Chapter Text
You arrive at the fields just as the sun crosses the half way point in the sky, mist and smoke lingering heavy around the legs of your horse. A light canter brings you to the outskirts of a very, very large gathering. Half-visible flags and banners hang limp in the heat of what appears to be a lovely summer afternoon, distant din of conversations in many tongues and training – you're not sure what for, exactly – float past. The hill in the distance is entirely normal, and does not move even an inch.
In the center stands a massive structure, an arena. Stadium sized. Enough to fit 10,000 men. Or 8,000 dwarves. (The rest don’t want to sit in the nosebleeds.) Nobody counted how many Ents.
Aiming for the westernmost part of the fields, you trot past –
– is that a hobbit wielding a Lorien banner?
You shake your head, carrying on.
Legolas greets you dryly. “You are late.”
You counter, equally as dry. “You are early.”
He eyes the escort behind you – five Mirkwood guards including Tauriel, one very tired scout, and Arodhel.
“You brought Arodhel with you?”
“He volunteered.” You shrug. His expression tells you he won’t ask what you bribed him with.
He leads your group towards the Mirkwood tents, dark green and silver cloth crowding the hills, pointing out the camp setup along the way. “Down there are the Dale men, they sell great apples. Don’t try their ale. The dwarven…encampments are along the eastern route.” He points towards the direction you came from. That would explain the smoke that wafted along the river as you approached. “And the Mordor delegation has taken hold on the southern ridge.”
“The Mordor delegation?”
“Yes. The joint one with Isengard.” Reading your face, he continues quickly, “They are surprisingly calm. There have only been three diplomatic incidents thus far. None involved them. Two with hobbits.”
You nod your head, following along, or at least pretending to. It was all entirely overwhelming. Yet duty called, and duty does not wait patiently. Neither does Thranduil, who lances you with an icy stare as you dip past the canvas flap into the main Mirkwood pavilion.
You wait for him to speak. He says nothing, but lifts one eyebrow. It said enough.
“My lord.” You bow your head in greeting. “We were stuck behind an entire procession of goats from the Blue Mountains. Dain–”
“If goats move faster than you do,” he interrupts, “Then we are doomed for this event.” Legolas coughs in the background. Thranduil waves a hand, dismissing you. Shame flushes your cheeks, creeping crimson blooming down your neck under your tunic. He hands you a scroll, hastily wrapped in twine.
“Minutes. From the orientation you missed.”
You take it, bowing deeply. “Thank you, your highness.”
“Thanks is due to the hobbit scribe who noted your absence. You may say them in person, after you…recompose yourself.” His face is unreadable, but you can only guess how you looked – or smelled – after two weeks of travel.
You breathe.
It’s fine.
Everything is entirely normal, and things can only get better from here.
Probably.
Taking your leave of the king, you nod lightly in Legolas’ direction and exit the tent. The Mirkwood guards with you dispersed.
The outside light is blinding, so early in the day.
Except that wasn’t just the sunlight.
You squint your eyes, shielding your brow with your hand, to get a better look. A pale elven pavilion in the distance shines as if crafted from the very stars – either the Lorien elves decided on new lighting techniques, or Galadriel was having a conversation with Glorfindel. Either option stands a solid chance at this point. A dark shape rests on the roof of the shining pavilion. You don’t look too closely at what it is, choosing wisely to mind your business.
You hear your name from behind you. You turn to find Legolas amidst the bustling crowd, elves from different realms pushing past, carrying supplies and things that could potentially be wielded as equipment. Anyone’s guess as for what.
“I saved you a tent.”
You look at him, eyes questioning.
“I figured we could run morning drills together. For warmup.” He didn’t quite meet your eyes.
“Oh.” You blink, taken aback. “Thanks.” He nods, points to the vague direction of your tent, and is swallowed by the crowd before you can say anything else.
A white bird perches on a post, staring at you, head cocked to the side. You tilt your head at it in return, and it flies away, circling once.
The hill in the distance moves ever so slightly. You pretend not to notice.
MEETING MINUTES – THE GREAT ARDA GAMES – ORIENTATION SUMMIT
Recorded by: Frodo Baggins (Temporary Secretary)
Location: Central Pavilion, East Clearing, Field of Celebrant
Scheduled Time: Mid-morning
Actual Start: After “the incident”
Attendees: See Addendum A (Incomplete)
Item 1: Opening Remarks
Lord Elrond attempted to welcome all delegations.
He was immediately interrupted by Gandalf, who claimed the fire pit was “not up to code.”
A brief dispute followed.
Outcome: Opening remarks postponed pending fire pit evaluation.
Item 2: Safety Protocols
Radagast presented a list of approved animals.
Several unapproved animals were present.
A squirrel ran across the table. Ink undisturbed.
Item 3: Delegation Introductions:
The Lorien elves introduced themselves as “you already know us”. This caused some tension.
The Rohan representatives arrived on horseback. Indoors.
The Mordor–Isengard group introduced themselves politely, which confused everyone present.
Numenor declined to comment.
Outcome: Partial introductions completed. Atmosphere tense but cordial.
Item 4: Rules of the Games
Lord Elrond attempted to read the rules of the games.
Saruman objected to three of the rules.
Lord Elrond reminded him that he was a referee, and thus not competing.
Outcome: Rules remain under review.
Item 5: Conduct and Sportsmanship
Bombadil arrived unexpectedly.
He was not on the schedule.
Thorin Oakenshield and Glorfindel exchanged some “remarks”, though both insisted it was friendly. Volume suggested otherwise.
Outcome: Hospitality guidelines to be drafted by someone more qualified.
Item 6: Opening Ceremony Procedures
Several questions were raised:
– Are fireworks permitted?
– Is magic allowed?
– Does the goat count as a competitor or a guest?
A small fire broke out.
Not related to the fireworks question, according to Gandalf.
I may have missed a portion of the discussion due to smoke.
Item 7: Closing Remarks
Elrond attempted to adjourn the meeting twice.
No one heard him the first time.
No one listened the second time.
A single chicken was left behind.
Radagast denies ownership.
Minutes incomplete due to sudden evacuation.
Addendum A: Attendees
(Compiled after the fact; accuracy doubtful)
Elrond Peredhel
Representatives of Rivendell (at least three)
Two dwarves, accompanying Thorin Oakenshield
One polite Uruk-hai captain
Several Istari
Denethor of Gondor (uninvited)
Tom Bombadil (?), presence unconfirmed
A squirrel
Many others I could not list due to rapid movement
If your name is not listed, my apologies.
Note for the Record:
I have been assured future meetings will be less eventful. I remain unconvinced.