I am so sorry! This SHOULD have been updated forever ago! I'm distracted. I have so many stories running riot in my imagination at the moment. GAH! Terrible author...I know I am you don't have to tell me...

Okay so the Mid-Winter Feast chapters will be in Three parts. Just feels right to do it that way.

This chapter begins after Thranduil has had his outburst at the table at the feast, and is hiding out - as usual - watching the party unfold from a relatively safe distance.

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She was beautiful...truly breathtaking. I had never saw her look so regal in all of her time here, and as per true Clara fashion, she had not the faintest notion of how dazzling her presence was.

I have hid out, behind the pillar of the darkest corner I could possibly find, and still I see how she radiates life from here.  With a sigh I proceed to lean my weight through the stone and continue to watch her, obscured by the deep green of the thick velvety banners draping the walls of the Great Hall.  A smile tugs on my lips as I watch her spin in lively circles with the children. Her cheeks flushed pink with giddy exertion. The hems of her dress hoisted up so she can demonstrate her fancy footwork to excitable elflings.

I note the dainty slippers, and I suppress a chuckle at the mere thought of her trying to execute similar steps in ridiculously  heeled shoes. I had clear visions of her ripping them from her feet and lobbing them at the nearest unsuspecting Lord or Lady. No, my Clara is not very fond of complicated fashion...although that dress?

I may be slightly distracted and more than a little hot under the collar when she exposes just a little more of her shapely calf through the sleek, almost mist like material.  I believe that dress was made to be teasing, for it follows the line of body so perfectly - from the curve of her leg, to fullness of her hip, and the length of her back, scooping across her chest so I have just enough neck exposed to allow my desires to run riot.

I feel like a youth again, she makes me feel hot blooded and possessive, all those things that you are supposed to put behind you.  Ada says that it is not right, or proper, to be controlled by your spirited desires. Although, I find that hard to swallow, hard to marry with the essence of who we are.  Maybe ruling, and politics, possibly even battle, is easier or more defined when one can think logically and calculatedly around it...but love...and a mate? No, I am afraid it is something I cannot think logically about. I want to feel it, I am too curious and too bold for my own good. Yes there is a difference between love and passion, but unless you feel it how can you know for sure? I do not believe I know for sure myself. What I do know is simple...the heart wants what it wants.  It feels right, it feels proper, and if it is a mistake or if I am being too hasty then so be it. I would rather risk it all than go on with regrets for the sake of opinion, besides when did I ever care for opinions? Seems pointless to break the habit of a lifetime now.

A slow smirk spreads across my lips, as I consider the uproar of my decision - taking an elleth of unknown origin as a wife - the council will be scandalised! Adar will probably not be able to look at me for a week straight - maybe a month if he is particularly difficult. Oh, and the neighbours...what will those haughty Noldor war mongers think? Ha...very little I'd imagine, or at the very least they might pass on a congratulatory note. As for Adar's Sindar acquaintances...well...if I am not already a black mark on their ever so spotless names, I surely will be now. Although it is not like she has even consented to pledge herself to me yet, nor is she even aware of my intent...this could backfire?

Hmm, perhaps you should calm yourself Thranduil, and just focus on actually asking her first! Because we all know how terribly eloquent you are with these sorts of things...note - do not threaten to hit someone again, that is not an attractive trait.

"Whomever you are arguing with, may I suggest that you go easy on them, it is not always their fault for being so unreasonable."

I twist my scowling expression towards the intruder, my eyes widening slightly at how easy Aradan picked up on my inner monologue. My ever jovial friend has his blonde head poked through the green fabric, grinning idiotically at me for added patronising effect.

"Oh do you shut up Aradan, I was enjoying my self loathing," I dead pan, only giving away a slight twitch of my lip to alert him to my jesting.

"You always had strange pastimes mellon nin," he sighs and slides in beside me, nosily shoving his regrettably large head in front of my line of vision. "What are you ogling from here? You do know this is a tad stalker-like...I mean I know you love your hunting, but guests are not practice targets dear Prince."

"Never use the sentiment dear in relation to me again," I grumble and cross my arms about my chest. "And, I was not stalking I wa-"

"Aw, you were shamelessly lusting over your lady love," Aradan grins and waggles his eyebrows in the most absurd fashion. "Pity you cannot be more open about your affections, I would rather enjoy watching that Lindon elleth's face change at the sight of you dancing with our lovely Clara again. Although, I am not certain she has many expressions other than, mildly disgusted and bored witless."

"You will find many Lindon elleth have alarmingly limited expressions, I assume it's their lack of intelligence," I reply nonchalantly, nodding my agreements with Aradan's assessments.

"Oh, ouch, someone is feeling spiteful?" Aradan sniggers and tosses me a faux warning look. "I thought we were taking the high road - the past is in the past and all that?"

"What can I say, I hold grudges," I reply with a lazy shrug, before eyeing my overly concerned friend with a new curiosity, "did Clara send you to calm my frayed nerves?"

"Actually no, but I spied her give Ollie those worried eyes of hers and then Ollie glared at me until I figured it out on my own," Aradan admitted sheepishly, chancing a peek my direction. "That was rough mellon nin, I heard the parting sentiments two tables back."

"I am fine, I just had a fleeting flashback," I answer dismissively whilst maintaining a false sense of control...I'm not fine but I would rather not think about it.

"Maybe you should retire for the evening Thranduil," Aradan murmurs, his tone suddenly serious as the joking nature leaves him. "You need to give yourself a moment to recover from those attacks, you know it leaves you volatile."

"I am not going to hurt anyone," I half growl in my exasperation but I am only met with a pair of understanding eyes.

"You have never hurt anyone mellon nin, but you have hurt yourself," he reminds with much feeling, so much so that I cannot argue. I simply refuse to look at him. "But," he continues, holding his hand up peacefully, "if you think you are well then by all means enjoy the evening."

"I will," I snort dismissively and suppress a further scowl, after all he is only trying to be helpful - as usual.

A moment of tense silence passes...mostly on my part...and I glare indignantly at the happy couples all swirling around the Hall. All completely unaware of how fortunate they are not to have certain constraints laid upon them, for loving freely is fine among equals but not among Kings. Love is a curse - that is what Adar recalls, and I loathe him for it. He thinks love selfish and the cause of much pain. He still darkly condemns his love of my mother as the reason for her slow decay. I know he blames himself, but I find that heinous and a terrible crime, for I have only known my parents to be fiercely loyal and bonded to one another. Yet part of me wonders, did my father drive her away? Was his ambitions too much? I do not know why Naneth left, but I know she would never say it was her lack of love for my father. She has vowed on many occasions, that Oropher was her fate and she would change nothing...she would still always choose him and this life. But she still left, and oh how I miss her! Her guidance would have been well received right now, she would have explained the best way for me to go about this. For how do I propose to Clara without dragging her into a world that could change her? And how exactly do I make my bitter Adar see this is a wise choice for me - not for politics or ambition - but for me and for Legolas?

Ai...this is giving me a headache...I need more wine.

"Word of advice my lord," Aradan quietly interjects my thoughtfulness, and places a hand on my shoulder. "If your heart and mind are clear, then do not waste time dithering over how best to introduce her. Your father will accept it in time, everyone will, but stop hiding...it's cowardly."

"Are you telling me what to do?" I ask in disbelief, my right eyebrow twitching upwards at his tone. "That is bold, even for you."

"Apologies my lord, but if it is any consolation, I am speaking on behalf of our people...hurry up and present Clara as your soon to be bride, or we all risk being subjected to more Ithril...no-one wants THAT!"

I turn fully to appraise an appalled Aradan - he really does look disgusted at the thought - and then I break out into a hearty laugh, which seems to radiate from the depths of my chest. My old friend begins to chuckle too, as the two of us embrace warmly.

"You have my word mellon nin, I will not subject any of you to another nightmarish Lindon lady," I promise boldly and twist away to gesture to Clara, who is all flailing limbs and musical laughter in the midst of the dancing crowd. "I am in love with another."

"Yes, and she is utterly in love with her life and the people here Thranduil," Aradan wisely adds, smiling fondly in Clara's direction. "You cannot go wrong with that."

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