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Mirkwood celebrated when the Shadow fell, and freely - but the true celebration has been held tonight, on the occasion of Prince Legolas' return.
Thranduil knows his son, and where others may see only happiness to be home, he spots something reserved, nervous, behind Legolas' eyes. He bides his time, waiting until late in the evening when no one else notices Legolas slip away from the revelry. He follows at a distance.
Legolas heads up a winding stair and out onto one of the balconies. With most everyone downstairs celebrating, they're alone in the soft night. By the time Thranduil arrives, Legolas is leaning on the balcony railing, looking out into the darkness.
"You have something heavy preying on your mind," he says into the quiet.
Legolas jumps a little, almost too small a movement to notice, and turns. "What?"
Thranduil takes a few steps toward him. Bright lanterns twinkle in the branches above, casting a dim twilight over the scene. "You seem distracted by something."
Legolas doesn't answer immediately. "I- I suppose there is something I should tell you, father."
"Something I will not like, I take it."
Legolas winces. "Something you will hate."
"Indeed?" Thranduil raises his eyebrows. "You are so very certain of that?" Legolas nods. "Come, I will keep an open mind. You are my son; nothing you have done can be too terrible." When Legolas still doesn't speak, Thranduil continues, "Have you jeopardised our alliance with Dale? Mortally insulted the new King of Gondor? Been named leader of an Orc war band? Fallen in love with a dwarf?"
Legolas' startled, terrified expression is all the confirmation he needs.
There is a very long silence.
"Well," Thranduil says, "I did say I would keep an open mind."
*
Bellís finds her brother out on the ramparts. He's sitting still as the stone, staring out over the valley toward Dale.
"Pa kicked you out of the house then," she says, sitting down next to him.
Gimli grunts an affirmative.
"Banished you?"
Gimli nods.
Bellís pauses. "Worth it?"
"Absolutely."
Bellís can't help herself. "For the elf?"
"For him, I would suffer being banished from the mountain entirely."
That makes Bellís sit up and take notice. No dwarf would risk banishment from his home, his kith and kin and the very stone to which he belonged, without very good reason. "He's worth that, is he?"
"That and more."
After a moment to take that in Bellís says, "He must be one gorgeous elf."
That, finally, makes Gimli laugh. "Well, I certainly think so."
Bellís knocks her shoulder against his. "Perk up, brother. I doubt it'll be more than another hour or so until Pa drags himself up here to apologize. Mother is furious with him."
Gimli winces. "I never intended to cause strife between them."
"They do that more than well enough on their own."
Gimli grins. "That they do. You do have the gift of putting things into perspective, Bellís." They're quiet for a moment before he asks, "What do you think about all this, then?"
Bellís shrugs. "If you love him, what more is there to say?"
*
Gimli's banishment from the family household is soon rescinded, though Glóin is still vocal in his disapproval.
Legolas can hear him remonstrating with someone downstairs, his angry voice drifting up through the floorboards to the little unused guest bedroom he and Gimli have escaped to. "This is a terrible idea," he moans.
"You worry too much," Gimli says, threading a lock of silver-gold hair through his fingers.
"They still hate each other. What if they start a fight over dinner?"
"Draw their weapons in another King's hall? T'would be political suicide."
"I did not mean a duel."
"A food fight, then?"
Legolas lifts his head from Gimli's chest and glares at him. "You are not taking this seriously."
"If there is any fighting to be done, it will be with sharp words," Gimli says, unconcerned. "But I have asked my father to be courteous, and I will hope he remembers." Gimli grins. "And if he forgets, I shall give him a sharp tap on the head with the butt of my axe, to remind him."
Legolas rolls his eyes and returns his head to its former position, his ear resting over Gimli's heart. "Would that the same would work on my father."
"In wrangling him, I am afraid you are on your own," Gimli chuckles. He strokes one thumb along the top of Legolas' shoulder, and Legolas listens to the steady beat of his heart, thundering away within his chest. "You are still tense," Gimli says, his voice much softer. "Know that whatever transpires, I will love you, and I will be with you however I may."
"I would not ask you to give up your family for me," Legolas says. "I do not forget that you were banished on my account, also."
"For three hours only."
"Still."
"My father's anger is like a thunder storm. Violent, terrible, but brief. I imagine he will mutter and grumble till the end of our days together, but he will not always be so hostile."
"I will take your word for it," Legolas mutters.
*
The Kingdom of Dale has often served as a neutral meeting point between their two kingdoms, and tonight is no exception. King Bard looks nervous, his feelings only somewhat hidden by the welcoming smile he gives all parties when they arrive in the dinner hall.
It's a quiet affair, by royal standards. King Bard and his wife sit side by side at the head of the table, with Thranduil on their left and Thorin Stonehelm on their right. Gimli is on Thorin's right, while Legolas sits, twitchy and nervous, on his father's left.
One look at Glóin's glower convinces him he and Gimli should have stayed in the south for the rest of their days.
The meal starts out pleasantly; his father makes polite, if stiff, conversation, mostly with Bard, though King Thorin has a surprising amount to say. Gimli chips in a few times, always with an effortlessly composed turn of phrase that makes Legolas feel tongue-tied in comparison. His father actually looks like he might be impressed despite himself.
Legolas is almost starting to feel hopeful - despite the fact that Glóin hasn't spoken a word - until one of the dwarves makes an offhand comment about the food and his father responds, "Ah yes, it did surprise me to see your company enjoying this type of fare. I had been led to believe dwarves consumed rock and stone as their only sustenance."
Dead silence falls around the table. Legolas knows his father well enough to hear the little hint of humour that means he's joking, but no one else does; and his father knows no one else does, which is why Legolas shoots him the fiercest glare he can muster.
Thorin begins to say, "Simply a mis-" but Glóin cuts across him, demanding, "And what would you know about dwarves?"
"Oh, many things I am sure are folk tale," Thranduil says, "But I am reliably informed that they always sleep standing up, and will bathe only in salt water."
Thorin raises an eyebrow, and Queen Aelin hides her mouth behind her hand; both have clearly figured out his father's jest. Glóin narrows his eyes. "All poppycock, elf. Are your spymasters buffoons, or do you believe every fairy tale you hear?"
Before Thranduil can answer, Gimli says, "Come father, have you never tried to eat a rock?"
Glóin blinks down at his son, dumbfounded. "What?"
"As a child I oft heard tell that dwarves could eat rocks," Gimli said, grinning, "And so I thought to myself, why not take a bite and see?"
This elicits a wave of laughter around the table; even Glóin and Thranduil look amused. "This is the calibre of family you are marrying into," Gimli's sister Bellís whispers from where she's sitting on Legolas' left.
"I suppose that is better than Legolas' attempts to eat slugs," Thranduil says, putting one finger to his lips as if musing over the question.
"Ada!"
*
Later, after the meal's peaceable conclusion, Legolas sneaks out of his room and up into the palace's attic, to the same room he and Gimli had appropriated earlier. Gimli is already there, his smart attire discarded in favour of a simple shirt. "I am leaving for Gondor tomorrow,” Legolas announces, flopping down onto the still somewhat musty bed.
“That would be a shame. I would have to come with you, and I’ve barely had time to speak to anyone here yet.”
“Letters shall have to suffice.”
Gimli turns to him, a warm smile on his face. “Come, Legolas, it was not so bad.”
“Only because you defused the situation. My father-” Legolas throws up his hands. “He said he approved!”
“He said he would be happy for you, which is not quite the same thing.”
Legolas let out a heavy sigh. “They are going to be insufferable for years.”
Gimli laughs. “Yes. But we are going to be in the south, so we will not care.”
Legolas rolls over and props himself up on his elbows. “You are coming with me tomorrow, then?”
Gimli laughs. “Where you go, I will always follow.”