"Why don't the elves in Mirkwood have to wear dresses?" Orophin asked Celeborn, the two of them smiling broadly as the delegation approached on horseback. Though the elleths were clad in long skirts and dresses, the elves wore pants and high collared jerkins in varying shades of green, blue, and gold.
" Because elves in Mirkwood," answered Celeborn, "are not as secure in their masculinity as we are to wear dresses. Robes. To wear robes,” he corrected himself.
Orophin looked hopefully at his father. “I’m not at all secure with my masculinity. Can I move to Mirkwood and wear pants?”
“No.” Celeborn sighed and tried another approach. “Besides, most Mirkwood elves look like girls already. They have to make the males wear pants so that the rest of us can tell all of them apart.”
“I am so telling King Thranduil you said that,” threatened Orophin through smiling teeth.
“Go ahead.” Celeborn lifted his hand in greeting as the first of the riders lifted his own. “He’ll never believe a word you say. No one does. You reputation quite precedes you.”
“So true. I’ll get Haldir to tell him, then. Or Rumil.” Neither of these seemed to faze Celeborn, so Orophin huffed and returned to smiling. A moment later, he quirked a brow and gave his father a sidelong glance. "So, if Legolas wore a dress, he'd be an elf in drag, but when we wear them, we're just elves in dresses."
"If you like, that about sums it up."
Resisting the urge to hang his head, Orophin smiled painfully wider. "Everybody hates me."
“No. Just the select few who love you so,” Celeborn corrected him. “The rest just think you very odd.”
There was no more time for further talk as the delegation pulled in their reigns and dismounted. The head of the group, to Orophin’s surprise, was not King Thranduil. The king was, in fact, nowhere to be seen. It was also not either of the king’s sons, even though he did see Legolas (NOT wearing a dress, he noted) walking toward him. Instead, a rather serious looking elf briskly, yet elegantly, walked to Celeborn and exchanged greetings and plesentries with him. Orophin could make out only the name of this lead negotiator – Lord Thaladir, King Thranduil’s Seneschal – before he was ambushed by Prince Legolas.
"Lovely dress," Legolas told Orophin after the two of them greeted each other.
"Did Haldir tell you to say that, or Rumil?" asked Orophin, still retaining his fake grin. He should have realized the delegation would take the path that would lead them across the Northern Fences.
"Both." Legolas grinned wider. “Although, Rumil took some sort of extra perverse pleasure in it.”
Orophin tilted his head to the side. “I must wonder how they knew of it.” He looked down at the dark blue material that swept across the ground. “It was hidden from me until a few hours ago.”
“They probably have a network of spies set up in the city to note and record all movement of the citizens,” suggested Legolas with a wink.
“A network of spies…that’s not a bad idea…” mused Orophin.
Horses were taken by the grooms and the party was shown to the Great Mallorn for the beginning of the negotiations. As introductions were made, a server rounded the table, pouring glasses of sweat water into goblets set in front of the participants. Orophin couldn’t help wonder if the water was contaminated or not as he lifted the glass to his lips. After a moment of contemplation, he set the goblet back down, not wanting to risk it.
Just over an hour into the discussion and Orophin already found himself bored. Not because of the speeches being made – though, the lengthy explanations regarding trade and the economy of the realms would have made him yawn on most occasions – but because he had already figured out a reasonable solution to the issues that were to be discussed, and would not have a chance to voice his own opinions until the entire Mirkwood delegation was through with their various lists of concerns and suggestions. The lead elf – Thaladir – was fifty minutes into his and did not show signs of stopping anytime soon. Unlike the other elves around the table, he had no notes and no lists. All of his arguments were spoken, and he had either practiced well ahead of time or knew the material well enough not to. Orophin was in awe of his ability to sit, perfectly still, hands folded before him, and flawlessly deliver his speech without pause or repetition. A sudden knock upon the door thankfully stopped the Mirkwood Seneschal from continuing.
The door was hesitantly pushed open slightly.
"My lord?"
Celeborn took note of the page standing at the door and beckoned him to enter. "My lord, Commander Valarda wishes to speak with you, regarding the state of the Southern border." Celeborn nodded to the page before turning to the delegation. "If you would excuse me for a moment, I shall have my Commander give her report." Security was not an issue Celeborn felt ill discussing in front of the elves of Mirkwood. Both realms would help to defend one another if the need arose, and neither had reason nor want to attack the other. Thaladir and Legolas both nodded at the request.
"Lord Celeborn." Valarda stood at attention, giving a run down of the events on the border. If Orophin could have slumped down in his chair, he would have, but his height made such an attempt to hide futile. "...and currently, we have four wardens injured, including my head lieutenant. Captain Haldir's troops were able to provide us with reinforcements, but we are spread thin along the perimeter. The Northern side is less seven wardens, though only one was critically wounded. We are expecting full recovery of everyone, but a total of eleven are in the healing tree right now." Orophin cringed at the news. Much as he wished to offer to return to the borders now, he held his tongue.
“Thank you, commander.” Celeborn addressed the council now, and Orophin focused everything on paying attention to his father and not to his wife’s amused looks as she stood near the head of the table. “If you will excuse me, I need look in on the injured Galadhrim. I will be but a few minutes. Orophin.” Orophin made to stand up at first, but he stopped when his father added, “Please, entertain our guests until I have returned. I shall have more refreshments sent up at once.” Celeborn left the room swiftly.
Valarda lingered, taking two steps toward Orophin’s place. Orophin rolled his eyes as she stood and waited expectantly. Quickly, he made the saddest possible salute in the history of the Galadhrim, placing his hand over his heart, and quickly pretending it was there because of an itch he had to scratch. “Good day. Lieutenant,” Valarda said, and there was no mistake now that she was addressing him. Orophin smiled and gave a slight nod, much to the amusement of most of the Mirkwood delegation.
“Nice dress,” she commented.
Orophin gave her a curt nod and a glare. Apparently, Haldir and Rumil had wasted no time in spreading rumors about his situation to the rest of the Galadhrim.
Valarda smirked and walked up to him, bending slightly to better address him, though there would be no privacy no matter how low she spoke. “I shall stay in our tree here in the city this eve.” Valarda patted Orophin on the cheek, but turned once again before she passed, eyeing him up with amusement. “Wear the dress,” she instructed. She gave Legolas a pat on the shoulder as she came to him, and exited out the back way.
Thaladir watched the elleth walk by with little emotion on his face. “She outranks you,” he said with great indifference to Orophin.
“Yes. Yes, she does,” Orophin replied. “She’s my wife.” A number of the members of the Mirkwood party snickered, including all of the married elves and ellith.
“A border guard as well. In full uniform.” Thaladir picked up his goblet of water.
“Well, they don’t let us guard the border naked,” answered Orophin without missing a beat.
Thaladir considered the words. “How very interesting.” He sipped his water before placing the goblet back in its place.
"I follow my father's example," continued Orophin, "in letting my wife wear the pants in the family."
Thaladir sat perfectly still, showing no sign of emotion. Orophin knew his next comment was not going to win him any points, but by the Valar, he was going to make that elf laugh.
"Me," he added, "I'm not even wearing any pants."
He thought he saw Thaladir's brow twitch, but even that wasn't enough for him.
“In fact,” he continued, “Lord Celeborn – he’s not wearing any either.”
“Any what, Orophin?” Orophin nearly jumped from his seat when he heard his father’s voice. Orophin paled, saying nothing to his father’s blank stare.
“Any pants,” Thaladir answered for Orophin. “He says you’re not wearing any pants, my lord.”
Celeborn laughed deeply. “Why would you say such a thing, Orophin? Of course I’m wearing pants.” Celeborn shook his head at the comment, brushing it aside as if Orophin was but a small elfling having invaded his father’s study during important business. “As it turns out, some of the wardens are quite seriously injured. I will be needed to tend to some of them myself, and will also need Orophin’s assistance, so I am sad to say we shall have to adjourn until tomorrow.”
“May we offer to you our assistance in any way possible?” Thaladir spoke in earnest for the rest of the delegation, and Celeborn nodded.
“Orophin can show you the way and the healers will instruct you on what is to be done. Orophin?” Celeborn expected that his son would stand and help lead the delegation to the healing tree, but Orophin had a confused look on his face.
“Show us then.” Orophin insisted.
“Show you what, the injured?” Celeborn motioned to the doorway. “They are in the healing tree, we shall go to them now.”
“No, no. Show us. Show us that you are wearing pants. Because I was under the impression that you were not wearing any pants.”
Celeborn blinked, and then closed his eyes, remembering the conversation he had had with Orophin earlier. “Very well then.” He lifted up the hem of his robes just slightly. Underneath, the cuffs of his pants could be seen.
Orophin threw his arms into the air. “Well, that’s just fine. And here, I thought I wasn’t supposed to wear any,” he sulked slightly.
“Show us then.” Everyone turned their attention with surprise to the Mirkwood Prince, whose look of amusement was unsuccessfully being masked by his folded hands, which rested upon the table by his elbows. Thaladir sighed, having picked out at least a dozen transgressions in the position and actions of the prince, the lord, and the lieutenant in the last ten seconds.
“Go on. Show us,” pressed Legolas.
Orophin smirked. “Very well then.” He hiked up his robes to reveal barely his ankle. He placed one hand to his mouth in a demure posture and batted his lashes like a blushing maiden as laughter filled the room from the members of the delegation and his father.
All of the members.
All of the members - save for one.
Lord Orophin by Zhie