CHAPTER 51

As Gloín came in their direction, Legolas started to move away. But Gimli stayed him with a gesture. “Bide with me, Legolas, until I know why he is here.” Since the messenger had brought word the evening before of his father’s presence in the company that would arrive, Gimli had been torn between hope and suspicion.

But when Gloín stood before them, he spoke first not to his son, but to the Elf. The old Dwarf cleared his throat, and then said firmly, “Prince Legolas, I fear that I was less than hospitable during your visit to the Lonely Mountain. I apologize for my churlish behaviour and --” he hesitated briefly before continuing, “--an I would like to better my acquaintance with one was so staunch a companion to my son.”

Legolas inclined his head briefly. “Master Gloín, that was handsomely spoken. I will consider that our acquaintance begins from this moment.” He smiled. “It is an honour to meet the father of my good friend. Legolas Greenleaf at your service, and your family’s.”

Gloín’s eyebrows rose in pleased surprise. He gave a polite bow. “Gloín son of Groín at yours, and” he hesitated only an instant, “your family’s.” He gave a sharp nod, and fixed his gaze upon his son.

Legolas graced him with another smile, and said, “If you will pardon me, I must speak with Captain Beregond about his message. I will speak with you later, Master Gloín.” He slipped away silently and gracefully, leaving Gimli alone with his father.

Gloín stood silently, apprehension in every line of his stance. He did not know if Gimli would accept his gesture.

But Gimli held out his hands, and they clasped one another’s forearms briefly--for Dwarves do not embrace in the presence of others--and Gimli said “That was well done, Father.”

“Am I forgiven for my wilfulness, my son?”

“Aye.” Gimli chuckled. “Was this journey Mother’s idea?”

“Nay,” Gloín shook his head. “Not hers, nor Frigg’s nor young King Thorin’s, though I doubt not that they one and all wished to urge it on me. But you had not been gone a day when I realised I had behaved badly and foolishly. An old friend helped me to understand what I must do.”

“I am glad, Father. Legolas has been a boon companion to me, and he is a brave and doughty warrior.”

“I do not doubt it, my son.” Gloín gazed over to the other Dwarves, who had waited at a discreet distance for father and son to greet one another. “Look what Nuri has brought to you! They will be accompanying you to those Glittering Caverns of yours, to help with planning the colony. And there are twice that number with Borin in Minas Tirith, already beginning their work there to help restore the city, and then will come to join you.” The old Dwarf grinned proudly. “And I am myself looking forward to seeing your new domain, Lord of Aglarond!”

Gimli’s eyes glowed. “Oh, Father, wait until you see…

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Lady Arien had been most impressed by the king of Rohan. His manner had been lordly, but kind, and his greeting to the Lady Lothíriel had been very gallant and courtly. The Hall of Meduseld was not so grand nor imposing as the Citadel of course, nor even so much as the castle at Dol Amroth. But it was imposing in its own way, with the gilded carvings and colourful tapestries that spoke of the arts of the Rohirrim.

After his greeting, the king had introduced them to his aunt. Now she and the princess followed the Lady Eormangilda to their new quarters, trailed by their own chambermaids, and a couple of Rohirric servants bearing their luggage. Arien glanced back for an instant, to make certain the maids were keeping up. Lady Lothíriel’s chambermaid, Tiriel, was an older woman, who had been with the princess ever since Lothíriel had left the nursery. But her own chambermaid was young. Niella was barely fifteen, and Arien had engaged her especially to bring with her on this journey.

Not for the first time, she wondered if this would be the beginning of a new life. She knew the princess was not yet certain that she would accept the king’s suit, but Arien very much hoped so. There was nothing left for her to return to in Dol Amroth.

She was, of course, not the only woman to be widowed by the War with Sauron. But she was the highest ranking widow who had no other ties. Her father had died many years earlier, her brother was killed in the Battle at the Black Gates that had also claimed her husband’s life. And she and her husband had not been blessed with children. They had only been married less than two years, and most of that had been spent apart, due to the war. Her husband’s estates went to one of his cousins, whom she had never known. When Prince Imrahil had asked her if she would bear the princess company, she had been glad to take the offer.

Here there would be no reminders of all she had lost.

As they went down a wide passageway, Arien noticed one of the side doors open, and a small figure came out, going in the opposite direction.

At first, Arien thought it was a little girl, until she got a better look at the face, and saw the feet beneath the skirts. She was young, but no child.

One of the pheriannath? She knew that some were going to the court of the High King, but she had not known there would be women among their number. She wondered if she would get to meet any of the halflings before they left.

Just then, Lady Eormangilda stopped, and threw open a wide door at the very end of the corridor.

“Here are your quarters, my Lady,” she said to the princess. “I hope that you will find all to your comfort.”

“I am sure that we will, my Lady,” answered Lothí riel.

Arien followed the princess into the spacious rooms. Perhaps this was where her new life would begin.

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Beregond smiled as the Elf approached. He straightened up, and so did Bergil.

“Prince Legolas,” he said, with a small bow. He turned to his son. “Bergil, I must speak with him.”

Bergil looked disappointed, and started to turn away, but Legolas stopped him.

“You may stay, Bergil. I know that you will be discreet.” He looked at Beregond, who nodded, relieved. He had not wanted to send his son away from his side so soon after their reunion.

“In truth, my Lord, the message from my prince is a simple one. By now, three-score Elves, from your homeland in the Greenwood, led by one named Galion will have arrived in Ithilien, where Prince Faramir will make them welcome until your arrival. I am to accompany you back there, as soon as you are ready to go.”

Legolas nodded. “We will leave Edoras with the others, and then strike across country, to travel at all speed.” He turned a smile upon Bergil, who watched, wide-eyed and questioning. “Is Bergil to accompany us?”

Beregond placed an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Yes, he is. He will be coming back to Ithilien with us, by the High King’s leave.”

Bergil flashed a grin at his father, and it was all to clear to both Elf and Man that it was only with effort that the boy was suppressing a loud cheer.

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Prince Amrothos and Captain Menildor were having a quiet word with Targon. “We will leave the day after tomorrow, if you think that the halflings--I mean the hobbits--will be ready so soon,” said the Prince.

Targon nodded. “Fredegar has told me they are eager to come to their destination. The only thing that may delay us is the health of one of the prisoner hobbits. However, their healer, Mistress Poppy, has told me he is much stronger now, and should be able to travel without any danger.”

Menildor said, “I find it hard to imagine any of their folk being so treacherous. Did you not say in your report that one of them is actually Sir Peregrin’s uncle?”

“Yes. Clodio Banks is brother to Sir Peregrin’s mother. I fear that all races are occasionally prone to greed and envy. Hobbits far less than the others, yet even among them there are sometimes to be found a few.” Targon arched a brow. “Ah, here are Fredegar and Berilac now.”

Freddy approached the group diffidently. He was beginning to feel his way through the manners of Men, and he knew that the Gondorians were much more formal than the Rohirrim.

Targon turned to the Prince. “Your Grace, may I present Fredegar son of Odovocar of the Shire, and Berilac son of Merimac of Buckland?” He looked at the hobbits. “Fredegar and Berilac, this is Prince Amrothos of Dol Amroth, and Captain Menildor of the Tower Guard.”

The hobbits bowed, and offered their service, in the way of the North.

“You are kin to the Ring-bearer?” asked the Prince.

Freddy nodded. “I am Frodo Baggins’ second cousin once removed on both sides of the family.”

And Berilac added “I’m Frodo’s first cousin once removed on the Brandybuck side, and second cousin twice removed on my mother’s side.”

The Prince blinked, but he remembered his father telling him to be wary of getting hobbits into a discussion of genealogy, so he merely said, “Indeed. It is an honour to meet you. I look forward to furthering our acquaintance on the road to Minas Tirith.”

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Viola cast a curious glance back at the ladies who were following Lady Eormangilda down the passage. She did not know, but she suspected that the taller one, who strode at Lady Eormangilda’s side was the Princess Lothíriel--she was so beautiful with her dark hair in her blue gown. The other lady might have dark hair as well, but it was bound up in a sort of cloth bag. She looked older and sadder than the princess. “I wonder will I get to meet them?” she muttered to herself. But she was on her way to fetch up the patient’s tray, and there was no time for that now.

In only a couple of days, they would be on the road once more, leaving Edoras behind.

What wonders awaited them in the High King’s City? And most of all, what would she and Mistress Poppy learn, to bring back to the Shire?