him, and he grinned back.

"Forgive me. I forget sometimes that you are very different from the human women in Arda," he said, finishing a particularly snarled section.

"Okay, now I am curious. I know I\ot tot the only human woman you've ever shared a bed with, but have you with a woman from Arda?" I looked over my shoulder at him again. "You don't have to answer that if you'd rather not. I won't be upset with you."

"Only once, a very long time ago," he replied, his voice soft. "She did not understand that it could never be more than a friendship. She eventually married and had a family, but I do not know if she was truly happy. I was careful never to allow her to see me again. I had caused her enough pain as it was." His hands stilled in my hair and I turned to face him.

"Legolas, listen very carefully to me now." I grasped his chin and made eye contact with him. "You are a very dear friend to me. You seriously make my toes curl. You're probably hands down the most skillful lover I've ever had. You're also a great deal of fun just to be around. I am not, however, in love with you nor will I ever be, beyond the bounds of friendship." I paused for emphasis, never letting go of his chin. "Now, just chill out and enjoy the nefinefits' of our friendship or I'll have to kick your ass."

"I believe the saying is 'you had better pack a lunch and bring a ladder', my lady," he retorted laughing, his normally cheery mood restored.

"I'd pay money to be present if you ever say that to Gimli," I shot back, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "I bet I could even sell tickets. Hear it from the twins, did you?"

"No," he laughed, "I heard it from Haldir."

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

~ Mal ~

Reluctantly, I disentangled myself from the seneschal when he said it was time to dress. He was right, of course, I felt calm enough again after Lord Bard's exceedingly careful examination to think about other things. Such as the wedding, the reason why we had come to his estate in the first place. I looked forward to seeing Haryl again, and I hoped Master Darek's daughter was as good-natured and level-headed as her father. The sweet young man deserved a fine wife, and preferably someone more clever and straight-forward than himself.

The gowns that had been made for us to wear were delightful, and very different from anything I had seen or worn in Mirkwood. The one Ithilwen assisted me with was silvery grey, a colour I at first expected to look rather dull beside the more colourful wear that seemed to be extremely popular in Esgaroth as well as here. But then she puffed up the short sleeves, which turned out to have a great number of slits that would show off the bright raspberry-coloured material beneath.

There were similar long slits in the skirt, one on each side, as well as one in the front and one in the back. They went nearly all the way up to my waist and I decided they would move very nicely at the dance later in the evening. The skirt was rather long, but my ankles were showing, so it would still have been unusually daring for a formal gathering at the king's court.

Thranduil was still in the room with us, seated in the chair Bard had used earlier, and he appeared very pleased, almost proud. And dashingly handsome. Such a pity there was no time to spare! With a small sigh, I turned my attention back to my gown.

What really made it different from anything I had worn in the Elvenking's halls, except for the skimpy concubine dress, was the bodice. It was cut lower than anything I had seen on an elleth, and had some kind of built-in effect that hugged my chest and pushed my bosom up in a manner Thaladir would deem most unseemly. Strangely enough, he did not look more disapproving than usual, but seemed to follow the procedure with some interest from his position at the door. It felt good to have him and his long sword there, just in case the lord of the house should decide to return to have a last peek at the now forbidden fruit.

I felt very beautiful when Ithilwen completed her creation by putting some red and pink roses in my hair, which she had pinned to the top of my head in an intricate and very elven-looking way. At last, she fastened the emerald necklace around my neck. I was a bit worried about how Lord Bard would react to seeing his ancestor's jewels, if he would recognise them from some painting, but could hardly blame Thranduil for wanting to display his honestly earned spoils of war. After all, the Lord of Dale at that time had given the gems to the Elvenking as thanks for his service. And I loved wearing them.

I donned my footwear, sandals with little shining stones in red and white on the thongs, and I was ready to go. So was Mary, and we both turned and whirled around before the mirrors for quite some time, admiring ourselves and each other. I was delighted by the whole outfit, but truly, I would have been glad to wear anything at all in the presence of Bard II, just to not have to endure his lustful stares in public a.
.

Not that the Lord of Dale had been a bad experience; hinds nds had felt very pleasant on my body and he had a much more gentle touch than I had ever expected from a man. But I was embarrassed with how easily I had allowed myself be seduced by his skills, literally to the point of purring while he fondled me in his lap, before the very eyes of Mary and Thaladir.

I was happy the seneschal seemed not to hold my behaviour at the hands of Bard against me. True, it had been what the king desired, but I had not thought I would enjoy it to that extent.

And then the outrageous discussion that had followed, of how Bard II wanted to claim us for himself had upset me somewhat as well, no matter how well I knew that the king would never send us away like that. Yet I was happy that the good lord would not be alone at the party, and I hoped that Helca would be reasonably nice to him. Sometimes she reminded me of a poisonous spider, and I did not think it beyond her to throw him out as soon as she had taken what she wanted.

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

~ Mary ~

The brazen Lord Bard's more than sufficient examination, followed by his outrageous proposals, had put me in a surly mood. And I was worried that I had botched my bridge assignment, even if I had not formally been given one to carry out. Thranduil asked Thaladir to take Mal aside and calm her, and then wrapped both of his arms around me when they had stepped away.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I just couldn't let him... I didn't want to let him... make me feel anything." Beyond remaining calm and allowing Thranduil to flow through my mind without resistance, I had no idea what had been expected of me. The king had assured me beforehand that I would be safe during the private audience as long as I did not try to impose my own will on the situation. And I felt that I had failed miserably.

"You did fine, excellent," he assured me soothingly. "I could not be more pleased." He coaxed me over to the chair that Lord Bard had so recently abandoned. After tossing aside the pillows that had covered the smooth marble of the throne-like seat, he sat upon the hard surface with a happy sigh, and drew me into his lap.

"Really? I did okay?" I asked as I snuggled up against him. "Do you mean that? I was hoping you got enough information. Because, there is no way I am going to let that man see me again without my clothes on." Thranduil assured me that if there were any corners of the good Lord of Dale's mind left unexplored, which he doubted, then Helca would find them out during her time alone with him after the wedding feast.

Now the king's generous offer of the ice-maiden's services to the eager Bard made perfect sense. She had bragged in the carriage about knowing him since he was a young man. She must be more familiar with how his mind worked than Mal or I could ever hope, or want, to be. As I calmed down I realized how lovely it was to be in the king's lap and nearly naked.

"Do we still have to go to the wedding?" I teased. Unbidden came the thought of Thranduil swimming in the big marble bathtub in the adjoining chamber, and just the idea of how his wet skin would look golden in that candlelight made my heart beat faster. It might even be fun if all of us could get in together, and skip the whole ceremony. I wondered if Thaladir would jump in if the king commanded him.

"There is no time for that kind of play now," said the king with a chuckle. "Perhaps when we return to my halls, the four of us will visit the bathing pools..."

"Thranduil!" I cried while covering his lips with my hand, shocked that he was voicing aloud my thoughts, which were more of a private joke than an actual desire. What if Mal and Thaladir had heard him? I looked around to see where they were.

The king's concubine, still looking a bit flustered from her examination experience, was walking towards us. The seneschal was opening the door for Miriel and Ithilwen, who had brought our gowns.

"Darn, I guess it's time to get my dress on."

"It will be a pleasure to assist you back out of it tonight," whispered the king. With a last pat or two, he stood me up and turned me over to the elleth. He sat back at perfect ease and watched Mal and me dress with the contented attitude of a well-fed lion surveying his pride of lionesses.

There had been arguments back in Mirkwood when I had insisted that Mal and I needed more seasonally appropriate attire for the spring wedding. All we owned were the dark, long sleeved, floor-dragging gowns we were forced into wearing while dwelling within the halls. Thaladir, at first, was not convinced, but the king seemed open-minded to the idea.

I insisted that being covered up would arouse suspicions that we were hiding something. "Like scars or bruises," I added. "Whip marks, shackle marks, stuff like that." Even Thaladir had to begrudgingly agree that the mortal minds of Esgaroth were capable of the most unseemly imaginings.

And now it felt wonderful to wear shorter sleeves and an off the floor hem for a change. Miriel put a sprig of lavender in my hair that was the exact same shade as thein uin underlining of my gown that peeked out from slits cleverly placed in the shimmering ivory fabric that laid over it.

Thranduil stood to hurry us on our way and I realized with a start that Thaladir had not left the dressing room either. He was standing as still as a sentry by the door, his hand on the hilt of his sword, prepared, I assumed, to fight off any more attempts on our privacy. I curtseyed for him, which he acknowledged with a courteous nod.

"Thanks for being here, Your Excellency," I said. "I'm sorry you had to watch all that happen with Lord Bard and us. I could tell you weren't happy, but it made me feel better knowing you were here with your sword and everything..."

I stuttered to a stop, not sure if I was even making an impression on the old grouch. But I thought I might have seen a smile, just a hint of one, when he turned to offer Mal his arm to escort her out the door.

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~ Mal ~


The wedding ceremony was to be held outside, Miriel told us, in the formal part of the great garden that surrounded the manor house. There were a lot of people there already when we arrived at early sunset, so I didn't get a very good look at it, but it appeared to be built up from series of labyrinths. Some were tiny box-hedges in floral patterns on the neatly raked gravel, others were made from roses not yet in full bloom, both lower ones and climbing on trellises, and at the end were high hedges with dark-green foliage that looked next to impenetrable.

Lord Bard II had assumed a position in front of a fountain that added a soft sprinkling murmur to the whispered conversation between the wedding guests. The gravel path leading to the fountain had been raked to look like waves of water flowing from it, and on either side of the path were yellow roses and lavender. We joined the people behind this nicely smelling barrier and waited with them for what would happen next.

Then a mighty trumpet sound was heard, and soon others chimed in. It sounded more like a call to arms than a wedding announcement, but that was clearly what it was, as all conversation stopped and everyone stood waiting in respectful silence.

Four people came walking up the path, first two men and then two women. I immediately recognised Haryl, and I assumed the older man at his side would be his father. The woman behind him I later learned was the bride's mother; the sweet and already blushing girl she was leading was of course Haryl's beloved.

The young man looked very nice in his costume in various blue colours, and he had a wide silver-belt low on his hips. It had little rings and pendants that tinkled like small bells when he moved, and I thought it could only have been made by dwarves. It probably was, as the Lonely Mountain was nearby, and there were several dwarves among the guests.

H's 's soon-to-be wife was equally endearing in her pink dress and with white flowers in her tawny hair. The necklace she was wearing was made in the same style as his belt, only much more delicate and feminine-looking. We had been told that her name was Lilly, the most normal-sounding name so far. She was pretty as a flower, of course, and seemed to smile shyly at all times.

The actual ceremony was very brief. There were no promises, no declarations of eternal love or questions to the couple of whether they desired to become husband and wife. It appeared all to have been settled beforehand, perhaps at the betrothal Haryl had mentioned this winter.

Bard himself was the officiant, and somehow I was not surprised. Though the humans of Middle-Earth not seldom mentioned Eru, there seemed to be no clergy. Or if there was, its members either lived secluded lives or could not be told from the rest of the people.

The four newcomers stood for a moment before Lord Bard, and then the older man placed Haryl's right hand in the lord's left and stood aside after a short bow. Likewise, the woman put her daughter's hand in Bard's and then curtsied before retreating behind the floral fence. The lord smiled benevolently and appeared to enjoy every moment of having the crowd's eyes directed at him. He joined the young couple's hands together, and then, with an exaggerated gesture, pulled out a wide ribbon from his pocket. The brightly red ribbon fluttered in the breeze as he lifted it over his head, and the ladies in the audience got a tearful longing in their eyes. This must be the peek of the ceremony already!

After a few long moments, Bard finally lowered his arm, and proceeded to wrap the red fabric around the wrists of Haryl and his bride.

"I bind your hands and hearts together," he intoned with a deep, serious voice. "May your souls be entwined for all times, fastened by an invisible bond more lasting than this outer sign of your union."

Then a woman stepped forward, Master Darek's wife. She filled a small silver cup from the fountain, and lifted it to the lips of the bride and groom.

"Drink from never-ending wealth," said Lord Bard. "May your health never fail and your offspring add to the glory of our people like raindrops fill the sea."

I couldn't see the girl clearly, but Haryl didn't appear to mind drinking fountain-water the least. It looked reasonably clear from what I could see, but the thought wasn't too nice. The woman seemed pleased and soon joined the crowd again.

Finally, a man came forth, the bride's father. He carried two pieces of cloth, crude hand-woven wool, but embroidered with an adorable pattern of bright flowers and leaves in richer material. As he fastened these as cloaks around the shoulders of the couple, Lord Bard brushed the faintest hint of a tear from his eye. He seemed very touched, and I wondered if he perhaps thought of his own youth, and the wife he had but lost too early.

"Adorn yourselves in simplicity and honour," continued the lord. I cast a glance at Thaladir, who was nearly smiling. I could see he very much approved of honour. "Be not heavy burdens to each other, but always look to the needs of your spouse. May your years together be light and warming, to body as well as spirit, for life as well as for this night." The smile disappeared immediately from Thaladir's face at the public referral to nightly activities newlyweds were supposed, and even encouraged, to engage in.

"But now," Bard declared in a not so serene voice, lifting his head to scan the crowd around him, "the feast will begin!"

At his encouraging gesture, the couple turned, somewhat awkwardly because of their tied hands, and began to walk slowly down the path. Young women with large baskets strew flower petals before their feet and they were a beautiful sight to behold. Lord Bard followed them, and then came the rest of us. The slow procession took us all the way through the beautiful garden and its variable landscape of trees and bushes, mixed with meadows and flowerbeds.

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

~ Mary ~

Weddings arenatunature romantic. To witness the binding of two young lives together as one in front of their loved ones is always touching. As I stood with the king, his seneschal, and his concubine, I was glad I did not have to worry about any of that nonsense with the elves. For some reason, yet to be explored, it was not considered unseemly at all for Thranduil to have mortal females for companionship in his royal bedchamber without benefit of wedlock.

Both Mal and I knew, of course, that Legolas had a mother, and elves never die, so there had to be a Mrs. Thranduil in existence somewhere in Arda. But we were happy enough for a while that she was not living in the Mirkwood halls. I had finally brought the subject up with Miriel, when she was in a gossiping mood, and had learned that Legolas's mother, who she did not name, had sailed off into the west not long after Oropher had brought his people over the Misty Mountains and into the great Greenwood forest. More than that, she did not know. Or would not say.

The wedding ceremony proceeded quickly, which was a relief, and it was so quaint and charming that I was not bored at all. Only anxious to see everything get over with so the king could assist me out of my gown like he had promised.

As the newlyweds left the garden area, someone from behind one of the carefully manicured hedges let doves loose and they swooped over our heads and out into the sky. I think it was the only thing that made the king smile. But even the seneschal seemed to be in unusually good spirits as he escorted Mal behind the king and me to the feasting tables.

It was a real pleasure to sit next to Master Darek, who was in turn surprised to see me with the Royal Mirkwood Party. The last time we had seen each other, I had been raving like a lunatic about being a bridge in the king's household and then ran away to fly off on an eagle to Rivendell. The poor man. I assured him that I had come to my senses and returned home of my own free will, without threat, coercion, or undue pressure from anyone.

"You always have a safe haven in my home," he replied kindly and then introduced me to his plump but pretty wife, Alma, who was seated on his other side. The mother of the bride. Her eyes shone with pride as I complimented both her lovely daughter and new gentlemanly son-in-law. I told her Haryl had made a very good impression on me while he visited Mirkwood.

"Are you one of the Elvenking's concubines, my dear?" she asked me sweetly, as if it was a normal thing to ask a person a question like that at the dinner table. I turned to Thranduil, but he just nodded at me as if he trusted me to answer without any help.

"No, no, I am not a concubine." I looked sideways at Master Darek, who had a worried look on his face, and then turned back to his wife to continue, "That is too much work for me. I am more like a glorified house pet." Mrs. Darek's eyes grew wide. "Although, I do have some duties around the palace," I assured her. "Minor duties." I decided to quit while ahead. But, it sounded kind of unseemly to just leave it at house pet.

"That sounds interesting. Such as…?" She asked. She just had to ask.

"Um, well, yes, of course, let me think. . . Oh, I know! Sometimes, I polish his desk." She nodded and smiled, relieved, I think, to hear me mention something so ordinary. There was a fanfare of trumpets signalling the first course of the wedding feast, and I was able to drop the subject entirely as I pretended to be interested in my meal.

I realized that Lord Bard must have some sense in his thick head after all, when I noticed how far away he had seated the dwarves from our table. Mal did not seem as interested in their behavior as she had been at the inn, but I giggled when they stood in a line in front of the bride and groom and bowed, one after the other, and offered their services to the newlyweds in their gruff but gentlemanly way.

One white-bearded and richly apparelled dwarf did not join them. He had been carried about on a chair by four of the others during the wedding and had been set in place afterwards at the head of their table. He looked older than the Lonely Mountain that was visible in the distance beyond the fortified walls, and twice as sturdy. He was Gloin, Gimli's father, and an honoured guest.

Even Thaladir did not seem overly displeased when the elderly dwarf's presence was mentioned and toasted by Lord Bard II. I figured there must be a permanent truce between those elves and dwarves who had fought together during the Battle of the Five Armies.

As if by magic, Anarion suddenly appeared from out of the hedges and approached the table. The seneschal stood and leaned forward to listen to whatever message was relayed. When he did so his robe parted and I noticed he was wearing the same tawny sash that had been my blindfold the night before. I turned back to the king.

"Did Thaladir tell you I thought your friend had stolen his sash?" I asked him, keeping my voice low so no one else could hear me. "And I blamed him for stealing my underwear, too. I hope he never finds out I did that." The king smiled at me serenely, and replied.
ou mou made an old elf very happy last night."

Old? Elf? Ah ha! A clue. So my mystery lover was an old elf. I sat back in my chair and thought about that. But it soon became obvious that it was not a very helpful piece of information. I was already certain it had been an elf. And he was obviously not a youngster of any type considering the skill and expertise he had displayed while taking me on one of the most satisfying sexual adventures that I had ever had so far in Middle-earth. With the exception of any time I spent with Thranduil, of course.

Also, I was pretty sure it would have taken more boldness than any of the younger elves had to approach His Majesty with such a request. It was hard to imagine any elf with that kind of courage, but that was beside the point. Old made more sense than young, so as a clue, it was not a very handy one.

The night before, only the silver-haired swan-masked minstrel had seemed enough at ease near the king to sway me towards believing it could have been him. And his eyes had displayed the depth of wisdom normally only seen in the nobility of the elven race. I hoped it was him and wondered if I would ever know for sure.

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

~ Mal ~


Finally, we came out on a lawn, where a number of tables had been placed in a half circle. In the middle was an empty space, which would probably be used for some sort of entertainment. Torches had been put in stands in many places, but though it was getting dusky, it would still be some time before they needed to be lit.

To one side was an elevated platform, small and only holding two chairs and a table. But it was richly decorated and obviously meant for the newlyweds. They took their seats under loud cheers from the crowd and I thought it was a nice custom to have them seated alone and a little bit away from their relatives. Everyone could admire them, but they were free to talk to each other without being disturbed. With their hands still tied together like that, conversation would probably most concern their trouble eating, but perhaps that was a wise way to start family life, by literally being forced to help each other.

The largest tables were slightly bow-formed, which would allow the people sitting there to see and talk to each other, despite facing the open space in the middle. Lord Bard had approached Helca and with a bow nearly to the ground, which made him appear rather a page than the lord of the estate, he invited her to take his hand. She accepted with a haughty little nod, nearly invisible, but smiled to the crowd when he led her to the table and seated her beside him in the middle.

White-clad staff assisted the rest of us to our places, the king and Mary to the lord's right, and Thaladir and I to his left. That way, I came to sit between Bard and Thaladir, and Mary between Thranduil and the bride's father, Master Darek. Beside him was his wife, and at the other end of the table sat Haryl's parents.

As we waited for the others to get seated, I wondered if the good lord would manage to keep his hands to himself, perhaps to better deserve Helca's favours. A glance at them was enough for me to feel that my thighs would be reasonable safe. Both Bard and the ice-maiden seemed very comfortable in each other's company, and they were a handsome couple. One could almost think they were the ones getting married this day.

That thought had possibilities, and I came to wonder if it would perhaps be feasible to get rid of Helca by marrying her off to him. It would be politically advantageous for the king to have close bonds with his ally, and add to the personal happiness of two people as well. But then Thranduil had said earlier that he needed her services in his treasure chamber. Maybe when Canath got older and more experienced, then. Which would likely take a century or two. Well, one could at least dream.

The food being served was delicious, bread and circuses in one. Dish after dish was introduced with some sort of music, mighty horn blasts for the meat, soft flute tunes for the lighter fare. Everything was lifted high into the air by the white-clad servants and carried around the full circle for everyone to admire, before they were placed on the various tables. Most ended up with the newlyweds, or our table, but as space became scarcer, many things were discreetly moved and all were offered more to eat than anyone could possibly wish for. Even the seemingly insatiable dwarves, who I guessed had arrived from the Lonely Mountain.

A wonderful tune introduced the most spectacular dish of all, a whole swan that had been stuffed to look like it was alive. The white bird was carried by four young men, and only when it was placed in front of Lord Bard and Helca I saw that the back part of it had been replaced with a rack of lamb. I was relieved, but a little bit disappointed too. It would have been very exotic to eat a little bit of swan, but its meat was probably leathery and inedible.

Lord Bard II behaved like a perfect gentleman the whole dinner, and though he mostly occupied himself with Helca, he gave me several compliments on my appearance, including my most unusual necklace. I couldn't quite decide if he was eyeing it so closely to have a reason for peeking down my bodice, or if he tried to make sure, without asking the king, if these were indeed the famous emeralds of Girion. But as he didn't say anything about it, I decided not to be the one to breach the subject. The food and the whole atmosphere were more than enough excitement for me without bringing in what could become touchy diplomacy.

As soon as the dessert was served, iced bomb with many-coloured sparklin, in, the entertainment began, as rich and varied as the food. There were all kinds of performers; jugglers, acrobats and a man who demonstrated his skill in swallowing sharp objects, such as daggers and swords. When darkness came, the torches were lit, most of ins inside the half-circle of tables, so that most of the light would fall on the entertainers. The art of the fire-eaters was as beautiful as it was dangerous and I thought nothing could be more exciting.

Then suddenly everything became quiet as the artists left their improvised stage. A faint sound could be heard, strange music that gradually became louder. The melody was unusual, much more foreign to my ears than the music of the elves had been even in the very beginning of my stay in Mirkwood. The musicians at first seemed invisible, but as they came into the torchlight I could see that they had just been hard to see because of their clothing.

They were all dressed in black, pants and tunics and loose-fitting material draped over their chest and shoulders. On their heads they wore something most of all reminding of turbans, and most of their faces were covered as well. Only their eyes were visible, dark and mesmerisingd thd their hands were a tanned bronze colour. I could only imagine what the rest of them looked like, but I decided they must be very handsome.

The music they played changed character when they had seated themselves on a carpet that had been laid out on the grass. It became slower, more sensual, and I couldn't help moving in my seat, but only a little. I didn't need to look at Thaladir to know what he thought about not sitting still. I turned and looked at him anyway, but his gaze was locked in a distance. I looked the same way, but it took long before I spotted the dancers.

In stark contrast to the musicians, the women were hardly wearing anything at all. They had skirts, but very short and veily ones, and the piece of fabric that barely covered their chest was so thin most could be seen through it. As the dancers moved, so did the fabric, a tantalising, sensual display. It looked like poetry, and naughty poetry at that.

The dancing became more and more suggestive, the movements bolder, and soon the newly-weds were not the only ones blushing. Some were squirming in their seats, and Haryl's mother, who was a sensible-looking woman, explained that this kind of entertainment was a new-fangled idea. Her husband shyly nodded his agreement but Lord Bard replied with a laugh, adding that the purpose was just to put the young couple in the right mood, of course. Somehow his wink did not convince me.

I turned my gaze to the newlyweds. The bride was blushing, a good sign according to Haryl's mother. Whether it was also a good sign that the groom was just as red in the face she did not tell.

Thaladir appeared unaffected, but I was fairly sure he would store the impressions in his keen mind, only to bring them out in full passion at a later point, in private. I looked forward to it. Mary and the king seemed both to enjoy the sight of the dancers, and Thranduil even called a funny looking man to him, talking like they were making some kind of arrangements that concerned the performers. I wondered if we might perhaps see some exotic entertainment in Mirkwood later on. If his seneschal would approve, which I doubted.


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

~ Mary ~

The wine bowls at Lord Bard II's table that Thaladir's drinking lessons had prepared me for were silver on the outside and gold on the inside. The intricately carved surfaces bore tell-tale signs of being dwarven-made, because the craftsmanship was exquisite but the subject matter displayed was not elf inspired. On one side was an etching of the Lonely Mountain and on the other was a detailed representation of the Long Lake. Despite my practicing, I was too afraid of spilling anything on my frothy gown to do more than take cautious sips every now and then, like when there was a toast.

The sun had set while we ate and the clear blue sky overhead began to turn purple. Just ae she shadows around us began to deepen into evening shade, the dinner music, after all of the spectacular fanfares that had accompanied the revealed main courses were finished, softened pleasantly and unobtrusively into the background. After the dessert was served, some torches were lit and a louder, quicker, and more energetic melody began to play. Suddenly, from out of the surrounding hedges, a troupe of entertainers trotted out into the open space in the middle of the ring of tables to polite applause.

The dusky-skinned performers began a rapid but perfectly timed routine of tumbling and acrobatics that dazzled the eye. Their mostly black costumes had tiny spangles strategically placed along the seams which sparkled and flashed as they dove and flipped and rolled and turned and leapt over and under each other with fluid ease.

It had grown much darker as they performed, and the few torches that were burning outside of the ring of tables provided barely adequate light. As a finale, each of the tumblers was thrown a fiery burning brand which they caught, twirled, threw high in the air, and then caught again and began their tumbling routine all over again, but this time with the flaming batons. The horns and flutes stopped playing and only a driving drumbeat set the pace as the whirling, twirling wheels of fire mesmerized the awestruck audience.

Then, as if by a silent signal, they each stood still. One by one, they were tossed fresh unlit torches, which they placed in holders in front of each of our tables. There was a moment of stillness before they set them all ablaze simultaneously with their fiery batons. Each newly lit torch was tilted toward the center of the performance area providing a bright if somewhat wavering spotlight effect.

Jugglers replaced the tumblers now as the music kicked up to an even more frantic pace. The flickering torchlight seemed to keep time with the performers as they began by tossing balls, plates, and various fruits, vegetables, and even eggs to one another. As each item grew more delicate or dangerous, the frenetic melody increased with an intensity that added suspense.

At one point several swords and daggers were spinning in a dizzyingly frightening fashion between a circle of the jugglers. Each one was caught by a large, bare-chested grinning man, standing in the middle. He would swallow each sharp blade, to a chorus of gasps from the womenfolk in the audience, before pulling it out of his throat and tossing it back into the flashing mix. After he had captured and returned every one of them, they all stopped, and then bowed to thunderous applause, cheers, and whistles.

Then the music became slow, and sinuous, like snake-charming music almost. The jugglers left the performance area and melted into the night as the previously invisible musicians replaced them in the center area. The drum beat slowed down to a halting and slightly hesitating rhythm while a group of scantily clad female dancers glided and gyrated their way into view and began to weave around the tables.

The exotic dancers were mesmerizing, although they drew more than a few glares from the women guests at the feast. No one dared voice out loud an objection to Lord Bard's choice of entertainment, but more than a few frowns spoke louder than words. Although none of the male guests seemed to mind, including Thaladir.

I wanted to try on one of the little skirts they wore and try out a few of their dance moves for His Majesty's eyes only at some point in the near future. A squeeze on my thigh from his large warm hand let me know that the thought was appreciated. I put one of my own hands over the top of his to keep it there. With his free hand, Thranduil gestured to the shadows and within seconds a lean dark-haired man, with a long funny moustache, approached him and bent to listen.

The king slipped his hand out from under mine and held it with his other in a way that looked like he was describing items of varying widths. After a moment, the skinny man stood and glanced at both Mal and me before bowing to Thranduil and leaving. Before I could ask about it, another fanfare of trumpets signalled the end of the primitively sensual dancing music. There was a pause, and then an ear-splitting high-pitched whistling sound ripped through the silence.

Bang! With a glittering explosion of sparkling butterflies and flowers, a fireworks show began. All of the guests were equally delighted and oohs and aahs accompanied each increasingly spectacular dazzling display. The dwarves of Dale presented them as a gift to the newlyweds, and their wizardry with pyrotechnics was amazing to behold.

Horses galloped across plains of waving grasses, swans floated on silvery currents, and fruit trees grew, blossomed, and bore fruit, and with each new display there were not just the sparkling pictures drawn on the night sky, but the sounds and the scents as well.

Butterflies flew close enough that I could almost feel the breeze made by their wings. Skylarks, doves, glittery eyed ravens that were followed by majestic eagles, soared over our heads. It all ended with a dragon that was arrayed in a brilliant coat of rainbow-colored scales and breathed fire. The monster exploded with a shower of fragrant rose petals that fell on us like a gentle dry rain. The crowd cheered with appreciation.

The Lord Bard rose and lifted his drinking bowl towards the newlyweds. Everyone stood and toasted the happy couple. With whoops of laughter, some of the younger guests led the happy pair off of their platform and then merrily escorted them to their bedchamber. Everyone in attendance followed behind to make sure they did not get lost along the way there. I looked around for Mal, who was walking with Thaladir. The lean man with the moustache had sidled up to the king again, but by the time I noticed he was there, he turned away and left us alone.

We paused for a moment longer so the seneschal could receive some orders from His Majesty. Lord Bard walked past us looking as proud as a peacock with Helca by his side. She wore her usual haughty triumphant face, but I did not feel envious of her at all.

I am not sorry to say that we did not make it to the newlywed's bedchamber door with the rest of the group. Thranduil took a sudden detour along the way and ere ere alone in his room, finally. As soon as he had shut the door behind us, the king swept me into his arms but, instead of kissing me, he leaned back and grinned.

"We're going to miss the dancing," I pouted, although I did not care at all.

"No, we are not," replied the king. "I have something better in mind, would you like to see?" He reached within his tunic and withdrew a flimsy floating piece of fabric and ribbon that I instantly recognized with a gasp.

"Where did you get this?" I snatched it eagerly from him and held it to myself. I could not wait to try on the tiny dancing-girl skirt. And we would not need any music for this performance.

With his usual swiftness, Thranduil was already assisting me out of my gown as he had promised me he would.

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

~ Mal ~


When the fireworks began, I was deaf and blind to all other impressions for the whole duration. It was like the whole sky was suddenly filled with flowers, horses, butterflies and much more. I had never seen, or heard, or smelt anything like it.

I was still in a happy haze when the seneschal took my arm and made me rise from my chair, and as I followed with him behind Mary and the king, it was as if I could see sparkling images dancing over her dress. Not until we were inside the manor house did I wake up completely, but my head cleared when I realized we had stopped outside the open door to a cozy-looking room.

"My young friends and subjects," Lord Bard declared solemnly, but with glittering eyes, addressing Haryl and his bride. The young couple wore mixed expressions of worry and anticipation that changed to relief when the ribbon was untied from their wrists. "I now declare you husband and wife," he shouted merrily, waving the ribbon in the air, and the blushing couple disappeared into their bedchamber under loud cheering.

The door was closed behind them, and even bolted from the outside. I could hear Thaladir muttering something about "barbarous customs", but he looked the perfect proper elf, of course. Mary and the king disappeared somewhere along the way, and I contemplated eschewing the dancing by drawing the seneschal with me into one of the mazes, but it was useless. As soon as I tried taking one little step to the side, he placed his hand over mine and informed me in a stern whisper that it was our duty to attend the festivities in their entirety, in His Majesty's place.

I got back at him when we were dancing. The thinly veiled southern beauties were back, weaving in and out between the couples, often tempting, but seemingly never quite allowing themselves to be touched.

"Your Excellency," I whispered silkily, "do you know that I have taken dancing lessons?" He shook his head in a gesture of polite disinterest, but suddenly became rigid. "Yes," I continued, casting a glance at a girl that was writhing before a couple of enthusiastic spectators, "that kind of dancing. Perhaps you would like a demonstration?"

He clutched me to his chest, very tightly, as if to physically prevent me from doing anything unseemly then and there. But I could feel through his robes that he would very much like just that. He seemed to have trouble speaking when he replied between tightly clenched jaws. "I command you to consider your position and cease your inappropriate speech at this instant."

"But of course, Your Excellency," I replied cheerfully, and stifled a laugh when he relaxedt het he kept holding me very close, and I couldn't help thinking that it was above of all to conceal his own most unseemly state.

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

~ Sheraiah ~

Dinner in Thranduil's Halls was something one definitely dressed for. I had acquiesced to wearing a dress, but one in my own style. It was a dark teal with a low neckline and a tight bodice. I was beginning to see a pattern to the clothing that filled my wardrobes here. It wasn't cut so low that I was uncomfortable wearing it, but it definitely showed both my assets to their best advantage. I stood before the long mirror, critically examining my appearance.

"Cleavage for days," I commented to Mirime, rolling my eyes. "A very wise elleth once told me that males are like babies and want the first thing they see: breasts." She must have understood me, because she began to giggle. She was very nice, but I missed Duiniel's dry humor. Suddenly, a rather naughty thought occurred to me and I grinned evilly. "Let's make the most of this, shall we?"

I grabbed the cosmetic bag and applied bronzing powder sparingly to the valley between my breasts. I stood back and studied my handiwork for a moment and nodded, satisfied. Walking to my dressing table, I rummaged through the little bag of jewelry I had and selected an ankh pendant inlaid with paua shell that hung just above the area where I had added the bronzing powder. The teal of the dress was picked up by the inlaid shell and the bronzer made the valley seem deeper. Mirime giggled again and haltingly told me that no other female in the room would even be looked at that night.

"Good," I replied. "It'll be poetic justice if Legolas not only has to deal with a tent pole all through dinner, but has to deal with every other male in the room trying to look down my dress." She gave me yet another shocked look, but whether it was because of the lack of decorum or the lack of deference I couldn't tell. I decided to go for broke. "And yes, every damn one of them will try it. I even caught Lord Elrond at it while we were in Rivendell." She choked, turning beet red and quickly began tidying my wardrobe. "Mirime, you really have to learn to lighten up." I patted her on the back and went fishing in my jewelry bag for my earrings that matched the ankh.

I was more than a little nervous as I waited for Legolas to escort me to dinner. I had been in Mirkwood for over twenty-four hours, but this would be the first time I would be formally presented as Legolas' 'friend'. I hoped that my guys would be seated close enough to converse with.

The prince stepped through the door of the bathing room and stopped. His eyes traveled from the top of my head to the hem of my dress and then back up, stopping at the ankh. He crossed the distance between us and took my hands, but instead of kissing them, or my cheek, he pressed a kiss just above the neckline of my dress, just to the left of the pendant.

"I think thatm inm inclined towards impatience tonight," he commented, lightly running his fingers over the place he had just kissed.

"Didn't you want me to wear the clothes you had made for me?" I asked, in all innocence.

"Pure evil behind that innocent façade," he chuckled, tucking my hand into the crook of his arm. "I cannot wait to get you back here after dinner so that I can peel that garment off you inch by inch." His eyes had that familiar smoky look and I grinned, my nervousness forgotten. He was definitely going to be dealing with a tent poleod tod thing even his tunics are long enough to cover such things.

Mirime's prediction proved correct and I had to laugh at Legolas' expression any time any male came up to speak with me. There was definitely going to be payback for the falsely innocent looks I threw him and for the way I ever so accidentally grasped his thigh too close to his 'problem area' under the table, but I was looking forward to receiving it as much as he was looking forward to administering it.

Dinner was delicious, and again very different frhat hat I had become used to in Rivendell. I had read somewhere that wood elves were considered to be the hicks of elven society, but I couldn't agree. They were not as open and ritualized as the elves of Rivendell, but they certainly weren't hicks as I understood the term and where I was from, hick meant missing teeth and a family tree that didn't branch.

I was completely captivated by the forest realm in a way that Rivendell, with all its beauty, hadn't managed. Perhaps it was because of my deep love for the wild areas of my own home that I could appreciate Mirkwood and its inhabitants more than most of my contemporaries. Whatever the reason, I was enchanted and I hoped that I would be able to explore beyond the gates soon.

We stayed for enough of the dancing that we would not be considered rude or depraved, the latter of which neither of us could have denied once we got back to my rooms. Horseback riding would be out of the question for me for several days.

t b c