Thingol inspected himself in the full-length mirror. He prided himself on looking impeccable, letting his people see their success through him. It was normal everyday attire but still, he had an image to uphold. Satisfied he turned and walked to the bed and his sleeping wife. Memories of the preceding night warmed his mind. He watched her sleeping, silken sheets covering her naked form, tousled hair and peaceful expression. For a moment he watched her slow breathing and remembered the shared sighs, groans, pleading and laughter of just a few hours ago. His outward reaction to his musings brought him back to the task at hand. His young cousins and advisors were leaving for the Narog at midday, and he had work to be done.

Melian felt his presence but did not open her eyes. Instead she gave him a content sleepy smile. She rolled onto her stomach and tiredly extended her arm, too heavy to lift off the bed. She beckoned to him with her fingers, motioning innocently like a child grasping for a favorite toy. Thingol sat on the bed. “I must go,” he said and leaned over and kissed her cheek.

She rolled onto her side and faced him, the movement drawing the covers away and exposing her breasts.

She opened her eyes and sleepily said, “Stay.”

Contemplating the invitation, he sighed, “I have things that require my attention.” Seeing her raised eyebrow, he chuckled lightly. “Things that will not wait.”

The corner of Melian’s mouth edged up into a smirk. “Mmhmm?” She hummed, suggesting it was she who would not wait.

He shook his head and snorted, allowing her to hear the indulgent exasperation in his voice when he said, “You are insatiable.”

She pulled the sheet over her, cuddled with a pillow and in her best doe eyed elleth imitation, batted her eyes. “Does this trouble you, My King? Do you find my enthusiasm unbecoming?”

Another unkingly snort. He reached and gently cradled her chin in his hand. He drew close and whispered, his voice thick with ardor, eyes deadly serious. “Oh no, my Queen. I would lie here and ravage you until even your Valinorean stamina withers.” He watched her eyes darken. Softening his, he smiled teasingly. “But would you have us miss our Guests’ departure?”

She narrowed her eyes and gave an frustrated huff, “No, but when they have gone, I will have you all to myself, and unless the Star Kindler herself is at our door, you shall make good on your words.”

She reached up and laced her fingers in his silver hair. She drew him closer, brushing her lips against his. “Leave me then, Elu…before I forget propriety.” She touched her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

Thingol’s resolve weakened with the close proximity of her sleep warmed skin. He returned the kiss but with more ardor. He pressed his tongue between her lips and she accepted his intrusion. He pushed her down to the bed, then grazed his long fingers up her side and gently cupped her breast. She broke the kiss, smiled into his lips and whispered a mild threat. “Elu, do that again… and we will insult our noble cousins.”

Thingol sighed and extricated himself from the bed and his now chaste wife. He stood, smoothed his clothes and strode to the door. He opened it and paused. Turning to face her, he said, “When our kin and their escorts are safely on their way, you will have my undivided and merciless attention.” With a flourish and a bow, he backed out and shut the door. Melian, Queen of Doriath, watched the closed door for a moment and then closed her eyes. A small, content grin still on her face, she returned to sleep.

Before exiting the royal apartments, he found the maidservant and asked her to have the Queen’s breakfast sent to her and her bath drawn. He also asked her if she would have rose petals added to the bath. The maidservant bowed to her lord in acknowledgement.

As the king walked away, the servant smiled to herself. She could always tell when the King and Queen were on an amorous streak. It was not just how they glowed with contentment but the whole of Doriath seemed to be more beautiful. People were kinder, husbands and wives more affectionate. Like the first herald of spring in winter, the bliss of the Royals seeped into the air, the forest, the earth, and the people. In about a year, the Halls would be filled with joy as numerous couples welcomed newborns into the world.

~*~

Mablung and Beleg sat on a low wall down from the main doors of Menegroth as the party prepared to depart.

“We will have to teach them how to travel without alerting every creature within miles.” Mablung said quietly to his companion.

Beleg sighed. “They are a noisy lot, are they not? Just hope they can defend themselves.”

A feminine voice interrupted the duo’s quiet conversation. “Remember, my lords, they have been through a hardship we cannot imagine, and they have been blooded.”

Mablung and Beleg jumped with surprise and turned around to find Luthien standing right behind them. Luthien’s lip curled up, slightly smug, at their reaction. Both stood and greeted the Princess.

Mablung put his hand on his heart in greeting and gave a slight bow. “Apparently, Your Highness, it should be you who teaches them.”

Luthien slipped into the ease of simple conversation with her former teachers. “You will find this lot quite appreciative of our talents, Swordmaster.”

Beleg said, “I have heard Lord Finrod is quite taken with Menegroth. Rumor has it that he will try to copy it in the caves along the Narog.”

“Now, Beleg, you know how the birds love to chitter about. But I doubt he has such lofty goals. I am sure Finrod sees the caves as an opportune location of strength. He has no Maia to keep out intruders. Nor will he have the Strongbow and the Heavy Hand protecting his borders.”

Just then, the King and Queen emerged from the hall. Luthien saw her parents and excused herself, leaving the two commanders glowing with her compliment.

“How does she do that?” Mablung asked his friend as they watched Luthien walk away.

“What? Sneak up on her most able defenders or leave us feeling like we were just scolded by the King and then received a kiss from the Queen herself?”

After a pause, Mablung said, “My thoughts, exactly.” He clapped his friend on the back and said, “Come, let us greet our counterparts and make sure our cousins from across the sea are prepared.”

Mablung asked one of the Noldor where their captain was. The trooper, attired Sindar fashion, pointed to a similarly dressed ellon trying to improperly attach his sword to the saddle of his mount. And the mount’s patience was waning.

“Captain Gildor.”

Frustrated with the bindings, Gildor gave a short reply without turning. “Yes?” He turned to see Mablung and stopped struggling with the saddle. Apologetically, he said, “Oh. Forgive me Swordmaster, but I cannot find the bindings to attach my sword.”

Mablung motioned towards the offending saddle, “May I?”

Gildor stepped out of the way. “By all means.”

Mablung untied the offending sword from the front of the saddle and lifted up the skirt in the back.

Mablung explained as he slipped the sword and scabbard underneath the flap. “We put it in the back, hilt facing the rear.”

Gildor asked, “Slower to draw?”

Mablung answered, “Yes, but it does not easily catch every branch and vine you pass either.”

Seeing the wisdom, Gildor made an understanding sound and said, “Now that we have that solved, how can I be of service?”

“I wanted go over the ordering of our forces again. It will be a few weeks before there will be any real concern, but there may have been changes since last night and I wanted you and me to be in agreement. Rarely has such a congregation of Royalty ventured outside of Doriath”

“Two Princesses, a Prince and five of their most trusted advisors, one would think this was a delegation, not a scouting trip.” Gildor agreed ruefully. “But I am not aware of any changes. After our meeting yesterday, I briefed my soldiers on their positions and responsibilities. Scouts ahead followed by Edrahil and Beleg, nobles in the middle, you and I, then bowmen bringing up the rear. Swords and Bows paired and on alternating sides. And I like the idea of pairing my men with yours. Hopefully by the time stealth is needed, we will have picked up some of your tricks.”

Mablung smiled. “That idea, my friend, was handed down from above.” He nodded to the nobles mounting their horses.

Mablung saw Artanis’ lady-in-waiting, Linde, and his smile brightened slightly.

“Excuse me, Gildor, but I think I should go see if your Lord and Lady need assistance.”

Gildor turned and followed Mablung’s gaze. He noted Mablung’s expression and thought that it was not the Lord and Lady whom the Swordmaster intended to assist.

“Of course, I will see you at the back of the line.”

Mablung nodded and headed off towards the nobles.

~*~

Once underway, the nobles gravitated into cross-cultural pairs, Finrod alongside Luthien and Artanis with Celeborn.

Finrod and Luthien had been riding in an easy silence when he heard Artanis giggle and Celeborn laugh in reply.

With out turning to Luthien, Finrod smiled to himself and quietly said, “Celeborn is quite charming.”

Luthien replied, “So is she, I have not seen him like this in some time. He is quite taken with her.”

Finrod looked at Luthien, surprised at the amount of information he just received.

“I was going to say the same thing. I have not heard her do that since Valinor.”

Finrod looked over the procession, listened to the conversational chatter and noted the general good spirits. Not that there was any reason for tension, but there was an unusual amount of cheer. He thought about his riding companion and warmed at the fact that she was near.

Luthien watched him and his expression turned quizzical. She hazarded a guess at his train of thought. “The King and Queen are happy and everybody feels it.”

“I noted the King and Queen were most affectionate, holding hands, long gazes when they thought no one was watching. But how does that affect others?”

“I am not sure, but every time they are so involved, marriages and little ones usually follow. I have a theory it is a side affect of the Girdle, the land obeys my mother and to some extent my father. When they are happy, it rejoices with them. Can you not feel the change in the air? ”

“My mood has indeed been light.” He turned to her and gave her a charming, toothy grin. “But I was attributing it to present company.”

Luthien reached down and patted her mare, who nickered and swished her tail in response. Luthien faced him, fixed her gaze on him and replied, “I am also quite content with present company.”

They watched each other in silence for a moment, not a contest of wills but an unspoken question. Finrod held her gaze and wondered if she felt as he did. With each passing heartbeat that she met his eyes, he was sure she felt it too.

Finrod slowly smiled, “Should we tell them now? Or wait until later?”

Luthien looked forward and with a sly smile and asked, “Tell them what, Your Highness?”

Finrod paused; her question puzzled him for just a moment. The brief flash of apprehension was allayed when he saw the knowing grin tug at the corners of her mouth.

Finrod turned in his saddle, finding Celeborn and Artanis watching them with amused interest. Artanis politely tried to look away, as if she and Celeborn had not been watching the exchange.

Celeborn did not. Finrod studied Celeborn for a moment, searching for any indication of disapproval. Finrod saw that he was being studied in kind. Celeborn smiled and nodded. Finrod returned the nod and the smile. Silently endorsing the other’s suit.

~*~

Farothir had received news only a day before the Royals would arrive. The King had granted him lordship of the area around the crossing where the Esguldin met the Sirion. A village with a small garrison had grown up after the battles a few years before Isil had risen. Situated so close to the Girdle, it was his duty to not only maintain the Crossing, but also to gather intelligence of the lands beyond. The messenger had given him a list of who was in the entourage and he was a little anxious. Not that he had been lax in his duties; what had him and the people of his post in a flurry was not only Her Highness Luthien, but a Noldor Princess. And a Noldor Prince. And Lord Celeborn. And Lords Mablung and Beleg.

But he was prepared. Lord Celeborn had suggested Farothir to the King for this assignment and the King chose him for his dependability and efficiency. Yet, he did not want to give his lord any reason to doubt his choice of commanders. And while he was busy gathering information from all his warriors and making last minute preparations, his wife, Loniel, was a whirlwind of energy, excited beyond reason at the guests she would entertain.

She organized the domestic side of hosting such dignitaries with resourcefulness, even going so far as to commandeer some of Farothir’s younger warriors to help in the preparations. She rose to the task, never once complaining about lack of time or food or table linens. Farothir, more than once, looked on his wife with pride.

One of his men arrived just past noon, with news of the Royals’ approach.

“They are about an hour away, Captain.”

Farothir stood up from his desk and tidied up one last time. “Furion, ask Beldir to meet me at the Road, he and I will escort our guests. And also inform my wife…And then get yourself cleaned up.

~*~

Luthien appraised the feast arrangements and addressed the lady of the hall, “I am sorry you went to so much trouble on our account, Lady Loniel. We certainly did not intend for you to prepare such entertainment on such short notice. A warm fire and friendly company would have sufficed.” Not wanting to seem unappreciative of her subject’s efforts, she added, “But the fact that you organized such a grand welcome in so little time speaks highly of your domestic skill and efficiency. Not to mention your husband’s competence as lord of these lands.” Luthien turned from her appraisal of the extensive meal and addressed Loniel with a smile. “You chose well, as did Lord Celeborn.”

Loniel’s only previous experience with the Princess had been as a spectator watching the exalted royalty. And now the only daughter of King Elu Thingol and Melian the Maia was here, complimenting her, her home and her husband. She willed her fluttering heart to calm and said, “You are too kind, your highness. But we do not often have the royalty of not only one House, but two, visit us.”

Artanis stood a step behind Luthien and watched the exchange between the two women. She admired the Lady Loniel, gracious and calm in the light of such a high compliment from such a high place. Artanis smiled inwardly, knowing the woman would be aglow for years.

Luthien then turned, allowing Artanis to step forward. “Lady Loniel, may I introduce you to Her Highness, Artanis Finarfiniel.”

Loniel bowed her head and curtsied. “I am honored, Your Highness.”

Artanis nodded in reply and said, “It is my pleasure, Lady Loniel. And I agree with the Princess’s assessment.”

Loniel’s smile brightened even further. “Thank you Your Highness. Is there anything special we may prepare for you? It would be no trouble.”

“No, but thank you. I already noted you have the strawberries my brother and I find irresistible. But please, do not add any on our account. What you have prepared is more than ample.”

Loniel curtsied again and said. “If there is nothing I can get for you?” She paused for the royals to answer.

Luthien turned to Artanis, who shook her head. “No Lady Loniel, we are well looked after. Please do not delay on our behalf.”

Loniel bowed and said, “Then would you please excuse me, there are still a few things that need my attention.” She bowed to Luthien and said with a bright smile, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Your Highness.” She did the same for Artanis and said, “And you as well, Lady Artanis.”

Both nodded a bow in return and Luthien replied, “Our pleasure.”

Luthien and Artanis watched the woman buoyantly walk away. Artanis said, “She was about to burst.”

Still watching their receding host, Luthien commented smiling pleasantly, “She was, was she not?” Then added dryly, “I need to see more of my father’s subjects. Admiration is nice but awe is not something that sits well with me. It indicates unavailability, something my father strives against. I would ask if we could help but I think we would only hinder things.”

Artanis merely said, “Indeed.” Inwardly she remarked that none other than Eru himself could have made such a perfect match.

~*~

Farothir’s hall had proven to be an especially warm place. Finrod was surprised at the breadth of the feast prepared on such short notice. But it was afterwards that caused Finrod to smile in awe. He remembered harping for Luthien, and the stunned silence afterwards. Only Celeborn, Beleg and Mablung seemed unaffected by Luthien’s voice. No one had even noticed his accompaniment. And though he was not jealous, he was accustomed to a few comments. But he could not hold it against the audience members; so enthralling was her song that he could not remember the notes he played.

Others played and sang, allowing Luthien and Finrod to dance. More than once it was remarked that they made a handsome couple.

Linde sat with Mablung, resting while others carried on the dance. She was growing fond of his presence and they sat in a comfortable silence, watching the twirling crowd. Linde chided. “Drawing all eyes as usual.”

Mablung was a little surprised at Linde’s unusual familiarity regarding Luthien. Then he realized she was referring to Finrod. “He has help.”

Still watching the couple, Linde added, “She is stunning. Lord Angrod did say she was more beautiful than any in Valinor, save Varda herself.”

“Did he?” Mablung refrained from agreeing.

Linde found herself hoping his silence was for her benefit.

It was. Mablung tentatively reached for her hand, resting on her knee. She felt his hand lightly cover hers. She did not pull away.

Gildor and Edrahil stood towards the edge of the merriment, sipping wine and observing the crowd. Edrahil remarked. “Remember what you told me about Mablung?”

“His interest in Lady Linde? Yes.”

Edrahil motioned with a nod in the direction of the couple holding hands.

“Ah… I wondered how long it would take him. On the ride here, he kept going forward for some reason or another. He will have his hands full. She has long been around Finarfin’s most willful daughter. But if she is true to form, Mablung will have no trouble holding her eye.” He paused a moment and then added with a wistful sigh. “ And what is it about these Sindar that attracts us?”

“Us, Gildor?”

Gildor manufactured a cough. “Well yes… there is Prince Finrod and the Princess, Lord Celeborn and our lord’s sister, Lady Linde and Lord Mablung…”

“Us Gildor? My friend, is there something you need to tell me?” Edrahil smiled evilly at his friend, relishing catching Gildor’s slip.

Gildor snorted. “Need Edrahil? There is no need to tell you anything… but I might as well tell you since you will not be content until I do. Yes, there is someone who has caught my eye in Menegroth.”

“Are there no Calaquendi who hold your eye?”

“I am merely following our lord’s lead… But there are none like her, she is beautiful my friend.” Gildor’s eyes focused on something distant. “Delicate as a lily, hair like a starlit pool, and eyes that sparkle like sapphires.”

Edrahil choked. “Gildor...” He covered his mouth trying not to laugh. “You. Are. Smitten.”

“You are one to talk. I seem to remember a certain nis that was your topic of conversation most of the way from Minas Tirith to Menegroth.”

Edrahil could not resist one last jibe. “Eyes sparkling like sapphires… I will have to remember that one.” He collected himself and pressed further. “Does this vision have a name?”

“She is one of Her Highnesses ladies, Rostield.”

Edrahil chuckled again. “She did not join us did she? You must be crushed. Then you must hope what is happening between our lord and her highness becomes serious.”

Gildor quietly replied, “It is already serious, Edrahil. I have not seen him this way since Tirion. Yet more so.”

Edrahil’s sarcastic manner evaporated. “Are you sure?”

Gildor turned towards the dancers and he watched Finrod and Luthien.

“Look at him, Edrahil. He does not know there is another person in this crowded hall. And neither does she.”

Edrahil also watched the pair for a moment. “Do you think Fingolfin will oppose it?”

“I do not see why but I also do not think he has a choice. He may be the High King but I do not believe our lord would heed the opposition. This would not be the first time he ignored his elders.”

Edrahil winced and turned back to his friend. He looked around nervously. “Quite right. On that note, what do you think Elwe will do when he finds out?”

Gildor regarded Edrahil. “About them? Or…”

Edrahil nodded.

“I would rather not think about that my friend. We can only hope he does not.”

Edrahil looked at Gildor, frowning and raising an eyebrow.

Gildor did not meet his friend’s eyes. “I know Edrahil.” He looked down into his cup, disguising a worried look. “He will.” Gildor and Edrahil watched the Prince and Princess a moment longer. “And who knows what will become of this.”

Edrahil drew a deep breath and exhaled. “Come friend, let us enjoy our unenlightened cousins while we may. And perhaps they will not view us in the same light as our enlightened ones.”

Gildor reluctantly smiled and said. “Another cup of wine it is.”

~*~

Celeborn leaned against a support timber of the hall, contemplating the house and its inhabitants. It was still new, only half a century or so old, and the beams and trusses still faintly smelled of resin. He sipped his last measure of cordial while Farothir dutifully excused his final guests and the tables were cleared. The hall echoed with a sigh of conclusiveness.

He watched Farothir smile and bow and thank those who were thanking him. Celeborn thought that Farothir’s father, who fell in the attempt to rescue Denethor*, would be proud his son had taken to lordship as if he were born to it.

Artanis and the rest of his company had already sought their quarters though Finrod, Luthien, Mablung and Linde had disappeared earlier, almost without notice. Celeborn smiled to himself and mused that the effects of Elwe and Melian’s lovemaking even reached this remote outpost.

He finished the cordial as he stood and approached the lord of the manor.

Interrupting Farothir’s sigh, Celeborn said, “I see this command suits you Farothir.”

“Thank you, my lord. I am grateful for your endorsement and am content that you have not found me wanting.” Farothir said rather stiffly.

“Farothir, you are off duty, be at ease. For the moment I am your father’s old friend and I seek the company of the son of an old friend.” Celeborn gently admonished.

“Yes si… Celeborn.” Farothir stumbled then composed himself. “It is a heady group you travel with, My Lord.”

“Quite... But we did not intend to cause such a fuss. It has been the same since Menegroth, everyone wants to put out their best for the royals.”

“You sound frustrated? Would you expect anything less?

“No, perhaps not, just hoping I guess. I tire of the pomp of the court sometimes. I miss sleeping in the trees and listening to Doriath.”

“You sound like Daeron, My Lord.” Farothir hazarded a jibe.

Celeborn snorted. “That I do. On occasion, I find myself envying The Singer. But duty usually calls and I must settle some disagreement or other.”

“Careful, or I will have to call the musicians back.”

Celeborn looked at his companion sternly for a moment and then a chuckle broke his facade. “Oh we cannot have that, I believe they have all sought their beds and loved ones. ” Celeborn shook off his melancholy thoughts and changed the subject. “What are your impressions of the Noldor?”

“Not what I was expecting My Lord.” Farothir hesitated.

Celeborn put him at ease. “I am still your father’s friend.”

“From what I have heard, I was expecting them to be more demanding and aloof. And if it were not for the presence of Her Highness, the Lady Artanis would have been the focus of many eyes.”

“She is striking is she not?” Celeborn said, letting a little fondness into his voice.

Farothir dodged the comment, not wanting to push his luck. “Yes, and her brother is a skilled harper, and curious too.”

Mildly exasperated, Celeborn asked, “He did not interrogate you too insistently? He has questioned many an engineer and craftsman in Menegroth.”

“Not too bad, sire. It was genuine, like he wants to learn from us. Not what I was expecting.”

“This branch of the House of Finwe is not what any of us expected, Farothir.” Celeborn agreed.

“Should I send out someone to look for him and Her Highness?”

Celeborn was now very interested, but asked nonchalantly, “Why?”

“They left some time ago and no one has seen them since. I would hate any harm befall them while under my protection.”

“No, that will be unnecessary. They are quite capable.” Celeborn let the comment pass. He changed tack again. “Now for a little business. I have been unable to talk to you privately, is there anything that needs my attention, or anything that you desire of Menegroth?”

“None that I know of my lord, but I believe some form of regular communication may be a good idea, perhaps weekly?”

“That may be too regular. However, I do believe that would be a wise tactic. We should set up some kind of normal routine. I will see it done when I return to Menegroth.”

“Thank you, my lord. That is all that comes to mind. Is there anything you would have me change?”

“No, Farothir, you have surpassed the King’s expectations.” Celeborn let the compliment absorb and noted that Farothir took it well, confident enough without the praise.

Farothir said, “Thank you, sire.”

Celeborn nodded and said. “Then I would suggest returning to your wife; she has had a long day. I will seek my own bed, I think. Tomorrow will be long as well.”

Farothir bowed and said, “Good night, my lord.”

“Rest well, Lord Farothir.”

~*~

Mablung and Linde walked along the sandy bank of the Sirion, talking quietly, not wanting to disturb the night. Mablung suddenly halted.

Linde whispered, “What is…?”

Mablung put a finger to his mouth and she immediately fell silent. He tapped his ear, telling her to listen.

They heard splashes ahead of them. An elleth and ellon laughed boistrously.

Linde recognized the male, and Mablung the female but neither gave any indication. Mablung smiled and gathered her close to whisper in her ear.

“I think we should turn back and retire.”

Linde assumed he pulled her close to be as quiet as possible, but his warm breath caressing her ear had a additional effect. She momentarily forgot the swimming couple and whispered in his ear, hoping the effect would be reciprocated. “A wise decision, My Lord.”

They turned and headed back to the hall in silence, contemplating not only the splashing pair but also the unspoken effects of the whispered words.

~*~

A/N
Though the Elves did not require saddles, I am using a little license and assuming they used them as a way to carry additional items on horseback.

*Denethor was the king of the Green Elves in Ossiriand, he died in the First Battle of Beleriand.