Interlude II: Conversation with the King

Legolas stared in apparent fascination at the richly carved edge of Thranduil’s desk. The prince stood as a warrior awaiting inspection, his legs slightly apart, hands behind his back. To each side one of the twins stood in a similar stance, though both seemed inordinately engrossed in the simple pattern woven into the ceiling of the king’s study.

Bathed, dressed, and modestly braided, the trio appeared the very picture of upright virtue and respectability.

Thranduil was not amused. "It was inexcusable behavior, Legolas," he said sternly, his intimidating emerald gaze fixed on his second son. "Have you any words?"

"I have no excuse, save over-indulgence in mead, híren," Legolas replied formally.

Elladan risked a glance at the king and found himself under scrutiny. As one golden eyebrow lifted in silent question, the elder twin met Thranduil’s gaze and inquired, "Permission to speak, Majesty?" Receiving a nod, he offered, "It was never our intent to discomfit you in any way. We regret the incident deeply, híren."

"I do not doubt the truth of that statement. Your intent was quite obvious, and had nothing to do with me," the king retorted with what might have been considered a snort, were the topic of conversation less serious. "And exactly what is it that you are regretting, Elladan?" Thranduil inquired, his eyebrow rising even higher. "Your actions, or my appearance in the cavern?"

"Ada!" Legolas broke in, too astounded by the audacity of the question to maintain his respectful demeanor. "That is hardly appropriate..."

"Be quiet, son," Thranduil said firmly, but without rancor. "It would be hard to find a question less appropriate than what I witnessed." Returning his attention to the elder twin, he prompted, "Well, Elladan?"

"I regret the distress caused to yourself, híren, and I realize the caverns are perhaps not the proper setting for such play," Elladan answered carefully, acutely aware that the object of said play stood beside him, armed with a boot-knife and blessed with a ferocious temper. "But, nay, I do not regret my actions."

Thranduil’s lips twitched slightly, almost unnoticeably, before he replied, "You are certainly Elrond's son, young one. Ever the diplomat, yes?" Focusing his attention on Elrohir, he asked pointedly, "Is it common practice in Imladris these days to couple beside a bathing pool?"

"Nay, híren, it is not common practice," Elrohir replied shortly, struggling vainly to smother memories raised by the inquiry.

But it is not unheard of either, is it, ‘Las?

Legolas stifled a snicker, his cheeks coloring slightly.

Hush, ‘Roh. That was a matter of comfort.

Elrohir risked a quick glance at the prince, his eyes twinkling.

It was rather more than comfortable, to my memory, anor nín.

Thranduil sighed heavily. "It is most impolite, not to mention unwise, to mindspeak during a lecture from an affronted ruler, younglings."

"Forgive me, híren," Elrohir began, a decidedly devilish gleam in his eye. "I only said such coupling was not common practice, but..."

Taking in the blazing cheeks and wide eyes of his son, the king raised a hand, interrupting the admission. "It is not necessary to supply details, Elrohir. ‘Tis impolite to mindspeak...it would be foolhardy to elaborate." Thranduil raised one hand to forestall any comment. "Such things are not done in Mirkwood," he said, drawing disbelieving glances from all three miscreants. "I do not mean to criticize the ways of other realms, but they are not ours, as Legolas well knows."

The well-informed second prince bit back a retort, keeping his face carefully neutral. Elladan and Elrohir remained entranced by the ceiling, the fractional raising of identical ebony eyebrows their only response.

Misreading the silence as abashed agreement, Thranduil continued with growing magnanimity. "The elves here are more reserved about such matters, perhaps due to our long years of near-isolation. Seldom is any show of affection made in public, save among elflings." Fixing his now-earnest gaze on the twins, he said, "It would be unthinkable for a resident of Mirkwood, even the coarsest warrior, to instigate such an act in a public place. It is..."

"’Tis absolute spider-dung, Ada," Legolas interjected, no longer able to restrain himself.

What in Arda are you doing, ‘Las? Let it go!

Ignoring Elladan’s incredulous response, Legolas kept his attention fixed firmly on Thranduil, whose eyes had narrowed dangerously. "Would you care to elaborate?" the king asked with frightening calm.

Swallowing hard, Legolas replied, "It was not their fault, Ada, and I would not have ‘Dan and ‘Roh - much less Imladris - blamed for a mistake of my making. They even tried to dissuade me."

The king pinned his son with an intense emerald glare. "You have a long history of coupling in public places, Legolas? Such that you would need to be discouraged from doing so?"

"Nay, Ada," the prince answered, drawing a deep breath. "But this was hardly the first time the caverns have been witness to such activity. There have been gatherings there for many years, of Mirkwood elves and guests alike, always in the smallest chamber. It is generally known and..."

Thranduil’s eyebrows reached new heights as he carefully digested this unexpected information. "It is generally known? What is generally known? That one risks tripping over a pile of rutting elves if he enters the caverns after dark?"

Elrohir broke in quietly. "If I may speak, híren?" Receiving a frigid nod from the king, he explained, "I believe that common wisdom reports that the gatherings take place and are somewhat ribald affairs, nothing more. As you said yourself last eve, Majesty, there are things of which you wish to remain blissfully unaware. I am sure the same may be said for many members of your court."

"’Roh is likely correct, híren," Elladan added soothingly. "There was surely no deliberate attempt to deceive. It would seem that you did not wish to know, so the subject never arose."

Inclining his head in at least partial acceptance of this explanation, Thranduil focused his attention once more on his son. In conversational tones, he asked, "And for just how long have I been blissfully unaware of these festivities, Legolas?"

Legolas mumbled something incomprehensible, suddenly fascinated by the toe of his left boot.

"I beg your pardon? I am afraid I could not quite understand you," Thranduil persisted.

Seemingly entranced by his own tunic clasps, the prince began, "Ada, surely it is not necessary..."

Thranduil drew himself up to his full height. Placing both hands on his desk, he leaned toward his second-born son. "How long?" he repeated, in a voice that brooked no argument.

Raising his eyes to meet an intense emerald gaze, Legolas winced, but answered truthfully, nonetheless. "About 500 years, híren."

The king’s reply was heard throughout the Halls.

"Legolas!"

*~*~*~*~*

híren - my lord
anor nín - my sun