Chapter 4: Returning to the Fray

Meanwhile, Sam was having a difficult time weeding Legolas' ire to the point where he might return. Half an hour after finding the Prince, he had only just managed to calm Legolas to stand still, instead of pacing along a rather narrow and high-up (at least to the Hobbit's perspective) ledge that overlooked the Western cliffs and beach of Valinor.

I might be able to get him to go back, thought Sam, but bugger if I'll be the one to get the tale from him. Would be fun, though. Me, getting that whopping great tale from 'im. But as the Gaffer always tells me, 'It's not up to you to make 'em bloom. You're just the one to make the ground nice and ready.'

"But Mr. Legolas..."

"Sam, out of curiousity, how long will it take you to call me just by my name?"

"Sir? ... Oh, err, Legolas? Right, sorry. But it's just a tale. We've got loads of 'em what'll make the cheeks rosy, so to speak. None more so than me. I could weave a good tale about those rascals Merry and Pip, no doubt. But the stories, they're of no harm. They just make people laugh. And with all we've seen, and now that everything's over and all, a laugh can't hurt, can it?"

Sam completely missed the sudden glimmer that sparked in Legolas' eyes. Chuckling briefly about a memory of some past indiscretion by Pippin, he also missed the decrease in Legolas' attention. Legolas, on the other hand, was suddenly swept by the gravity of what Sam had just admitted. Indeed, the gardener surely could spin some tales. But so could Legolas. Millennia of patient observation of others was not without its rewards, after all.

Sam just kept on doggedly trying to convince Legolas to return. "Besides, we...I mean you're missing all that wonderful food and drink." Suddenly, Sam realized how long this was taking, and that three very keen hobbits had been left behind near the pastry table. Could he be sure they would wait for him? Would there be anything left? A sudden intake of breath from Sam shook Legolas from his contemplations. The shock on Sam's face was easily read, and Legolas was quick to ease his companion's nerves.

"You're right, Sam. They know nothing, and there is little they can do about it. But we should not keep you from the celebrations. And it would be wrong to deny our friends. Besides, I have a suspicion that things are about to get rather...interesting."

Together, they walked through the many halls towards the Great Hall, talking calmly as old friends are wont to do. Their voices carried nicely through the hallways, giving plenty of warning to those plotting within. It did not matter to the Prince. Let them have their warning. It would avail them little. He now had a store of weapons as varied as memory itself.

***

Legolas entered through a door in the centre of the northern wall. He hoped that his entrance was not unnoticed.  There seemed to be no change in the ambience of the room. No one swarmed over to him. Merry and Pippin quickly ran over to fetch Sam so that they might begin attacking the pastries, with naught but a quick greeting to Legolas. He casually convinced himself their eagerness was due to Sam's absence, and thought no more on the matter. He therefore missed the pointed looks and the sudden redness that swept over Sam's face, as he turned to scold Merry and Pippin and looked guiltily over his shoulder at the elf who was beginning to walk unsuspectingly through the crowd.

Legolas had managed to make it a mere yard past the door when he felt a stiff breeze sweep across his back. Turning suddenly, he stifled a groan in his throat, unintentionally (but effectively) turning it into a growl.

Barring the door stood a pair of kings, a steward and two princes, four of whom grinned unabashedly, and the fifth looked as apprehensive (if not desperate) as Legolas was beginning to feel. So much for having entered unnoticed, thought Legolas, with no small measure of annoyance and anxiety

"Legolas, my DEAR friend" drawled Aragorn. Having spent so much time in their company, Aragorn was doing a remarkably good imitation of Elladan and Elrohir's most sinister smirks, while at the same time trying (and not trying very hard, at that) to maintain an air of innocence that would fool no one.

Legolas, without hesitation, turned determinedly towards the southern exit at the other end of the room. Unfortunately, from that direction came Maglor, Maedhros, Olwë, Elwë and Beren. From the furthest West, Arwen and Lúthien began descending on him with uncommon grace and poise, leaving the company of Galadriel and Celebrían. Just to the North of them, came Elrond, Celeborn and Haldir. And from the East came the most dreaded group yet: Oropher, Thranduil, Tanglinna, and the sons of Elrond. He was effectively trapped. Too effectively. They were coming to him.

He grinned inwardly, while outwardly he exhibited all the wariness and apprehension of a trapped rabbit.

Some will rue the night they chose to cross me.