Chapter Seven: Hunt Scanning the staggering groups of competitors with hawk-like eyes, Glorfindel leant against the balcony railing, hunter green robes falling gracefully over his lithe body. As Master of the Hunt, he dressed the part - looking remarkably stylish, and, what he considered to be, hunter-esque in earth tones. Behind him, many of the gathering nobles were politely conversing - considering their options and weighing their kingdom's likelihood of victory. From this balcony they would watch the initial proceedings, the starting ceremony and so on, and await the return - if there was to be a return - of the winner. Glancing behind him, Glorfindel caught Lord Elrond's eye. Everything was in order - it was time for the ceremony to begin. Descending the staircase, Glorfindel approached the field. A wide, white line had been drawn across the lawn - the starting line - and behind, a vast number of contestants gathered, ready to begin the competition. Raising his hands for silence - a great hush fell over the crowd, as all eyes turned toward the Master of the Hunt. "Welcome kinsfolk!" Glorfindel cried out - he loved this part of the games. "Welcome to the annual Midsummer Hunt!" A cheer arose from every corner of the field, until it seemed the entire valley was alive with shouting. Few would willingly miss the start of this competition. Waiting until the festive ruckus subsided, Glorfindel began again. "I'm sure there's no need for me to explain the rules, but for propriety, and the sake of tradition, I am going to do so anyway - and I'm sure you will all find it in your hearts to forgive me." With a wink at the crowd, which had groaned rather loudly at the elf lord's theatrics, Glorfindel cleared his throat. Though the rules were simple, they did take a but of explanation. "In this competition, each of the contestants will be hunting for a banner - identical to this one." He waved his hand grandiosely at a page, who had appeared beside him, brandishing a hefty blue flag. "Many of you will recognize the stars and emblems of Gil-Galad. This ensign is one of two - the other has been hidden by our very own Lord Elrond. Our contestants will spend today, all of today, on a quest for the hidden banner, which - with Lord Elrond's promises - will be rather difficult to find. Lord Elrond is the only person here who knows the location of the hidden banner - though I do not suggest anyone ask him where it is, by force or otherwise, as he will not tell you. Believe me - I've already tried." Scattered laughter and murmurings forced Glorfindel to pause again. "The Hunt does not end, however, when a contestant has found the banner, for that is when the real task begins. The first elf over the finish line, which is consequently also the starting line, will be the winner, and I wish all of you the best of luck in doing so. Stealing, or rather - borrowing with every intention of returning it once the game is over, the banner is entirely within the limits of the game, though I caution everyone against using extreme violence. Remember - no weapons are allowed." Several of the participants groaned at this - the no weapons rule was only recently added, to avoid serious injury - the game seemed to be getting more and more dangerous each year. "Now - in the event that the ensign is not located - that is, none of the contestants are able to find it, which, as we all know, has been known to happen." Celeborn shifted uneasily in his seat - four of LothL�rien�s nine victories had been without the banner. "If the ensign is not found, then the contestant who has displaced the greatest number of opponents shall be declared the winner. To determine this, each contestant will receive a necklace, with an appropriately coloured stone in the centre." Brightly dressed maids carrying baskets walked to each of the participants in turn, handing out necklaces. "Contestants from LothL�rien will wear gold stones, Imladris will have silver, and Mirkwood will have green. Any contestant that loses the necklace will be eliminated from the game and must return to the starting line. The elf with the greatest number of necklaces in his pos-" Glorfindel hesitated, glancing down the starting line quickly. "In his or her possession," he amended with a broad smile, "by this time tomorrow, will be the victor." "The Hunt will end with the return of the banner, or at this time tomorrow morning - depending on the outcome. In honour of the winner, a celebratory banquet will be held immediately afterwards, during which the old champion, if he loses, will present the new one with the crown and title." "The game will begin when the horn sounds. I wish you all the best of luck, and may the best elf, or she-elf, win!" The crowd erupted into cheers and tumultuous applause as elves jostled each other for the best places along the starting line. Tension skyrocketed and nerves soared as everyone awaited the harsh bugle that signalled the start. Raising the horn to his lips, Glorfindel loosed the frightful trumpeting - a massive swarm of people rushed, with the onlooker's approval, over the starting line. Many of the younger elves barely got more than a few metres across the field before they were tackled and trounced by their friends. Assuming that the banner would not be found, they were each of them attempting to get a head start on collecting necklaces. A great deal of the competition was eliminated in the first few minutes by this dangerous wrestling. The seasoned professionals, and those who had watched the Hunt with deep interest in previous years, skirted around these writhing piles of warriors and made for the forest, each keeping a weather eye open for any sign of blue. Back on the balcony, Elrond watched the action from a raised dais - silver eyes twinkling with anticipation as he watched both Uruviel and Haldir disappear beyond that tree line. "And now..." he commented calmly, "we wait." Back |
