Mary Goes to Mirkwood

Mary Goes to Mirkwood

Chapter 25/?

Authors: Mary A, Malinorne and Sheraiah

Warning: Adult sexual situations

Summary: After the Spring Feast, Mary and Malinorne depart for Esgaroth with the King, Sheraiah and Legolas arrive in Mirkwood.



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

~ Mal ~

Thranduil looked expectant when I came to him, and I could tell his time with Mary had been good. He did not say anything about it, he never did, and I was happy for that. His eyes were glowing with the fire she had kindled, but it did not matter, as his heat would not soon burn out. He grinned and told me to undress him, the way I had but recently done with his seneschal.

I slowly divested him, which was a lot more difficult than with Thaladir, as the king would not stand still but grabbed at me more often than not, and then he did the same for me. He lifted me onto his bed, sat back against the pillows in a half-reclining fashion, and made an inviting gesture. I was not late to straddle his lap and throw my arms around his neck. He kissed me fiercely, but held me still in a firm grip on my hips, not allowing me to move too much against him.

"Not yet," he said when I groaned with frustration. "I want you to tell me about Thaladir. Was he thoroughly relaxed when you left him?" I did not think for a second that it was only his concern for his seneschal's well being that made him ask that. It would have been so easy for him to just read what he wanted from my mind, but he assured me that he found far more pleasure in hearing me speak.

It was difficult at first, no matter how much I trusted him, but soon I found it strangely exciting. Occasionally, he stopped me to ask, "Did he touch you lihis?his?" followed by a caress to some part of my body, and even if he was right, I quickly learnt that it was more fun to say, "No, not exactly like thatt alt almost." Then he repeated the action, sometimes several times, until he had me moaning and begging him to stop, if he wanted to hear more. It felt like the game lasted for hours.

It felt like that in the morning too, when the sun woke me earlier than I was prepared to get out of bed. It was the main day of the spring festivities, as Thaladir sourly reminded me when he came in to fetch something from the king's dressing room, and he did not have the time for idle talk with a sleepy mortal. He was followed by a smiling Ithilwen, who made a funny face at the frowning seneschal when he was looking the other way.

I quickly washed and got into the dress she had brought me, a floor-length soft pink thing with wide sleeves that didn't reach longer than to my elbow. I wondered if it would be warm enough for the outdoor part of the celebration and was relieved when she showed me the knitted cream-coloured shawl that went with it.

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

~ Mary ~

When I awoke the morning of the spring feast, I was surprised to find a bowl full of freshly cut flowers and fragrant new spring leaves in each room of my chambers. Miriel explained that it was a tradition to fill the halls with the colors and scents of the new season. It was amazingly refreshing to my spirits to see the bouquets after such a good night's sleep, I was anxious to get ready for the days activities.

Normally, the night before such an exciting series of planned events, I would have been awake for hours just imagining the fun to be had. The king's wine-drinking instructions had proved an excellent sedative, better than a sleep spell. The wine had little to do with it, since not another drop had crossed my lips after my underwear came off. Thinking about him filled me with even more energy than my morning coffee.

Miriel followed me across the corridor and into a small, previously unused and vacant, room adjacent to Mal's door, which had recently been renovated into a private bathing area for the king's concubine and me. I hated having to get dressed every time I wanted to take a bath in order to travel through the halls to the bathing pool chamber. This way I could slip across the hall in my nightshift and only the silent sentinels stood as mute witnesses to my unseemly behavior, and apparently they never saw fit to complain about it.

After I was finished with my bath, Miriel brought me the first Mirkwood gown ever made for me in a color other than a deep hue such as scarlet, purple or navy blue. Obviously someone thought I could be trusted around a wine glass today. It was a simple gown, simpler than any other I had in my wardrobe, of a pearly pink fabric that seemed to float over my frame like mist. I loved that the sleeves were shorter, and the bodice cut lower than usual, and I wondered how much unauthorized glowing I was going to perpetrate.

The helpful elleth draped my shawl over the top of the flimsy gown before Thaladir came to direct us to the first of that day's activities in the Royal Dining Hall, so I managed to pass his quick inspection.

Throughout the rest of the day, I avoided the seneschal's watchful eye which was not difficult as he was busy overseeing nearly every aspect of every situation. All of the ellith in Mirkwood were dressed in the same floating fabric as Mal and I, so it was not as if I was breaking any rule. He must have been aware of that and was probably prepared for it. But I kept myself covered just in case.

I was glad I had the silky shawl covering my arms when we were taken outdoors later in the day. The elves seemed impervious to the chilly spring afternoon air, but I still shivered even with my wrap over my shoulders, and was grateful for what little protection it provided.

Thaladir hastily led us through the meadow, now carpeted green with new grass, to our places near the king's outdoor throne, before hurrying off. But he did not frown excessively at me while doing so. Either he was too busy to pay much attention, or he was getting used to me, or I was learning how to behave like a lady in his eyes. Whatever the reason, it made the closing ceremony go by much easier for both of us.

During the spring floods, the banks of the rivers had become littered with forest debris. Over the past few days, the elves had collected most of the drifted logs and branches from the riverside, and had piled it in a heap in the center of the meadow where it had dried out. Anarion told Mal and me that it would be lit at the conclusion of the day's festivities.

The concubine's sentinel was unusually chatty as we waited for Thranduil to come and begin the final ceremony. He stood proudly behind Mal's chand and told us about the bonfire and other activities planned for the evening. Then he informed us that Legolas was probably not going to arrive in time for the final events of the day's celebration because of bad weather conditions near the mountains.

I worried that our trip to Esgaroth and Dale would have to be postponed, but was reassured that would be unlikely. If Legolas did not arrive before our scheduled departure time, the timid treasurer, Canath, would assume control of the throne. Mal and I felt sorry for the shy elf with dimples; he seemed the least likely elf lord substitute.

Anarion told us that the heavy winds in the mountains would ease up soon and that the prince would probably arrive at the great gates of Mirkwood that night, but more likely in the morning, possibly even before the king had crossed the final border. There was little to fear.

A sudden breathless hush signaled Thranduil's arrival; even the chattering birds were silenced. The king was radiant, even in the brilliant afternoon daylight, and the air seemed to grow instantly balmier and comfortable when he came into the meadow. There was little danger of glowing noticeably as the rays of the setting sun bathed the area, so I removed my wrap and enjoyed feeling the fresh air on my skin for the first time in many, many months.

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

~ Sheraiah ~

Elves don't get too upset over things like delays, I had noticed. I suppose being immortal negates a sense of urgency unless it's literally a case of life and death. Legolas and the twins seemed to treat our extended layover in Carrock as something of a lark. I suppose to the prince it was, since once he set foot back in Mirkwood, he would be holding the reins until his father got back. Haldir maintained his usual level of aplomb, and Gimli, once he discovered that the ale and food were quite , wa, was perfectly content to while away his hours by swapping stories in what he referred to as the 'common room'.

As soon as I was fully awake, Legolas and I ventured down to get something to eat and once we had, we went exploring. He showed me my first close-up sight of the Misty Mountains, which made the Ozarks and the Appalachians, the only other mountains I had seen at close range, look tiny by comparison. Up, up, and up the gray peaks went into the clouds, their tops decorated with pristine caps of snow. It was beyond impressive, and I said as much. Legolas agreed, telling me that he never tired of the sight.

A monument to Beorn had been erected next to the entrance to the airport, and it struck me as very appropriate that it was a simple one. Beorn would have thought it silly to have something like that dedicated to his memory, I'm sure, but I for one thought that it was right that it had been done. I felt a sense of wonder to be seeing things and places I had read about literally dozens of times. My imagination had not done them justice, either in Rivendell or Carrock.

Legolas made a wonderful guide, despite the fact that he had to stop and speak with nearly everyone we met. He was a frequent visitor and very well known, both for his role in the Fellowship and as his father's son. Although I was certain that he found the attention very tedious, he was unfailingly gracious to everyone.

Finally, we made our way back to our lodgings and were told upon our arrival that we wouldableable to continue our flight that night. We went back to our room long enough to freshen up, among other more enjoyable things, and then came back down to have dinner with the rest of our group

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

~ Mal ~

Thaladir had been right. It seemed that none of the members of the royal household had a minute to spare this day, and it passed in a haze of eating and drinking and smiling at elves, and just generally being near the king, but without the opportunity to touch him, or even cast unseemly glances his way.

It all culminated in a gathering outside, on the meadow by the river not far from where we had skated in winter. There, the elves had prepared for the largest bonfire I had ever seen, and some way from the huge pile of forest debris stood tables and chairnd tnd there were blankets on the ground too. There was also a throne, carved from what must have been a majestic beech tree. The grey bark had been left intact in places, which made it look almost like a growing, living thing.

Thaladir escorted Mary and me there and placed us at a table a little to the side, where we would have a good view over the proceedings. He himself stood behind the throne, watchfully eyeing the meadow as the area quickly filled with elves. The atmosphere was jolly and animated, and very different from the ceremony in the throne room: Tir wir was thick with excitement and expectation. As the rays of the setting sun shone on the great gate, the talking died out, and everyone turned their heads towards the entrance to the royal caverns.

The gates opened and their king came out, the last guest to this gathering. He was clad in a light green tunic and darker leggings, and with a cream-white mantle embroidered in silver flowing behind him as he went. With a quick stride he walked through the multitude without talking or looking at anybody. His head was lifted proudly, and he was awe-inspiring, but also hard and cold like the winter.

When he had taken his place on the throne, beneath the seneschal's stern appearance, music began to play, light, lively tones that was in sharp contrast with the Elvenking's strict __expression. Heads were turned again and some elves even pointed to where they thought we ought to look.

Two elf-maids came dancing towards the throne, ethereal creatures, who seemed to be dressed in nothing but thin veils in light green, white and yellow that swirled around their lithe limbs. It was incredibly beautiful. When they came closer, I recognized Ithilwen and Miriel, and saw that they were holding a wreath of fresh leaves. They slowed down their movements and the music stopped for a while when they stood before the throne, reverently extending the wreath towards their king.

Thranduil at first appeared not to see them, and I was not the only one to hold my breath waiting to see what he would do. After a few endless seconds, he bowed his head, and a collective sigh of relief was heard as the elf-maids placed the wreath, his first living crown for the new year, on his hair. When he lifted his head again, it felt as if the sun had come out again from thunderclouds. His regal face was split in a wide grin and his eyes were shining.

"Gwann i thríw" [Winter is dead], he announced in a triumphant voice, and the crowd cheered as Ithilwen and Miriel bent down to kiss him, one on each cheek. They were innocent, daughterly kisses, and I did not m I a I am less sure about Mary. Thaladir seemed to be suffering, perhaps unable to decide if traditional, scheduled pecking would still count as a display of unseemliness in a public area.

The two elf maids disappeared into the crowd and the music changed. It became more stately, slower and less lively, and a third elleth approached the throne. It was Helca, and she was breathtaking. Her light blue gown matched her fair hair perfectly, and for once there was devotion, not loathing in her eyes. She held a crystal goblet in her hands, and it held a transparent liquid. "Water from the boundary river," whispered Anarion from behind us, when Mary and I suspiciously looked at each other. I did not think it beyond the icy elleth to poison our king.

Thranduil clearly had no second thoughts, as he gracefully accepted the goblet offered by the now unusually meek Helca. He drank deeply from it, swallowing all of its content in one draught, and then cast back his head, as if it had held a drink much more potent. And then he spoke again. "Tollen i ethuil" [Spring has come].

This time the cheers did not end, and the seneschal's deep voice as he declared the feast begun, was drenched in the noise of happy elves, who couldn't wait to fill their glasses and stuff their plates with the delicacies that had suddenly appeared on the tables.

During the feast, the king left his throne to walk about among his subjects, accepting a piece of meat here, a drink of wine there, and as more moremore elves moved to the blankets, the whole affair began to resemble an enormous, but cozy picnic. Mary and I found ourselves a nice soft place to sit too, and when the king joined us I felt like just falling asleep in his embrace. But the day wasn't over yet.

The pile of dry branches for the bonfire was still left intact, and it was only now, when the pl wer were empty and it was getting too dark to see what was in the glasses, at least for mortal eyes, that the final stage of the day's festivities took place. Thranduil remained seated with us, and told us to watch his seneschal.

Thaladir was standing in a small group of elves right next to the large heap of tinder dry twigs and branches. Taller than the rest and very different, he was wearing robes in a soft pearly greyish brown colour, which in combination with his calmness made him stand out from his swaying companions. He reminded me of the stabile trunk of a beech, while the other elves were fleeting and brightly shining like its fresh leaves.

Conversation ended as he reached out his hands, and after only a short moment of waiting, two burning torches were put ints has hands. He remained still, as if contemplating the perfect moment, and then he suddenly bent down, touching the torches to the dry twigs.

At first it appeared that nothing much happened, but as the seneschal stepped away, I saw thin smoke beginning to rise, and a thin band of flickering fire spread from where the torches had been put. And then, a crackling sound was heard and just seconds later the whole thing caught fire in a mighty whoosh that made me flinch.

The heat wave was intense, and I leaned further back against Thranduil's chest. The king chuckled and ked ked my arm soothingly, and I think he did the same with Mary, but I could not take my eyes from the flames that were now rising dramatically into the night sky.

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

~ Sheraiah ~

When our time to leave at last came, I was again seized with fear at the prospect of flying. Haldir's little sleep spell had heightened my terror, rather than alleviating it, and I was drawn as tightly as the string of Legolas' bow as we approached the eagles waiting to take us to Mirkwood.

Gimli, however, was evidently looking forward to fli flight. He joked with the twins as the three of them climbed aboard their eagle, saying something that I couldn't quite hear, but that Elladan and Elrohir seemed to find hilarious. Legolas also seemed to find it funny, shaking his head and chuckling quietly as he climbed aboard our eagle. I saw the corner of Haldir's mouth twitch as he stoesideside me, waiting to lift me up to the prince. Whatever the dwarf had said, it had to have been very funny indeed.

Then, there was no more time to try to think of a way out. Haldir carefully lifted m to to Legolas' waiting grasp. The prince pulled me up beside him effortlessly, nestling me next to him and out of Haldir's way as the March Warden climbed up and got situated. Each of them wrapped an arm around me, holding me fast between them.

I saw the eagle our companions rode jump into the air and heard Gimli whoop, this time not in surprise but in excitement. Both Legolas and Haldir laughed then and tightened their hold on me.

I felt the eagle's muscles bunch under us and tensed, burying my face in the prince's shoulder as the great avian leapt into the air.

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

~ Mary ~

The king's seneschal was not a happy elf, at least not compared with the rest of the merry group that gathered to depart from Mirkwood. Or, he was very happy. In times of duress in Mirkwood, it was always hard to tell. As Mal and I boarded the royal carriage, we could see him directing traffic in the staging area as we prepared to leave for our Official Royal State Visit abroad. It was very exciting. But Thaladir had been in a snit during most of the day's events and it was hard to feel sorry for him. I think he liked snits.

Legolas never had arrived. The king had not seemed perturbed by his absence and had refused the seneschal's last request to delay leaving the kingdom until the prince was there to take over the throne. At least that was the tale from Miriel, who was more and more forthcoming asgrewgrew closer.

However, Thaladir had gotten over being upset abohe the tardy prince once we had all arrived at the great gate for our departure and had to be sorted out. Mal and I were led down to the outer courtyard where our carriage was waiting. We had both just settled in to our seats, and were busy congratulating ourselves for all the comfy elbow room we had, even with Miriel and Ithilwen riding along, when a loud commotion diverted our attention.

It took no less than four elves to lead the king's steed, Amarth, into the courtyard. I was astonished to see that he was wearing some type of lead rein that was tied loosely around his massive neck. The mighty black beast snorted, stomped, and squealed angrily while the anxious handlers spoke soothingly to him. Nothing worked. Mal and I clutched each other as the horse seemed to grow increasingly enraged, until Thaladir strode over with a frighteningly stern look on his face and stared him into submission.

There were to be twenty-four elves riding along in attendance and escort to His Majesty and the Royal Party. I asked Miriel if this was the usual number to travel along for such an occasion, but she said she had never seen such an occasion in all of her years in Mirkwood. Never before had the king traveled outside of his kingdom with so many members of his Royal House for company. The king uly tly traveled beyond the borders with a smaller escort, but even that was rare, for him to leave the Mirkwood border that is.

She and Ithilwen were just as excited as Mal and I were to be venturing beyond the edge of the forest itself, which is as far as she had gone since the aftermath of Smaug's destruction of the Long Lake Town. At that time, she and her mother, along with many other subjects from Thranduil's realm, had been brought to Esgaroth to help the local townsfolk prepare for the coming winter after their homes had been destroyed by the dragon. Miriel and a few others had stayed even longer to help them cope. She had never had a chance to see the town again once it had been rebuilt and was looking forward to it.

When Anarion rode up, dressed in one of the dark green tunics reserved for members of the honor guard, Ithilwen waved to him shyly, a small dimple next to her lovely mouth betraying her otherwise placid reaction to his handsome appearance. He looked straight ahead after that, proudly holding the Mirkwood banner that sat in a special sling cleverly attached to his horse.

"Oh, no, Mal," I said as I tugged at her sleeve to get her attention. "Look who is coming." I turned to Mirel, "Did you know she was coming?" The dumbfounded elleth shook her head and curled her lip at the sight of our surprise traveling companion, Helca. The icy elf-witch had come down to the torch-lit courtyard with an elf carrying her luggage behind her, and a round wicker basket in her hands. She stood before Thaladir, who led her to our carriage to place her aboard, and took the opportunity to rearrange our seating while he was at it.

Mal sat across from me, between her and Ithilwen sat the wicker basket with the desperately mewing Celebriniel inside of it. I sat next to Miriel and Helca was on her other side. There was still plenty of room in the spacious carriage to feel comfortable, but the noisy cat was already straining our nerves until the seneschal leaned in, lifted the lid to the basket, spoke into it abruptly, closed the lid with a snap, and then strode off, leaving us in blessed silence.

There was a tapping on my knee and I looked over to Mal, who was now pointing at something outside of the carriage window. The king had arrived. All of the elves were instantly quiet, even Amarth stood still and calm, as Thranduil passed by them. He was dressed entirely in black, from his lordly shoulders to his sleekly boot-covered toes and, even though the torch-lit courtyard was dimly lit with many flickering shadows, his dark clothes did not dim his beauty and brilliance. He seemed to fill theire ire area with light.

I am glad that Thaladir was not near enough to the carriage to witness Mal's less than serenely disinterested open-mouthed stare. Mine too. The king spoke briefly to his seneschal before approaching our carriage. He still wore his crown from the feast, one made of new beech leaves woven with the tiny tawarel blossoms. I found my voice first.

"Oh my, I sure hope you aren't planning on using any of those weapons you are wearing," I said to him. When Thranduil went hunting, he wore a quiver and bow on his back as he rode off. When he went out of Mirkwood in any type of official capacity, he wore his sword. This night, he had all of that, and I could see the hilt of a small dagger poking from his calf-high boot-top. "And I hope this doesn't mean we are going to be attacked by orcs, or something worse, on our way to Esgaroth." I added, alth I h I found the idea kind of exciting.

"No, an orc attack is not likely," replied the king soberly. "But there is always a possibility of danger on the open road, Dark Lord or no." He grinned suddenly, a dazzling display, and added, "And I have precious cargo to protect." With that said, he turned to mount his horse to lead us away from his beloved kingdom and out onto the open road.

"He called us precious cargo, Mal. Did you hear that?" I asked the king's concubine. Shst nst nodded and smiled out the carriage window as she watched him ride away. I wondered out loud how long his fragile-looking leaf crown would last. Miriel said it would not fade until we left the Mirkwood borders. He would wear his mithril crown after that.

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

~ Mal ~

The bonfire was still burning when it was time to leave, and there was much dancing and drinking going on. Thaladir did not seem at all h wit with leaving the kingdom in such an irresponsible state, but I had caught a glimpse of Canath and he at least looked sober. And the king insisted we be on our way, so the seneschal could do nothing more than frown deeply as he directed the final preparations.

Since my exciting riding lessons with him I had came to love travelling on horse-back, but I was very happy that a carriage was provided for us this time. All the food, and the drink, and heat from the bonfire had made me more than a little drowsy and I would not have been able to stay alert for long, even with all the excitement of the upcoming visit to Esgaroth.

I got a good look at the vehicle before Thaladir's stern gaze made us quickly climb inside. It was fairly large, but also very delicate-looking and probably light, as no more than two horses were to pull it. These horses were of a heavier build than the others, and their harness was minimal – there were no reins. But they seemed calm enough, not at all like Amarth who nearly scared Mary and me to death with the enraged show he put on before the seneschal silenced him. The carriage didn't seem to have any space for a coachelf, so I guessed someone would eventually straddle one of the large animals and guide it with voice and legs.

It was very cozy-looking inside the covered coach, with the cushions and the little curtains that I imagined could be used to lock the world out of the secluded space within. There was a small lantern by each side door, only giving enough light to see one's travel companions.

Mary and I were joined by Miriel and Ithilwen, and later Helca, to our dismay. We had not counted on having to spend this long in her company, but I had to stifle a small laugh at how she looked disapprovingly at us. And before she got seated, she removed the cushion and demonstratively sat on the bare wood. I was sure it was only to show us who was a real elf. Nobody but the king, and perhaps his seneschal, could find that comfortable.

I forgot all about her, and her annoying cat, which I again regretted having bought for her, when I suddenly noticed something outside. Thranduil had finally arrived and the way he looked with the frail leaf crown still on his loose hair, but with his festive clothes exchanged for midnight black attire, took my breath away and I could only tap Mary's knee to direct her attention to our king.
see seemed not to mind our staring at all and was in a splendid mood. I could not get enough of watching him and was happy Mary did the talking. I was just too taken with his appearance to even think of why he was carrying all those weapons. When I finally noticed them, that is.

I awoke from my trance-like state when we started to move, and I didn't like that at all. I would rather be half-asleep dreaming of our king, than wide-awake and getting more exhausted by the minute. I even wondered for a second why the carriage hadn't been fitted with beds, when Thaladir seemed to think abevereverything else. I wouldn't get a wink of sleep sitting upright like this!

The last thing membmember hearing was Helca hissing. It did not disturb my sleep.

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

~ Mary ~

Once the carriage started to roll, my heart began to pound. I did not realize how much I had been looking forward to this trip until it actually became a reality. Except for my crazy flight to Rivendell, I had not traveled farther than a few miles from the Mirkwood gates since the day I had arrived. And this time I was not leaving anyone behind me like I had the day I jumped on the eagle with Legolas.

Mal complained, as we moved slowly over the bridge, that she would never be able to fall asleep sitting up in her carriage seat. It was impossible. She had to pause a few times to stifle some pretty impressive yawns, but she was convinced she would be a wreck by morning after being awake all night. We both knew from our daily rides that the road ahead was rutted from the recent ice-melt flooding, and we were prepared to be jostled and tossed about for miles.

Instead, the elven-made carriage moved smoothly over the uneven surface without any detectable bumping or bouncing. Mal was asleep within minutes after one last, stupendous, face-splitting yawn. She had a long day, I could tell, after being with the king the night before, which was rarely a restful experience.

The day-long activities of the spring feast had been exhausting for both of us, but at least I had plenty of sleep. I was wide awake for a while longer. It was boring looking out the window because the trees, which grew thick along either side of the road, had enough leaves to make star-gazing difficult. The carriage moved along slowly, the horses walked instead of trotted, and it felt like we were barely mov


Miriel quietly answered my questions about the people of Esgaroth, and Dale. She told me that the people she had met were very different from elves, but hospitable and eventually grateful for the help they received from Mirkwood and its king. She told me some funny stories about the questions she had been asked at first about Thranduil. People were curious to learn if he truly was a cruelly wicked despot, which meant his villainous reputation had deeper roots than I had imagined.

Mostly such notions had come from the stories that the town-folk had heard from the dwarves who had arrived there in the Mirkwood barrels. Shortly after that, the fire-breathing dragon had appeared, and been killed by Brand the Bowman, but not before burning all of their homes to the ground.

The shock of such a series of events, dwarves irrelrrels, a dragon in the sky, and the arrival of the fiery Elven-king with his army of spear-carrying elves, had permanently colored the imagination of the simple, superstitious people.

Thranduil had appeared on the scene seeking the same dwarves, but stayed to assist the homeless townsfin tin their hour of need, and most of the local people were given the opportunity to see a different side to his nature than the one they had been led to believe. Unfortunately, it did not stop the foolish ideas that had been implanted among some of the more ignorant or gullible types.

For many months, Miriel and her mother had stayed and helped the people there, and had been treated as honored guests while the town was slowly but carefully reconstructed. Most of the citizens were forced to live outdoors in tents or make-shift huts, and the elves were very useful in teaching them how to cope with nature's elements during that uncomfortable time.

From her description, it sounded like a huge fun summer camp. The mortals learned much woodcraft from Thranduil's subjects and the elves learned about mortals, who they find endlessly fascinating, much in the way humans would consider an amusing but potentially dangerous species of animal fascinating. Miriel's eyes sparkled like a child when she told me about her first boat ride on the enormous lake that seemed to stretch for miles in every direction, unlike the narrow river she was used to. She had enjoyed her time with the Long Lake people.

Helca made an annoying "tick" sound with her tongue every once in a while as Miriel told me about her time in Esgaroth. I knew what was bugging her, but I refused to speak to her. She was the true expert in the carriage, the one who knew more about the mortals of Middle Earth than any other elf in Thranduil's realm. It must have galled her that I refused to ask her anything.

"I am so glad," I said to Miriel, who translated for Ithilwen, "that the king let you both go with us to the wedding. I think it's going to be fun, don't you?" Before either could respond, the icy-eyed elleth broke out with a short, bitter guffaw.

"Ha! Why do you think that our king takes you to that place of mortals, if you even think at all? And, do you really believe that he cares if you enjoy yourself?" she hissed out. I felt Miriel grow rigid beside me, and suck in her breath in shock. But I was strangely unaffected by what Helca was saying. "He is just using you;" she continued to dig. "You do know that, do you not?"

I felt bad for Ithilwen, who was not fluent in any language besides Elvish and sat dumbfounded at the other side of the carriage watching the expressions on the three faces opposite to her. But I did not feel bad for myself about what Helca was saying. I knew I was being used by Thranduil, and I did not care. I loved it. I felt honored to be used by him.

"Are you saying," I asked, "that the king has had a lot of other mortal females like Mal and me at his disposal?" I leaned forward to see her face in the dimly lit carriage and continued, "Do you mean that this is usual for him, to have mortals beside him when he visits among the men of Middle Earth?" I already knew the answer, or I would never have asked such a question. She froze for a moment, and then smiled.

"You are not likely to be the only mortal women in his royal house for long. For the time being he is still only in the process of exploring how much more easily a human's senses can be manipulated for his purposes. More easily than those of his real subjects. You are aware of that, are you not?" She leaned forward now and glared back at me. "It is only a matter of time before he realizes there are more suitable mortals for his uses right here in his own world."

"Now are you trying to tell me," I replied, "that the women in Esgaroth and Dale are not afraid of the wicked black-hearted villainous Thranduil?" Another question I felt fairly safe in asking. She practically spat in my face when she retorted.

"Even you must realize that your brief mortal life-span limits your usefulness to His Majesty. At some point, you will be replaced." I really thought that Miriel was going to strike her. She lifted her hand but instead of swinging, she made a gesture that could have been read in any language, and the icy one sank back into her seat.

"Helca," I said. "I can't speak for Mal. But, I have to tell you that, no matter what happens to me, even if Thranduil uses me for a time and then tosses me aside, I will always be grateful to him for what he has done for me by inviting me here. And I will always know that I was the first. That will always be true."

I sat back into my seat, too, before continuing. "The first mortal female he invited into his halls, the first he asked to be his subject, and the first he asked to be his bridge. That will always be true, no matter what." I felt drowsy and had to pause to yawn before adding, "And nothing you can ever say or do can change it."

Despite my drowsiness it took some time to fall asleep. It was not hard to deflect the icy-elleth's attempts to provoke me. Everything she said was true but I had already tortured myself with that much and worse, and haceptcepted it all. But now that the carriage was quiet, I wondered what the king expected of me, his new bridge, once we were among the mortal men of Esgaroth, and beyond.

Miriel reached over me and closed the curtains and then extinguished the tiny lanterns so that the interior was completely dark. I smiled to myself as I wondered if she was just trying to avoid watching Mal and me sleeping with our eyes closed. It bothers some elves. That was my last coherent thought before the gently swaying carriage rocked me to sleep.

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

~ Mal ~

When I woke up, the carriage was still moving. In the bright morning sun I could better appreciate the decorations inside, and had to take back my earlier thoughts of complaint. It was a formidable-looking transport, and very comfortable as well. I felt well rested, and Mary was still asleep, with her head resting against Miriel's shoulder.

The two ellith nodded 'good morning', but Helca hastily turned her head to look out the window. She was sitting on a pillow! Ha! And she had seen that I had seen. Miriel winked at me, and Ithilwen smiled. Then the carriage shook so hard that the lid on Celebriniel's basket fell to the floor and the furry little creature mewed disapprovingly. And then we stood still.

I instantly thought something must be broken, but Anarion's happy face in the door calmed me. He announced that we were making a stop for washing, and though he first assisted Helca out of the carriage, he was beaming at Ithilwen all the time. I poked Mary's leg with my foot, and she sat with a start, but as soon as she noticed the open door, she scrambled out into the world. I followed her quickly.

We had stopped by a small brook, or rather, in it, and the reason for this unusual choice of parking space became clear as soon as Thaladir approached in a quick stride. He was in similar travel gear with the escort, but his stern look set him apart.

"Females upstream, males downstream," he announced curtly, and tapped Anarion's shoulder when the young elf seemed unwilling to immediately move to the correct side of the carriage. The seneschal carefully turnes bas back on us, but remained standing within view, the perfect guardian of decorum, even here in the wilderness.

The water was cold, and the air was not too warm either at this hour, but it felt nice to get freshened up. It was hard not to slip on the round stones on the bottom, and we had fun splashing water on one another, until Mary's mouth suddenly became a big "o". Miriel looked towards the carriage, and there I saw the reason for their reactions; something small and silky, very much resembling a piece of underwear, floated happily between the wheels and then disappeared on the other side. Then Ithilwen giggled, and soon we were all laughing loud, except for Helca, of course. She looked ready to report us to Thaladir for unseemly behaviour.

Then the seneschal suddenly cleared his throat, and we all hastened to straighten our clothes. He stepped aside, and the king appeared. Thranduil was grinning widely and held out his sword before him, with the flat side up, and there, perched on the edge of it, were the wayward panties.

"I need not enquire whe bee bearer of these was," he declared knowingly, chuckling at us, and the seneschal, who reluctantly regarded the garment. Mary took a step forward and made an awkward, but very funny little curtsy.

"I knew there was a reason for bringing all those weapons, Majesty" she said cheekily. She stretched out her hand to retrieve her underwear, but the king laughingly made a quick, fluid motion with his sword arm, sending them up into the air and catching them in his other hand.

"I shall keep these as a pledge," he replied, and then continued in a more serene voice. "It is time to continue our journey." The seneschal ushered us into the carriage again, and the glance he directed in the king's direction when he assisted Mary was nearly painful.

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

~ Sheraiah ~

I remember very little of the flight itself. I vaguely recalled Legolas speaking to me, shouting over the wind actually, and trying to calm me to no avail. At some point, either another sleep spell was put on me, or I simply passed out. I wasn't sure which.

Neither do I remember landing in Mirkwood, other than hazy impressions of being lifted down from the eagle, carried into cool shadows, and the prince's worried face above me.

I was certain that it was hours later when I fully woke. I was lying in the most luxurious bed I had ever lain in. The covers were velvet and satin, the sheets of the finest linen, crisp, cool, and delicately scented. I shifted, and became aware that I was no longer wearing the clothing I had left Carrock in, but a soft, shift-like gown edged with delicate lace. My head ached abominably, making me reluctant to sit up.

The room I was in was only dimly lit, which was a blessing considering how my head felt. I could just make out the form of someone sitting in a chair across the room, but wasn't able to see who it was. Deciding to bite the proverbial bullet, I slowly sat up. The individualthe the chair rose and swiftly crossed the distance to my side.

A smooth, cool hand stroked my forehead and a goblet of water was held to my lips. I drank gratefully, the water easing my dry throat, if not the headache. I looked over the goblet at the elleth who held it. She was a bit different from the other ellith I had seen. Mousy, I would have called her, not that she didn't have the beauty that all elves did, but hers was a quieter, more unobtrusive beauty.

She busied herself with bringing up the light level in the room, thus giving me the opportunity to study her a bit. She had ash-brown hair and her eyes were hazel, shading almost to olive. She moved with the same floating grace that I had discovered to be common to elves, but she was hesitant towards me, as if she had never been this close to a human before and really didn't know what to make of me. She said something to me in Sindarin and left the room.

I settled back into the soft pillows, rubbing my temples and wondering how long I had been unconscious. My headache was making me grumpy and my stomach was reminding me that it had been awhile since I had eaten anything. In addition, I missed Legolas.

I knew that once we were here, he would not have nearly the time for me that he had in Rivendell, and I didn't begrudge him the need to see to the needs of the kingdom first, but I was lonely, and feared that the culture shock and language barrier would be too too much to deal with.

A k at at the door pulled me from my dark musings and I called out permission to enter the room. To my vast relief, Elladan, Elrohir, and Gimli entered. The twins each dropped a kiss onto either side of my face, and to my shock, Gimli dropped one onto my forehead before settling next to me on the right side of the bed. The twins settled on the left side, Elladan at my shoulder and Elrohir at my knee. The elder twin wrapped an arm around me, his brother taking my hand. Gimli took my other hand and I felt my loneliness vanish.

"You scared us good and proper, lass," the dwarf told me, a stern look on his face. "How are you feeling now?"

"Like your axe is cleaving my skull in two, but other than that I'm fine," I returned, giving him a slight smile.

"Well, let us see what we can do for that," Elladan chimed in. He shifted me forward until he could massage my neck and Elrohir began massaging my hands, seeking certain pressure points. To my amazement, the headache eased almost immediately.

"Much better," I sighed.

"Good," Elrohir replied with a chuckle. "We are doing it correctly then." I was silent for a little while, letting them work on me before I decided to ask them some questions.

"How long have I been out?" I caught the look that passed between them and bit my lip. "How long, Elrohir?" I persisted.

"Almost a full day, since we landed. I do believe Haldir is in need of some lessons on how to perform sleep spells," the younger twin commented sourly. "He sucks at it." His use of yet another of my expressions made a fit of giggles burst forth from my lips.

"He certainly does," I agreed, "But don't torture him too much, please. If I know him, he's beating himself up quite enough right now as it is." Elladan chuckled.

"Yes, he is and Legolas is not helping things. He is most upset with Haldir about this. Elrohir and I had already decided not to add to his misery." The elder twin ceased his ministrations to my shoulders. "Better now, sweetling?"

"Much better, thank you both. I think I might live now, except that I'm starving." I glared at all three of them when they laughed.

"Lass, are you certain you aren't part hobbit?" Gimli dared to quip.

I swung a pillow at him.

t b c

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