Disclaimer: The LOTR trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien while Darcy Lewis character is owned by Marvel. I am not profiting in any way by writing this story besides having immense amounts of fun while doing so.

Sliding fresh batch of cream filled pastries Darcy wasn't sure if she wanted to beat the impromptu congregation of insipid cheerfulness that took over the corner of the shop with the baking sheet or simply snarl at them. With each high pitched exclamation or remark her eyelid twitched becoming the only visible indication of her annoyance and a testament to her self restrain. Snapping while a tempting option was bad for business therefore she had to settle for inner commentary.

"I've heard the dwarves are already working on the jewellery sparing no expense." the young girl delivered in a tone that had more in common with a slaughtered pig than the air of hushed confidences "Gold and silver is flowing to the city like a river together with the baskets of amber, coral and pearls from the coast."

"Pish" the taller one with freckles scowled dismissively. If Darcy was in a charitable mood she would applaud the common sense but she was not therefore she noted, with a small amount of ill fitted glee, that the grimace diminished what little beauty the speaker had "the most you'll see from that is a leaf wrought in brass. My brother told me Rohirrim equestrians will arrive and deliver a show that of which has not yet been seen in Gondor. That is why men are hauling threes to the plains - to build an arena."

"Not so." the one with her back to Darcy contradicted "It's for the stage for the troupes and troubadours that are going to perform throughout the night. They even say elves might descend from the castle to play and sing among the people. To hear one!"she exclaimed with eyes closed and a dreamy face.

"Pigs will fly before that will happen." The sarcastic one interjected nipping the foolish discussion in a bud. The first children didn't care for human celebrations. "But I'll agree there might be dances and plays planned for the whole night. The inn owner that used to live next to us said the city had to order beer from the neighbouring villages."

"Oh la. I am so lucky Cirion returned with the last trip and is not yet due to board ship."

"Really?" the quiet one interrupted with interest "Do you think he will mind if I join your company for the evening?"

"Have you met my brother?" she eyed her friend skeptically teasing the innocent soul before adding with a cunning glint. "He won't and even if he tried… mom and I will make sure he will come to our way of thinking."

"You're a life saver! What would I do without you!?"

"Spent the night sleeping in your home most likely."

Carelessly dropping final pieces on the shelf to the accompaniment of the merry laugh, Darcy lost the desire to eavesdrop. Dropping the tin to the side she considered retreating behind the curtain but the vision of the oppressive heat reigning in the back room put her off the idea. Instead she leaned the utensil on the counter before escaping through the main door.

Much better. She took a generous breath that smelled of freshly baked bread and new blossoms that prompted her to meander around in search of elusive flowers that have been cropping steadily since the winter left. Spying bold daffodils and alluring hyacinths she was won over by the clusters of sapphire crocuses that spread over the beds like some sort of magical aqueduct.

Gazing longingly at the women perching on the fountain rim she pressed a fist to her lower back hoping to discreetly rub some of the discomfort away. While sitting down preferably with a cold compress on her neck would do her a world of good she wasn't quite certain if the makeshift contraption she fashioned out of some rags and dried moss would survive that much of movement.

Still, it was a better solution than the one suggested to her in the beginning. Put on the red petticoats to hide the stains, strap on the pouch of sweet-smelling herbs around the waist to neutralise the odour and hope no one will look at your feet and note the scarlet droplets you leave at your wake. How charming, she snorted.

On the other hand the red petticoats would be very useful just about now, she tried to ignore the hollow ache that settled in her thighs, as if the gravity decided to fix her to the ground, while pondering how to tactfully pat her back in check of spots. Hmm…

"How fortuitous that we meet Lady Darcy." she jumped startled out of her musings by the lively greetings. Turning to the side she regarded Legolas from top to bottom, her improved mood vanishing as she marked his pristine state, neither a hair out of line, nor a crease marring his shirt, while she felt blotched, uncomfortable, unattractive. Ugly. If there was a day when she didn't want to meet him more than today, she couldn't think of one.

"Don't you have any other tunics?" she cocked her head to the side tone sharp.

Stiffening he frowned, hesitant note entering his voice "What's wrong with this one?"

"It's green." she deadpanned.

"I happen to like the colour."

"OK." she shrugged, the silence stretching between them awkwardly until Legolas tried again.

"Are you preparing for the festival?"

"What?" She threw him a blank look for which he answered indicating the flower she was scenting but a minute ago. Of course … he meant the spring flower festivities that the whole city was talking about… has been talking about for the last week; attractions, performers, best places to get ribbons or to accessorize.

"Don't you want to be a Lothron* queen?" he picked the sapphire bell fastening it behind her ear "With that you'll certainly win." he assured with a soft smile that brightened his baby blue eyes.

"Thanks but no." she removed the foolish addition crumpling it in her hand "No amount of adornments, not even a make over session with Trinny and Susannah would help that cause. Regardless. I'm not going."

"Why ever not?" he asked surprised. Every girl in the city was talking, breathing, living the Lotron festival. He himself secretly hoped he will be able to steal a dance or two from Darcy.

"I don't know. Maybe because I have to bake hundreds of almond filled pastries same day and will be dead tired before the party even starts. Or because I don't have anything suitable to wear. Or I can't dance." she said louder and louder "And wait" she put a finger in the air "for my favourite. I don't have a father, brother, cousin, uncle or any other distant male relative that will play a chaperon. Men here are so poorly brought up they mistake alone for available and interested. So no, thank you very much, but I am not going." she vehemently declared turning on the heel, disappearing inside.

Stunned, Legolas was rooted to the spot - what just happened?

*Lothron - May or flower month in Númenórean calendar (used by men including Dúnedain - they used sindarin version). In medieval England it was common to have festivals once a month and in May a queen of May was chosen and villagers danced around the maypole.

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