Week 50 Topic: What do you have to be thankful for?
“…and we give thanks for the harvests of this year which have been plentiful and healthy.”
The crowd in front of him echoed their thanks and he drank deep from his goblet.
The harvests had been good, trade had been profitable and the forests were full of game to hunt.
Slowly the people before him dispersed into smaller groups as they ate and drank and danced. The hall was decked in golds and reds, as befitting the season, and he himself wore rich brown robes and a crown of tarnished bronze leaves.
Relaxing back into his seat, he watched them, thankful that this year had been kind to them, and that this winter, no matter how harsh it promised to be, they would have food to last them.
“You look too thoughtful old friend,” Glebril was slouched elegantly over the seat next to him, cup in one hand, a leg of some fowl in the other, and was, by all accounts well on his way to being drunk.
“Not thoughtful, just relaxed, although with everything we’ve seen in the last few years, it’s no surprise you can’t tell the difference.” Thranduil replied, smiling.
Laughing, Glebril raked a cursory glance over the dancing crowd, “So what are you thankful for this harvest, my lord?” He pulled a mouthful of meat from the bone and continued talking, mumbling round the food, “I, myself, am eminently thankful that you are still around, for without you, who would I drink with. I’m also rather thankful that this wine is as good as it is, and that the cooks have stopped at nothing to make this banquet one of the finest in years.” He waved the cup around a bit and looked expectantly at Thranduil, who raised an eyebrow and grinned.
“Have you quite finished? I’m thankful that I have such a generous drinking companion, who not only stops me drinking, but also makes sure that I can’t drink once he’s gone by finishing the bottle by himself. I’m glad that the food is to your liking and that the cooks are doing their jobs properly, and I’m incredibly thankful that no one has started brawling yet.” He took a mouthful of wine and stared off into the middle distance. “On a more serious note, I’m thankful for trade being as smooth as it is at the moment, and that the forest is light again. I’m thankful to those who gave their lives to make it so, and to those who took the Ring to be destroyed. I’m thankful that my son is well and safe, even if he isn’t here, and I’m thankful that I’ll soon be able to sail West, away from your atrocious eating habits!” he finished, grinning.
Looking highly insulted, Glebril stood, “Well then my lord, myself and my eating habits shall bid you to have a good evening, and shall go and find company that is not so refined.” Somehow managing a sweeping bow, he turned and was soon lost in the crowd.
Thranduil smiled, finished his drink and stood. “I’m also thankful for the amazing friends I have here.” He muttered before meandering through the people towards the table, piled high with food.
Muse: Thranduil
Fandom: LoTR/The Hobbit
Word Count: 534
The crowd in front of him echoed their thanks and he drank deep from his goblet.
The harvests had been good, trade had been profitable and the forests were full of game to hunt.
Slowly the people before him dispersed into smaller groups as they ate and drank and danced. The hall was decked in golds and reds, as befitting the season, and he himself wore rich brown robes and a crown of tarnished bronze leaves.
Relaxing back into his seat, he watched them, thankful that this year had been kind to them, and that this winter, no matter how harsh it promised to be, they would have food to last them.
“You look too thoughtful old friend,” Glebril was slouched elegantly over the seat next to him, cup in one hand, a leg of some fowl in the other, and was, by all accounts well on his way to being drunk.
“Not thoughtful, just relaxed, although with everything we’ve seen in the last few years, it’s no surprise you can’t tell the difference.” Thranduil replied, smiling.
Laughing, Glebril raked a cursory glance over the dancing crowd, “So what are you thankful for this harvest, my lord?” He pulled a mouthful of meat from the bone and continued talking, mumbling round the food, “I, myself, am eminently thankful that you are still around, for without you, who would I drink with. I’m also rather thankful that this wine is as good as it is, and that the cooks have stopped at nothing to make this banquet one of the finest in years.” He waved the cup around a bit and looked expectantly at Thranduil, who raised an eyebrow and grinned.
“Have you quite finished? I’m thankful that I have such a generous drinking companion, who not only stops me drinking, but also makes sure that I can’t drink once he’s gone by finishing the bottle by himself. I’m glad that the food is to your liking and that the cooks are doing their jobs properly, and I’m incredibly thankful that no one has started brawling yet.” He took a mouthful of wine and stared off into the middle distance. “On a more serious note, I’m thankful for trade being as smooth as it is at the moment, and that the forest is light again. I’m thankful to those who gave their lives to make it so, and to those who took the Ring to be destroyed. I’m thankful that my son is well and safe, even if he isn’t here, and I’m thankful that I’ll soon be able to sail West, away from your atrocious eating habits!” he finished, grinning.
Looking highly insulted, Glebril stood, “Well then my lord, myself and my eating habits shall bid you to have a good evening, and shall go and find company that is not so refined.” Somehow managing a sweeping bow, he turned and was soon lost in the crowd.
Thranduil smiled, finished his drink and stood. “I’m also thankful for the amazing friends I have here.” He muttered before meandering through the people towards the table, piled high with food.
Muse: Thranduil
Fandom: LoTR/The Hobbit
Word Count: 534