Gandalf was happy to see Aragorn, having not seen him since he was no more than a babe. A toddler recently orphaned. "Hello Aragorn. It's good to see you've grown up strong and healthy. You're a very important man." Legolas had not been paying attention and jumped as he was addressed, looking up into a handsome face. "Ah. Er, Good evening." He flushed, feeling a bit dumb. Gandalf have him a look. "Oh, and, nice to meet you too..." He was happy when he was saved by servants bringing in food. He stared at the plate in front of him, his stomach not really in the mood to eat. He tugged around the waist of his tunic, trying his best to lossen the corset underneath. Gandalf slapped at his hands and Legolas let out a breath, feeling a little low on air. He poked at his food with a fork for a bit, taking one or two bites now and then to try and seem normal. "Eat..." Gandalf hissed, trying to keep Legolas from seeming odd. Elrond, sitting on the other side of Legolas looked at him oddly. "Is something wrong?" He asked, glaring at the young prince as if he were being rude. "Oh, no sir, I'm just a slow eater." He focused on his food again, managing to finish it. His stomach felt awful and he could scarcely breathe without wheezing. As the dinner time came to a close, the festive part of the night began. The dining room was cleared and they were ushered into a ball room, filled with elves. The music was cheery and young couples danced and giggled. Legolas could feel eyes instantly on them as they entered the room. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but soon found himself dancing with young lasses and lads alike.

By his third dance, Legolas was panting and starting to see black at the edges of his eyes. The young man he was dancing with looked on with concern. "Are you ok?" He asked and Legolas nodded weakly. "I'm fine, I just, need to go freshen up..." He turned to walk back up the stairs, going out to the balcony where there was fresh air. When that didn't help, he yanked the tunic clean off and yanked at the corset. The knots were tied far to tight, but he had to get it off or he knew he'd faint. He pulled a dagger from in his boot and cut the laces, prying the offensive object off. Once it was gone, he pulled in air in a huge sigh, head spinning. He steadied himself, then held the balcony railing, staring into the night sky. He didn't bother putting his tunic back on. No one would be coming this way he convinced himself, and he had his tights on anyway. He looked down at himself. He wasn't quite sure why he'd had to wear such a torturous thing in the first place, worrying now that he might be fat. He walked off into the garden, leaving the silk tunic hanging over the railing. He found a decent place to sit in the Garden, and curled up, enjoying the quiet of the night. He'd never been big on parties, and he knew he'd be in trouble if he didn't return soon, but he just wasn't sure he wanted to be in the middle of all those people. Plus the fact that he was feeling a little self conscious and couldn't exactly put the torn corset back on.