Seeds of the White Tree

Chapter 53 - All That is Gold

Four months was not so very long, not when so much could and had happened within the space of a week. To the people of Gondor, it felt like a shock when they awoke one crisp morning to realize that it was not just autumn, but October, the month of the Harvest Festival. After so much chaos, such fright and uncertainty, how could anyone possibly be in a fit state to celebrate? The royal house of Telcontar was adamant though; the Harvest Festival would go on. 

There were, of course, a few minor changes to be made this year. With the siege of Minas Ithil still so fresh in everyone minds, it was by unspoken agreement that the tournament was forgone, at least for one year. Although - thanks to the efforts of Sufyan and the Haradrim - the loss of Gondorian life had not been so very great, most if not all of the tournament's usual champions possessed little appetite for even a mock battle. Instead, all planning and resources were focused upon a grand Harvest Feast. Every guest house, gathering hall, and tavern throughout The White City would of course host their own dinners, but up in the Citadel plans unfurled all throughout September for a banquet of such magnificence as had not been seen since the end of the War of the Ring. Cooks planned their career's finest masterpieces, the great feasting hall of Merethrond was trimmed with garlands of golden wheat and red leaves, and beyond the city walls the harvest crops were reaped. It was a time of rich earth, colorful trees, and long, fiery sunsets watched from porches and hilltops alike. 

 Just such a sunset lingered over the rooftops of Minas Tirith on the eve of the Harvest Feast, making the White City glow in the fading light. Eldarion stood upon a balcony of The King's House, watching the tell-tale party lights spring to life throughout the city below. He could hear the eager clamour of many voices in the Citadel, and sure enough; a steady stream of guests poured into the open doors of the Merethrond. Spacious though the great feasting hall of Gondor may be, there was only room enough for invited guests to attend the King's Harvest Feast. Seven hundred lords and ladies of Gondor had received such a coveted invite, and the mood amongst the guest as they crossed under the eves of the White Tree was merry. There were also, of course, the king's honoured guests from Rohan and Harad, most of whom were already inside. Soon the royal family themselves would make their entrance and join the festivities. 

Eldarion was dressed for the occasion. He wore a beautifully brocaded tunic; silver silk over blue, with patterns of flowers, stars, and swans scrolling across his chest, shoulders, and cuffs. On his brow he wore a silver circlet, and at his waist was a belt inlaid with such semi-precious stones as sapphire, moonstone, and pearl. Eldarion had seen himself in a mirror earlier, and wondered that he could possibly be the same man who had curled up and slept, exhausted, on a bench in broad daylight beneath Minas Ithil's smoke-filled sky. Such was the wonder of life. It was not upon his own appearance that Eldarion waited with such anticipation now though. 

Earlier that afternoon, Eruthiawen, Túrien, and Almárëa had disappeared into the queen's apartments, taking Galieth as their hostage. When Galieth had tried to insist that she could manage her own preparations for the banquet, her protests had fallen on deaf ears. Arwen, Éowyn, and Lothíriel had been no help; the family matriarchs even joined in on the fun, offering up suggestions and choice tidbits from their own collections of jewelry and other accessories. Only the reminder that her parents - Lord Suiledir and Lady Gwynnis of Annúminas - would be in attendance that evening had at last succeeded in subduing Galieth, and from that point onward there had been only mysterious laughter and whispers from behind closed doors. It was on the adjoining balcony outside the royal apartments that Eldarion now lurked, despite the knowledge that Elfwine and Elboron were probably waiting on him. 

A soft 'harrumph' from the far doorway caught Eldarion's attention. Straightening up from the railing where he'd been leaning, he was pleasantly surprised to see a short, bearded figure leaning upon a carven cane.