Written by
Zhie and Maggie.
Rated NC17. Work In Progress;
The main characters are Legolas, Gimli, and Haldir.
As
Elrond approached the dining room, he found that Legolas was whispering with
concern for Elessar about not having found Haldir in his room or any other place
he searched. Elrond explained to
the Mirkwood prince and King of Gondor where Haldir was and why he had not
chosen to eat with them this evening.
“Pah,
that seems like that elf.” Mumbled Gimli.
“He is more standoffish than any elf I know.”
“Then
you have not met my chief counselor Erestor.” Mused Elrond.
“He was teacher to Haldir for some time, and likely the reason such
standoffishness rubbed off onto Haldir.”
Elrond rubbed his temple as he sat, trying to remember whether
standoffishness was indeed a word or not. He
was still sorting out his vocabulary from having read thousands of words in
Quenya that he had not uttered for centuries.
“Aye,
Erestor is much, much worse than Haldir.”
Agreed Elessar, then bit his lip before continuing, “But I mean that in
a most respectful way.” He received a pinch under the table to his thigh from
Arwen, and decided to leave the conversation at that.
“I
know some have challenged my choice of Erestor for many years, but once they
have met Glorfindel, they see how I had the need to gain balance by having both
around.” Most of those at the
table laughed, knowing the former Lord of Gondolin well enough to know the
meaning of Elrond’s words.
“Well,
Haldir may not necessarily need nourishment, but that does not mena he will not
want it.” Elessar made a motion
to one of the servers, a boy of no more than fourteen, with fiery red hair.
The lad was at his side in but a moment, and after he was given
instructions as to where the elf was, went into the kitchen.
Legolas
stayed a moment, waited until conversation began again, then went to the kitchen
himself. He spied the boy readying
a tray, and surveyed the staff. Many,
he observed, were quite hobbity in appearance, and just wouldn’t do.
One, however, stood out among them.
She was tall, pale, and quite simply, elfy.
She much reminded him of Orophin’s wife, Valarda, in appearance, but
her mannerism was much less bold as she went about her duties. Making his way across the kitchen, he coaxed both the
kitchenmaid and the server away from the rest of the staff.
“If
you would not mind doing such a favor,” began Legolas in a low voice, “would
you be so kind as to take the tray to the elf upstairs?” He slid from his
pocket two silver pieces, and quietly placed them on the counter near the tray
of food.”
“I
don’t know what you think you’re buying, Master Elf, but it is not for sale
here.” The kitchenmaid crossed
her arms and the serving lad looked – well, quite defensive.
Legolas
chuckled, trying not to sound uneasy. “Nay,
I ask only that you take him his supper. He
is a guardian, a watched of the forrest, and has not seen the beauty of a woman
in sometimes,” lied Legolas, “however, his honor is great, and he would not
act in a dishonorable manner. He is
chief counsel to Lord Celeborn, this alone should be cause for belief.” The
last part was again not entirely true, for Lady Galadriel was surely chief
counselor of Celeborn – but Haldir was a very, very close second.
The
server and maid exchanged glances, then nods.
“If my king wishes it, I shall take the tray.”
She hoisted the tray, balancing it upon one hip, while the lad slid both
pieces off silver off the counter and into a pouch he had.
Legolas frowned, but both were gone before they were able to see his
reaction. He returned to the dining
room in time to see the maid approach King Elessar, and he thanked the Valar for
his hearing when she whispered, “Excuse me, King Elessar, but my brother is
needed in the kitchen. My absense
will not be missed if I am to take up this tray in his place.”
Elessar nodded, and the maid walked purposefully out of the room.
She
rounded the corner, and found the hobbits from dinner sitting on a window bench,
smoking pipes. She gave them a nod,
and after she had passed, one of them called after her, “Are you taking the
elf his dinner?”
The
kitchenmaid turned, another nod.
“Do
you know elvish?” asked the other, being Merry.
This
time she frowned.
“He
doesn’t speak Westron.” Continued Merry.
“Just thought you should know.”
“Thank
you, Master Brandybuck.” The kitchenmaid curtseyed, and left down the hallway.
“Merry.”
Hissed Pippin after the kitchenmaid had made her exit, “What are you up to,
telling her he doesn’t speak Westron? You
said he did!”
“Hush,
Pip!” Merry took a long drag of the pipe.
“I’m only having a bit o’ fun with him.
Someone’s coming down the hall!” he added, turning his attention to
the direction of the dining room. Sure
enough, a figure burst into view – an axe-wielding figure, in fact.
Gimli
stopped when he reached the hobbits. “Did
you see where she went?”
“That
we did.” Affirmed Merry.
Gimli
stood silent for a moment, then began to tap the floor impatiently with his
boot.
“I
don’t think Aragorn much wants you to go irritating that elf from Lothlorien.”
Merry finally told him. “And it seems he doesn’t want Legolas bugging him,
either. In fact, he seems to think
everyone should leave him be.”
Gimli
looked taken aback. “The elf? Pah,
I don’t want anathin’ to do with the likes of him.
But that young woman from the kitchen, ah, she has such beauty I might
think the Lady Galadriel herself might be jealous.”
“Oh,
well now, that’s different!” Pippin said, motioning down a hallway.
“Good luck to you, Gimli!”
The
dwarf headed around the corner quickly, lest the hobbits come to the conclusion
he was * not * in pursuit of the kitchenmaid.
The last thing he needed was for Legolas to win in less than a day –
and very unfairly, considering not all of the guests had yet to arrive.
Gimli
moved from door to door, checking the open rooms with his eyes and the closed
ones with his ears. He came to one at the end of a hall, and could hear voices
coming from within.
“I’m
sorry, Captain, forgive me.”
Gimli
grinned to himself. ‘She made her move, and he declined.’ He thought with
glee.
“You
can touch them if you want. I
don’t mind.”
The
grin reversed, and Gimli pressed his ear closer to the door.
“Are
you…are you quite sure?”
She
seemed unsure herself. Gimli silently shook his head as if it might sway Haldir’s
thoughts and answer.
“You
wouldn’t believe how many woman – and men – ask if they can just touch one
of them. I’ve never been
comfortable with the men, but I could hardly resist a beautiful lady.”
Gimli’s
eyes went wide. ‘So Orophin was
right! But he does not seem to deny
being with males – men even! – perhaps…” Giggling interrupted his
thoughts, and he concentrated once again upon the voices.
“Does
it tickle when I do this?”
‘Mmmm.
Guess I’ll just have to use my imagination to – gah, blah, no, no,
no, naked elf. Very bad.
Yech.’
“Nay,
it is quite a pleasant thing.”
‘I’ll
bet.’
“Like
stroking a small kitten on the nose.”
Gimli’s
eyes widened further when he heard laughter, but only from the woman.
“Now,
look, the tip is all red and swollen -
you’re blushing quite a lot, Captain.”
“I
am just not used to such – pleasant hospitality.”
Having
completely forgotten himself in his eavesdropping, Gimli’s axe suddenly fell
and clattered to the ground. Cursing
himself for carrying it about, he retrieved if quickly and escaped down the
hall. He didn’t even breathe
until he was in the safety of the closest open room – some empty bedchambers
of some sort. It was as good a
place as any to spend the night, and considering opening the door might put him
face to face with an irritated elf, he leaned his axe in a corner and prepared
for bed.
Notes