Greenwood The Great

Summer

The soothing breeze of summer entered through the oversized balcony, waltzing to the rhythm the soft melody of the swaying trees outside. The warm rays of golden sunlight washed over the green forest outside, the vast blue sky devoid of any clouds. All kinds of wild birds chirped upon the branches, adding their songs to the multiple summer solstice's celebrations that were currently taking place all over the kingdom of Mirkwood.

King Thranduil stood inside his large bedchambers, tall and regal, dressed in formal robes of a rich olive color, the fabric falling gracefully all the way to the floor, embroidered in intricate patterns of golden thread and pearls. His long blond hair fell perfectly combed down his back and to his waist, tiny silver beads incrusted in his braids. The Elvenking wore no crown, the physical symbol of his status currently lay neatly on its opened cushioned box over his dresser. There would be no need for him to wear his crown today. He was already going to stand out enough at Alarya's family's summer solstice celebration. He definitely did not need the crown to make the situation any more awkward.

The light sound of approaching footsteps made him turn his head towards the door where he caught sight of his closest friend and advisor appearing at the doorframe. Doronor bowed respectfully before entering the piece, stopping only some steps in front of him.

"Everything is ready, my Lord. Your escort awaits you." Said his advisor with a slight bow of his head. Those were precisely the words he had been vainly hoping would never come. He did not miss the silent smirk that crept over his friend's face as he spoke, and simply shot his iced eyes in his direction, a burning look that meant the advisor was not allowed to comment on the situation.

"Thank you, Doronor." He replied with a small nod, silently walking out of the comfort of his chambers as his advisor held the door open for him, still smirking remorselessly, although wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

The way down to the main entrance of the Palace seemed shorter than ever before. With every step he took forward he longed to take two steps back. Oh, Valar, he wanted the celebration to be over and it had not even started. Truth was, he had now idea what to expect, what he was supposed to do? Or to say? This simple family celebration challenged all of his knowledge. Elbereth! He would rather sit at a table full of dwarves. At least there he would know how to act!

A group of guards was already waiting for him at the main courtyard of the Palace, as expected, all of them bowing their heads respectfully as he approached. Silently, Thranduil made his way towards a young elf he did not know the name of, who was currently holding the reins of his horse, simply nodding his head politely as the elf relinquished the reins to his extended hand. He leaped effortlessly on the back of the magnificent white animal, draping his long elegant robes over his bent arm as he lifted the other, the gesture weightless, almost lazy, but it did not take any other kind of command from his part for the small party of guards to start their march.

Thranduil rode at the front, as he customarily did, and it took nearly all of his willpower to keep the horse going forward. Much to his chagrin, he knew the way to Alarya's house in the forest was not a long one, no matter how much he wished at that moment that her house was in Imladris, or Lorien, or somewhere far, far away, were he would not be able to make it in time for the celebration. Of course he had not told Alarya, but the main reason he was so reluctant about joining her celebration was that he, the mighty King of Greenwood the Great, did not know how to attend such a simple thing as a family lunch. He was clueless, completely lost. He knew how to be King, how to rule, how to lead thousands of warriors in battle, how to deal with crisis, deal with orc raids, spiders and other things. He knew how to host large celebrations, how to entertain guests at his dinner table, how to behave as a guest at other realms, how to address another King, a Lord, a servant. It seemed utterly and enterily baffling that such a simple, easy thing as a casual lunch terrified him thus. Valar, why had he agreed to come? And yet, what really made him wish he could just escape back to the Palace was the sole thought that he would be forced to interact with Lasgaer. No, he would not think about that now.