See Ch. 1 for disclaimer.

Ch. 9 The Feast

It was another new experience for Legolas. Never before had he taken part in the preparation of a feast. He was no stranger to feasts, of course, for he had attended enough of them back home and had always enjoyed the plentiful food and joyous music and dancing. But he had not realized until now the amount of preparation and work that was required before one could sit back to enjoy the festivities.

Because of the lateness in arriving home after the hunt the previous night, he had slept past his usual waking hour. By the time he made his way to the table for his belated morning meal, he found only Roitar for company. The latter was busy eating a thick slice of bread favoured with a generous smearing of fruit preserve. He greeted Legolas with a sticky grin.

"Where is everybody?" Legolas asked as he sat down by his friend and helped himself to the bread and fruit preserve.

"Adar and Tavaro have left already to help with the feast tonight. Baragallon has gone with them. Aradun is waiting outside to accompany us when we set out to do our chores."

"Chores? What chores?" Legolas asked in between mouthfuls.

"For the feast tonight," Roitar replied. "There is much to do. Naneth has been cooking for hours already in the kitchen."

At this bit of information, Legolas sniffed appreciatively at the tantalizing aroma filtering out from the kitchen. "Is your naneth cooking for everybody attending the feast?"

Roitar laughed. "No, of course not. She cannot possibly cook for so many people. Everybody brings something, but naturally roasted boar will be the main attraction tonight. Have you not taken part in a feast before, Legolas?"

"Of course I have. Many times, but I have never had to help to prepare for it before," Legolas said. "By the time I attend, everything is all ready. What do we need to do?"

Roitar crammed the last bit of bread into his mouth and licked his sticky fingers. "We will have to help carry the firewood, of course. You cannot imagine how much wood is required to roast a boar. Naneth also wants us to look for more fiddleheads, and mushrooms, if there are any, though it may be too early for them yet."

Following his friend's example, Legolas quickly finished his bread. "If there is so much to do, we should not tarry."

"Naneth said that she will not have time to prepare a midday meal for us and for us to eat more now," Roitar said.

"I have had enough," Legolas said quickly.

"We will not eat again until the feast tonight," Roitar reminded.

Legolas grinned. "I want to make sure that I have room for roasted boar."

"You will get hungry," Roitar stated.

"If we have so much to do, then I will be too busy to get hungry," Legolas said. "Come, let us be off. What do we do first? Look for fiddleheads and mushrooms?"

"Yes, we will do that first and then the firewood. But first, I must tell Naneth that we are leaving."

"I will wait for you outside."

The day was cool and clear. As they made their way through the settlement, Legolas marvelled at the furor of activities that was taking place. It seemed as if every elf was preoccupied with an assigned task. And the kitchen of each cottage must be bustling with culinary arts of all kinds as evidenced by the whiffs of cooking aroma that filled their senses as they passed by each cottage. At the central clearing of the settlement, they paused briefly to watch a pit being dug and lined with stones.

"That is where they will roast the boars," Roitar explained to Legolas. "We will have to bring enough firewood to keep the pit filled and burning all night."

"All night? The feast will last all night?" Legolas asked.

"Well, some will stay until the first light of the next day, but Adar and Naneth would never let me stay the night. I would not be able to keep awake even if they allow me to stay," Roitar explained.

Legolas nodded. "My adar never lets me stay late either at feasts. Perhaps Tavaro will let me stay later tonight. He is not nearly as strict as my adar."

"I like Tavaro. You are fortunate to have him for a brother," Roitar said, looking rather wistful.

Legolas grinned. "Yes, I like having Tavaro for a brother. He knows how to have fun, and he allows me to have fun."

"Come, we better head into the woods. We have much to do," Roitar reminded.

For the next two hours or so, they made their way through the woods, filling their baskets with fiddleheads. They were delighted to find the curly green sprouts plentiful and the discovery of several patches of early mushrooms only added to their increasing sense of accomplishment. Legolas thought that Vanye would be very pleased with their ample findings.

All the while, Aradun trailed behind them, dutifully filling his basket at the direction of the two younglings. Not for the first time since they left the palace, Aradun was thankful that the King had chosen him for this assignment. He could not remember the last time that he had enjoyed himself so much. The princeling was certainly a more unpredictable charge than the King, and delightfully so, he thought. He was certain Baragallon harboured similar sentiments, though each would not dare to speak to the other of their thoughts, for fear of appearing to be less than a warrior in finding so much pleasure in such mundane tasks as picking fiddleheads in the woods.

As Legolas had predicted, Vanye was delighted with their full baskets when they at last returned to the cottage. Flushed with the heat from the cooking hearth, she had planted a kiss on each of their cheeks, thanking them. Even Aradun was not spared, and Legolas could barely suppress his giggles at the sight of the embarrassed warrior fidgeting in the most unwarriorlike manner after the said kiss on the cheek. Then laughingly, Roitar's naneth had quickly dispatched them to begin the task of hauling firewood.

When they passed by the central clearing again, Legolas saw that the fire had already been lit in the stoned-lined pit. The carcasses of two boars, dressed and spitted, had been hoisted over the crackling flames. As Legolas hurried after his friend, he wondered briefly whether one of the boars now cooking was the same one that he had brought down last night with his arrows. He hoped so. It felt good to know that he was responsible for providing food for others.

He followed Roitar to where a number of elves were busy pulling branches from a deadfall and hacking them into manageable pieces. The younglings and Aradun were directed to a pile of readied branches and were told to carry them back to the fire pit in the old blankets that were provided. They quickly loaded the blankets and began the trek back to the central clearing, carrying the bundled firewood between them. Aradun and another elf followed behind with their own and much larger bundle.

Legolas lost count of how many times they trekked back and forth between the fire pit and the deadfall. They were not alone in carrying out this task. Others had joined in and a steady procession of blanket toting elves resulted in a sizeable mountain of firewood stacked by the side of the fire pit.

When they were at last told that they could stop, Legolas found that his arms were stiff and aching from the constant exertion, and that more than one splinter had found its way into his unprotected hands. As they made their way slowly back to the cottage, he attempted to pick out those annoying intrusions from his palms.

"What is the matter with your hands?" Roitar asked.

"Splinters," Legolas answered. "Did you not get them?"

Roitar shook his head. "No, my hands are used to hauling firewood for my naneth, I guess. Naneth will get them out for you."

"Let me see your hands, Prince Legolas," Aradun said, drawing the youngling's hands to him for closer inspection.

"It is Legolas, remember?" Legolas reminded, pulling his hands away from the warrior. "My hands are fine, Aradun. Do not worry so. Roitar's naneth will get them out for me. All I want right now is a bath. Hauling firewood is hard work."

Roitar smiled. "It is not hard once you are used to it, but I would like a bath too. I hope Naneth has hot water ready for us."

Legolas thought of the bath chamber that adjoined his room at his adar's palace and the ever-available source of hot bathing water. It was one of the few comforts that he secretly missed, but there were so many other joyful experiences on this journey that he did not mind sacrificing these small comforts.

Vanye was in the process of drawing out the splinters with a fine needle from Legolas' hands when Tavaro, Herendil and Baragallon at last returned to the cottage, their tunics boldly splashed with what appeared to be blood.

"Tavaro! Is that blood on you? What happened?" Legolas was quickly on his feet, looking at his brother with unmasked concern.

"Relax, Legolas. The blood belongs to the boars that we had the pleasure of dressing. Not the most agreeable task, but we drew lots, and we lost," Tavaro said, grinning. "I fear our clothing are beyond redemption though."

"There is plenty of hot water in the bath chamber. Please go wash yourselves before you transfer any stains onto the furnishings," Vanye said quickly. "As for your clothing, put them to soak in the large bucket. I will see whether I can redeem them for you."

Tavaro peered at what she was doing to Legolas' hands. "What did you do to your hands, bratling? Did you hurt them?"

"Splinters from carrying firewood," Legolas said, letting out the breath that he had been holding while Vanye drew out the last splinter. "We hauled firewood all afternoon."

Tavaro grinned. "It sounds like you have been working hard. Perhaps you might be too tired to attend the feast tonight."

"Short of death, I do not think anything can prevent me from attending the feast tonight," Legolas grinned back. "Go and bathe for you are beginning to smell."

Dusk was already falling by the time they reached the central clearing. Others were already in attendance and the evening air was alive with laughter and voices. In the centre of the clearing, the large fire crackled and sizzled as fat from the roasting boars dripped onto the leaping flames, chasing away the encroaching darkness of the coming night. In the far corners where the reflection of the fire could not reach, flaming torches were planted firmly into the ground, doing their share in scattering the night shadows.

Legolas sat back onto the blankets that they had spread under a tree. The aroma of roasting meat filled his senses and suddenly he was ravenously hungry. To his embarrassment, he found that his mouth was beginning to water as his eyes took in the sight of the roasting boars. As if attuned to his brother's sudden overwhelming need for food, Tavaro came back with a heaping platter of sizzling slices of meat.

"I think Legolas should get the first serving as after all, this is the boar that he shot down last night," Tavaro said with a broad smile.

Legolas quickly looked up. "This is the same boar? How can you tell?"

"I marked it last night for you and I insisted that it should be our fare for tonight's feast," Tavaro smiled.

"You marked it? How? How can you tell it is the same one?" Legolas asked incredulously.

"I have my way. Trust me, Legolas," Tavaro said, offering his brother the platter.

"Thank you, Tavaro," Legolas said, taking the platter and blinking rapidly at the sudden warmth that invaded his eyes.

Tavaro ruffled his hair. "You are welcome, bratling. I thought it would be important to you. I have also saved the tusks for you. You will want to show those to Adar, I am sure."

Legolas nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. He looked around and saw the others smiling at him. He made an effort and cleared his throat. "We must all share this."

"That platter is for you, Legolas. We will get more for everybody else," Herendil said, smiling at the young elf. "Enjoy the fruit of your hunt, little one."

Legolas waited until everyone had their platter before he started on his own. Though he had tasted roasted boar many times before, none had ever tasted as fine as this one. Surely, none had ever been so tender or so juicy, he thought as he savoured the first morsel.

"Well, I believe this is an appropriate occasion to finish the King's most fine vintage," Herendil suddenly announced as he passed goblets all round. "Though I really loath to share what I should hoard with my life."

Legolas stared at the goblet that he had been handed, wide-eyed. "I am allowed to have my own goblet of wine?" Previous to this, he had only been allowed to sample the dregs of what remained in his adar's and brothers' drained goblets.

Tavaro studied his young brother. "I am sure Adar will have my head for this, but since we have overstepped so many of his rules already, I do not suppose one more infraction will do further irreparable harm. Just half a goblet, Herendil. I do not wish to deal with a drunken elfling tonight. And you, bratling, drink it slowly. Do not drain it as if it is water."

Legolas nodded happily, marvelling at the half-filled goblet in his hand. He glanced over at Roitar and saw that his friend held a similar goblet in his hand. The two friends shared a grin.

"To friendship, and to Legolas' first boar," Herendil said, raising his goblet.

Legolas' grin widened at these words as he too raised his goblet. He then took a careful sip of the wine. The sweet nectar rolled past his tongue and down his throat, leaving a trail of pleasant warmth in its wake. He looked up at his brother who was watching him closely. "This is good."

Tavaro arched a brow and commented wryly, "If Adar can hear you speak now, but then we should be thankful that he cannot. Remember, bratling, slowly."

Legolas nodded and took another sip, both hands gripping the goblet with care. He looked at Roitar and saw his own pleased grin reflected on his friends' face. He then set down his goblet carefully at his side and once more turned his attention to the platter of roasted boar. He was certainly going to enjoy himself tonight, he thought.

Legolas leaned back against the trunk with a sigh of content, his shoulder touching that of his friend. "This is most wonderful feast I have ever attended," he said as he watched the dancers before him, among them was his brother, arms linked with Herendil and Vanye.

Roitar nodded in agreement. "It is a wonderful feast. I am so glad that you and Tavaro have come to visit us."

Legolas sat up and looked at his friend earnestly. "I cannot recall ever enjoying myself as I have in the past days. I want to thank you, Roitar. I shall miss you when we leave."

Roitar also sat up, a look of alarm spreading across his face. "You are leaving?"

"Tavaro said that we will have to leave in a few days as he has to get back to his patrol duties," Legolas said with resignation.

"I wish you can stay longer. I will have no one to play with when you are gone," Roitar said with a noticeable tremor in his voice.

"You will have to promise that you will come and visit me," Legolas said.

Roitar nodded. "I promise. Adar and Naneth have already agreed to that. They said we will come when the weather is warmer."

Legolas smiled. "I will look forward to that then, with all my heart." He reached down and drew the small dagger from his boot. "I would like to give you this, Roitar, as a token of our friendship. It is not much, but it has been in my possession for many years now. I would like you to have it."

"I cannot accept that," Roitar said, looking the glittering jewels that adorned the hilt of the small dagger.

"Please do not turn it down. It would mean much to me if you would accept it," Legolas pleaded.

Roitar in turn drew from his boot a small dagger of his own. "Then you must accept this in return. Mine does not have the jewels like yours, but it too has been in my possession for many years now and it is dear to me."

Legolas accepted the other's gift eagerly. "I shall treasure it."

"I am sorry that it is so simple, not like yours," Roitar apologized as he once more marvelled at the jewelled dagger that he now held in his hand.

Legolas looked at his friend, his eyes glittering. "It matters not to me, truly. I am thankful for the friendship that it represents, simple as it may be."

"And I shall treasure your gift as well, my friend," Roitar said. "Thank you, Legolas."

TBC