10.

“Tell me, Legolas,” said Aragorn at length, when the light of the lamps had darkened and the decanter of wine emptied, and all the ships of the fleet had been redesigned and redecorated, “tell me, how comes all this about?  A Dwarf and an Elf and a Hobbit travel to a tournament run by kings of Men; moreover the Hobbit, ever a free creature, calls the Elf ‘Master’ and is not rebuked for his confidence!  Never in my long years have I seen such a thing, and it is the all the more astonishing to me, that it should be you, my friend, who has allowed himself to be drawn into this, who have always been so sensible before.”

            “You are not the only one who is astonished!” smiled Legolas.  He sat upon the divan beside Gimli, who was drowsing contentedly; on the Elf’s lap lay the slumbering form of the Hobbit.  In the dim light the Elf’s doublet seemed golden not white, and his hair like a resplendent sun adorned his head.  With his long white hand he caressed the Hobbit’s hair, twining the brown tendrils about his fingers.  “I have been in this particular state of affairs for nigh on five months, and it ceases not to amaze and confound me that Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood has taken for himself a halfling-servant.”

            “The joust, then, does not amaze you?” asked Faramir, gently teasing.

            “Well, a little, perhaps,” Legolas admitted.  “And Gimli and Bandobras may tell you that the whole situation was their idea, yet you must remember it was I who saw it to fruition by my efforts –  by capacities both pecuniary and martial.”

            “I am surprised your father allowed it,” smiled Arwen.

            “Allowed it!” laughed Legolas.  “My Lady Undómiel, he persuaded me to follow through with it!  His sole grievance, he complained to me, was that he himself would be unable to partake in the gaiety himself, as he felt it would be actions unfitting his royal standing.”  Smiling still, Legolas looked down upon the sleeping Hobbit, who had turned over and flung his arms out beside him, breathing deeply through his rosy lips.  “And also, as he persuaded my mother, it would seem less like benevolence and more like triumph to deliver up to King Elessar the gold, when his son had romped through the ranks of mortal knights, trouncing them completely.”

            “Said he that?” asked Faramir, laughing.

            “Aye, or words to that effect; I remember not exactly,” said Legolas.  “Anyway I hope to do well, and to lay my trophy before him as tribute, or at least not to acquit myself too disgracefully.  My mother, of course, will be well enough pleased if I do not get my head knocked off by some stray lance, but I do fear me my father will be satisfied with nothing less than the grand prize laid at his feet when he arrives, these few days hence.”  He shook his shining head and sighed.  “How I wish I were more skilled at the barrier!  Had it been pike or even halberd, I would feel more hopeful, but the sword is not my domain.”

            “You make up your failings in the ring by your prowess at the tilt,” Éowyn assured him.

            “You do, indeed,” agreed Aragorn, nodding.  “Tell me, Legolas, where did you learn to joust so?  Was it in some long-forgotten century, an age or so ago?  I had no idea you were so skilled at this art, nor that it was practiced at all amongst the Eldar of the forests.”

            “It is not,” said Legolas.  “I had never jousted before in all my days, not until four months ago, when Gimli, Bandobras and I camped along the edge of the Great River after quitting Esgaroth.”

            Hearing his name Bandobras stirred, and not opening his eyes said in a slurred voice, “Mother?”  Legolas hushed him, stroking his head, and the Hobbit sighed deeply and returned to profound slumber. 

            “He looks so young,” said Faramir in wonder, shaking his head.  “How old is he?”

            “Fifteen,” said Legolas sadly; “amongst the Little People a very young age indeed – much too young to be so far from home, amid folk far older and stronger, and all of them strange to him.  Will you pardon me, my lords and ladies, whilst I place him upon his cot?  He tires easily, and assumes far too many tasks upon himself that would be better fitting a larger and more robust person.”  So saying Legolas rose with the halfling in his arms, and disappeared behind a partition into the back of the tent.

            Gimli had stirred when his friend had arisen from the divan, and he sat up and stifled a yawn.  “Ah – oh – ah!” he said, “my pardon to all of you!  That was a heavy meal, and I have had too much wine!  So has Legolas taken the child to bed?  He ought not to allow him to wear himself out with all this cooking and work – though if Legolas curbed Bandy’s tongue somewhat, the little one would tire out less quickly.  But Bandy insists that he lavish upon Legolas all the luxury and fine goods he can procure, and Legolas denies him nothing – nothing at all; really it is quite troublesome, for the Hobbit is becoming insufferable.”

            “You seemed to enjoy the meal, though,” Arwen said with a smile.

            “Well, he can cook,” admitted Gimli; “all Hobbits can cook.  And I have to confess it’s refreshing to eat so well, after all that cram and nuts and stringy, fire-roasted squirrel we’ve been eating these past few months.  But he’s spending money as though we had naught to do but dig it up at the roots of trees like truffles!  I cannot even tell you how much he has spent since we arrived, between bribing the Quartermaster and the grocers, and buying up every extravagance and delicacy available in Osgiliath, or perhaps even in Ithilien.  Do you know, he served us caviar – caviar, mind you, all the way from Eryn Vorn – upon toast made from cashew nuts, just yesterday?  Have you any idea what that must have cost him?  Tasty, though,” he finished, with a reminiscent sigh.  “Said he wanted to serve it tonight, but there wouldn’t have been enough for everyone to have gotten more than the merest mouthful, and the man who had delivered it to the grocer had none left.  So we ate it, we three, and I’m not sure if Legolas even cared what it cost, for Bandy was so pleased with himself for having obtained it.”

            “How is it the halfling came into Legolas’ service?” asked Éowyn curiously.  “I did not think the Little Folk would swear their allegiance so, though I know of two of them who did, and it seemed to me a strange thing for folk so free to thus constrain themselves willingly.  Was it through love, or in the manner of an apprenticeship?”

            “It is actually in the manner of a debt,” explained Gimli, going to the sideboard and fetching another decanter of wine, refilling their goblets as he spoke.  “I was not with them at the time, but both Legolas and Bandy agree that when Legolas found him, he was in very straited means, and had taken up with a roving band of Dwarves – not respectable Dwarves at all, it pains me to admit, but miners from the Iron Hills – Óli and Gáin and Dwóri and their folk – grasping, unfriendly, greedy types, that give us reputable Dwarves a bad name.  They had taken him on as a baggage-handler in Bree, taking his money from him and telling him it was for safe-keeping; yet when he was left alone, and was set upon by thieves in a village near Carrock, the Dwarves demanded of him the value of the goods stolen, though they knew full well he could not produce it.  So they told him he had to work for them until his debt to them was repaid, and they used him rather cruelly, I fear, for when Legolas came upon them on the Elven road through Eryn Lasgalen, Bandy was thin and cold and very dirty, and a little more bruised than a few tumbles down a hillock would account for.  I am not certain what exactly Legolas said to them, for he refuses to tell me, and Bandy says he spoke in Dwarvish, a language the Hobbit does not understand but one at which Legolas has become very proficient, particularly with the less polite invectives.  But Bandy says Legolas harangued them for a full half-hour, in a very threatening tone, and as he was dressed in his royal trappings and not the tunic and hose of a hunter he was apparently able to cow them completely.  Then he paid them what he thought was a fair price for the goods that had been stolen, and took Bandy upon his horse with him, and brought him to the Elven King’s palace.

            “He thought, I suppose, that he could deliver Bandy to some visiting Men, or perhaps leave him with Edlothiel his mother, but by the time I got to Thranduil’s house Bandy had decided to swear fealty to Legolas, so great was his gratitude and esteem for him.  Legolas fought against it with all his might; but such were the potency of Bandy’s arguments, and so continuously did he wear him down with platitudes and expressions of devotion, that at last Thranduil and I convinced Legolas to take him on, in pity for the Hobbit’s pleas, and as payment of his debt of honor to him.  At last Legolas conceded, though he objected greatly to being saddled with so young a charge, and would accept him only for a limited time – a year and a day, he said.  So Bandy was taken to Thranduil’s throne room, and the king sat his son upon a high seat and gave to the Hobbit a small sword, and there before the entire assembly, much to Legolas’ consternation, Bandobras son of Reginard became the esquire of the Prince of Mirkwood for a year and a day, to serve and to obey him, and Legolas had to swear to protect and to teach him.  I am sure there was much mirth among the assembled Elves that day, though they restrained themselves admirably, seeing how awkwardly their prince was placed, and also having grown to love the little imp themselves, despite his atrocious behavior.”

            “It is odd to me, and also a little disconcerting,” said Aragorn, “that a Hobbit so young and inexperienced would have been in the company of a group of such Dwarves, even if he is a Took.  How did that come to pass?”

            “Well, that we do not know,” admitted Gimli, “not for want of asking, but because he will not tell us.  It is my opinion, and Legolas admits I am probably right, that Bandy is a runaway, and left home seeking adventure and good fortune, though it is certainly unlucky he happened first upon that particular band of Dwarves at the time.”

            “I think not,” said Éowyn; “had he not taken up with them, surely you and Legolas would never have taken him into your service.”

            “I meant, unlucky for me, not for him,” rejoined Gimli.  “And do not lay him as a burden upon my shoulders!  He is Legolas’ responsibility, not mine.  And I must admit, though Legolas protested exceedingly against taking Bandy as a servant, he has been very kind to him, speaking to him gently and allowing him his indulgences – just spoiling him, in my opinion, though it seems to me that Bandy loves him now more fiercely than ever, and there is naught the little one would not do for Legolas – nay, not even lay down his life; I am sure Bandy would quite happily die for him, if he but asked.”

            At this point Legolas came back into the room, carefully shutting the partition behind him so the curtain-rings would not clatter too loudly and disturb his young charge.  “He is asleep,” he told Gimli; “so deeply asleep he did not even wake when I changed him out of his tunic and into his night shirt.  And I called out to the scullery-girl to go home; she has already been well-paid.  I wish Bandobras did not feel it necessary to concoct such involved meals for us – it quite tires him out, and he is not yet vigorous enough, in my opinion.”

            “Hobbits are tough,” said Aragorn; “remember Frodo and Sam in Mordor!”

            “Frodo and Samwise were full-grown, and better experienced,” said Legolas, sitting down next to Gimli.  “Bandobras is a child, and was so thin and pale when I found him I almost mistook him for an Elfling.  It is not right for a Hobbit to be so malnourished; they should be fat and merry.”  He shook his head.  “Greatly do I desire to deliver him up to his people!  Yet it would not be fitting of me to do so until he is fully recovered from his ordeal.  I would not have his family think me a harsh master.”

            “I think there is very little risk of that,” said Gimli dryly; “they have but to observe you one hour, and they will see you deny him nothing, and allow him every lenience.”

            “Well, as I said to you before, Gimli, had you but taken my side against  – “

            “Yes, yes, yes, I know!” exclaimed Gimli in sudden wrath.  “I have no one but myself to blame in this.  Very well, have it your way; spoil him all you like!  And you may exact this revenge upon me, my friend, to see how much it vexes me!”

            Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir and Éowyn all laughed, and Legolas smiled; Gimli tried to look cross, but failed as always.

            “Well, if he but loves you, his service to you will be unstained by selfish considerations,” said Faramir to Legolas.  “Since he is so young, and you have his confidence but for a little while, I do not see what harm there could be in consenting to him his little caprices.  But now that the riddle of the Hobbit is answered, can you satisfy our curiosity further?  How came you to my Grand Tournament, and in such marvelous armour?”

            “And whence came your destrier?” asked Éowyn eagerly, eyes shining.  “What a horse he is!  I would greatly desire to breed him with some of my mares, to strengthen the hindquarters of their young.”

            “Well, since you wish it, my lady, I cannot deny you; after all, I ride still upon the horse your brother gave me,” said Legolas.  “Hatchet is a terrible horse, but quite enjoyable to ride; he is untamed and proud and difficult.  Arod is very meek and does my bidding without question.  It is an interesting contrast.”

            “And the armour?” asked Aragorn.  “It is of Dwarven make, of that I am certain; how is it you find yourself arrayed thus?”

            “Ah!” said Gimli, taking a deep drink of his wine.  “That is the armour commissioned of my father Glóin by King Brand of Dale, for his son when he was but a young man, and desirous of impressing some lady of a distant court; but before the set could be delivered, war fell upon the folk of Erebor and Dale, and Brand was slain, and Dáin too.  For a while the armour lay forgotten in the vaults of Erebor, and when at last it was remembered by my father and his workers, Brand’s son Girion had no longer any interest in it, or indeed the funds with which to buy it; besides that he had grown into a man deep-chested and broad-shouldered, and the pauldrons were far too small.  We could have fixed it, I suppose, but really it was made for a slimmer man, and anyway as I said Girion no longer desired it.

            “I went from Aglarond to Erebor to visit my father and he showed it me, saying no one would claim it, and asking if there were some southern lord who would put it to its proper use.  I told him I would consider it for a while, and after several days I traveled with various companions to Mirkwood to visit Legolas; it was there I met Bandy.  The ensuing madness, which is the only result of foregathering with a Took, drove thoughts of the armour completely from my mind, until we had taken Bandy to Erebor to deliver his complaint to King Thorin against Óli.  It was there the Men of Dale and Esgaroth told us about the Grand Tournament in Ithilien, under Lord Faramir, and the idea of the games was so foremost in Bandy’s thoughts that, when I showed the armour to him and Legolas, he said it would be perfect for his Master to wear in the tournament.”

            “And from that point on,” broke in Legolas, with a grim smile, “no protest of mine could gainsay the suggestion, either to Bandobras or Gimli, that such a thing was undoable, or ought to be; they asked me to try on the armour, and when I refused they bullied me into it by sundry means.  Then of course the sight of me encased in all that steel enflamed them further, and they began to speak of the tournament as though my winning it were a certainty, though I had not yet even deigned to enter it!”

            “And I knew your fate was sealed, my friend,” said Gimli, “when Bandy put his hands on your knee, and looked up at you so beseechingly, and begged and begged you to compete, for he so greatly wanted to see you win honour and glory.  I could see even before then he had but to desire something and you would cede it.”

            “So he does!” agreed Legolas, smiling.  “Though as to winning honour and glory, I am not confident I can deliver that up to him yet.  Anyway, I gave to Bandobras the task of procuring goods and waggons, and we traveled back through Eryn Lasgalen to the Old Ford, where we found Hatchet; Arod, I am sorry to say, my Lady Éowyn, was unable to bear the load of shaffron, crinet, crupper and peytral.  It was far too heavy for him, since he also had to bear me in my armour, and he is a light cavalry horse; brave and sure-footed, but not strong enough for such a weight.  And as to Hatchet’s letters patents I can say they are surely as counterfeit as my own!  He is cold-blooded, as you can tell from his feet and head, but he is certainly no better than half farm horse.  He pleased me, though, with his eagerness and intelligence, and was unquestionably strong, though not very fast, so Gimli fit the armour to him, and gave him the fullered shoes.  Then we stopped for a while so I could learn to joust, and my friends, if ever you feel the need to lift your spirits by some jest, remind yourselves of how ridiculous I must have looked, prince of Elves though I am, missing each mark as we charged, or falling from Hatchet’s back, clattering to the ground like discarded scrap metal!  It is more difficult than it looks.”

            “Ah, you were not so bad,” said Gimli, waving one hand.  “You only fell twice, and that second time was certainly Hatchet’s fault, charging so madly at the quintain as he did.  In truth it took you but a week to become skilled at striking the quintain and not being knocked from the numnah in the process.  He would not learn to joust in full tack,” he explained to Éowyn, “he said Hatchet did not like the saddle sheets.  It was only the need to have something to attach the peytral and cruppers to that he agreed to use a saddle at all.  Do you see how he even spoils his beasts?  Even the mules that pull our waggons love him!”

            “Causing something to love him is not necessarily spoiling,” said Aragorn, laughing and draining his goblet.  “Now, Legolas, tell me one last thing and then we must quit you:  from whom did you procure your letters patents?  I saw them, when Belecthor showed the list to me; they are quite convincing.”

            Legolas looked a little shamefaced at this, but Gimli chuckled loudly and said, “He made them himself, of course, Aragorn!  Bandy bought the parchment and paint-pots in Esgaroth, and he and his little esquire spent quite a cheery afternoon concocting his coat of arms and drawing up a list of his ancestors.  It helps, I suppose, knowing the past hundred generations of the nobility of Dale.”

            “Well do I remember Dale as it was of old,” said Legolas, his fair face filled with regret, “before you were born or thought of, Gimli, before the dragon came with terror and fire.  And well do I remember the knights who fell beneath Smaug’s breath, for many of them were friends of mine and of my father’s.  Some of them I sought to honour in my patents of nobility, by adding them to the list of the ancestors of Lasgalen of Dale.”

            “I wonder how honoured they would feel,” said Aragorn, with a dour smile.  “After all, you have entered illegally, no matter what Belecthor might say, using their names as keys to open a lock upon your own whims.”

            “The dragon designs and runes upon the armour itself remind me of them,” said Legolas sorrowfully.  “Smaug struck them down, consuming them with flame and destroying their homes.  I can recite all their names, and the names of their wives and children, for they were dear to me.  Is that not honour enough, King Elessar?”

            “It is,” said Aragorn, reaching out to take his friend’s hand.  “I apologize, Legolas Greenleaf!  I knew not the people of Dale were so cherished by you.  Well do you carry the name of their city upon your letters patents; when your deeds here are told in the halls of King Girion, I am certain all shall be pleased and grateful.”

            “That will depend greatly upon how well I fare at the hands of your knights!” said Legolas with a sigh.  “The lists are drawn up for the morrow, are they not, Lord Faramir?”

            “They are,” said Faramir, smiling; “I have prevailed upon Belecthor to show it to me.  You are to fight Brytta of Rohan in the ring, and follow up with him in the lists; you two are third in foot-combat, first at the joust.”

            “Who fights first in the foot-combat?”

            “Vorondil of Lossarnach and Cirien of Langstrand, and the winner fights Brytta,” said Faramir.  “I must warn you, my friend Lasgalen of Dale, that Brytta is an aggressive and experienced warrior; you must be careful with him, for I would not have you too severely bruised to joust.  He will almost certainly best you in the barriers, for few men can stand against him, but I am sure you can exact your revenge upon him at the tilt.”

            “You sound so certain!” smiled Legolas.  “He is a man of Rohan; I am sure he jousts better than any knight I have met so far.”

            “Not good enough, though, I am certain,” said Éowyn.  “I have confidence in my champion, that he will defeat even my kinsman, despite his skills upon his horse.  And anyway he has overburdened the destrier with full armour, not the trapper he is used to; he will be slow to the charge.”

            “Peace, Lady Éowyn!” said Aragorn, rising to go.  “It is not seemly to give your champion an unfair advantage over his foes.  Someone might think you had wagered upon him.”

            “I have,” said Éowyn, also rising and facing the king.  “I have wagered my honour upon Lasgalen of Dale, and I cannot but win.”