The Feasting Hall was comparatively quiet tonight, Thranduil thought, waiting for Parvon to see he was ready to sweep to his seat. Ness was standing behind the chair to the left of his throne, Legolas and Govon to his right. Beyond them, Merlinith and Araspen, while Ness had for her neighbours Masters Merenor and Hanben. True to her word, Nestoril was out of uniform, wearing a deep green gown that set off her hair and which made the floral brooch pinned to her collar appear much brighter than when seen against the blue of her habit.

Finally he was noticed, announced, and reached his place, taking a moment to murmur in her ear.

'Looking good tonight, Ness. Every night, in fact.'

But then he had to recede, to allow the Elvenking to the fore to make the toast, address the people, summon the feast.

It was hardly a formal meal though, and he was able to unbend and ask Legolas about his day, to listen with slightly horrified interest in Merenor's scheme for official bunting for use at weddings, and to learn that Araspen and Merlinith had finally decided to put paid to Araspen's naneth's hopes that it was just a phase her daughter was going through and would marry on the same day that Legolas and Govon had taken their vows.

'In Master Hanben's new Wedding Garden, too, if it is ready,' Merlinith said.

'But you are family,' Thranduil protested mildly. 'The Sacred Grove is open to you, should you wish it...'

'Oh, thank you, but...'

'Why not, Araspen?' Legolas asked.

'Because my mother would love it,' she said. 'Although... since I am not marrying a person of her choosing... perhaps she might not... Oh, but Master Hanben's garden sounds wonderful...'

Merenor leaned forward to speak across half the table.

'Then have your party in the garden and your wedding in the Grove; it will be lovely...'

Thranduil sat back and allowed the conversations to flow on around him. Time passed until finally, the meal was done, the wine had gone round, and he held out his hand to Nestoril.

'Coming, Ness?'

She nodded and rose to follow him, and nobody watching would have guessed at the pain of his losses, his two sons and his grandson, or his fears for the future, for he kept his grief buried deep along with his anxieties for the future, tempered and softened by the elleth whose hand rested so warm in his, kept it all buried and hidden deep.

Where it doesn't show.

– The End –

Many thanks to everyone who has followed this story which has been almost two years in the making. Other stories in the sequence will follow in due course.