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Lhunerin brought up another tray of dainty treats, delicately wrapped in an assortment of colored tissues. “Keep these cool, now, dear. They’ll melt if they get too warm,” she advised Celebdreth.

“Yes, Gran-nan.” Celebdreth peered into the box that Lhunerin was arranging the truffles in. “What are those?” he asked, looking at the strips of parchment with various puffed candies attached to them.

“That is actually a special kind of frosting,” she explained. “It can be piped into all sorts of shapes. I made them with strings attached at the top so that they can be hung on the tree and eaten later. Keep them up high, though, or else Haldir’s wolf might decide to snag a few of them.”

Galadhon came inside to retrieve the final box once Lhunerin had placed all of the treats into it. “There’s a very heavy box on the floor of the carriage,” he warned. “It’s not all candy, either. There are a few pounds of chocolate, and a new shelf for the wall that Celebrian described to me. Take care with it,” he added as he headed back out to where his workshop was.

“I suppose we should go, then. We still need to pick up Melpomaen and Glorcheniel from Ecthelion’s house, along with whatever it is that Galadriel requested,” said Lindir. They thanked Lhunerin for the candy once more, and were each given two small paper sacks.

“Take some things for the trip home, and make up bags for your friends, too, dears,” requested Lhunerin, giving them both a pat on the cheek. “I have to tend to the fudge, so a safe journey if I do not return before you go.”

- - -

“I wonder what they look like.” Glorcheniel felt every inch of the first package, and then did the same for the second one. “I suppose we shall have to wait until we get back home. I should have read Galadriel’s message to Gaileth before I surrendered it,” she said with a smirk.

“I am sure we will learn when we get home, or soon enough,” assured Melpomaen. He was carefully carrying a wooden crate containing four bottles of some sort of liquor that Ecthelion had decided to make at home and wanted to share with his seaside friends.

Celebdreth motioned that everyone should climb aboard the carriage. “We can still make it to the King’s Kastle by early afternoon if we hurry and have no delays.” Everyone loaded into the coach, squishing into the space that was left now that they had packed in everything that had been requested. Indeed, Haldir had been right that three was plenty to manage this task, and with Lindir along the carriage was crowded. Still, they talked merrily among themselves as they traveled along.

“Ooo, what are these?” asked Glorcheniel, pulling out a square candy with a shimmering wrapper from her bag.

“Apple taffies,” said Celebdreth, breaking off a chunk of peppermint bark from the candy that he had filled his bag with. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I put in a little bit of everything.”

Melpomaen was enjoying his bag of lemon drops and cherry sours when he glanced over and took note of the droopy eyed expression that Lindir was wearing. “Are you alright, Lindir? You look a little tired.”

“Hmm? Mmm. Nope.” He fished around in his bag of candy and pulled out another small chocolate and popped it into his mouth with a satisfied smile.

Celebdreth chuckled a little. “I told him not to eat more than a few at a time. Gran-nan’s liqueurs are extremely potent.”

“Potent but de-licious,” Lindir added with a sloppy grin.

- - -

There was little to pick up at the King’s Kastle- the ale would be brought later, as would the wine, but there were a few small items that Thranduil instructed one of the bartender’s to retrieve while he waited at the counter and conversed with the four travelers. “Anything of interest going on in Valimar?” he asked as he idly wiped the counter.

“Not really. The stationary shop has a few new colors of ink, that seemed to excite a fair number. Other than that, it was all very much the same,” replied Celebdreth. He had hoped to leave Lindir in the carriage, considering how tipsy he had become simply from eating the intoxicating sweets. Things had needed to be rearranged, so Celebdreth instead left Melpomaen and Glorcheniel to that task while he led Lindir into the bar. In hindsight, it was probably not the best of places to take the drunken minstrel.

“M’lord,” interrupted the floor server, “I have an order for those tables there; twelve pints and I have others waiting. Would you be able to-“

“Take care of the others; I’ll get the ales.” Thranduil pulled a dozen mugs from the storage shelves below and lined them up along the counter. He could hold three in each hand, and the kegs were rigged with a lever on the floor to be stepped on to make the drink flow. He expediently filled the first six mugs and then set them on the counter. Picking up the other six, he turned back to the barrel and began the second half of his task.

Lindir eyed up the pints with delight, and before he could be stopped by Celebdreth, drank down one-half of each of the pints on the counter before him. Wanting to groan, Celebdreth instead tried to look as casual as possible when Thranduil turned back around.

Shock was written all over the king’s face. “Must be a lot of foam in this one,” he mused to himself as he set the fresh mugs of beer on the counter. He gathered the half-empty ones and went back to the barrel again.

It amazed Celebdreth twofold in watching Lindir do the same with the next batch. First, even while imbibing the liquor, Lindir was as quiet as a mouse. Not one of the mugs hit the counter with a thud- it was as if he were setting each one down upon a pillow. Second, he had an amazing ability to drink very fast. When Thranduil returned again, the mugs were lined up, and half-drained of their contents. “This is ridiculous,” he growled, setting down the mugs and turning back to take a look at the barrel in frustration.

Lindir immediately grabbed hold of one of the filled mugs- but his eyes caught something else. Perched upon Thranduil’s head was a crowd of leaves, very much as he always wore. One hand reached out to touch the red berries, and Celebdreth slapped away Lindir’s hand. With a pout on his face, Lindir strained to reach a little further with both hands now, but Celebdreth decided this was more than enough and settled a hand on Lindir’s shoulder to keep him steady and away from his goal.

“This thing is such a headache to change,” mumbled Thranduil as he began to unhook the barrel from the contraption it was set in. He tilted his head back to be sure nothing would get caught on the higher shelves, which is what caused his crown to slip from his head and land atop the counter beside the mugs.

With eyes as huge as saucers, Lindir snatched the crown and put it on his head. Celebdreth made an attempt to wrestle it away, but the minstrel stumbled back and ran out of the hall. Celebdreth glanced from the crownless king to the counter. Lindir had managed to grab a mug of beer on his way out. Cursing to himself, Celebdreth picked up a mug, drank down the contents, and rushed out the door while Thranduil, unknowing of any of these happenings, continued to try to find a solution to his problem.

- - -

“The more bizarre things get, the more sense they seem to make,” Elrond said as he helped himself to another glass of eggnog. “Lindir, I am surprised you even managed to keep a beat while we practiced.”

“It was the beat of the pounding in my head,” admitted the minstrel.

Celebdreth settled on the couch next to his wife and snuggled next to her. “I still feel bad that we did not know there was a separate group for the tree.”

“And you should be!” declared Elodien. “Why, if not for Legolas-“

“Oh, Legolas, you’re my hero!” squeaked Orophin in a falsetto, to the amusement of many.

Legolas simply smirked. “I’m everyone’s hero.”

“Not likely. You ran from a balrog,” taunted Orophin playfully. “Show of hands, who else here has run from a balrog?” Erestor began to raise his, but Orophin waved that he should put it down. “That was a first age balrog; no excuse to run from a third age one.”

“I wasn’t running; I was fleeing. There’s a world of difference,” declared Legolas. “Besides, I was the one who came to the rescue of these four dear ladies,” he said, motioning to the members of the tree committee. “Why, if not for me, these ladies might still be in peril!”

“Count of three,” instructed Orophin, “an adoring sigh for Legolas the tree killer. One, two, and... swoon.” The four ladies, and Orophin of course, all cooed and batted their lashes at Legolas, and generally caused a great deal of laughter in the room.

“Alright, then,” called Glorfindel, who had removed the pink frilly apron when he had last gone to the kitchen for another platter of cookies, “describe these deeds of valor, o glorious Sir Legolas, killer of trees of Valinor.”

“Indeed, I shall,” he announced. “Last month, when I first pulled my assignment-“
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