(A/N:  Yes, I know; Monday is supposed to be Green Knight Day, but I was in Arizona.  So sue me.

I hope you like this week's offering!  Chapter warning: food descriptions! -- Le Rouret)

Cirien of Langstrand was tall and thin and had achieved in his middle-age that spare wiriness of form so envied by the corpulent; he had also a lean hooked nose and low brows, and his pale hair was thin and wispy atop his bony head.  His features were gaunt and his emblematic air one of resigned tolerance to his lot in life; this was deceptive, for Cirien was acknowledged by friend and foe alike as a man of keen insight and deep understanding.  He sat upon the low soft chair by the inglenook, his doublet collar so stiff and high it seemed surely to hold up his head upon the thin neck; in one hand he cradled a crystal goblet; with the other he perused a letter, his lips pursed in deep thought.

His friend at the hearth beside him could well have been chosen as an exemplar of a perfect opposite to the wise knight reading the vellum missive; he was swarthy, and jolly, and rather fat; he had at one time been a stout and muscular man but retirement and inactivity (not to mention a love for that peculiar red wine so commonly found in Dol Galenehtar, where he was a regular guest) had rendered his muscle down into flesh, and he was more inclined to sit at table than upon his destrier, as had been customary in his youth.  He too held a goblet filled with his favorite wine; indeed his host had been so thoughtful as to put a decanter at his elbow, so that when the goblet emptied, as occurred with a touch more frequency with him than of his two companions, he was not obliged to request more and so discomfit himself, but could refill his glass at will.  He watched Cirien read, his expression somewhat more subdued than was his wont, and the third member of their party, tall, pale, and full of restless energy, echoed his gravity, standing with arms folded by the mantle-piece, his golden hair shimmering in the firelight.  After a moment Cirien made a little huffing noise, folded the parchment in two with his fingers, set it upon the table, and took a draught of wine.

"Well, Cirien, what think you?" asked his host, stirring; the embroidery upon his doublet flashed as he moved.

"It does not look good, Legolas," said Cirien, setting his goblet upon the table beside the letter and leaning forward, putting his elbows on his knees, knobby in their scarlet hose.  His fingers laced together resembled wicker-work.  "This Théalof, who purports loyalty to the king; seems to me to speak out of both corners of his mouth; upon the one side he claims allegiance to the house of Éomund, praising King Éomer and making many broad felicitations to his allies; yet when he speaks of the dissenters it is as though he gloats over them; almost would I say he finds the discord in Rohan to be his king's just due.  Also I have difficulty believing, as he claims, that fully one-half of Rohan's populace wishes for Éomer to put aside his foreign wife and marry one of their own; the Rohirrim may be as many say barbarians but to my knowledge they remain at least honorable ones."

"It is not unheard-of for a barren queen to be supplanted by a younger bride," said Araval distastefully.  "It is not apposite but the lords in Belfalas have been known to so do."

"To hear of something and to do it are, I hope, two very separate things," said Legolas dryly.  "Nay, friends, I do not think Éomer would divorce Lothíriel, even if it were found she were of Harad, or worse, Umbar.  Nor should the Rohirrim – at least the ones I have had occasion to meet – support their king in that decision; Lothíriel is well-loved though she came as a stranger; she gathers unto herself ladies' maids of Edoras and the nobility in its surrounds, has learnt the language passing fair, adheres to the customs, and moreover she is generous in her works of munificence and an untiring source of mercy to her assumed people.  In fact the only fault one might find in her as queen is her inability to produce an heir to the throne, which to my mind begs not the question of supersession, nor even of divine disapproval as some have suggested, but of natural incapacity, and I do not, mere Sinda that I might be, claim to know the Valar's mind in their workings on this.  My lord of Langstrand, you and I are as one in this; I do not trust Théalof, and am chary of meeting with him as he suggests.  To ask me to consider neutrality rather than risk my ties with the trade-houses of Edoras!  He thinks little of me, if he supposes my exchequeur controls my loyalties.  Rather would I have naught to do with such men, who attempt to draw me in one side or the other; Éomer is my friend, and I will brook no attempt to divide us, nor will I allow spies and liars to weaken the bonds betwixt our lands with idle gossip or malicious deceit."

"What will you do then?" asked Araval, refilling his goblet.  "Tell him not to come? He did say in his letter he had planned already to meet with you in a fortnight's time."

Legolas made a face.  "That would be very rude," he said.  "You know well, my friend, my mother raised me with better manners than that.  I refuse hospitality to none, despite my personal estimation of a man's comportment."

"I suppose," said Araval, his eyes twinkling, "you might arrange for him to get lost in your wood – turn him off the proper path, perhaps; lead him up into the knees of the Ephel Dúath – the longer he wandered, the more you might put off the fateful meeting; and if he should happen to run across a hungry bear, or to accidentally fall into a crevasse – Well!"

Legolas laughed.  "That should surpass rudeness and sink well into the depths of vulgarity!" he said, going to the sideboard and fetching a goblet.  As he poured out a quantity of wine for himself he added, "Besides, it is my duty as one of Elessar's vassals to search for and rescue all who go missing in my demesne; my scouts are far too well-trained – they should find him immediately, and then not only would I be constrained to speak with him about the uprising but nurse him back to health as well."

"Pity," sighed Araval.  "It should have been such a neat solution."

"You cannot, I think, short of giving offense to him and his followers, avoid meeting with him and discussing the succession," said Cirien, turning the goblet round about in his fingers.  "He is quite insistent – bringing in your friendship with Lord Faramir and Lady Éowyn and your position as the White Lady's champion, your attendance at the wedding of the King and Queen of Rohan, and your approval in Éomer's wish to adopt Fastred as his heir.  How, by the way, O Green Knight, did he discover that particular tit-bit of information?  I myself had no idea you had discussed this with Lord Faramir and Lady Éowyn; Fastred's legacy was a surprise to me when I heard of it."

"I know not," said Legolas shrugging.  "Gossip runs faster in the fields of Gondor than a startled rabbit – indeed it runs as erratically, and with as little purpose and direction as well, making it an uneasy cohabiter.  Théalof as a special envoy of Rohan in Minas Tirith could have heard it from any visiting dignitary I suppose.  We made no exceptional care to speak covertly; servants were about, and the occasional minor cleric.  After all it is no secret the King of Rohan is childless, and his closest kinswoman in possession of two fine sons."  He hooked his foot round the leg of a light chair and pulled it up to the fire, sitting upon it and staring into the flames.  "And also it is no secret the children of the Lord and Lady of Ithilien are welcome and frequent guests in my halls; think you, Cirien, if you sought enlightenment concerning their doings and futures; whom should you inquire of, their parents, or a family friend?"

"I suppose if I desired to seek information in secret I should ask the friend," said Cirien, "for a parent might be wary of a grown man inquiring into his child's affairs, but to gossip as one lord betwixt another of an acquaintance's family seems the more innocent.  And you are one of the Firstborn; few of the Rohirrim – few Men, for that matter – know aught about you and your folk; it is likely he thinks you an easy target.  Also, Legolas, you are viewed in some quarters as quite soft; your largesse is well-known, as is your tender heart toward little ones; there are many who think a kind heart obstructs a shrewd eye."

"Yes," said Legolas thoughtfully, thinking of Fastred running blithely to the shelter of his halls.  "I know that full well, though those seekers find otherwise when they ask charity of me."

"And whilst we speak of it," smiled Cirien, "what shall you do with the eldest son of Faramir of Ithilien?  Will you send him back or keep him here, to keep the sharper eye upon him?  And if you keep him here what will you do with him?  He is too old to let play and wander; especially now that so much depends upon him in the North."

"Your kind heart hides not your shrewd eye," said Legolas with a light laugh.

"But then I am not so kind as you," said Cirien wryly, "so my shrewdness is not quite so obstructed."

"Quite so," said Legolas.  "Well I am going to keep him, my friends; he came to me seeking sanctuary, so sanctuary he shall find here amongst my people in Dol Galenehtar.  He has promised to swear temporary fealty unto me, which perchance might hold him harder than filial ties at the moment; I have sent a message unto Faramir telling him of this, and plan to keep him here with me ere we set out for Rohan at midsummer."

"Knows little Fastred you take him to Rohan?" asked Araval in surprise.

"Nay!" said Legolas.  "Had he known he surely would have fled not towards me but from me.  I shall hold that niggling detail from him for now; it would do us no good to have him run away again, and who knows where he would go a second time?  I should like to have him at hand when I need him, and not go running about looking for him.  Besides what would I say unto his lady mother, if I lost him whilst he was under my care?"

Araval shuddered.  "O do not suggest such a thing; it is terrible to contemplate!" he said.  "Rather would I explain his loss unto his father than to the White Lady; he is adamant but she is frightening."

"So what will you do with him?" asked Cirien.  "Make him a page?  Take him as a second esquire?"

"Now it is you, Cirien, who frighten me," said Legolas, smiling.  "One esquire is enough, thank you!  No, I have decided he shall work in my hunting-barns."

"Capital!" cried Araval, clapping his fat hands.  "The dear small warrior, he will like that quite well.  Tyarmayél then?"

"No," said Legolas.  "I am sending him to work under my huntsmistress; he loves horses and riding, and would find the stables no chore at all.  Amongst the dogs and falcons is work aplenty, and he will learn the more that way."

"You are not sending him to Andunië!" exclaimed Araval aghast.  "What a terrible punishment for the boy!  Surely his iniquities deserve not that!"

"Andunië is not cruel," chided Legolas, raising his eyebrows at Araval.

"Not cruel, no," admitted Araval reluctantly; "but she is so stern and unmoving; that will be so hard on a boy of high spirits.  I mean no offense, my friend; I have known colder women, but to be sure they were already dead."

Despite himself Legolas laughed.  "You have not known her as have I," he said, draining his goblet.  "She is not cold – far from it!  There is fire in her though buried deep; one has but to wait and to listen and to work along side her and the warmth seeps out – reluctantly, I do admit to you, my lords both; she is stiff and unbending and it is a patient man who whittles away at her hard shell.  But as to Tyarmayél – she should be far too easy on Fastred; that, coupled with his love of horses, which he surely has inherited from his lady mother, should turn his stay here into a holiday, and that would not suit my purposes for him at all!  He has done his noble parents great injury, and sent a subtle insult also unto his uncle; for that he must be duly disciplined, and play and merriment are not part of that plan.  Nay, friends, it shall be Andunië, and her cool silence and brusque way; he respects her greatly, and even fears her a little; she shall have no trouble with Little Lord Fastred at all."

"Dear me!" sighed Araval.  "Poor Fastred!  Despite his perfidy I do feel within my bosom the stirrings of compassion and pity."

"For myself I should rather pity Andunië," said Cirien dryly.  "Have you told her, O my friend, that she shall be burdened with this young charge of yours?"

"Not yet," admitted Legolas.  "I think I shall spring that surprise on her when she is in a better mood than present; she has lost a falcon today, and is cross; after the feast this eve, when she learns from Tuilíndo that I have requisitioned the purchase of three eyasses from Targond in Minas Tirith – two speckled peregrines and one gray goshawk; a fine creature – with noble enough pedigrees; fierce and loyal and hand-fed from capture.  That I deem shall raise her spirits sufficiently, and as we discuss how she shall train three at once I shall slip in the news of Fastred's labor with her."

"A capital plan!" cried Araval approvingly.  "Perhaps then she shall not scold you overmuch."

"O Andunië never scolds me," said Legolas, waving one long white hand.  "Hirilcúllas scolds, Dúrfinwen scolds, Seimiel scolds, even Leithwen scolds, though gently.  But Andunië has never scolded me; ever her bearing towards me is one of acquiescence – disapproval betimes, but always acquiescence."  As he spoke there was the chiming of bells; Legolas looked over his shoulder out the window, through which he could descry the sun.  "One hour 'til feast-time!" he said cheerfully, getting up and setting his goblet upon the mantle.  "I ought to get me to my chambers to dress, ere Kaimelas and Bandobras come to look for me – I was so late this morn I have set them all back, and if any should scold me this day it shall be those two.  Have you all you need, my friends?  Shall I send in your esquires unto you?"

"Nay, I am knowledgeable enough I think to negotiate your halls," said Cirien; "Araval, shall I call your esquire, or perhaps some random Elf to get you up?  You seem less portable this eve."

"It is the wine," said Araval with a laugh.  "It is so good; I cannot but drink it!  Yes, perchance you might send in some agreeable Elf to aid me to my rooms – getting up is harder these days; I do not know how you stay so nimble, my lord Cirien.  One would think you were ten years my junior."

"I shall send Kaimelas," said Legolas.  "Then he will not have such occasion to reprove me for my tardiness.  By your leave, my lords both!"  With a graceful bow he exited the room, leaving the two knights in the gloaming.

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Legolas as lord of the feast did excel in amiability that night; his Elves, forever hospitable and merry, made the banquet hall to ring with laughter, filled as it was with the delectable scents of the harvest of the kitchens.  Even Araval, forever hungry, was satisfied with the roast venison, the geese stuffed with bread and chestnuts, the boars' heads surmounted with apples, the platters of dried sausages and creamy cheeses, the thick-crusted bread that broke apart into steaming white marrow when torn, the olives and potato fritters and pickled vegetables, and the abundance of wine of course – sweet cold white wine from the eastern slopes of the Ephel Dúath, sharp blush from the fields of the Pelennor with a bite to match the dark yellow cheese with which it was paired, rich dry red wine from the lower vineyards to drink with the game.  Indeed Araval had sampled so much goodness that by the time the pork pies were served his trencher was sodden with gravy and he was obliged to request a new one, offering the old to the huntsmistress, Andunië, for her dogs.  After the serving-Elf had brought it over Araval watched her where she sat, near the lower end of the hall off the dais, clad in a simple gown of pale green, her tawny hair pulled back with a gold fillet; though all her companions laughed and sang and spoke in merry revelry Andunië held herself still, absorbed with her trencher in silence, attending with preoccupied air to the conversation about her.  When the serving-Elf presented to her the trencher, with the message from Lord Araval of Tarlang that it was to be brought to her hounds, she turned seeking him out amongst her lord's guests on the dais; Araval smiled at her and raised his great silver goblet in salute.  She in turn raised her own plain tumbler up to him, acknowledging him with a slight upward curve of her lips and an inclination of her head, barely marked.  Pleased with himself, Araval took a deep draught, and humming a lively air set himself to carving a large portion of the smoked pheasant sitting before him, making sure to take with it a goodly scrap of the richly seasoned skin.

"For shame, Araval," said a cheery voice in his ear; "you flirt so with my house-maidens and distract them from their proper duties.  I shall inform your wife of this, and she shall take unto you a good heavy belt when you return to your home!"

Araval turned to see his host beside him, resplendent in his ornamented robes of green and yellow; the elaborate beading and embroidery flashed and sparkled in the mellow light of the candelabra above them, and the great mithril crown surmounted his head like the nimbus about a snowy moon.  In one hand he held his golden goblet, filled again with dark red wine; in his other he took a small pasty in his fingers, which he popped into his mouth with a wink.  "Try the pasties, my lord of Tarlang!" Legolas said, taking a drink.  "They are made with mushrooms and thyme – I shall set you a game now; do you guess for me who made them!"

"That is no game but a sure thing," said Araval; "if they contain mushrooms for certain it is your esquire had much to do with their composition!"

"Ah, you are too canny for me," sighed Legolas with mock-sorrow.  "Soon even you shall rival Cirien for wisdom.  Tell me, O my friend, for what purpose did you send your trencher to my huntsmistress?  Seek you alliance with her, or are you as Galás has just now suggested entranced with her many charms?"

"Neither!" said Araval, his belly jiggling with mirth.  "Rather I wished to see her smile; I have watched her this night as she sits there betwixt Tyarmayél and Hwindiö, and have not seen even the ghost of a smile upon her lips since she entered the hall.  I did however manage to eke one out of her; I thought I might, if I sent a gift to her dogs; I am convinced one could give unto that maiden an offering of the most splendid of gems and jewels, set in twisted gold and shining silver, and get naught for one's pains; however to send a present to her hounds might perhaps stimulate her to more lighthearted mien.  And as you can see, O Green Knight, I was correct; did you not see that she smiled at me?  To be sure it was not much of a smile, but it was more than I have seen of her since I have made her acquaintance, and it is rising ten years for that."

"Very well," said Legolas, his eyes twinkling; "I shall absolve you then of attempting to waylay my maids with your sly ways.  But know you this; already have I coaxed a smile from her, when I informed her earlier she should be receiving those falcons."

"I am crushed yet again!" said Araval shaking his head.  "But perhaps it is just as well; I would not have you telling tales on me to my wife for anything."

"Behave yourself then," smiled Legolas, clapping his friend on the shoulder, and went to attend unto his other guests.

"Where is Fastred?" asked Cirien when Legolas had gone to him and bid him try the pasties.  He unlike his friend Araval had abstained from the richer foods, finding them indigestible, though Legolas noted with pleasure he seemed to be enjoying the boiled beef with herbs.  "You have not forbidden him from feasting?"

"Nay!" said Legolas.  "So fatigued was the poor thing this eve that he took but a bowl of broth and cup of fresh milk ere retiring; perchance he shall be rested enough in the morning to foregather with you and my Lord Araval.  He did good work today, writing for the redemption of his conscience five letters of apology; I perceive his breast is well-beaten and on the morrow he may start his apprenticeship with my huntsmistress."

"I venture to guess that our friend Araval sent unto her that trencher to cheer her countenance," said Cirien, looking across the table at that jolly lord of Tarlang, who was laughing and talking with the Elves all round him.

"He did," said Legolas; "to Araval's mind the sober face is the sad face; he knows not the joy can be hidden beneath such gravity."

"And is Andunië joyful this eve?" asked Cirien with a smile, refilling his friend's goblet.

"I assure you she is," said Legolas; "so pleased was she with news of her three new charges I felt confident enough to tell her about Fastred; she did not so much as flinch, my Lord Cirien, and even ventured to admit – albeit grudgingly – that he might be an aid unto her as she trained the eyasses.  And though Tyarmayél is disappointed I did not assign Fastred unto her (for he has been since birth an especial pet of hers), she graciously consented unto Andunië that Fastred would be better suited in the kennels, furthering the goodwill betwixt those two in the barns."  He lowered his voice then and said, his fair face serious:  "I have had a letter from Éomer; it was delivered by one of Elessar's messengers not five minutes before I left my chambers for the feast.  The news is not good; will you meet with me after the dances in my offices?  For I greatly desire to speak with you regarding this report, and to garner such wisdom as you might be benevolent enough to bestow upon me.  I might ask Araval to join us anon," he added, smiling, "should that good lord abstain some from the wine-jugs; otherwise it might be best to leave him here."

"I am as always at your eager and immediate disposal," said Cirien.  He glanced round the hall then, at the chattering Elves, the merry musicians, the servers running to and fro with platter after platter of good food, and said, "The feast is likely to go on into the night – will you dispense then with your presence in the dances?"

"I had best not," said Legolas shaking his head; "Bandobras becomes quite irritable when I neglect my duty in that area.  I am constrained to at least five rounds; you might show due support of your poor host and join him in the fray." When Cirien hesitated Legolas added slyly:  "I shall find for you a good partner, fair of face and not given to much prattle – Liquíseleé perhaps?  She is quiet enough, and possesses both visage and carriage so well-designed as to turn any man's head, even one so sober and careful as your own; also do I recall your predilection for fair-haired maids.  O do you join us, Yellow Knight; many years has it been since I have seen you to make merry upon my rushes."

"You are too kind," said Cirien wryly.  "Very well, I shall dance as well, and so please my host and his Halfling."

"Your humble servant!" said Legolas, rising and bowing floridly; with a laugh and a wave he went off to see to his other guests.