Friendly Wagers

Chapter Six


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 his 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 d thd 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 wasnt int 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 t” S” 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, guregure 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.