The Nights are Brighter

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*Chapter title inspired by the Pink Floyd song "High Hopes"

The banquet hall of Caras Galadhon was high above the city overlooking the palace grounds

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The banquet hall of Caras Galadhon was high above the city overlooking the palace grounds. Dozens of hanging lanterns glimmered in the silver-tinged branches of the great mallorns. Legolas felt like he had ascended into the heavens. He had seen the great banquet hall before, of course, but that was during the War of the Ring. The city had been shadowed by sorrow and grief. Now, the Lorien elves were pushing themselves to soak up these final moments in Middle Earth, their hands ready to seize what joy was left. The talans in the trees lit up the night sky. All through the trees, clear-chorused songs of elven voices lilted, caught on wings of the evening breeze and made the stars shine even closer. They were singing of Earandil sailing, of the sweet west calling, and for some, of their new kingdom-come, Ithilien.

As Legolas entered the great banquet hall, a more spindly elf, whose lines on his face and the occasional glimmer of silver in his hair gave him away as being very aged, commented, "I know that I shall remember this place, for surely even Valinor itself could not prove quite so gracious."

Legolas could not have agreed more. The banquet table was a feast for the eyes, long enough to accommodate a hundred elves. The top was strewn with fern fronds, silver bowls of blushing fruit, bottles of wine, steaming platters of venison, milky lit candles, and slender goblets. The table filled quickly with members of the highest orders of elven folk.

Legolas found himself seated near a myriad, well, of quite boring individuals. Most of them were Celeborn's advisors and council members, who surely had a long list of dull questions to ask. He looked far down to the left of the table where he saw many of the younger elves, toasting and laughing about the day's joke, or bragging to one another about various contests of skill and daring. On the other side of the long table, he could see the captains of the guard, discussing battles and defense systems. Haldir and Farothin were there, and apparently Farothin was receiving some sort of a tongue-lashing, for he stared down at his plate and pushed his meat around with his knife. I would still trade places with him, thought Legolas, and he braced himself for a new onslaught of very tedious questions from Gilgafier, an elf who always looked like his robes were too tight.

"And how is your family in Eryn Lasgalen, Legolas, my boy? It's been a very long time since we have had the pleasure of your father or elder brother's company," he asked.

"They are well enough. My father has been spending most of his time helping my older brother prepare for the throne. After Oromer's marriage, father has been more anxious to retire from duty. And, of course, my two sisters are as lovely and charming as ever."

"I must admit, Legolas," added Gilfier, Gilgafier's son, "I was a bit surprised that you did not bring your sisters with you to Lothlorien. The Lady's court would have been overjoyed with their presence. I have heard that they are everything gorgeous and good."

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