Part Sixty-two
When the Sun set over the river, the Elves put away their work, changed their work clothes for those of leisure, washed their hands and faces and let down their hair. Many silver lanterns were lit and hung in the high, graceful pointed arches that Elves favored in their structures. This was the time of day when it would be most usual for the youthful Elves of the Silver Wood to go out and meet with those friends that lived in other households, but tonight they knew they would meet and feast.
They chose the finest of their winter leisure clothes and as the night air and lack of labor chilled them, they donned richly embroidered jackets and cloaks. Elves were great cultivators of cotton and flax, though they used fibers from other plants to craft functional items and work clothing, such as the fibers used to make cordage and sailcloth, and their leisure clothing was most often very fine woven cotton or linen with velvet garments worn layered over, when warmth was needed. Sometimes they coaxed silk from worms in the trees and so wove it into fabric, but as it was more difficult to obtain, many young Elves who had silk garments had inherited these from others who had collected them in their long years, and took as much care with them as they took joy in wearing them.
They loved jewels also and so wore these at their leisure. They did not feel ears needed decoration, and rings were customarily worn only as tokens of office, house, or bond, but they loved brooches and pins and jeweled ornaments for the hair and also charms that could be strung about slender Elven necks or wrists, or in warm seasons, ankles.
A few Elves were late in finishing work, as they labored to finish arranging the pavilion for the feast; the tables were set with silver, glass, crystal and finest pottery and many lanterns hung in the archways. Those who buried the dead had recently finished their work, and a lantern still glowed on its post, above the pair of newly built cairns, for those who wished to speak a prayer or farewell for Rosenrod and Gildenmund.
Denelas made his way to the graves after changing his clothes. When he came to the slender birch the two Elves had planted together, he saw Loriol was already there; he had hoped to find him. Denelas walked to Loriol's side and then stopped. "I am sorry," he said, "I feel I spoke inappropriately to you, earlier today."
"I am certain it was only out of concern."
Denelas took a step toward the graves, but only so that he might turn and look at Loriol in the light. "You love Lain. I thought that you did, but now I can see...you have given your heart to someone. It is Lain. You can tell me."
It was true Denelas had long been his friend, so Loriol did not feel he had to keep the secret, but he did feel uneasy admitting such a thing. "Yes." He turned his face so that Denelas would not look in his eyes.
"You do not have to look away from anyone, Loriol. No Elf can help that they give their heart away, it is simply given, and no one need know who holds your heart, only that it is another. I knew that it would be this way for you."
"Knew? What way do you speak of?"
"Loriol, I am your friend." When Denelas said it, Loriol could sense that he was sincere, and he felt at ease.
"You came here to look for me?"
"Rosenrod was the Elf you first shared yourself with."
"He was."
"He and Gildenmund were fast friends. They enjoyed running along branches together, fishing together, tending trees together. They were sparring partners, and in real battle would have given their lives for each other. They bathed together, and shared pleasure with each other."
"Yes. All of that was plain to see. You and I were so."
"Yes, but Gildenmund and Rosenrod would never have taken wives and found joy in sending their children to play at the other's house or made vows to their friend's wife to bring him home from war, even if he had to face the Dark Lord only to collect a body. I would have done those things with you, if you wanted it. I sensed that you were not this way, and that is why I suggested we not share ourselves with each other. I still find you pleasing, but I did not wish to lead you along some deceptive path of temptation or regret. I thought it best to encourage you to find one that could be as Gildenmund was to Rosenrod. They were in love. I do not know that everyone knew of this, but I know that I was not the only one to know. I have seen you with Lain lately, and spoke to you earlier, because I suspected you did love him. Now, I am certain, and so I feel it is the right time to say these things to you. I desire your friendship still, Loriol, and I feel you have been distant from me of late. When I marry and have children, I would send them to your house to learn from you and hear your songs. If you and I were to go into some danger, I would vow to whomever you had devoted yourself to return you to them. If you wish only to be with Lain, that is well enough, and I shall be happy for you, but if you will have me as a friend, I would be happy for us both."
Loriol was moved by Denelas's words and when he saw that Denelas had said all he meant to say, Loriol embraced him in fiercest friendship, saying, "I remain your friend." Denelas returned this warm embrace and then, when they parted from each other, Loriol said, "Return here with me in spring, and we shall plant flowers here for them."
"Of course. We should now celebrate them, as they are together in Blessed Realms. I invite you to sit beside me at the feast, though you may of course invite any other to sit at your opposite side."
Loriol smiled. "I shall sit beside you, if Lain has not already given promises to others on my behalf."
Denelas worried that even being fond of Loriol, Lain's kin would encourage him to marry and conceive children, but he did not mention this to Loriol. He wished to watch and see what would come to pass, as Loriol seemed happy now. Whatever became of Loriol's relationship with Lain, Denelas would remain his friend. They had many years before Lain might be expected to seek a wife. Denelas was older than Loriol by some few years and though he was of an age for marriage, he had not yet felt pressure from his peers to seek his mate.
"Do you think they died together?" Loriol asked softly as they walked toward the feasting pavilion.
"I do not know what the attack upon them was like, and the bodies
seemed moved from the place they had fallen, but from what I saw there,
I believe they must have decided together to abandon their bodies, as
the wounds were more than they could bear to survive. Yes, their last
moments were together."
"It would have been even more tragic if only one returned to us,
though it seems strange to say two Elves should be lost rather than only
one."
"Better for them to know they would be together and for us to consider that. In their case, if one had died, the other might have later died of heartache, even if they survived the day to bring us news. I saw the wounds; that was not possible for them."
The tables and cushioned benches of the Feasting Hall were filling as Denelas and Loriol arrived. Each household that arrived brought the portion of the food they had prepared and the atmosphere was most festive, with the scent of warm food and fragrant garlands and lantern light reflected off jewelry and tableware.
Two couches had been brought forth so that those who were injured might join in the celebration and Galadhiel already lay upon one. She was still in pain and quite fatigued, but she managed to lay with her head and shoulders propped upon bolsters and even to wear a fine gown. The Elves had found a pretty blanket to keep her warm and a healer-in-training sat nearby to assist her.
The second couch was yet unoccupied. The Pavilion was near full; Gwindor, Lenaduiniel, Beryl and the Kin of Rosenrod and Gildenmund had been give seats of honor at the centermost of the long rectangular tables lined along three sides of the pavilion. Lain had invited Dale to sit beside him, and Dale had accepted, so when Loriol arrived with Denelas, they sat also near to Dale, and to Tsuki. Tsuki put Laurel and then Fei beside him, and elsewhere, a tall chair had been set close to Beryl so that Kato might reach the Elven-sized table. The Brothers Gibson also had been provided seats at one of the end tables, where empty seats awaited Duma and Ugarit, but no Orcs had arrived.
Those Elves who had had the greatest part in setting the tables for the
feast began to feel anxious. So far as they knew, no Elves had ever invited
Orcs to a feast before, and in all Orc feasts they heard tale of, Elf
might be the main course.
"Where are these Orcs everyone has been speaking of today?"
Caratathren asked. She had not gone to the guest house, like the younger
Elves, but kept to her work.
"These are not the most usual Orcs. I suppose them to be struggling with the weighty decision of what is to be worn."
"Shall I ask your Dale to go fetch them?" Caratathren asked, arranging her mantle so as to cover her bosom.
"If Beryl goes, the festivities are certain to wait for his return, and I suppose him to know better than Dale what is acceptable attire to Elves, and to be just as skilled with a needle, though..." Kato looked past Beryl, Caratathren, and several others to regard Dale, some distance to his left, "It seems Dale knows well how to appear an Elf, when he is not trying to send travelers fleeing from him."
Beryl found that the Orcs were, as he had expected, laboring with their attire. Ugarit was shortening and hemming her kilt where it had become frayed and ragged from wear. Duma sat near the fire, half dressed and removing the left sleeve from a fine, old fashioned velvet doublet. Wood Elves in these times favored longer jackets. They had seen to dressing Tashmetum in a robe made for Elven children and someone had hastily sewn leggings, loincloth and tunic for Dog, using the fabric from donated Elven garments.
The Mine-dweller drew a knife as he noticed Beryl there. Dog was still in pain and feeling weak, but a day of sipping warm blood and Wizard-brewed broth had restored much color and semblance of life to him, even if his greenish color seemed sickly by Elven standards.
Though Ugarit sat hemming her kilt, she appeared to be fully dressed in some copy of an Elven gown stitched together from imported southerland textiles she had not surrendered to Kato. They were waiting for Duma to be finished.
"Allow me to help you with that," Beryl suggested, "they are holding the feast for us."
Duma surrendered the garment and pulled on a similarly one-sleeved shirt, which he had already modified for his use. Those Dale had made for him had been damaged and stained beyond repair.
Beryl was skillful with needle and thread and quickly finished the garment. Duma dressed and then all checked over their appearance. Their bows were to be left behind, but all secured their knives on their persons. Even Tashmetum had a dulled wooden knife and a pouch on a cord about her middle to place it in. Ugarit's gown was so transparent that the knife sheath strapped to her thigh was as visible as her undergarments; these were of her own design it seemed, to accommodate her growing form, less voluminous than those worn by women and having many metal rings and hooks, unlike the garments of female Elves.
Duma strapped his second knife to his leg, as he was not wearing his quiver. He added then some finger rings and a broach to the jewelry he most often wore. Tashmetum also had newly pierced ears adorned with small metal hoops.
Duma carried Dog on his back when they went to join the feast and Ugarit carried Tashmetum in her arms. There was a stir of conversation among the Elves as they came into sight. The noise rose as Duma put Dog on the couch. Though Duma had altered his garments, they were all of Elven make and it seemed to those at the feast he looked nearly like an Elf now. Ugarit did not appear at all like an Elf, but it interested everyone to look at her. Her gown, weaponry and undergarments, and even her sandals were not so different from things Elven females might keep on their person, only they seemed rather twisted and darkened from the Elven version, more than Duma's garments seemed. It made the Elves wonder if it was true Orcs had been Elves once. They had heard it said, but not all liked to believe or admit it might be true. The shape of her body was not so different than that of a young female Wood Elf.
The shape of her face and the bones that must be within seemed most un-Elven, and to the Elves, ugly. Yet, she was not what they expected of an Orc, because she was female and appeared lightly armored. Dog looked to be a typical Orc, and it comforted the Elves that he reclined on the couch, as even though they vastly outnumbered him, the Elves did not wish to deal with even one little Mine-dweller, if he should be hostile.
"I think we shall have to write a song about this!" Bari bellowed as Duma sat down beside him.
Denelas stood and made a short speech, introducing the guests formally and welcoming them to the Silver Wood. Then the feasting began, along with much drinking and merry making.
Lenaduiniel and Gwindor were still accustomed to the feasts of their father's hall beneath the hill and having Elves standing aside as servants. Here they could see trees and hear the night breeze on branches as they dined and if those at their table seemed to have plenty of some dish left when all had taken from the platter or bowl, one would carry the food to other tables, asking if they had also had enough. It had never seemed strange that her father lived below a mound until Lenaduiniel had taken up her diplomatic career, after her mother was gone and her father grown hard to cajole from his throne and dining tables. Other Elves disliked all manner of caves, though those of other races found it only sensible to make shelters within stone and earth.
Dale took a decanter from the table and brought it toward his goblet. "I thought you swore it off."
"No, no, My Friend, twas you who swore off Elf liquor. I can handle it quite well," Dale said, grinning.
"Ah, then go on and be merry. I will watch that you do not become too lewd."
Dale laughed, but nervously, for he could see the dark, serious expression on Tsuki's face. He knew Tsuki now well enough to know he was not really worried about Dale dancing on tables. "If I thought we were not well protected here, I would stay with the watered wine. Show some merriment yourself, Tsuki Elf-Friend! Allow me to fill your cup just once. Do not become cold, not with me."
"I will drink only the wine and a reasonable amount, trust me to stop you if I see you become too merry," Laurel promised Tsuki.
Tsuki gave a nod and offered his cup to Dale.
"You may pour for us as well," Lain said then to Dale.
Duma listened to Mori tell a story about an adventure some Dwarves had had, in which the Orcs they met did not come out favorably. Duma was certain the Dwarf made no personal offense and just thought himself telling an amusing story, but Dog was growling and hissing on the couch behind them.
One of the Elves approached their table with a platter, which still contained a fair quantity of roasted fowl. "We have had our fill at the next table, would any of you care to have more?"
It was true their platter of meat was empty, but this was because the
Orcs and Dwarves had all eaten fair share. Ugarit answered first. "It
is not so special that I should want to eat more, it tastes like everything."
"I think it is quite good!" Duma said. He saw the Elf understood Ugarit's words enough to understand she disliked the meat they had served. "I will have more." Duma took a joined side from one bird and Bari also took some of the meat, before the Elf moved to another table.
"Most strange way of eating," Ugarit said as she watched the movements between the tables. "Carrying meat to a Chieftain is one matter, but should I be like some Orc that tends a fire or doles out bread and stew? I can hunt and fight."
Duma growled. "Tending a fire is not less worthy a task than hunting or fighting. Fire is important and good, so long as an Orc is not stupid enough to carry a torch when marching upon an enemy fortification at night." Duma did know a little about battle and fighting, and he was certain Ugarit had not been in many more battles than he had, though he had to admit she had probably killed more Men.
Dog laughed from the couch, and then groaned and coughed as the laughter caused him pain. He had heard tales of Orcs being killed by Mannish archers because they carried torches. He was also beginning to find Duma more amusing than offensive. In the past he had found Duma clever and entertaining enough, but he had not liked the way Duma had climbed ranks so painlessly and without many scars. He did not make Dog feel too weak to deserve life and he did not act as if he held rank over Dog, and so he was tolerable.
"We have much of this starry food left," Ugarit said with gesture to the bowl of petal salad.
Duma thought it tasted interesting and Tashmetum had eaten handfuls of it, but no one else at their table had eaten of it. Ugarit had put a small portion before her to smell and taste, but not eaten any.
The Elves would not care who brought them food, but it might make a difference to the Orcs, and Duma expected the Dwarves expected him to send the female on the errand. She was almost his Orc. She was very, very nearly his, not that he really knew what he might do if she were his. Ugarit was not a thing to play with, use and then kill; she was precious. Duma did not expect he would feel right about taking such advantage, even with a female of another race. This meant that gaining Ugarit as an Orc meant being responsible for her protection and care. She was advantageous, but if others realized how useful and clever she really was, it would be trouble to keep her from them. Some desired her now, only knowing she was young and female.
"Ugarit, take the petal salad to other tables and offer it to the Elves. It costs much trouble to make, because it is not the season for many flowers, so do not say that you disliked it, only that we could not eat so much. And remember to speak more from your throat and nose than from your belly, so they will understand you better."
Ugarit did not object to the command. She was the one with the least food remaining on her plate. She rose from the table and handed Tashmetum to Duma, before taking the bowl of flower petals.
Ugarit walked to the other tables and offered the salad, but the Elves indicated that they had eaten their fill of it, or that they would only accept a portion of such a dish if they saw everyone else had had enough. Ugarit reached the tables where the most honored guests sat before anyone would accept the petals; she knew she had been given a seat out of the way.
Lain and Dale were not shy in asking for further portions of petal salad. Unlike the other Elves, they did not insist others were more worthy to receive an additional share of the delicacy. They took nearly all of it and then Beryl called softly to Ugarit to ask to be given the remainder. Lain said that Caratathren made a petal salad almost a good as that he remembered from childhood.
"We ate this all the time," Dale said.
"Yes! We ate this in the vale often."
"It is said to be an 'aphrodisiac'," Gwindor commented. They had been speaking in the Common Speech out of regard for the Men, but Gwindor only knew the Elven word.
"What is 'aphrodisiac'?" Kato asked.
"A food that inspires one to love," Beryl said plainly.
Lain giggled.
Dale shrugged then lifted his goblet. He felt quite inspired already.
Ugarit walked back to her seat, carrying the empty bowl and wondering about this enchanted food that caused one to love. She knew 'love'; it meant enjoying something very much and was related to such things as caring and compassion, which Orcs most often heard about from captives who cursed their cruelty. The more she listened to the conversations of other races, Ugarit was learning that love might also be a word used in place of terms for breeding, or it might refer to some specific arrangement or manner of breeding activity.
Ugarit sat beside Duma. He was telling the Dwarves some stories he had heard from the time of the war between Orcs and Dwarves and the Dwarves were saying such things as, "I fear that must be true," or "No Dwarf would ever allow that!"
Elves and some greater portion of Men would likely find these tales disturbing, but Duma, the Dwarves and even Dog seemed now to find them amusing. They traded anecdotes of insult and conflict between their races and then drank to the fact that they could sit peaceably and tell them. Duma was a strange Orc, being halfelven had nothing to do with inspiring Dwarves to like him, as historically, Dwarves and Elves did not get along much better than either did with Orcs.
Ugarit picked at the petal salad that remained on her plate. Perhaps 'love' was the something more Duma desired for himself. He spoke of wanting more than breeding or dominance; he wanted what Elves and Men were worthy of. Maybe, Ugarit thought, Duma meant love.
The petals were not much to sharpen her fangs on; they were soft and faintly bitter against her tongue and then seemed to just fall smoothly down her throat. She did not feel any more inclined to risk herself for Duma's sake, to keep from harming him, to offer herself without command, or to save his life. She felt no more inclined to do such things than she already had.
Robi told Duma how their late brother, Gib, had found Elves so attractive that other Dwarves had mocked him for it. Robi then said, now he saw so many Elves gathered together to feats and make merry, he did not find them so unattractive as before. "They are still most strange, fey creatures mind you," Robi whispered, "but they are pleasant to look at."
"Like trees?" Duma asked.
"Trees?" Mori asked loudly.
"No, Orkhelen!" Robi said; his Dwarvish accent made the name of Duma's kind sound strange, "Like jewels."
"Aye, I can see it," Duma sighed.
Some of the Elves had finished their meal and now performed various arts before the tables for the entertainment of others. Elves at the other tables laughed and cheered for the musicians and scarf jugglers.
"Could we not lure just one away from the feast and take it?" Dog asked.
Duma turned quickly and slapped Dog's leg with his flail.
Ugarit growled. Duma used that flail too often for her liking. But, Dog had not sounded smart. "We must survive this, we must not tempt them to remove their offered hospitality," Ugarit hissed.
Dog whimpered as he shifted position, for his injuries still pained him. "They will not need reason. There are more of them. They can simply kill us and then say whatever they like to those who question the absence of two Orcs."
Duma growled.
"Even the injured suffer from breed instinct when surrounded by the enemy on every side," Ugarit said, "You could do it in the old way. Dog is not male, like you."
"I would not!" Duma growled and fixed his eyes on Ugarit's. "Even if in some desperate circumstance I might, we are in the heart of an Elf Wood! Our spawn would be slain before they found kindred. What is the point of breeding in the old and most unpleasurable way if no spawn will survive?"
"What is the point in pleasurable activity that produces no spawn or young?" Ugarit asked. "You seemed willing to do that with many."
"The point there is for each partner to feel good for some short while in a world filled with many bad things."
"If that is how you think, then you should ease his instinct-mad mind by taking him. Dog knows how to make a master feel pleasured."
"That one is not my master!" Dog barked at them. He curled on the couch and said nothing else.
Duma rose from the table and passed Tashmetum to Ugarit. "I need to go walk somewhere."