The Hunting Trip

Chapter Three: Keeping the Ruse

Wake up, you fool! he told himself. Wake up! People are expecting your company! You cannot lie here all day! He forced his eyes awake and was greeted by a very blurry world and piercing pain that penetrated the space behind his eye sockets. He groaned aloud as he rolled to his side, torn between rising and staying and at last pushed his feet to the floor and raised his body from the comfort of the bed. He felt dizzy for a moment until his eyes became focused. The pain in his head now disbursed to cover the entirety of his cranium. He shook it to dislodge the cobwebs that resided there and began to do a mental inventory of what had transpired the night before. Oh…oh no! Dear Valar, what have I done, he said to himself as he rose on shaky legs. But having stood, he felt his weariness lifting and found it within himself to actually laugh lightly at last night's ordeal.

He made his way to the wash basin and poured some cold water into the bowl, dousing his face in the cool of it. Looking up into the mirror, bloodshot eyes peered back at him. This agony is the price you must pay, he thought to himself as he tried to wash away the pained feelings in his head. Then quickly brushing back his hair and changing into fresh clothing, he packed away the rest of his meager belongings and placed the small bags on the bed. Pulling on his boots and fastening his belt, he departed the room and made his way down the stairs to where his friends would be gathered. He entered the dining room with little fanfare and made his way to the credenza where food was to be found. Few eyes looked his way, and he escaped any scrutiny for his tardiness. Fortunately, he was not as late as he had thought.

Actually, considering how he had felt the night before, Gimli knew he was really in not that bad of shape. The lightening headache rang through his skull, but in general, he did not really feel anything worse, and he knew that within a few hours, he would most likely be fine. Truth be told, he probably had been saved from a far more serious hangover by the need of Legolas for attendance last night. Gimli knew he owed the elf a small debt of gratitude. And a good deal of ribbing.

Glancing toward the table, he saw that Faramir was enjoying a hardy breakfast as a large forkful of potatoes and eggs slid into his mouth. The Prince seemed quite hale and Gimli recalled how Faramir had carefully nursed his drinks through the night. The Steward felt no pain for his pleasures.

The same probably could not be said for Legolas, who was absent from the table. Gimli did a double-take at that. He had half-expected to see the elf there. He knew that elves did not suffer as mortals, so it never occurred to him that Legolas would ever feel as Gimli did at that moment. However, with the evidence presented of the missing elf, Gimli began to imagine that perhaps Legolas was feeling something for last night. After all, Gimli realized, he could not remember having ever seen Legolas in a state as extreme as that one before. A pang of guilt dashed the dwarf momentarily for the unseen pain inflicted upon his friend. It truly had not been his intent to get Legolas quite so drunk. Still, Gimli smiled to himself, for it had been rather amusing to see the lofty self-control of the elf slip away, if only a little. Gimli had experienced that drink himself once, and he knew well its effects. If it was anything near what he had known, the dwarf didn't envy the elf for how he would feel today. And really, the dwarf thought, Legolas should be commended for maintaining as well as he had. Except toward the end. Gimli inwardly laughed, for despite the small sense of guilt that plagued him, he knew that last night had been a historical moment in their friendship, and guilt or not, he could not pass on the opportunity to harass his friend at least a little for his behavior. But only when Legolas was recovered sufficiently enough to fight back. Later that day perhaps. After all, that was the only fitting thing to do.

He lifted the lid to a chafing dish and peered into it. Sausages. His mouth began to water. In the next there were eggs. After that, fried potatoes. And beyond that were platters of various pastries and breads. Gimli quickly filled a plate, lamenting that the Hobbits were not there to see this wonderful spread of food. They would call it "Fit for a King," which of course, it was. His stomach rumbled in anticipation as he served himself some fruit. And then he spotted the thing he most desired: coffee! Ah yes, a tonic for his weary brain it was, and the aroma was a heavenly scent to him. Indeed, this was the kind of meal one needed before starting out on a leisurely adventure.

He sat himself at the table, bowing his head to Arwen as he did so. She was making quiet conversation with Faramir. At her side, Aragorn chewed on a roll as his eyes wore down a parchment he was reading. He barely had noticed when Gimli had entered the room, and only now glanced up at the dwarf on the opposite side of the table. He smiled in greeting, then glanced down again at his papers.

Gimli looked up as Eowyn advanced into the room. She was stunning in a simple riding frock and she carried a pair of smooth leather gloves. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid and was wound back again to the base of her neck. She looked fresh and alert and ready to ride. "Good morning!" she said with a smile.

"Good morning to you, Lady," Gimli said, rising from his seat at her entrance.

Eowyn raised a brow at his gentlemanly courtesy, nodding her head in answer. Gimli saw her eyes glance about to the other two males in the room. Neither had taken notice of her entrance and she shook her head in mild amusement. Smiling still, she said to no one in particular, "I trust you slept well?" She made her way to the sideboard and poured herself some tea. With a biscuit balanced on the edge of her saucer, she seated herself at her husband's side.

Sitting again, Gimli softly chuckled to himself as he muttered an aside, "And some rest ever still on."

Faramir looked up and saw the glint in Gimli's eye as he caught the words and their meaning. He laughed appreciably, nodding his head in agreement. Looking from dwarf to man, Eowyn caught the exchange between them and said in a mischievous tone, "You laugh, gentlemen, as if you have a secret. Has there been some evil brewing between you?"

"Perhaps not evil," snorted Gimli, "but a brew most definitely."

Again, Faramir smiled, laughing into his food.

As if reading their thoughts, Arwen spoke up, "Has anyone seen Legolas yet this morning? He is usually early to rise. It is not like him to sleep late."

With the question, Faramir and Gimli both broke into louder snorted laughter. The Prince's eyes revealed everything of the amusement his memory replayed, and the looks from Arwen and Eowyn were infected with some of his mirth. Even Aragorn looked up to take notice. With a bemused expression playing up on his face, he quizzically asked, "Faramir? Gimli? What brings these chortles? You two act like pranksters?" Then, looking about at the present company and registering the words that had been said, Aragorn's face grew more serious as the absence of Legolas was noticed. His look became suspicious with narrowed eyes. "Legolas is not present. Do you know something of that?" he asked. Then seeing the restrained laughter between the dwarf and man, his tone changed to mild amusement as he said, "What have you pulled on Legolas?"

Gimli was all innocence as he replied, "Pulled on Legolas? Nothing, I assure you. We only laugh because we shared happy moments with him last eve and we know he may not, er, be feeling, hm, at his best today." A newly constrained laugh was broaching his lips at this last statement.

Arwen's brow creased in a mixture of concern and amusement as she took in that answer. "And what would that mean?"

Suddenly, Gimli noticed how penetrating those eyes could be as they fixed on him, and he realized that not only hers, but all the eyes in the room were now looking at him. Unlike the glee that he had felt at the attentions he received the prior day, today he felt the mood as both curious and accusing, and at the moment he felt he might do better to find an excuse to leave. Heat began to rise in his chest, and he found himself squirming under Arwen's intense gaze.

Thankfully, Faramir came to his rescue. "The elf participated in drink last night," he said casually. A glib smile graced his features as he informed them, "Too much, I fear. He was really quite happy when we left him." The Prince looked quite pleased with himself at that moment.

"You left him?" Eowyn asked, joining Arwen with an interrogative stare.

"No, no, he is safe!" Faramir said as the smile slowly began to fade from his face. "We carried him home," he answered with innocent honesty.

It was the wrong answer.

"Carried him?" asked Arwen as her voice grew louder. She cornered the Prince with accusing eyes as she continued. His face began blush a deep crimson. "He was incapable of making it home on his own?" Then turning on Gimli, she said with unquestionable certainty, "What did you do to him?"

"Me?" answered the dwarf indignantly. This was not the conversation he expected over breakfast and he was beginning to lose his appetite as he found himself being looked at as if he were a menace to elves everywhere. He braced himself valiantly against the assault of the females' stares as he sputtered out, "Why am I to be held responsible for what Legolas chose to drink? It – it – it was his to decide…And, besides, he was warned. He drank it all the same! I did not hold the cup to his lips."

Up until that moment, Aragorn had yet to join the fray. But he did so with a vengeance and, unfortunately for the dwarf, he came in on the side of the offense. Joining Arwen and Eowyn in the interrogation, he directed a pointed question to the dwarf. "And what did he drink that would get him into a state as you describe? Surely not wine. That is his preferred beverage and I know well he can drink that with far more stamina than either you or I. He proved that to me on one occasion that I well recall."

Faramir snorted, perceiving a very good tale in that. "There is a story here, I can tell. What occasion do you speak of?" he asked with eager interest, a smile playing off his lips.

Aragorn broke into a grin at the memory. "Up in Haloel, long years ago. We aided some farmers in a small labor dispute there. It came out to our favor, and in celebration we spent a long night toasting our victory. I can say that while I was at my worst, Legolas never seemed to suffer. At least, I don't think that he suffered… if he did, I did not pay much notice as I was far too hung over to care!* He has a very high tolerance, that I know. I cannot even imagine what you could give him that would…unless…You didn't do that, did you? Gimli! You did not let him drink…?" Aragorn said as he added up his own conclusions. Faramir appeared to read the King's mind and meekly nodded confirmation to Aragorn's suspicions. "How could you let him do that?"

"What are you saying?" asked Arwen, confused by the path her husband's mind had taken.

Turning to his wife, he said, "Do you recall that beverage that they were serving at the Embassy Ball last winter?"

With what appeared to be complete understanding, and perhaps memories of her own to build upon, Arwen's expression grew as dark as her husband's. "Oh! Oh, Gimli! How could you?" she said as she threw her napkin at the dwarf.

Shrugging in his innocence, Gimli looked helpless to the attack. Looking across at Faramir, the dwarf saw the Steward enduring an equally evil glare from his wife. Sheepishly, the Prince was backing away.

Aragorn slyly smiled and shook his head at the dwarf and Gimli suspected it was only because he was not the target for the women's scorn himself. In his heart, the dwarf did not doubt that the King, had he been there, too would have found amusement in the elf's plight.

But Gimli knew they were right. It had been wrong to goad Legolas into his actions. Yet in his own defense, Gimli thought, The elf surely had experience enough to know his own limits. Didn't he? Grimly, he answered himself. Perhaps not, for Gimli had to concede that Legolas had not known of the drink before yesterday and the elf obviously had not had experience with libations of this type to gauge his own response. He knew Legolas preferred wine and drinks of the lighter sort. And while there was nothing in the drink that could cause lasting harm to the elf, Gimli should have confessed his knowledge of the drink's contents so Legolas could at least have made an informed decision. But he had not and Gimli knew that had been wrong. With a rushing wave of protective zeal, the dwarf berated himself for not discerning the elf's innocence in this matter. Legolas had trusted him. And while the elf may well have been the elder between them, his life was far more sheltered when it came to understanding the pleasures of men. It was an area Legolas did not know well and Gimli was reminded that often he had need to act as Legolas' protector, asked for or not. With guilt pressing in on him, he knew he had failed his friend last night. He had been the one to lead Legolas into the tavern, and he had been the one to push the elf to participate in a beverage not of his own choice. Regretfully now, he knew instead of mercilessly teasing his comrade for his very amusing and humiliating behavior, the dwarf would need to apologize for his own worthless actions. That was the only fitting thing to do. And he would do it, when the elf was fully recovered. In a day or two. Or three.

Glancing up at the ladies, Gimli smiled his sweetest smile and tried to wile some of his own charm to break the mood. Unfortunately, from the returned glares, they were having none of it. Gimli scowled. It seemed once again that Legolas' power over women prevailed. Gimli shook his head, for the elf's encounters with females over the years had long perplexed him and the galling truth was the elf seemed oblivious to the knowledge that he did this. Yet Gimli knew it to be a fact. He had seen it more than once, this ability of the elf to bring females of all species to want to hover and protect him. The dwarf did not understand it. And Legolas certainly did not encourage it. While polite through and through, the former Prince of Mirkwood treated all females relatively the same, like a sister or a friend. Little did the elf know the throngs of women who would gladly throw themselves at his feet, if he only deigned to favor them with his notice. And here it was once again, in the protective gestures of Arwen and Eowyn. Their husbands hardly noticed, and Gimli supposed that the men were not of jealous natures. And then, too, he surmised, they probably already knew nothing more would come of it beyond a brotherly affection. Sighing to himself, Gimli thought, For someone who is not even present, the elf has most notably made himself known.

Aragorn looked again at his papers, then tapping at the notes he said to Faramir, "Have you seen the reports from the Poros Contingent? They claim there are large numbers of Haradhrim moving into their boundaries." Gimli sighed in relief as the attention in the room moved away from his actions.

Placing her hand on the table before her, Eowyn sat up straighter. Glancing from Aragorn to Faramir she said with an imploring voice, "Oh please, kindly sirs, we had agreed no conversations of state matter on this holiday."

Placing his hand over hers, Faramir said, "But the holiday has yet to begin." Seeing this did not placate her, he squeezed her hand as he gave her a charming smile. "Besides," he said, "this will be the last of it you shall hear, I promise."

"Promises," she muttered knowingly as she rolled her eyes in answer. But grimly she smiled, "Very well, talk. Say what you will on the Haradhrim and be done with it. We well know their dispute is born on jealousies for what the others might have. The men of Poros are in want of the mineral rights established by the Harad long years ago, and the Haradhrim want to share power in governing the region. It could not be simpler since they choose to use their numbers to influence the bodies that rule."

"And yet the Poros Contingent is petitioning us to send military to the area to reinforce their stance," Aragorn pointed out to Faramir and Eowyn both. He did not seem to be surprised by Eowyn's knowledge of the subject. "They say nothing of mineral rights here."

Faramir opened his mouth to speak, but the words that answered were not his. "That is because they know if you force the Haradhrim from the region, they stand a chance of sweeping in and reclaiming the rights of those who would be usurped," Eowyn informed the King. "Gondor also holds a percentage of the mineral rights in the area. You could relinquish a portion and offer it to bid within the Poros Contingent. Tariffs need not increase substantially if the difference can be made up in new trade. Of course, you would need conditions…"

"…conditions that Poros open a number of seats to the Haradhrim delegation. Yes, this I can see," said Aragorn nodding, then directed his gaze at Faramir as he said, "So we ignore the petition for military support?"

"Not necessarily," chimed Eowyn. Gimli could see Faramir frown slightly in her direction as she stepped into the answer he was about to give. Eowyn suddenly realized she was dominating the questioned answers and blushed as she said, "Pardon, Your Majesty. I seem to be stepping out of my place. Forgive me."

Faramir looked sidelong at her, as if he was unsure it was safe yet to speak, but seeing her eyes downcast, he said to his King, "Perhaps you should send in military to assure the free election of the Haradhrim. I do not think the Poros Contingent will give those seats up freely unless they know you mean to back up the Haradhrim. Otherwise they might try to slant the council with officials that were bought in their favor."

Eowyn's eyes shot up, and it became apparent she was not done. "I have one other thought on the subject, if you would want to hear it, Your Majesty," she said with all formality. Faramir leaned back in his seat as if he had no choice to but to surrender all authority on the subject to her. An amused smile crossed his face on his wife's behalf.

But Aragorn seemed undaunted by Eowyn's direct knowledge of topics that he would normally share only with Faramir and he answered her with a sarcastic smile. "It seems I cannot refrain you from speaking on this particular state matter, especially on a holiday. Please, favor me with your thoughts."

She smiled at his mockery, but went on all the same. "The need goes much more beyond rights and government seats. There is prejudice in Poros. One group vying against the other over issues of race. The real demon to be fought is that. I would offer to you that means of breaking those barriers be found. The schools are a fine example. The Haradhrim children have not been allowed to study along with the children of Poros. Segregation is rampant and the children of Harad are the ones to suffer. They are kept back only because of their race. There too with the merchants. Goods from each people are readily needed, and yet they do not openly trade, and a Black Market is dominant among the citizenry. I think these are the things that should be focused on to remedy the strife in the region."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed as he thought on this, his mood growing more serious. Nodding his head in approval, he said, "I agree. But further study should be made before real action can be taken." Turning his gaze again on Faramir, he said, "When this holiday is past, I would like for you to visit Poros and bring me back some recommendations for what we can do there. I do not think we would want to alter the structure significantly, but I do think we can work towards a less prejudicial future in the region."

Eowyn quietly gasped at this. "No," she said flatly.

"Pardon?" said Faramir, looking puzzled at her response.

Eowyn sat up rigidly. "No," she said again, an alarmed expression making her face grave. "Please, Your Majesty, do not send him away. He…I – I do not wish–" Her expression was troubled, as she broke off her thought, realizing that she had again overstepped her bounds.

"Eowyn…" Faramir quietly scolded, glancing with embarrassment toward the King.

"I could go," said a voice that had not been heard yet in this part of the conversation. All eyes turned to Arwen as she repeated, "I think I should be the one to go."

"Arwen?" said the King in response.

"I could be your emissary, Estel. It would be prudent, do you not think? I could accompany the additional military, and stay through the duration of the elections while I gather my recommendations. My presence there, as a lady, would be seen as an honorary one, a gesture of peace, not a forced issue such as may be seen with that of a man in Faramir's position. If fashioned cleverly enough, with delicacy and charm, of which I so aptly am graced," she said with a mocking full smile, "I think they would be far more receptive to my querries. And I think, being a woman, I could have access to areas, such as the schools and merchant areas, that they would be more reluctant to show a man. I think it would be wise if you chose me," she said firmly.

But Aragorn's expression conveyed that he was not nearly as convinced. He shook his head as he said, "But you already have more than enough to keep you busy here. Do not forget that the Nimrais Governors will be visiting us over the coming months. There is much to be done in preparation for their various arrivals."

To Gimli's careful observation, Arwen's face froze momentarily as she registered this slight to her offer. The dwarf felt certain that he saw, in that brief moment, a glimmer of reproach before her expression softened and her lilting voice said, "I have much assistance on that task, Estel, and it is well under control. I could very easily delegate the Nimrain preparations to my staff. It would not be difficult and that would leave me plenty of time to be available for the Poros situation."

The tension in the room was nearly palpable, and Gimli could see there was something unspoken at play between the King and Queen of Gondor. Aragorn continued to hesitate, and sensing that this could not end well, Gimli piped in, "Mayhap Eowyn is right. This discussion does not involve me, and I tire of hearing it. Further, it seems it is a matter that will wait until our return. Could you not table it until a later day?"

With a small sigh of relief, Aragorn nodded to the dwarf as if in thanks. "You are right, my friend. Forgive us for not considering your interest in these issues. Let us change this discussion to one that concerns us all. Shall we talk on our plans?"

Eowyn's mood seemed to brighten at this suggestion, though Arwen seemed still locked in the prior conversation. Rising from the table, and drawing attention to himself, Gimli crossed the room to return to the sideboard. In an attempt to ease the mood in the room, he said, "So we head out this morning and make for the realm of the elves in Ithilien. We should arrive there long ere nightfall, is that not correct?"

"That was my understanding," said Legolas as he swept into the room. Bowing slightly to all, seemingly unscathed, he said, "That is, if we are not further delayed. My apologies for my tardiness. I will take little time yet, and we may be on our way." Turning his back on them, Legolas seemed focused on the food at the buffet. Arwen smiled in relief to see their friend well, and Aragorn nodded as if he had never had doubt.

But Gimli gawked at the elf's appearance. Although his color seemed vaguely off, a bit paler than usual, Legolas appeared none the worse for his merrymaking. As certain as the dwarf had earlier been about the elf not suffering, after the grilling he had received and his own deep regrets, he had grown convinced that just the opposite would be true. And now he was quite startled to see that his original presumption had indeed been true. Guilt had been seriously playing on Gimli's mind, and a chuckle of relief could not help but release itself from his aching conscience. The dwarf recovered from his shock quickly and with a glad hand, clapped his friend's back. With a small amount of glee for his own reprieve, he smiled to himself as he realized that perhaps he need not apologize after all. So like the elf to bounce back like that. No effect did it have, he thought happily. That was, until he saw the Legolas' hand shake as the elf reached for a roll. Fortunately, none of the others could see it from the angle in which he stood. But Gimli was standing at his side and couldn't miss it. The dwarf then realized it was a sham. Legolas indeed was unwell. But Gimli's mood took a turn and instead of new pity and guilt rushing in as it should have, a dark mirth for his friend's misery plucked the dwarf. The urge to poke at the elf's pretense of a healthy façade grew strong in him and he knew that had Legolas been true to his feelings, and shown that he really was unwell, the dwarf may have acted much differently. However, given these new circumstances, and though he knew it was wrong, that he should refrain from doing what he was about to do, Gimli found he could not help himself. He smiled at his new challenge. Since Legolas chose to act outwardly intact, it was only fair game for Gimli to try and inwardly break that guise. To his mind, that was the only fitting thing to do. Especially since the elf was pretending to be fully recovered. With a mocking voice, he said, "So Legless, will there be drinking and merriment tonight?"

Turning his face to the dwarf, the elf looked momentarily startled, and Gimli realized in that instant that his friend had not held him in contempt for the previous nights activities. That is, until now. Gimli shuddered slightly as he saw the elf's eyes narrow, as if in warning, and he wondered what he had gotten himself into. It was a small move, and barely discernible to anyone but the dwarf. But the challenge had been seen, and Gimli had no choice but to follow through. Seeing now the slight puffiness beneath Legolas' eyes, and his less than wholesome pallor, a twinge of guilt played on Gimli again. But it was swiftly dashed away as Legolas smiled far too innocently at his friend. Speaking in general to reach the ears of the group, but keeping his eyes directed specifically at Gimli, he answered, "Nothing quite up to the standards set by last night, my friend. But if I have my way, I will see that you are delivered with twice the mirth that I experienced, and only then will I be satisfied that you have seen the hospitality of the Elves in Doro Lanthiron**." Gimli glanced about the room, wondering if anyone else had read that statement as a personal threat to the dwarf. Apparently not.

Seeing that indeed the elf was up to the challenge, the dwarf went on. There was no turning back now. "And song? You sang a marvelous song the other day." Faramir began to smirk, though he lowered his head so as not to be seen. "Can we hope that you will oblige us with a repeat performance of it this evening?" the dwarf asked.

"I have many interesting tunes within my memories, friend Gimli." The elf said the words rather fiercely. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to sing a few stanzas of the one you are thinking and I could complete it for you. Properly," Legolas said in challenge, fire sparking in his blue eyes.

Gimli was torn. He knew the elf would merely turn the joke back on the dwarf if he dared try and sing the song as Legolas had, for Gimli knew the song had a more innocent nature when sung as it truly was meant to be heard. He could foresee clearly the further scorn of ladies toward him when they heard Legolas' elven version in contrast to the tavern rendition. And yet the dwarf wasn't ready to concede just yet. "I could not do it justice and I am sure you know exactly which tune I mean. It was unique as it was sung in a fashion that was far more suggestive than that of most elven songs. I recall it being refreshingly different from one you might typically sing, Legless, er, I mean, Legolas."

Legolas was unflinching in his response, and though the eyes of their friends were upon them, he seemed perfectly at ease as he ignored the dwarf's jibes. However, behind his eyes, the dwarf could see a penetrating glare in full regalia. Still, Legolas maintained his self-possession. He said, "But I recall a very boisterous dwarven tune that you sang only recently. Mayhap you will share it with us as a prelude to my own rendering? I am sure the ladies would enjoy it immensely." Smiling as if that were the end, the elf turned again to face the serving table.

The dwarf growled deep and low as he cursed the elf. Legolas knew him too well. Gimli would never expose the ears of the ladies to such coarse words. Grumbling to himself, he tried to think of a way still to throw the elf off his base. He would not allow a decidedly hung over elf to best him. Only one thing came to mind at the moment, and he knew it was childish, and a wager at that, but from the color of Legolas' skin, he thought it could conceivably work. He recalled how his own stomach reacted on occasions like these, and also how, in this state, the workings of the brain had the ability to exaggerate food texture and quality. Looking about at the assortment of choices on the table, he picked his weapon.

"Sausage, Legolas?" he asked, holding a link up directly before the elf. Seeing he momentarily had Legolas' attention, he bit into it. What followed was pure artistry in acting skills. Making a gruesomely exaggerated face, as if he had taken in something horribly repulsive, the dwarf spit the food back out into a napkin. Then pretending to act discreet, he glanced back into the napkin, to investigate the offending substance further. Quietly, Gimli muttered to himself, as if he intended no one else to hear his words, although in truth he fully intended that the elf should hear every word. He said, "Uch, what is that? Ew! Vulgar… gristle!"

The elf turned a shade of green as his shoulder hunched forward choking back a gag reflex. The mark was made and Gimli smiled maliciously. Again, no one else saw it, and Gimli was satisfied that while diminishing Legolas' poise, he had kept the elf's ruse in check.

Smiling as he moved on, Gimli said to the group in common, "And tomorrow we head north to Henneth Annûn, where thissuch," he said pointing his gaze at the elf as he recalled the ill-conceived word, "we lose your pleasant company." He bowed his head to the ladies.

"Only during the hours of the day that you choose to leave us," said Arwen ignoring the strange new word. She reached over and touched Aragorn's hand. "Long enough for you to feel your desires to conquer the wild sated. What is it you will be hunting?"

"Black-tail," came Aragorn's answer.

"What?" said Eowen. "No orc? Or what was that other," she said as she gazed at Faramir with playful eyes, "Mûmak?"

Faramir laughed. "No, my dear. Neither of those creatures has been seen in Northern Ithilien for a number of years. The elves have been successful in ridding it of orcs, and I am afraid my forces chased off the last seen oliphaunt ere the war even ended. We will have to be satisfied shooting for buck."

"Pity," said Arwen playfully. "I should have liked a stuffed oliphaunt head mounted on our wall."

"But you would not care for a stuffed orc head as well?" asked Faramir, continuing the jest as a twinkle glimmered in his eye.

"Already have one," came Arwen's teasing laugh in answer.

"And I thought we were the only ones," retorted Faramir with another laugh.

"Excuse me," said Legolas as he quickly fled the room.

Everyone watched him exit.

"I believe it was the talk of the orc heads that did it," Aragorn said, nodding toward Faramir in his role in taking down Legolas' guise. "Although the sausage was a nice touch," he said grinning mischievously at Gimli, then asked, "Thissuch?"

Gimli chuckled to himself. Trust Faramir to add the finishing touches to what he himself had started. But then he noticed Eowyn's color change as she too pushed herself away from the table. "Excuse me," she said, repeating Legolas' words as she quickly left the room, and Gimli surmised that the lady had fled to administer aid to the elf. Shaking his head, he wondered again how the elf so easily managed to sway the hearts of females. If he had a mind to do it, oh, the number of women that elf could get, thought Gimli.