"So this is Valinor."
"This is Valinor."
There was a very long pause.
"Are you sure you didn’t make a wrong turn?"
"We didn’t turn. We just went west."
There was another very long pause.
"It looks deserted."
"We have not gone far inland yet."
The next pause was significantly shorter as a survey was made of the beach.
"Maybe they are all playing a trick on you."
"They are not playing a trick on me."
"Could be. Maybe they all knew you were bringing a dwarf, and now you have chased them all away. Perhaps, they have all gone further west still, and you will be stuck with me until the end of time." Gimli chuckled in spite of himself.
Legolas sighed and frowned, looking at the lone structure on the beach. "Perhaps this is a watch post. A place to greet new arrivals."
"Certainly is... charming. Quite charming," Gimli said, regarding the pink fence as he came to the gate. "Do you think we should... knock?" he asked, but Legolas had already pushed the gate that featured a pair of flamingos open and was approaching the house cautiously. Gimli shrugged and followed in his friend’s wake. "It doesn’t seem as if anyone is at home, laddie."
There were two sets of stairs leading up to two separate entrances, and Legolas chose the path to his right. He readjusted the sack he carried in one hand that held the few positions he had decided to bring with him and tapped on the door with the edge of his bow. No one answered, but Legolas was sure that he could hear something moving around inside. He tried the knob and found the door to be unlocked.
"Perhaps we should wait. Try knocking on the other door," suggested Gimli as Legolas pushed the door until it was wide open. The elf either was not listening or did not care to, for he entered the house, leaving his sack and weapon in the hallway.
Gimli stepped in after Legolas, pausing to look at a potted plant sitting near the door. "Atrocious," he muttered, following past a number of closed doors to the room Legolas was in. It was a sitting room of some type, and rather large, with a cozy fireplace fixed in the center of the wall. Legolas was standing in the door staring at it.
"Is something the matter?" asked Gimli, tightening his grip on his large axe. He used it now more as a walking stick than weapon, but none who knew him would dare make such a claim.
Legolas shook his head and merely said, "Half elves."
Gimli looked around in confusion, for he saw no one. "Beg your pardon?"
Legolas turned his head to regard the dwarf. "Peredhil get cold. They like the fire."
"This could be the house of Elrond, then," guessed Gimli.
"More likely his sons," mused Legolas, scanning the room. "I believe Lord Elrond has a great palace built in one of the inner cities. With great arches carved from tall trees and beautiful winding staircases. Pillars of marble and stone walkways, gardens with lush grass and flowers of every hue." Legolas turned and exited the room, heading for the stairway.
"You sound envious of this house you believe Lord Elrond has," called Gimli, taking his time as he wandered up the stairs behind his companion.
"I am envious!" shouted a voice from above. "I lived in tree or cave most of my life. Not that I would have traded my life for another, but I always lingered in Imladris. There is something to be said for a room with four flat and sturdy walls."
"You surprise me with your talk of walls, Legolas," Gimli told him when he had finally come to find him far in the back rooms of the highest floor of the house.
Legolas was sitting on the end of the tidily-made bed, looking oddly at something purple he held in his hands. "Walls are nice, if they have ample windows."
Gimli settled himself down on the dark blue blanket that was spread across the mattress and tucked neatly at the corners until he sat upon it. "Blech. Elves," he muttered, poking at the mattress.
Shifting his gaze to the dwarf beside him, Legolas frowned with an abundance of mockery. "What are you sputtering about now?" he jibed good-naturedly.
"This bed." Gimli poked it. "It is much too hard."
Legolas truly frowned, and tested the give of the mattress. "It is firm, but not uncomfortable."
"That’s just it," Gimli said, standing up. "Gifted with immortality, and you don’t spend it as wisely as you should."
"What are you talking about?" asked Legolas, placing the object onto the bed again.
"Please, Legolas." Gimli headed for the door. "If I were an elf – and even if I weren’t - this bed would have been broken in by now," he huffed.
"Gimli!" Legolas couldn’t help laughing, but he motioning behind them as he caught up to the dwarf. "That was the room of an elfling, there was a stuffed rabbit on the bed."
"That is no child’s room, elfling or otherwise," debated Gimli as they found their way to the next lower level. "It was much too clean."
"What was?"
"The room." Gimli thought for a moment, and added, "And the bunny-rabbit."
They found only two doors on the second level, facing one another in the hallway. Legolas again opened a door, and Gimli mumbled, "Remind me to put a very solid lock on the doors of the house I live in to keep you from rummaging through the place."
This next room actually looked like the room of a child. Legolas pushed the door in, and literally had to force it to open the entire way. He and Gimli carefully walked over and around various piles of clothing and clutter until they found the bed, which they both sat down upon and sunk into.
"What about this one, Master Dwarf? Has it been broken in to your satisfaction?" Legolas pulled himself up from the tussled orange and gold coverings that had been haphazardly thrown across the bed.
"I think it’s just broken," grumbled Gimli, trying to maneuver into a better position. His hands grasped a chunk of fabric, and he pulled it up, showing it to Legolas. "This reminds me of something. The tunics of the elves in Lothlorien."
Legolas reached forward and examined the garment. "This is the material used by the Galadhrim," he confirmed, tossing it back onto the bed. Gimli grabbed another piece of clothing, holding up a rather revealing item most ladies would have blushed to have seen. Legolas quirked a brow at the image.
"Well. Certainly wouldn’t have thought they’d have worn this under those uniforms," Gimli said. Legolas rolled his eyes and headed for the room across the hall. Gimli followed a short time later, plopping down on the bed in this new room as Legolas looked at the drawings framed upon the walls. "Ah... just right," Gimli said, giving a bit of a bounce on the mattress.
"I know this artist’s hand," Legolas said, ignoring Gimli’s testing of the mattress. "This is the work of Rumil Celebornion, I would bet my life on that." Legolas looked over his shoulder at Gimli, who was sitting comfortably on the side of the bed. "This is his room, a room he shares with his wife, Nenniach." Legolas picked up a drawing that would have to have been partially a self-portrait of three elves and showed it to Gimli.
"Nice family," commented Gimli, getting up from the bed reluctantly. "We might assume the other rooms are occupied by his brothers."
"Without a doubt, Orophin is across the hall," nodded Legolas. "He and Valarda were always very strange."
Gimli studied the structure of the doorway as he passed through, noticing the walkway across to the other building. "I do not know that I believe the room with the stuffed rabbit belongs to that arrogant captain."
"I would think the room is indeed Haldir’s," said Legolas, shutting the door of the room before following. "Although the rabbit may not belong to him."
"Why else could it be there, then?" Gimli pondered. "A gift from a lover?"
"Perhaps it belongs to a child of his," suggested Legolas. "There is another room you did not see that I was in before you found your way to the room with the rabbit. It was a nursery, just a few steps from the room we were in."
"And then again, maybe he sleeps with it," said Gimli, testing the doorknob of the room they had come to. Again, it was unlocked, and the dwarf pushed it open. "Ho, what have we here?" he asked, surveying the bedchambers. The room was light in color and had a breezy feel to it. On cream colored blankets was a bright pink bird, head nestled against a wing in slumber. "Wonder if the bird knows anything." Gimli looked at Legolas expectantly.
Legolas blinked. "What do you want me to do, ask it where its master is?"
"Well, you’re an elf, aren’t you?" grumbled Gimli, approaching the bird, who was now stretching its elegant pink neck and regarding the newcomers with curiosity. "If you can talk to trees, you can talk to a flamingo."
Sighing, Legolas found his way to another door in the room. "You have apparently mistaken me for a ranger."
"Oh. Sorry about that." Gimli sat down on the bed. "Elven princes don’t talk to flamingos. Consider it noted." He looked closer at the bird, now noticing a chain around its neck with a silver tag on it. Reaching over, he examined the writing on it. "Legolas, there’s something here in Elvish."
The elf bounded back over to the bed, leaning over to take a look. "Mitzi." He frowned. "Strange. It is not a word I am familiar with."
"Nor I." Gimli let go of the tag and the bird ruffled its feathers. "Say, here’s a silly thought. What if this bird isn’t just a bird?"
"I beg your pardon, I do not follow your thoughts."
"What if this bird," continued Gimli, "is one of the Valar? Or the Maiar? Perhaps a wizard - could even be Gandalf!"
Legolas couldn’t help but smile. "What would Mithrandir be doing in the house of the Lorien brothers?"
"Mithrandir! Yes, that sounds a wee bit like Mitzi. Perhaps he enjoys living as a sea bird now."
Legolas took a long look at the flamingo, and then shifted his gaze to Gimli. "I do not concur with your opinion," he said before heading back into the closet he had been exploring. He heard Gimli in the room behind him attempting to communicate with the bird and laughed silently to himself.
There wasn’t a thing that gave any indication as to who inhabited this room from the items stored in the closet - or so Legolas thought. As he turned to leave, something on the floor caught his eye, tucked away behind pairs of shoes. He picked it up and held it carefully, taking it out to show Gimli.
"I know whose room this is and whose bed you’re sitting on," Legolas said smugly. He held up the pitcher he had found so that Gimli could better see it. For a moment Gimli studied the pitcher, and then gasped in realization.
"That is the pitcher that belongs to the Lady of the Golden Woods," Gimli said in awe.
Legolas nodded, grinning. "Although, given the choice, I wouldn’t live with my parents in Valinor. I suppose for Rumil and his brothers they finally get to be the family they could not in Lothlorien."
Gimli seemed not to have heard his elven companion. "Then this... is the Lady Galadriel’s bed..."
"Yes, I would assume so..." Legolas said slowly.
Gimli flopped backwards onto the sheets, spreading his arms above his head and his legs below in the same fashion many young ones would make snow elves in the winter. Legolas jumped out of the way as the flamingo took flight and escaped through the open window. "Gimli, that is just crude," scolded Legolas. "Besides," he added, replacing the pitcher in the closet, "you may very well be on the side that the Lord Celeborn sleeps in."
Legolas returned to find Gimli relaxing on the other side of the bed. "Dwarves," he mumbled, leaving the room.
- - -
After exploring the whole of the house, or as many of the rooms that were not locked, for it seemed someone on the third floor liked their privacy, the pair headed further toward the mainland. Legolas found the walk to be slower than he would have normally been used to so that Gimli could stay in step, but was glad to take in the sights, sounds, and smells of his new home.
It was sometime in the afternoon that they found an inn on the edge of a small woods. In the distance was a more populated area, but something compelled Legolas to enter the cozy looking building.
He and Gimli walked through a room that was something of a parlor and something of a maze before finding the entrance to a large room, one with a bar and a wide open space, likely for dancing. A stage was in the far corner, but was empty for now. There was a buzz in the air of gossip and well wishing from those lining the stools of the long counter.
Legolas stepped casually into the hall, and instead of wandering to the bar, took a moment to survey the architecture. It was very, very familiar to him.
At the bar, one of the bartenders had looked up upon hearing them enter. He nudged the other bartender and squinted, cocking his head to the side. "That isn’t Thranduil, is it?"
The second bartender looked as well. "Thranduil’s supposed to be at his party."
"It looks just like him though."
"Nay, not Thranduil," answered a patron at the bar. "’Tis his son."
The second bartender, Glorcheniel, blinked. "Legolas?" She called out, and the elf responded, looking over at her, trying to place her. She did not look like anyone he knew, and yet, she knew his name.
"Aye, I am Legolas," he said, somewhat dumbly. Everyone sitting at the bar heard his answer, and turned now to regard the elf many had only heard of in song and story as one of the famed nine.
Instead, they found themselves staring down at his companion.
Finally, someone spoke to break the silence. "There is a dwarf. In Valinor."
"Is there not... a rule about dwarves? In Valinor?" asked someone else.
"I do not know about rules," answered a voice familiar to Legolas. "but I do know a limerick about a dwarf in Valinor." There was a pause, and then laughter. "No, never mind, it is a limerick about Master Erestor in Valinor."
"Is there not a rule about Master Erestor being in Valinor?" someone else spoke up.
"No, but I think there is a rule about Master Erestor not being in Valinor!" answered the familiar voice again. There was much laughter and some began to go back to their drinks.
"’Twill grieve you all greatly, then, for Master Erestor has made plans to cross the sea and come to live in Valinor." There were a few groans from some of the older elves, and Legolas continued, "He shall sail within the coming months with Lord Glorfindel to the Undying Lands."
"A pound of mithril says only one of them makes it to the shores alive!" shouted an elleth.
The laughter burst forth again, and after a few moments, Legolas was able to finally place the familiar voice when he saw Orophin stand upon his stool. "Alright, ellyn and ellyth, place your bets here! The odds are 5 to 1 in favor of Erestor being the elf alive when the ship reaches the shores!"
"But Glorfindel brought down a balrog!" called out someone on the far end of the bar. "That should count for something!"
"Aye, but he’s still trying to master the concept of not falling off large objects to his death. We’ll have a side bet going, method of death. Falling from the ship and drowning will be an option."
Another elf raised a hand in the air to capture the attention of everyone present. "But I heard it said that Glorfindel rode against the black riders!"
"First," Orophin explained, ticking off a finger, "it was probably Asfaloth who was the valiant one and Glorfindel that clung to the horse’s back, and second, is there truly a rider darker than Erestor? Nay, I think Glorfindel may be taking a second trip to Mandos by the year’s end. Your bets, please, everyone!"
Legolas stood, bewildered, until he felt a hand upon his shoulder. "Rumil! It has been a long time!"
"That it has, my friend." Rumil bowed to Gimli. "Mae govannen, Gimli son of Gloin. Nana said you would be coming, but I could not believe until I saw it with my own eyes. Come, sit with us, you must be in want of refreshment, and the King’s Kastle is the best place for it! Best of all, the drinks are free," he whispered, leading them to the end of the bar where Nenniach, Valarda, and Celebdreth were sitting. Orophin was weaving his way to them as Rumil offered his arm to help Gimli seat himself upon the high stool as the elves greeted both of Valinor’s newest inhabitants.
"Glorcheniel, friends of mine!" Orophin said, nodding to them.
Glorcheniel rolled her eyes. "As if I would charge him, knowing who he is." She wiped her hands on the towel that hung loosely at her hip. "What can I get for you?"
"Just water for myself, and whatever it is that Gimli desires."
"I don’t suppose elves brew a good beer, do they?"
There was a twinkle in Glorcheniel’s eye as she ducked under the counter, only to pull a frothing mug of deep amber away from the tap a moment later. She settled it in front of Gimli, placing a cloth napkin beside it before retrieving a glass of water for Legolas.
"Now that’s what I call service!" Gimli said, pounding a fist down on the bar. He lifted the glass and drank deeply. "This is incredible! Unbelievable!" he gawked.
"Brewed from a method created by Aule," Glorcheniel explained when she returned with the water for Legolas.
"This is brilliant!" Gimli took another swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "We should have come here sooner!" Gimli told Legolas.
Legolas smiled and took his glass from the counter. He had opted thus far not to sit, and was the only one standing on the patron side of the bar besides Orophin. "So, what gives you such privilege here as free drinks and the ability to calm the crowd?"
"My crowd charming ability is due to my extremely high charisma, a trait I thank my father for." Legolas raised a brow to this, and Orophin tried again. "My mother? Brother?" Legolas crinkled his nose, and Orophin laughed. "Alright, I’m charming all on my own, then. But the free drinks are an essential perk of being a member of the illustrious King’s Kastle staff."
"I had thought you might have had a hand in owning it, from the way you spoke," Legolas said, sipping from his glass.
"Nay, my good friend, for I am employed here in jest," he grinned. Legolas gave him a puzzled look.
Valarda piped up. "He’s the jester. One of them, at least," she said, and there was pride in her voice.
"Ah." Legolas looked Orophin over. "Where is your colorful cap? Your curled-toe shoes with bells upon them?"
Orophin shrugged. "I am funny enough just being myself, I don’t need a costume. You should come around when we have the limerick contests. Bloody brilliant fun."
Legolas said nothing, unsure of how to further the topic. "Is your family... what do they think of your current occupation?"
Orophin bit his lip. "Well, see, there’s the catch, really. Not all of them know about it."
Legolas lifted a brow. "And who is it who does not know? Most of your family appears to be present. Do not tell me you have kept such a secret from your brother."
"And Nana. And Elrond. Only the ones who wouldn’t understand, mind you," Orophin defended. "They shall know soon enough. Until that time, I perform only on those days which I know they shall not be here."
"Which pretty much leaves his schedule wide open," added Rumil.
"And who is your merry employer, who would hire a rogue such as yourself to do little more than wander his establishment and insult prospective patrons?" wondered Legolas, going back to his drink.
"I would like to begin by saying that Master Erestor will likely never frequent this establishment, and I shall quote him with something he told me long ago whilst I was under his tutelage." Orophin cleared his throat, adopting a stern look and imitating Erestor’s deep and serious voice. " ‘Orophin, I am through with you.’ " Orophin’s demeanor changed back to playful once again. "So, I have little worry that he should concern himself with me. My merry employer, as you so put it, is none other than the ex-King Thranduil."
Legolas choked on his water and then on his words. "My... father!"
"Well, now, the evidence on that was never conclusive, but you look much more like him than you do the messenger." Orophin gave Legolas a pat on the back to help stop his sputtering.
"Why is my father running a pub?"
"It’s really not a pub. It’s a dancehall," corrected Celebdreth.
"It’s an inn," Orophin said pointedly. "An inn, and little different from Elrond’s old place."
"Elrond? Elrond didn’t have an inn," argued Legolas, catching his breath.
"What do you think the Last Homely House was?" Orophin leaned against the counter. "Think about it. Catchy name. Nice and secluded. You could even have breakfast in bed if you liked. Not a lot of people lived there, more just a place to pass through on your way to the Havens or elsewhere. Lovely spot to hold meetings."
Legolas shook his head. "The Last Homely House was * not * an inn."
"Sure it was." It was Gimli who came now to the defense of Orophin. "Compared to the reception I received in Lothlorien and the way your father reacted to my kin when they reached the Mirkwood caves, the Last Homely House was Middle Earth’s most exclusive Bed and Breakfast."
Legolas set his glass onto the counter. "I do not believe this. Less than a day in Valinor, and everything has become a joke. I should like to speak to my father."
"You’ll have to wait a bit," said Rumil. "He’s hosting a gathering for all of the royals of Arda, up at your Grandfather’s palace."
"My Grandfather has a palace?" Legolas looked at Rumil in disbelief, which faded into sudden realization. "You mean Grandfather Oropher! He’s been reborn again, then!" Legolas was now overcome with excitement as he turned to Gimli. "You will love my Grandfather. He was always very friendly with dwarves, had some of them help with the building of the caves. Quite a jolly elf, he’s very much like my brother in his looks." Legolas turned back to Rumil without waiting for Gimli to make reply. "How far away is the palace?"
Orophin cringed. "About ten hours by carriage. Maybe six or seven if you took a fast horse and ran it into the ground. You aren’t planning on going, are you?"
"Why not?" questioned Legolas. "I am royalty."
"Well..." Orophin shrugged. "It’s only really meant for kings and queens and the like. That’s why we aren’t there," he said, spreading his arms about him.
"I was the Elven King of Ithilien, that should count for something," Legolas said, holding his chin high. Gimli chuckled. "And what so amuses you?"
"You didn’t rule Ithilien by my account. You told poor Aragorn you were bringing some of your elven friends to fix up the forest. You had a nice little elf colony there, but king you were not," Gimli told him bluntly. "Now, myself on the other hand, I was King of Aglarond. Lord of the Glittering Caves," he said with a sigh, "and there’s no dispute over that."
"Lord of the Glittering Caves my ass," huffed Legolas. "You brought a troop of dwarves who wanted to carve chunks of rock and waste time drinking to a cave. It was a party, not a monarchy."
Gimli set his mug heavily upon the bar. "And every time I came to visit you, all you and your elves did was climb in the trees and sing silly songs."
"Sounds like my kind of place," mused Rumil. "I knew I should have checked out my options before moving to Imladris."
"What does it matter?" interrupted Orophin, attempting to break up what could potentially turn into a volatile situation. "You are both here now, and here in Valinor, we do all of the above without care to what anyone thinks. Except carving chunks of rocks," he said, wagging a finger at Gimli. "You’re on your own for that."
"Come, Gimli," Legolas said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder. "I have a great desire to see my father, and if we can find a horse fast enough and willing to carry us, we may arrive in time before the end of the gathering."
Gimli nodded. "We need to find ourselves a horse."
"You can use mine," offered Glorcheniel. "She’s the grey mare tied up out back. Winulla is her name."
Legolas said his thanks and his farewells, departing with Gimli after one last look about the dancehall.
- - -
"Remember, I am not the Prince of Mirkwood," emphasized Legolas as they slowed and approached the well-lit structure that could only be their destination. The directions given to them by Rumil were flawless, and they had made a time of just over five hours, thanks to the swift hooves of Winulla. Legolas whispered his thanks and praises into the horse’s ear, and she whinnied contentedly with pride.
"Lord of the Forest Ithilien. I have it etched in my mind," Gimli assured him. "Do not forget my entire title," added Gimli.
"King of the Glittering Caves, Lord of-"
"King of Aglarond, Lord of the Glittering Caves," Gimli corrected him.
Legolas nodded. "Sorry. King of Aglarond, Lord of the Glittering Caves," he repeated.
"Are you sure you do not want me to make our introductions?" offered Gimli.
"No, no. I shall be fine." At the bottom of the stairs, they dismounted, and Legolas sent Winulla off to graze. They climbed the steps, admiring the beauty of the gardens. There was a single elf standing at the doors above, and he eyed up both of them as they made their ascent.
"May I help you?" asked the elf at the top of the stairs once they stood before him.
Legolas swept his cape back majestically. "You may. I was told there is a gathering here of the kings and queens of Arda."
The guard eyed up both of them, but especially Gimli, with great suspicion. "That there is."
"That is excellent news, for we have just recently arrived upon the shores today, and were not sent invitation. I am Lord of the Forest Ithilien, and my companion is King of Aglarond, Lord of the Glittering Ass. Caves. Glittering Caves," Legolas corrected himself swiftly.
The guard turned his suspicion now to Legolas, who looked very much like the King Oropher, and even more like the King Thranduil. The dwarf was still a bit of a shock, but it would be terribly amusing to send them into the hall. If nothing else, the guests would have a good laugh.
Beckoning for them to follow, the guard opened the doors and led them around the entryway to the stairs that led down into the main hall so that a grand entrance could be made. Waiting until everyone had noticed that he was standing at the top of the stairs as he had to introduce all of the guests that evening, the guard cleared his throat and announced in a loud voice, "His royal highness, the Lord of the Forest Ithilien and the most exhalted King of Aglarond, Lord of the Glittering Caves."
A slight buzz shot through the crowd, but contrary to most, Haldir and the twins were staying completely silent. Onto the balcony ledge came Legolas, followed by Gimli. "Certainly, those are two I had my doubts about ever seeing again," said Elrohir. His brother and uncle nodded in agreement.
Legolas and Gimli were walking slowly and steadily down the steps. The closer they came to the group in the hall, the quieter the room became. When Legolas placed his foot upon the floor, all talking had stopped. He scanned the room, finally finding the one he was looking for.
Thranduil took a deep breath and edged through the crowd until he was able to get a clear view of his son, letting an arm reach forward. "Legolas?" He was both surprised and delighted, and didn’t know whether he would suddenly faint or get the urge to happily jump up and down. Then he remembered their parting, and Greenwood, and all the rest. His arm fell back down to his side.
Legolas saw the motion and bounded forward. "Ada!" The two of them embraced and began to talk all at once, apologizing, forgiving, telling, sharing, laughing, and loving. Gimli stood off to the side, shifting his stance as he planted his axe on the ground.
Ilmendin finally made his way to the group, and pulled his brother from his father, hugging him fiercely. The two brothers started to curse one another playfully, slapping and nudging and each of them were wearing a silly grin on their face. Gimli took the cue to move a step in the opposite direction.
A number of elves near the stairs were now backing away from the dwarf, giving him odd looks. Gimli obviously decided to ignore their gaze, but he did look a bit uncomfortable.
"Hold this." Haldir handed his glass to Elrohir and unclasped the heavy cloak he had been wearing. This he tossed onto a nearby bench, and smoothing back the hair behind his ears, made to step forward.
"What are you doing?" demanded Elladan, who had stepped in front of Haldir.
"Committing an act of political and social suicide, Aulė help me." He placed a hand on Elladan’s shoulder and walked boldly past him.
Elrohir stood dumbly holding onto both his glass and his uncle’s as he watched Haldir continue to the front of the room. Those who saw him coming made way for him.
"Master Dwarf!" Gimli turned in surprise as he heard and saw an elf approaching. Haldir smiled and took to one knee in front of the dwarf and to the shock of everyone in the room embraced him. "Mae govannen, child of Aulė, it is good to see you again, Gimli."
"But... I... oh, heck. It’s good to see you as well, Master Elf." Gimli returned the hug, patting Haldir on the back. The elf hadn’t expected that, and winced at the pain in his spine. "Oh, sorry about that. Forgot about the ol’ war injury," Gimli apologized, stepping back as Haldir stood up.
Across the room, though they could not hear what was going on, the twins most certainly could see the scene unfold. "Well, I’m not letting him hog the spotlight on this. I’m going to hug the dwarf, too." Elladan walked to the front, passing off his glass of wine to the first empty hand he saw. Elrohir did the same with the ones he held, and soon they found themselves next to Gimli and barraged him from either side.
"Well, hello, laddies, I was told by that silly blond elf in Rivendell you’d be here!"
"Glorfindel?" guessed both twins at the same time.
Gimli nodded and looked again at Elrohir. "Ho, now, what do we have here!" Gimli stretched his hand and felt the hair on the elf’s cheek. "Since when do elves have beards?"
"Cirdan started it, really. I can’t take credit for the first one," Elrohir grinned.
"Well, it’s a lovely start," complimented Gimli. "Just wait until it gets a foot or so and you can start braiding it."
"I didn’t think about that. I’ve just kept it trimmed so far." Elrohir mused upon the possibilities.
Elladan took a look at his twin and gave a loud snort. Elrohir narrowed his eyes, and Elladan frowned. "Sorry, it’s just... oh, that would be rich..." Elladan began to laugh again.
"When are you going to start on one of your own, laddie?" asked Gimli of Elladan.
"Oh, I don’t know..." pondered Elladan. "How about never?"
Gimli and the twins seemed at ease in conversation, so Haldir decided it was about time to find his cape and make his exit from the party. In the morning, the carriages would take them all home, and he would never have to set foot in the palace of Oropher again. All he needed to do was find his cloak quickly, without running into... him.
Except that his cloak was not on the bench where he had left it, but was draped over the arm of the one elf he had hoped to avoid. "Lord Legolas. I believe you are holding my cloak."
"Haldir, I-" Legolas received the infamous raised brow and began again. "King Haldir?" Now he was given a scowl. "Haldir, I haven’t seen you the better part of a century. I had hoped we might put the Greenwood Incident behind us."
Haldir said nothing, crossing his arms as Legolas continued. "Can you really blame me for being upset? I did not truly expect him to give the kingdom to someone else. It was a great shock for me."
Still, Haldir stood stoically listening to the other elf speak. "Perhaps that isn’t all of it. Perhaps I was jealous. Yes, I wanted Greenwood even though I told him no. But I wanted it on my terms, not his. And I was jealous of you. Jealous that you had it, and jealous that everyone there respected you, and jealous that you did such a fine job ruling. A better job than I would have done." His last line was nearly whispered, and he was looking away in shame about his confession.
"The King of Greenwood is still mightily upset that the Lord of Ithilien caused such uproar in his kingdom when last he visited." Haldir took a step forward, dropping his arms to his sides. His voice softened, and he smiled ever so slightly. "The Captain of the Galadhrim, however, is much relieved to see the Prince of Mirkwood safely in Valinor." The two of them hugged, and Haldir kissed his old friend on the brow. "I have missed you."
"I have missed you as well." Legolas took a step back and looked suspiciously at Haldir’s feet. "Three thousand years, and you still wear those boots."
"Only when I’m not at home. And I take them off when I go dancing," Haldir replied smugly.
"Dancing? How interesting." Legolas shook his head. "We have much to talk about, for I suspect you have had adventures here just as I have had them across the sea."
"The King of Greenwood is still not on speaking terms with the Lord of Ithilien," warned Haldir, slipping his cloak from Legolas’s arm.
"Good of you to channel the Captain this evening so we could speak for a moment, then," smirked Legolas.
Haldir nodded. "Let it not be said that I am not accommodating. I did, if you recall, allow a dwarf into Lothlorien."
"A noble act of kindness, especially for one of the Galadhrim," grinned Legolas, watching Haldir unfold the cape. His face fell. "You aren’t leaving, are you?"
"I had planned to retreat at some point."
"Oh." Legolas slumped his shoulders. "I suppose the Captain of the Galadhrim has pressing matters and that the King of Greenwood shall be returning presently?"
Haldir contemplated his cloak for a moment before glancing at Legolas. "I’m still not completely happy about what happened," he said folding the cloak in half.
"Of course not."
"And I mean it. About not quite being on speaking terms with you." The cape was folded once again.
"I wouldn’t be on speaking terms with me either," agreed Legolas, but he was smiling again, and it was contagious.
"One drink, and ten minutes of time. Then, I shall be on my way." Now in eighths, the cape was tossed aside onto the bench it had been placed upon earlier.
"One drink. That is all," Legolas assured him, trying to think of a beverage that came in a very large glass.
