Chapter Nine

Disclaimer—no money is made from my endeavour to entertain you with my probably bad attempts at imitating Master Tolkien.  I do it for enjoyment only, and boy do I ever. 

Rating—PG-13 nothing bad in this chapter at all though.  Probably more PG

Here in this chapter we FINALLY arrive in Imladris.  I know I could not have postponed it any longer.  This is a discussion-heavy chapter, sorry, no shoot-em-up this time, but there’ll be a lot more later.  Expect lots of familiar faces from here on out.  Now we are finally getting into the action of the story.  Nine chapters in.  Meh.

Oh and any discussions or mentionings of things in the past (specifically in the scene with Bilbo and Legolas) are referring to things that will happen in the prequel to this story, part of which is up now under the title In the Garden.  Sorry for the shameless plug but I thought I should explain that a little in case someone read that and wondered what was going on.

Chapter Nine

The next morning arrived with the sun high in the sky.  I had slept well after the exhausting events of the previous night.  I woke up feeling greatly refreshed and quite anxious to get to Imladris.

Great enough were the numbers of the Rivendell-host that none of the dwarves or Mirkwood elves had been needed to keep watch.  In fact, they let us all sleep in.  When I awoke, Legolas was of course still deeply asleep, as were Fânwen and Menellion close by.  Elladan and Elrohir, however, were up and supervising the packing of supplies, looking as if they had been awake for hours. 

After braiding my hair and making myself presentable in my extra tunic, I made my way over to the sons of Elrond.  “Well, good morning, sleepy head,” Elrohir laughed.

“It is a good morning,” I said, with a smile.  “Thank you for letting us sleep late.”

Elladan raised a dark brow.  “Then I would guess you are in a more pleasant mood than last evening?”

“Yes,” I replied.  “Very much so.  Actually, I want to apologise for my uncouth behaviour.  I let my anger take control of me and I know it was inappropriate and unbecoming—“

“On the contrary,” Elladan said, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.  “You were quite becoming, in my opinion.”

“Oh yes, I rather enjoyed it also,” Elrohir said, laughing again.

I just stared at them.  I was beginning to think that all of the males in my life had gone insane; this thought was even stronger a moment later when Legolas walked up, placed an arm around my waist and said, “Good morning, my lords.  I see you have already met my wife, the fiercest and most beautiful orc-slayer this side of Dol Guldur.”

The twins laughed at the fierce look I gave my husband.  “Yes, we were just discussing the lady’s fighting skills,” Elrohir said.

“Or something like that,” Elladan said, with a wink. 

Legolas laughed, knowing very well what we had been talking about. 

“I am glad you all think this is so amusing,” I said, not really angry with them but wanting to stress how serious I thought this was.  “I admit it helped me in the battle, allowed me to save Glís, but it was a bit frightening and frankly, I am a little concerned.”

“Like I said last night, I would not worry about it right now, dear,” Legolas said, squeezing me tighter.  “I do not like to see you so troubled, but at this moment we have bigger concerns than your anger management problem.”

“Also, if it really concerns you that much, perhaps you should speak to Adar when we get back to Imladris?” Elrohir suggested. 

That sounded like a perfect idea to me.  If anyone could put my mind at ease about this, it would be Lord Elrond.  “I think I will do just that,” I replied, smiling.

“Now that is what I like to see,” Legolas said, kissing my cheek.

An hour later everyone was awake and ready to go.  We set off for Imladris, nearly eighty elves and the nine remaining dwarves composing the largest travelling party I had ever been involved with.  It was a perfect day for travelling, sunny but not too warm, with a pleasant breeze to ruffle the horses’ hair.  There was no sign of the few remaining orcs; indeed, the closer we got to Imladris, the more I could feel the protection of Elrond’s Ring over the valley.

The rest of the journey was pleasant and uneventful, most of it spent riding alongside the twins, catching up on things, including several extremely interesting bits of news we had known nothing about.  We also told the twins of our frightening encounter with the Nazgûl.  They were shocked and horrified, because they had been scouting for them for some time, to no avail. 

“So where is Estel?” Legolas asked, soon after the journey had started.  “I am surprised he did not come with you.” 

Elrohir’s face clouded.  “Adar sent him after the halflings.  Mithrandir was supposed to meet them in Bree but since he was incapacitated…” He trailed off, sounded very worried.

Elladan finished his thought, though he sounded equally concerned.  “They had not returned for several days, and since the Nine are abroad, naturally Adar is upset.  He sent Lord Glorfindel out to look for them, the last we heard.”

“Good,” I said.  “If anyone can find them, he can.” 

“Yes, that was Adar’s thinking,” Elladan said.  He sighed.  “Though it does not help to ease the anxiety of any of us.” 

“I can imagine,” Legolas said, glancing at me.

“I cannot remember the last time Adar was so worried,” Elrohir said.  “Arwen is nearly beside herself, as well.” 

“Oh yes,” Elladan continued with a half-smirk.  “Our sister is near to ripping her hair out when our scouts come back each night with no news of her beloved.”     

“Her what?” Legolas and I said at exactly the same time.

Elladan turned on his horse to stare at us for a moment.  “You mean you do not know?”

“Aragorn and the Evenstar are betrothed,” Elrohir said. 

I could not help it, my mouth dropped open.  Fânwen, who was riding to the right of me, snapped her head around suddenly to look at Elrohir.  I think she was trying to see if he was joking, which for Elrohir would not have been an odd thing.  Legolas just stared at the younger of the twins. 

After a moment my husband cleared his throat.  “And when did this happen?”  he asked. 

Elladan thought for a moment.  “Nearly forty years ago, now,” he finally answered.  “Estel went to see Arwen in Lothlórien.  Remember she was staying with our grandparents for a time?” 

Legolas nodded. 

“Well, he went there to see her.  Apparently they confessed their love for each other, and are betrothed.”  Elladan shrugged. 

“What-what does your Adar think of this?” I asked slowly. 

Elrohir sighed again.  “It is complicated,” he said.  “He is not happy about it, but at the same time, I think he is pleased.” 

I understood exactly what he meant.  I expected that Elrond would be very conflicted by what was happening.  He would of course be very upset that Arwen had pledged her love to a mortal, for each time this had happened in the past it had ended tragically.  However, part of Elrond would be pleased that she had chosen Estel.  Estel had been raised in their household after his mother’s death.  He was like a third son to Lord Elrond, one of the Dunedain, and, as he had so recently found out, the heir to the throne of Gondor.  He was the direct descendant of Isildur himself, he who so long ago had made the fatal mistake of not casting Sauron’s evil Ring into the chasm of Mount Doom.  Most of all he was a good man, a brave man, who had loved his foster-family with a kind of fierce pride and loyalty.  Yes, I could see how complicated it was.

I sat on my horse in a bit of shocked silence.  Why had Arwen mentioned nothing of this in her letters?  For nearly forty years, she had spoken not one word of it.  Estel too had said nothing.  He had just been in Mirkwood earlier in the year with Mithrandir to entrust Gollum to us.  They had stayed for three days, but in all that time, even during our late nights of stories and discussions, he had said nothing. 

Legolas’ mind was whirling as well.  However, in addition to being a bit surprised, he was also a little angry with Arwen and Estel.  I found myself agreeing with him.  After all, we, of all people, would have empathized with them.  Our situations were alike in many ways.  Estel had fallen in love with his foster-sister, just as Legolas had fallen in love with me.  Their situation was a bit more complex than ours, yes, but we were no strangers to the predicament and had had to figure out how to deal with our own family.  I was actually a bit hurt that they had not at least told us, let alone come to us for advice.  I pondered this for a few moments, making up my mind to ask Arwen about it when we got to Imladris. 

I shook my head to clear my rambling thoughts.  The mood had sobered considerably which was a very peculiar thing to occur in the presence of the twins.  I decided to try and rescue our playful mood of a few minutes before.

“So,” I began.  “Arwen has found someone, but have either of you?” 

The utter speed with which the blushes spread over their faces made me laugh out loud.  Legolas too grinned and Fânwen smothered a smile. 

“Err,” Elladan said, clearing his throat.    “Not-not exactly.”

Elrohir was more direct.  “No.” 

“Why ever not?” I asked, with a grin.

 “Because…well…BECAUSE,” Elladan said, going even redder. 

This time we could not help it.  Legolas, Fânwen, and I laughed.  Menellion, to Fânwen’s right, grinned broadly.  “It looks like you have trodden into a sensitive subject, my Lady,” he said.

“Indeed, it does,” I replied, with a smirk.  “Elrohir, are you as offended as your brother?”

He shrugged.  “No.  I am just practical.  Believe me, my brother and I do not have a shortage of attractive, available maidens at our disposal—“

Legolas snorted.

Elrohir ignored him.  “—But we choose not to bond with any of them because we are too busy.  I do not think it would be right to wed someone when I am not at home for much of the time.” 

That made sense.  Still, he was being awfully haughty about it, and Elladan was offended and bordering upon angry.  For these reasons alone, I knew that the teasing would not stop.  Once we got to Imladris, Lord Glorfindel would probably join with us, though he too was in the notoriously available bachelor’s club.  We all rather enjoyed teasing the twins, especially because they spent so much time playing pranks on people and trying to cause good-natured upset to all.  It was just that they put it out better than they took it, which we all found endlessly amusing. 

For the moment I dropped it, after another grin and a wink from Legolas.  He too kept silent, knowing all well what awaited us during the Imladris visit.  I smiled back, glad to see him in good spirits after the events of last night.  He had said no more of the matter, but the problem of what to say about Gollum was there, shoved into a corner of his mind.  He was very worried about the implications of the loss of our captive would be, not only for Mirkwood, but for everywhere else as well.  So was I, but for the moment, we again decided to focus on the here and now, which was decidedly pleasant and easy-going; it did not need to be interrupted by disagreeable thoughts.

********

The next two days passed almost uneventfully, as we descended from the mountains into the fertile valley of Rivendell.  The daylight was spent on horseback, catching up and even gossiping.  The nights were spent around a fire with entertainment abounding in the form of songs, stories, and a hilarious moment when Lalaithion tried to out-drink the grey-haired dwarf.  The dwarves had brought along some of their famous ale, and kindly offered it to everyone.  Most of the elves wisely declined.  We could handle our wine quite well (though I daresay Ada was a bit too fond of the Dorwinian), but ale was another story altogether, especially dwarven ale.  It was very potent, especially to those who were not accustomed to it.  Lalaithion learned his lesson quickly, as the dwarf easily bested him without even a hint of drunkenness, even whilst Lalaithion fell so deeply into a dead snore that he slept with his eyes closed.  We all had a good laugh at his expense, even more so the next morning when he awoke with a splitting headache and a disposition even worse than a Balrog with a toothache.

I spent most of my time in the company of Fânwen and Glís.  They liked each other right away.  Legolas began to call us “partners in crime” because we were together so much, laughing and talking.  It fell into a sort of pattern, a very comfortable, easy relationship I enjoyed very much.  It was as if Fânwen and I had known Glís our whole lives.  She was easy-going and good-natured, and as I found out, several years younger than her gruff husband.  I found myself wondering several times how she had ended up with Gloin, as their personalities were vastly different, but when I noticed the look in her eyes when she saw him, that look of utter devotion, longing, and love that I knew all so well, I understood. 

They were as madly in love with each other as Legolas and I were, and like us, did not care who knew it.  They were very affectionate with each other—Gloin was even playful with her.  Whenever they were together they were always holding hands or kissing.  It made me smile just to be around them, especially when I caught Gimli smiling at them also. 

Gimli was complex.  His fierce love and devotion to his parents and the other dwarves was quite obvious, but he was just as impolite and even gruff as his father.  Half the time he communicated in grunts or did not answer at all.  He was polite enough to the elleth in our company, especially to me (which I suspected had something to do with my helping his mother in the battle), but he was still rather standoffish and even arrogant to others.  I heard several elves grumbling about his attitude.  He even rubbed Legolas the wrong way; my even-tempered husband who got along with everyone.   He wanted very badly to like Gimli, to get along with him and communicate with him, but the dwarf was difficult.  I hoped the situation would improve once we reached our destination.

********

We reached the furthest guard tower from the city during the afternoon of the third day.  Elladan had a messenger ride ahead to relay our safe arrival.  After that the going was smooth and very fast, everyone very eager to finally arrive at the Last Homely House.  As we reached the stables and dismounted, I heard Tasarë’s stomach grumble quite audibly. 

“Someone is hungry,” a deep voice came from behind me as I helped a groom lead Dîndal into her stall.  I turned around quickly only to see the Lord himself standing there, a small smile present on his ageless features.  He stood in robes of blue and white, his arms folded, his hair pulled away from his face.  A sense of awe seemed to overtake everyone standing in the stables.  Ada was intimidating and ageless himself, but he did not possess the sense of melancholic awareness that Lord Elrond did.  Elrond’s grey eyes betrayed endless amounts of what his impassive face could not: endless amounts of thousands of year’s worth of experience.  Much of that experience was mired in grief; it far outweighed the happy times.  A living legend stood before us; we were taught as toddlers of Elrond and his mortal brother Elros.  His parents had played an enormous part in the epic of the Silmarils.  Elrond had been at the Last Alliance to witness the death of Gil-galad and council Ada when his own adar Oropher was slain. 

In his eyes I saw the departed Celebrían, the love of his life, she who had been so lovely and kind to everyone she knew, including the naughty princes and shy princess of Mirkwood, whom she had visited with so often.  In just that split second I found myself missing her, wishing she too was there to greet us.  How devastated my own Nana had been when Celebrían had sailed.  How devastated we all had been to lose such a beautiful perfect creature.  I saw in Elrond’s eyes that he still missed her every day.  He was biding his time until he too could sail, to be in Valinor with his beloved.

His daughter Arwen stood next to him, utterly luminous in a flowing pale gown, her dark hair contrasting perfectly with its color.  Elrond glanced at her, and I saw even more in his face.  I saw the fierce love and devotion that had always been there for the one who so resembled him, but I also saw another bit of melancholy.  My earlier guess had been right.  He was very glad that Arwen had chosen someone, but he very much disagreed with her choice, though he loved Estel with all his heart. 

As I had remarked many times before upon seeing the Lord of Imladris, I was glad that I was not in his place.  I did not know how one person could stand everything that he had been through, everything that he would probably go through yet, and still be as confident, regal, and kind as he was.  He genuinely cared about all creatures of Middle-earth, including Men, whom many elves wanted no quarrel with.  He carried all this great weight on his shoulders with no complaints or regrets.  I respected and admired him more than I can even say, as every person that I have ever known has also.  All this came from one look into Lord Elrond’s eyes, one glimpse into his soul. 

“I think we are all hungry, my Lord,” I said, stepping forward.  All elves in our party greeted Elrond and Arwen in the formal manner, then Legolas and I stepped forward to embrace them. 

“It has been much too long,” Arwen said, hugging me tightly and smiling.  Over her shoulder I saw Gloin step forward with a rare smile on his face, to embrace Lord Elrond. 

“Aye, it has,” I replied.  “It seems you have much to tell me.”  I winked at her and she colored slightly. 

“Yes, after you have all eaten and been refreshed,” Lord Elrond said.  “I am sure you are anxious to get out of those travelling clothes.”

“We certainly are!  Ugh!” Fânwen replied, eliciting a laugh from the whole group. 

Elrond turned and gestured to someone I had not noticed before, Erestor, one of his head councillors.  “Erestor, will you please show the Greenwood party to their chambers?” 

“Yes, my Lord,” Erestor said, smiling as Legolas came forward to greet him. 

Our party began to follow Erestor as Lord Elrond took the dwarves in another direction.  As always I marvelled at the intricate open architecture of the city.  Mirkwood’s palace was actually carved into a cave, but it was still a palace.  It did not have the sense of peace and home that Imladris had. 

“So Erestor,” Legolas began as the elf showed everyone to their rooms.  “Any word from Lord Glorfindel or Estel?”

“I am afraid not,” the dark-haired elf replied, with a sigh.  “There has been no word at all for days.   Lord Elrond is beside himself.  I believe he is going to send the twins out again tomorrow, after they have rested.”

“I hope they find them soon,” Fânwen said softly. 

“You mean you hope they find him soon,” Lalaithion said, smirking. 

“Stop it you two,” Menellion said before his wife reacted in a rash manner. 

Even Erestor smiled at all of this.  He probably saw it all the time, I mused.  In my mind’s eye I could see plenty of maidens swooning over the blonde elf-lord.  Erestor probably teased him endlessly, not that he did not deserve it.  Still, I of course hoped he was all right.  Glorfindel of Gondolin, the mighty Balrog-slayer all little elves learned about almost as soon as they could walk, was a mysterious, jovial elf who almost rivalled Lord Elrond in age and experience.  I was confident he would return, hopefully with the hobbits and Estel all in one piece.  If anyone could find them, it was he. 

Erestor took everyone to his or her rooms, Legolas and I last.  We were staying in the same chambers we always stayed in, just down the hall from the twins and Arwen.  This got us into trouble many times when we were small, as the temptation to sneak out at night had been too great to resist.  I had usually slept in Arwen’s room whilst Legolas and my brothers had slept in this room, but usually the boys woke us up in the night to get up to mischief.  Now that we were older and married, the familiar room had been converted to accommodate us.  A double bed replaced the twin beds that had once occupied the room.  There was a small closet and a vanity to place our things.  A door to the left led to our washroom, where someone had already brought up a fresh tub of water for us both.  Doors led to a balcony overlooking the practice fields and archery range.  It was a nice, homely room, one in which we always felt welcome. 

Erestor left us to our own devices, promising dinner in an hour.  I could sense how tired my husband was, because I was also.  Legolas went immediately to the bed as I began to unpack our things.  He sat and untied his boots, pulling them off with effort and wriggling his toes afterward.

“I think my boots are too small,” he said with a grimace.  My feet are killing me.”  He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes for a moment. 

“We will get you a new pair,” I said as I hung up his formal robes in the closet.  “You should wash now, they want us in an hour.” 

He sat up slowly with a tired groan.  “Do I have to, ‘Nana’?” he whined, grinning.

I picked up a pillow and hit him with it.  “Yes you do, now get in there so I can go after you.” 

“Who says you have to go after me?” he asked, raising a brow mischievously, leaning forward to place his elbows on his thighs.  “There is enough water in there for two.” 

I regarded his face a moment.  It had been a long, long trip and a very long time since we had been alone like this, but at the moment, practicality should reign.  “Darling,” I said carefully.  “I am exhausted and so are you.  If we both go in there together, we probably will not make it down to dinner, and considering the circumstances, I do not think that is such a good idea.” 

His face took on a look of mock-hurt; he knew I was right but could not resist teasing.  “Why do you have to be so practical all the time?” 

“Because one of us has to be!” 

He laughed, shaking his head as he stood up.  “You are right, as usual.  Come here.” 

He drew me into his tight embrace and I allowed him to kiss me lightly.  He knew I was teasing him as much as he was teasing me.  If there was a practical person the world, it was he, and we both knew it.  He had done many irrational things, especially when he began trying to court me, but a more practical elf, one could not find.  He was jovial, mischievous and rotten sometimes even, but he took ceremony and duty very seriously.  He was very practical when he knew more pressing matters were at hand, but he teased me because he knew I enjoyed it and he knew I would do it to him right back.  I supposed this was something that kept our relationship healthy.  I knew that before Fânwen’s emergence back into society, Menellion had not dared ridicule or tease his wife in any way, and their relationship had been strained and tense to the point of exasperation.  Now that she was more open and all right with it, I had begun to see them being more playful with each other, more teasing and fun.  And now that we had entered Imladris and would eventually find out just how grave the world’s situation would become, they needed these moments; we needed them.  Little things like this would keep us sane. 

I reached up to smooth some hair out of his face, smiling as he smiled back.  Then I swatted him on the backside with the pillow I was still holding, making him jump slightly.  “Go, and hurry up so I can wash too.  I feel filthy.” 

“Yes, ‘Nana’,” he said again, then bounded into the washroom. 

I shook my head and finished putting away our things, only slowly because I knew he would take forever freshening up.  He always did—he was worse than a maiden that way.  He got it honestly though: Ada was worse than he and Mellossë was close.  I could remember a banquet at home once, when Nana, utterly exasperated because a male blonde of the house of Oropher occupied every washroom in the house and our guests were arriving in twenty minutes, had purposely tipped over a candle in the foyer and set some curtains on fire.  She ran through the palace screaming “Fire!  Fire!” at the top of her lungs, scaring Ada and his sons so badly that they ran out of the washrooms in towels and nothing else with soap still in their hair.  During the confusion that ensued, she, Arahil, and I were able to run into the washrooms to get ready whilst naked Ada, Legolas, and Mellossë pounded on the doors, the fire having been just a small flame that was put out in less than a minute.  Needless to say, the three had attended the banquet that night with wet hair and nasty tempers, as Nana, Arahil and I had to stifle laughter and endure their glares all evening. 

“That was definitely not funny,” Legolas yelled from the washroom, sloshing in the tub. I laughed out loud. 

********

Miraculously, Legolas was ready to go an hour later and so was I.  He had dressed in his forest green formal robes, his hair braided expertly on the back and sides, done by me of course.  I was back in a gown, and very glad of it.  I had been getting very tired of my travelling tunic, especially since the battle with the orcs had left me without a spare.  It was getting rather nasty, so I was quite glad to be back in my pale green formal dress with my hair pulled up off of my neck.  The bath had been so wonderful I had not wanted to leave, though of course duty called.

As we walked out of our chambers, I linked my arm with his.  We went slowly, admiring the emerging stars outside as well as the calm voices in the trees.  Someone was always singing in Imladris, singing beautiful, melancholy songs of the days of old.  It was another little thing I looked forward to every time we traveled there.

We were just outside the dining hall when I heard someone start behind us in surprise.  “Well bless my heart,” came the soft voice. 

Legolas and I both turned to see a very short creature no more than three feet tall, with whitening hair and a slight stoop to his small form.  He was leaning on a cane, shuffling his hairy, bare feet as he came toward us.  His trousers ended just below his knees, giving us an even better look at those feet.  A broad smile played across his creaked features, giving him a wizened, gentlemanly look that quite suited him, considering who he was. 

“Bilbo?” Legolas said, a smile immediately filling his face. 

“Master Legolas, my lad, yes it’s me,” Bilbo Baggins said with a little laugh as he crossed the distance and bear-hugged my husband so hard that Legolas gave a little “oof” before bending down to embrace the hobbit himself. 

“You look wonderful!” Bilbo said.  “Even taller and more handsome than the last time I saw ye, I swear.”  He chuckled at Legolas’ blush, then turned to see me.  “Well praise be the stars in the sky,” he said, a hand over his heart.  “Might this vision of loveliness before me be the Lady Sorayaiel?” 

“It is I,” I said, with a smile and a little curtsy, blushing at his gallantry and flattery.  “It is wonderful to see you, Master Baggins.” 

“Not as wonderful as it is for me to see you, I’d reckon,” Bilbo said.  “Has this husband of yours been up to any rascally mischief since the last I saw you?  I remember my last trip to Mirkwood your father wasn’t very pleased with you.” 

Legolas and I laughed.  Last time Bilbo had seen Legolas had been the day he had departed from Mirkwood after the Battle of the Five Armies to return home to the Shire.  Ada had been furious at Legolas for some rash actions committed during the fighting and had not bothered to take it out on his son in private.  Bilbo and I had tried to warn Legolas beforehand not to evoke Ada’s wrath, but in a rare moment of irrationality he had not listened and had to suffer the consequences, which I must say were a little amusing to Bilbo and myself, though definitely not to Legolas.  The incident had endeared Legolas to Bilbo ever since.

“For the most part, he has managed to keep himself out of trouble,” I replied, winking at my husband, who rolled his eyes at me. 

Bilbo laughed his loud, boisterous laugh.  “It is nice to see you two with a sense of humor.  It is sometimes lacking around here, I am afraid.” 

He sounded sad, and it was then that I realized how tired he looked.  The last time I had seen him, nearly sixty years ago, he had been very young seeming and full of life.  Now he looked old, weary, and sad.  I did not know why, until Legolas thought of the Ring.  He guessed that the Ring had made Bilbo stay so young and vital, wreaking its influence over him until he had somehow given it up.  Neither of us knew how, though we supposed it would all come up in the council. 

“So Mirkwood has old Gollum, eh?” Bilbo asked, though neither of us knew how to answer.  “I’ll bet your parents are pleased about that.  Though your mother probably thinks he’s cute, if she’s anything like she was when I met her.  How is the queen, by the way?” 

Legolas and I glanced at each other.  He looked away from both Bilbo and me, hesitated, and said, very quietly, “She sailed.  Nearly twenty years ago.” 

Bilbo started and became very pale.  “Oh.  I…I did not know.  I-I’m sorry.  Forgive me for—“

“It is alright, Bilbo sir,” I said, smiling a little.  “You could not have known.” 

“Still, I—“

“Speak of it no more,” Legolas said, shaking his head.  “You did nothing wrong, Bilbo Baggins, except mention my beloved naneth and speak fondly of her, which makes me like you even more.  And you spoke the truth, she probably would have found that loathsome creature  ‘cute.’” 

Bilbo chuckled.  “Oh yes, your mother was a sweet lady, most definitely.  She was very hospitable to the dwarves, I remember, so I can see her treating Gollum the same.  Yes, I can imagine it as if it were right in front of me.” 

Legolas smiled, though inwardly he winced, wanting desperately to get the conversation away from Gollum as soon as possible, as he still had not figured out how to broach the subject of his escape with anyone. 

Luckily he was saved as the dinner bell rang.  Bilbo gestured for us to go through before him, so Legolas took my arm again and led me inside.  Bilbo spotted Gloin and his whole face lit up again as it had when he had seen Legolas.  He bid us goodbye for now and went off to greet the dwarves.  Glís caught my eye as we watched Bilbo run over to them; she smiled and waved and I did the same. 

Erestor came to show us where to sit.  “I see you got to speak to our little house-guest?” 

“Yes,” I replied.  “May I ask why he is here?”

Erestor smiled.  “Master Bilbo is writing a book, he says, about his adventures.  He wanted to retire here so he might have access to our library.  I also daresay he wanted to spend his remaining days in this place where he had many fond memories.” 

Legolas voiced his earlier thought, though in a low voice.  “So he has given up the Ring then?”

“Yes,” Erestor said, looking more serious.  “It has gone into the care of his nephew Frodo.  It is he whom Aragorn has gone to find.”

Now I understood why Glorfindel had been sent out to find Estel and the hobbits.  I think normally Lord Elrond would have trusted the man’s ranger skills to get them to Imladris, but in these circumstances, it sounded as if they needed the elf-lord’s extra help.  Things seemed much more dire than they had sounded when we arrived, especially since no one had heard from any of them for days. 

We took our seats, Arwen, Legolas, and I to the left of Lord Elrond and Erestor to his right, with three empty seats between them.  I assumed that two of them were for the twins, but whom the third was for, I did not know.  The Mirkwood elves sat to Legolas’ left, with Nurhoth directly beside him.  The dwarves and Bilbo sat across from us at another table.  The rest of the tables were filled with Imladris elves.

Lord Elrond stood, which immediately hushed everyone in the room.  “Welcome friends,” he said, his strong voice carrying very clearly across the large room.  “I know that we are gathered here under less than desirable circumstances, but I hope this evening will find everyone well and in good spirits.  This meal is to welcome our friends from distant lands to our humble home of Imladris.  We would like to welcome Prince Legolas Thranduilion and Princess Sorayaiel Dûrborioniel Thranduiliel and our cousins from Greenwood, who have arrived today.” 

He paused as we acknowledged his greeting.  “Also arriving today with the Greenwood party were a contingent of dwarf-folk from the Lonely Mountain, led by Gloin, son of Groin, and his wife, the Lady Glís. As you may know, the dwarf-party was attacked by orcs several days from Imladris, and lost several members of their party.  Through this sadness, though, their people persevere.  I would like to welcome this party to the Homely House.  Though I cannot ease the pain of your loss, I can promise you a peaceful and safe stay in Rivendell.  I hope you will rest here and find peace, mellonath nîn, and may the Valar keep you always.” 

I could see that Lord Elrond’s words had moved the dwarves; Glís even had tears in her eyes.  Even here in Imladris there were elves that did not agree with dwarves and did not want them here.  I could see in the dwarves’ faces gratitude and respect for the elf-lord.  It seemed as though they would find peace in Rivendell, and I was not the only one glad of it. 

“I would like to welcome you all to the Last Homely House.  I trust you will all take advantage of anything you see fit to make your stay comfortable.  ‘Our house is your house’ as I am told they say among men.”  He allowed a small smile to flit across his features, and then became serious again.  “For now, let us eat.” 

He sat down as servants began bringing out food and drink.  I smiled down at the other Mirkwood elves, whose faces were bright and eager for the bounty being laid before us.  Lalaithion looked as if he wanted to jump into the bowl of mashed potatoes that Galenparth passed him, whilst Gloriavas grabbed the squash with gusto.  Legolas piled his plate high and I admit I took more than my fare share also.  Lembas only goes so far. 

A moment later Elladan and Elrohir entered, fashionably late as always, eliciting a frown from their adar.  They sat down and piled up their plates also, after waving at us.  There was still an empty chair between Elrond and they. 

The person who was to sit in the chair entered several moments later, sparking a hushed whisper amongst all those gathered in the dining hall.  The extremely tall figure, clad entirely in grey with a long beard and eyebrows so large that I never knew how he could see past them, took off his pointed hat, revealing a rather large and recent gash along his forehead, and hung it across the back of the chair, easing himself down into it slowly with a big grin on his face. 

He nodded his head to Elrond and Arwen, who whispered, “He just arrived, not ten minutes after you did.” 

“What has happened to his head?” I asked. 

Arwen shrugged.  “I did not get to hear everything he said to Ada.  I know he was in Edoras, and I thought he went to see Saruman.  But I am not sure.” 

I nodded.  If Mithrandir had in fact taken Radagast’s advice and gone to see the head of the Istari, that was good.  Perhaps Saruman had promised to help with the situation.  But where had he received that nasty cut on his head?

Mithrandir accepted the plate of beans from Elrohir with a quiet “thank you” before speaking to Legolas.  “So I trust the journey from Greenwood went well, young Thranduilion?” he asked in his booming voice. 

“For the most part,” Legolas said, glancing at Nurhoth.  “Other than the Nazgûl.” 

“Ah yes, I heard about your encounter with the wraith,” the wizard said.  “I heard you did quite well.” 

Legolas gave Nurhoth the barest of glances again.  “I did what training would have me do.” 

“And in this case, it worked very much to your advantage,” Mithrandir replied, biting into some corn.  “Though I trust someday you will discover that even training cannot prepare you for all situations.” 

Neither of us knew what he meant, and from the look on Nurhoth’s face, he did not either.  Mithrandir suddenly changed the subject, as he was wont to do from time to time, and I found I was relieved.

“Lord Elrond, have you decided what to do about the council?” he asked.

“I have,” Elrond said.  “As much as it chagrins me that Lord Glorfindel and Aragorn have not yet arrived, I think we must get under way.  We are losing time; I can feel it.  As much as it pains me, I have decided it will be held seven days from now, on October the twenty-fifth, whether they have arrived or not.”

Arwen was looking down at her plate as if it were the most disgusting thing she had ever seen.  I touched her hand quickly and a weak smile appeared on her face. 

“Everyone who is to be involved will be told tonight,” Elrond continued, as Mithrandir nodded.  

I figured that definitely meant Legolas, or Lord Elrond would not have discussed this in front of us.  I felt anticipation well up inside my husband, eagerness as well as apprehension.  He said, “Lord Elrond, if I may, I would like to speak to you privately some time before the council.  It is a matter of utmost importance.” 

“I would be glad to speak to you, Legolas, though I trust it can wait until after tonight?  I can see how weary you are.” 

“Thank you, Lord Elrond,” Legolas replied, a little relieved.  He wanted to think about how he was going to tell Elrond about Gollum before he had to actually do it. 

The rest of the meal was spent speaking of good times, talking and laughing with old friends.  After we were finished, Arwen promised to meet me the next day for lunch, as we had much to catch up on and discuss and I was much too tired to do it this evening.  I also promised to meet Glís the next day.  Fânwen and I were going to show her around a bit.  She had never been to Imladris before and found herself utterly lost every time she turned around.  She was also to start training that day, and Fânwen and I wanted to practice a bit with her. 

All the Mirkwood elves made early exits, as soon as courtesy would allow.  I noticed Tasarë’s eyelids drooping several moments before Gloriavas roused him and they both made their exits.  Legolas and I of course had to stay a little longer, out of protocol, but eventually we were able to go back to our chambers before we fell asleep at the table. 

When we got back to the room, it was very dark, but the moon shone right into our window, illuminating Legolas as he stripped down to his underclothes and, without bothering to put on a night tunic or undo his hair, fell into the bed with a massive sigh and was completely asleep within seconds.  I did manage to get into my nightgown, but did not bother to pull the shades as I lay down beside him.  Instead I let the glow of the moonlight soothe my tired body as I slowly drifted into dreams. 

********

Elleth—elf-maidens

Mellonath nîn—my friends (that plural may be wrong, not sure)