Legolas Thranduilion, oftimes called The Green Knight, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien

To Bandobras Took, son of Reginard, nephew of the inestimable Peregrin Took of the Tower Guard, Crickhollow

My Dear Bandobras,

Gladly did I receive your last epistle in the latest dispatches from Arnor; with it came also a letter from the Mayor of Hobbiton, Master Samwise Gamgee, elucidating the tale you related concerning the barrel of wine at your cousin Violet's wedding.  I am obliged to tell you, though I heartily disapprove of an esquire of mine behaving in such a fashion, so loudly did I laugh upon its receipt Galás and Kaimelas came to me at a run, and after I had related to them your little adventure Galás was so enthralled by your audacity he suggested to me a resurgence of such a game at our next celebration.  Kaimelas, though he did smile, berated him, saying such actions were not befitting Elves of high rank; poor Galás had no choice but to accede, though as usual it pained him to do so.

Construction is nearly complete upon my tower.  Our dear friend Gimli has created for me a veritable sweep of pearly marble, replete with scrollwork and carven buttress; mine own artisans have placed about and within statuary and fountains of marvelous beauty, and I have caused to grow here flowering vines, tall oaks (which you will no doubt recall are the sign of my house), fragrant brakes of herbs, and lilies about all the pools and waterfalls.  There is when you enter here a spirit of deep refreshment, cool and soothing to the soul, so that all who come to call desire greatly to stay; tranquility rests upon our heads like a heavy coverlet, and here the sun shines the brighter, the stars twinkle the merriest, the moon gleams the whitest upon my realm.  How greatly do I desire your return!  I would see your dear face light up, your brown eyes widen at the spectacle herein; it would please me greatly to have you here with me, for I miss my little esquire, and betimes find myself lonely for your bright company.

But my people are happy here, and our mortal neighbors greatly satisfied, so I suppose I must be too; we have built talans in the trees, great houses surrounded by pierced ironwork and scrolled wood, pale and full of diffuse light, and my people dwell therein, filling the air with the sweet sound of their fair voices lifted in speech, in laughter, and in song.  When the Lord and Lady of Emyn Arnen come, so delighted are they with the work we have done that I can scarce convince them to return to their own realm; Fastred in particular relishes his time here, and sometimes, when his mother permits, I keep him here with me for one or two weeks, teaching him our language and customs, and letting him play upon my lyre, for which he has developed charming aptitude.

I would be remiss did I not also describe to you Gimli's work in Aglarond.  The Glittering Caves therein throng now with his kinsmen, and it is not as I had feared before, that they should in their enthusiasm destroy more than they preserved; they are most careful, as is befitting the wishes of their lord, to do little more than chip tentatively away at the surfaces, revealing to our astonished eyes beauties more wonderful than the last. Indeed he did say to me, when last I visited him during some matter of state in King Éomer's court, that he did also greatly wish for you to see Aglarond, and to meet his folk; he is distressed that your first acquaintance with Dwarves should have turned so sour, and wants you to see that they are not as cruel and avaricious a people as you may have supposed.

King Éomer of Rohan is to be married next year; he has treated with the Prince of Dol Amroth, Imrahil, to be given the hand of his daughter Lothíriel, a great beauty, in whom the grace of Nimrodel's people does shine brightly.  She is tall, as is her father, dark-haired and gray-eyed, and merry and light-hearted as is Lady Éodild, though thankfully not so apt to quick and incessant speech.  It concerned me somewhat that she should forsake the shores upon which she was raised, and live so far inland, away from the scent of salt and the cry of the gull; however when I spoke to her of this she said to me, "Fear not for me, Lord of Elves!  My heart shall not pine within me, for it so overflows with affection and gentle esteem for my betrothed, that I scarce can contain my joy, and break betimes into song, so that all thoughts of my homeland are banished and I am filled with bliss."  When Gimli heard this he gave a great snort, and said only he hoped the lady understood well how loudly her future husband can snore, for that might impede her bliss somewhat.

I erred greatly in relating these doings to my Lady Mother; she has, as you know, these past centuries, in especial the past eight years, since I became Lord here in Ithilien, to see me wed myself, and such descriptions have served to inflame her further, to my dismay, and to Galás' delight.  I am not certain whether he enjoys more the prospect of my nuptials, or my discomfited expression when the subject is breached; he has admitted to me my Lady Mother did charge him with this, that I be wed before two years have passed.  I beg you, therefore, my dear Little One, to come to me quickly, perchance passing through Eryn Lasgalen first, to so dissuade them, or at least to distract them, and provide for your poor Master a means of escaping this indignity.  Opinion hereabouts is split fairly evenly upon this subject – my friends Aldamir of Amon Din and Lord Faramir alike think it a capital idea; Lady Éowyn and Queen Undómiel are not so sanguine, and both ladies fear I shall be constrained to agree to a union for which I care little. 

Well, that is neither here nor there; we can do nothing about it at this stage, save feign ignorance when the subject is broached, or perchance flee in abject horror when yet more maidens are paraded before me during the many feasts and gatherings here.  It becomes ridiculous, my dear Little One, and soon I shall be a laughing-stock; the Elven Lord who was pursued to the matrimonial altar by a flock of Elven ladies, to turn desperately at bay before being overrun.  Gimli at least does not laugh about it, and I am sure you shall not either; that is my comfort in all this.

Well, Meivel has informed me the new postings are ready to be delivered to Lake Nenuial, and the courier awaits only my seal upon this missive; I pray you give my deepest regards to your Uncle Peregrin and Cousin Meriadoc, and to your venerable mother as well, and beg you to write to me soon.  And I ask you to remember that I remain

Your loving Master,

Legolas

Bandobras Took, Crickhollow, Buckland

To Legolas Thranduilion, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien

Dear Master,

Well!  That last letter was certainly an eye-opener!  I didn't know which to do, to laugh or to shout with frustration, and I'm sure you're just as bewildered as I.  What a conundrum your mother's put you in!  Why, I'm sure it's even worse than it was for poor Cousin Merry, when his dad put such pressure on him to marry Estella Bolger; I thought he'd go mad with frustration, really I did.  But they're safely wed now, and expecting a baby too; Uncle Pip's in such a state I'm surprised he isn't knitting booties himself.  Fortunately my mum's knitted enough to outfit a whole army of babies; there are so many of the little knotted bags about the place I'm starting to use them to store my teeth in.  I have a bully collection, Master, of all different sorts of teeth.  Uncle Pip says most of them are just deer and cow and pig teeth, but I have a few Hobbit-teeth from my cousin Eglantine, and some sharp ones Cousin Merry thinks are dog's, but I'd rather believe them to be wolves'.  That would be so much more exciting, wouldn't it, Master?

If you and Kaimelas and Galás were so tickled by my hijinks with the wine-barrel, I'm awfully pleased, for I think besides Uncle Pip and Cousin Merry, who thought it a right lark, and Mayor Gamgee of course, no one else thought it funny at all.  Well, Holbard did, but he hardly counts, as he gets into even more trouble than I, believe it or not!  I caught it but good when I got home; I thought my mum would have a fit and fall down on the floor gnashing her teeth, really I did.  But as it turns out it was a good thing I flubbed so spectacularly, for last week when I let the bull loose she was still comparing it to the wine-barrel, and it didn't looks so bad to her, despite the fact the bull got into the wheat field, trampled a great swath through it to the pond, got himself imbrangled in the old barrow there, and thrashed about so much he upset the hayrick, and a whole field's worth of hay was thrown into the pond.  Now, Master, it's not such a big pond as will hold a field's worth of hay, it's just a little water-hole really, so when all that hay fell in it, the bull thought it was part of the field, and ran into it; then he stirred up so much mud he mixed it up quite thoroughly with the hay, and then when he got tired he just stood there, the barrow stuck on one of his legs and a wheel impaled on his left horn, in the hot sun, and would you guess it?  The sun baked that mud and straw and water up into brick!  We had to go at him with hammers and chisels to get him out of there, and now the pond is all ruined, and there is no place to water the sheep from the lower field, and we're out a field's worth of hay, and Cousin Merry was so angry with me he wanted to thrash me, but my mother said no, I had been well punished enough for the wine-barrel and that ought to do me for now.  And as for the poor bull, he still has brick-work about his legs, and is so depressed he won't even look at the cows, which is a shame as we have a right nice one just old enough to start to calf, and I had hoped to have a cow of my own someday, and perhaps I could have had this one.  But as it turns out it doesn't look as though we'll have any calves this spring, for the bull is simply skiving off his duty neglecting the heifers like this.

Not much else is happening here, except that Uncle Pip's been walking out with a girl named Diamond who is nearly young as I am, and Grandfather's so furious he's about ready to send Uncle Pip to Minas Tirith right away, just to get him away from her.  But I like Diamond well enough, she's pretty and sassy and very sharp-tongued, and I think she and Uncle Pip would make a dandy couple.  Mum thinks so too, but she's holding her tongue, for if Grandfather knew she was helping her brother steal kisses behind the silo and letting him in after dark, I'm sure he'd have an apoplexy right there and it wouldn't matter anymore, because then Uncle Pip would be the Thain and he could marry whomever he chose.

I don't think I'll ever go courting, Master, it seems to be a pastime fraught with trouble.  Let's just you and Gimli and I be old bachelors together, shall we? 

Mother will not let me leave for Mirkwood just yet; she says she wants to see that Uncle Pip is married and Cousin Merry's new baby gets here first.  I'm awfully anxious to see you again, Master; I miss you something terrible, and I do dearly want to see your fair face again, and see your lovely new tower, and cook you up such a great meal the maids who're chasing you will throw up their hands in despair and let you alone.  But it looks as though it'll be another year yet, depending on how stubborn Grandfather and Uncle Pip are, so I'll just keep my sword sharp and go on practicing what you've taught me.

Tell Gimli I said hello and that I want to see the Glittering Caves, and tell King Éomer I said congratulations and I hope his new bride will be quite happy in Rohan, and tell the King and Queen and Lord Faramir and Lady Éowyn and Kaimelas and Meivel and Galás I miss them and can't wait to see them.

Your affectionate esquire,

Bandobras

P.S.:  Please give Piukka a sugar-lump, and tell him it's from me.

B.

3.

Legolas Thranduilion, oftimes called The Green Knight, to be known in the future as Thranduilion-married-despite-himself, Ithilien

To Bandobras Took, son of Reginard, liberator of wine-barrels, in whose hands lies the future of bovine husbandry, Crickhollow

My Dear Bandobras,

Is this not an astonishing thing, that a letter from you to me should reach me within six weeks?  The system our friend King Elessar has arranged, whereby couriers run along the roads in preordained segments to deliver letters from one stop to another, is a mark of the genius he has displayed to all of Gondor and Arnor in the execution of his duties in both government and thought, and surpasses any system I have ever seen, barring my father's of course – which does not count, as Elves possess greater stamina, and can carry letters for longer distances without rest.  Meglinidar has just returned from Dale, and says the network of prearranged roads and courier-stops is growing, carrying letters from the king in the south to his vassals in the far north and west with such rapidity that the conventional excuses for ignoring a sovereign's demands are rapidly falling by the wayside, and minor officials are scrambling for new reasons to withhold both tithe and allegiance.

My dear Little One, how I wish you were here!  The olive trees are heavy with fruit, and the vines sag beneath the weight of the grapes; it shall be a harvest bursting with bounty and goodness.  When I go out into Ithilien and see its shimmering wheat fields, the low green squares plush with plenty, the maids in their aprons and kerchiefs bearing baskets overflowing with ripe peaches and apples, the yoked oxen eating the fresh chaff from the millstones, I rejoice with my friends, for the horror and privation of last winter is but a distant memory, and we shall have abundance and prosperity once more.  The blight which spread from Rohan and Lamedon to sweep through to Pelargir and the Pelennor destroyed so much that was good and lovely, and it burned my soul to go to Araval's keep, and see the withered stalk, the thin cattle, the twisted and blackened branches of his fiefdom.  Fortunately for Minas Tirith and its surrounds, the power of the Elves held it off, and our silos were adequate for ourselves, but as you know there was great hunger in the land, for we hoarded our foodstuffs and distributed it to those who needed it most, depleting our stores and depriving ourselves in the process.  But so far as we can tell the blight has run its course, and Hador has informed us when last he passed through Osgiliath that Araval's fiefdom in Tarlang blossomed like a maid's blushing cheek in the springtime (his simile perchance was born of his own prospects, a noble-born maid named Mathaiel, whom Araval tells me is Hador's current favorite) and throughout the summer we have had consistent reports that his and Hallas' fields prosper well and things bode comfortably for this autumn.

Please inform your cousin Meriadoc that King Éomer's kingdom reeled and stumbled, but did not fall, from the famine; fortunately the grasses in the plains proved resistant to any disease and the horses and cattle were untouched.  The folk, however, suffered dearly, for all their grains were taken, and a good number of their wild animals too, upon which they depended for their meats; apparently the small deer who live in the hills near the Eastfold ate of the low berry bushes there and were taken ill, so that many died, their bodies decaying upon the ground in great herds, the only creatures benefiting from the debacle being the carrion-fowl.  But Éomer proved wiser than most kings in this, for he took notice of the dearth of game and visited these lands himself; upon descrying the great number of rotting carcasses he ordered them to be burned forthwith, thus most certainly preventing a pestilence.  We have sent to them all we could spare from our storehouses, and Lady Lothíriel did tell me when last we spoke that the periannath of the north in Eriador proved most generous in their sending of grain and smoked hams to those people.  Never let it be said that there is no love between race and race!  It astonished all in Rohan, including Gimli's folk in Aglarond, that the Little People of the Shire would think so highly of strangers to the south that they would part with their own bounty to save unknown children from starvation.  And Cousin Meriadoc did tell me the missive sent by King Éomer to the Thain in Tuckborough was put on display at something he called a mathom-house.  Do you know what this could be?  If so, dear Bandobras, please do you explain it to me; I am unclear as to why a king's letter of thanks would be sent there; is it a sort of library?

Speaking of letters, though truly I do not wish to, I received one from my father last week, which has so rankled within my bosom I feel as though my heart has turned sour, and I desire neither food nor drink.  Indeed Kaimelas has despaired of my ever enjoying food again, so greatly did this news distress me.  Do you remember, dear Bandobras, what I said in my last letter to you, that my Lady Mother did desire me to be wed, and had charged Galás with this task?  Well, she has turned my father's opinion upon itself, though by what means I know not, nor do I think it wise to know; now my Lord Father has informed me his wish is that I find a bride to aid in my rule here, and he has sent to me several names and letters patents of maids he considers "suitable to one of your exalted rank" (by which, no doubt, he means "worthy to wed the progeny of Oropher of Lindon") and bid me choose one by winter!  Bandobras, what can I say to this?  My father and mother did not meet ere they wed, for it was the will of their parents to join them together thus uniting Greenwood; to them it seems just and reasonable to request their son choose one of these unknown Elven maidens, poor creatures they are, who have been selected like plucked hens by a butcher and set on display for my perusal.  In fact my parents probably consider they are being generous with me, that I am given the choice between these five, and not simply told, "There, Legolas, you shall marry THAT one – "  In truth, I would rather have been betrothed at birth, so that I could get used to the idea for several centuries before leaping headlong into the matrimonial cauldron.

I must needs read you some extracts from my father's letter – truly it is a masterpiece of parental hegemony, though I shall spare you the worst bits, which even now cause me to squirm with imagined culpability and remorse, no doubt brought on by memories of the many misdeeds committed in my misspent youth (which, I assure you, were greatly exaggerated by my companions).  Alas for my poor father!  I shall not yet relate to you, my Bandobras, the depths of depredation to which I sank, not out of malice but of mischief; I shall leave that 'til you have safely achieved your majority, and seem to have outgrown your predilection for constructing mayhem.

Firstly he reminds me of the many years I spent alone with my troops, far from the pleasures and comforts of his hall, while we fought the evil creatures bred in Dol Guldur; how he regrets that, he says, that I missed so many feasts and dances and festivals!  "There, surely," he writes, "you ought to have found your heart's lady, when your soul was pure and untouched, and your spirit free of the fetters of the sea-longing – "  Bandobras, I lived for many centuries in my father's court; I know every single maiden who lives therein as well – how is it my youth and innocence would have capitulated such a one into my arms, when now I obviously possess no qualities to so attract them?  "Your Lady Mother and I deeply regret your duty causing this emptiness in your days, the fulfillment of which is also an obligation – "  Note you that, Little One; an obligation it now is, that I find a bride.  Then he spends five full paragraphs describing to me, in tedious detail, the work my Lady Mother has done, in the nurturing of the people, the standing of the court, the function of diplomacy, "the mere presence of so great an Elven Queen, which causes the stubborn mortal heart to falter, softening it to such a state that disputes are but a memory that fail before the gentle power which from her emanates in grace and gentle glory."  I wonder, my Bandobras, if she dictated that part?  If not I am positive he read it back to her; such accolades would have her purr like a kitten.  "Dol Galenehtar is a large demesne, a scattered people in a strange foreign land, in which knights and warriors may wander, but the families needed to strengthen its borders necessitate a feminine presence in the court – "  That is why I requested my Lady Mother's maids to come; I am aware of that.  And do I not have Lady Éowyn but a half-day's ride from me?  Often she and her noble husband visit us, and they sit beside me upon the dais and hold court – King Elessar and Queen Undómiel as well; is that not a sufficiency of womanly grace?  Indeed when they are both present there is so much grace in the room it is a wonder any of us can speak.

I apologize, my Bandobras, for inflicting this upon you; in truth I am so bemused I do not know what I should do.  And worse, Gimli is away from me, in Rohan seeing to the rebuilding of the walls at Meduseld, so that I have no sympathetic ear to which I may turn, and am constrained to rely upon your own little ear, though it is painfully far away from me, and I am all the more desperate to see you once more.

I hope that Peregrin marries quickly, and that Meriadoc's baby comes – I am very anxious to hear that you have begun your journey, and that I have something besides matrimony to look forward to.

I had put this letter down for some hours, being interrupted by Kaimelas, who informed me I had a visitor in the hall; do you know, it was the Yellow Knight himself!  He and sundry retainers had ridden up from Langstrand, on their way to pay obeisance to the King in his court, and I have just come back up to my rooms after speaking at length with him over a cup of wine.  To him I poured out all my troubles, and he, no doubt one of the wisest men I have known, did ponder my predicament for a while, and said he would think upon it, but to him my best endeavor would be to write forthwith to my Lord Father, saying I had considered the maidens selected, and found none of sufficient interest to change my mind upon the subject of matrimony.  It is not a permanent solution, he pressed upon me, but it ought buy us some time.  Elbereth bless Cirien of Langstrand!  Though now I think on it, this was the only solution open to me at this stage, and I am mortified I did not come up with it myself – I am addled, no doubt, by my disquiet; were I to fret less perchance I should think more clearly.

I shall leave you now, with many assertions that the Yellow Knight be remembered fondly to the esquire of the Green Knight, and many delightful stories and tales told of your people to him and to his folk, which serve to entertain and distract them from their worries – but that is a tale for another day, and it grows late; already Galás has come to me twice telling me the feast awaits its lord, and I am recalcitrant.  Ah, and here is Kaimelas holding open my best robes, and bidding me brush my hair – I leave you then, dear Bandobras, to whatever bedlam your clever little mind may concoct.

Your loving Master,

Legolas

P.S.:  It was a trap!  I had to break my seal and reopen this letter to tell you – Kaimelas dressed me in such finery, for there were four strange Elven maids of Imladris present at the banquet, whom he and Galás were endeavoring to impress with my beauty and availability – I beg of you, come to me quickly, ere I find my grandfather's sword, and so dispatch my seneschal and valet both!

L.

4.

Bandobras Took, though old gaffer Bracegirdle calls me "that dratted Took boy," Crickhollow, Buckland

To Legolas Thranduilion, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien

Dear Hopefully-still-unmarried Master,

I was so mad when I read your letter that I started to stomp about, then my mother heard me and told me to stop; she asked me why I was clomping about the house so and what had got my dander up, so I had to read the letter to her, and would you believe it?  She got mad, too!  But when Uncle Pip and Cousin Merry read it they laughed – thought it a right lark, they did.  Then my mother and I take the one side, that you oughtn't to be forced to do anything you don't want to, especially something as important as wed, and Uncle Pip and Cousin Merry took the other side, saying Galás and Kaimelas had every right to do as your mother wished, and that they were surprised at Mother for taking your part against your parents; then Fatty Bolger came in, who is Cousin Merry's brother-in-law, and asked what all the fuss and pother was for, and when HE had read the letter he said he thought it strange there was an Elven land with only an Elven lord and no lady; weren't all Elven lords supposed to have ladies, for that's how he'd heard it off Mad Baggins – then Cousin Merry back-pedaled, saying how Lord Elrond of Rivendell, what you call Imladris, had no lady-wife in attendance as she'd gone on over the Sea, but then Uncle Pip said he had his daughter there and that counted as a lady in attendance over the household, so then Fatty said maybe you should have a daughter instead of a wife, and Mother got very huffy over that, saying the wife had to come before the daughter, and Cousin Merry said, why doesn't Legolas just adopt a daughter off someone?  Well, everyone laughed, and it seemed awful queer to me and I said so, that you didn't need a lady at all, you were doing quite well without one, and Cousin Merry said:  "I think it'd be a splendid thing if he did fall in love and get married, but I don't see why his mother is pressing the issue."  Then Uncle Pip said something about the word "issue" being the problem, which I didn't understand but made Mother awful mad at him, mostly I think because I was in the room, but as I didn’t understand it I don't really think she ought to have got mad at Uncle Pip, but she's always getting mad at him anyway – she hollers at him almost as much as she does at me.  Anyway, things went round and round after that, them arguing back and forth over the subject, and what it came down to, that they finally agreed on, was this – that if you DID fall in love and get married it'd be a cracking thing, but the getting married and falling in love part – or what's more likely, NOT falling in love – that'd be a terrible bad shame, if it turned out like that, and they ought to give you more space, like, to work it out in.  But you know, Mother put forward a very good point, that you're not likely to find no one to fall in love with, for you're far too busy and by rights there aren't many Elf maids in Dol Galenehtar, are there?  And that, Master, is I think most likely what your mother and father are worried about, that there aren't enough of them for you to choose from, and that's why they keep sending them to you.

So, what were the four from Rivendell like?  Were they pretty?  Or is that a silly thing to ask about an Elf?  I bet they were pretty, for Cousin Merry and Uncle Pip both said Rivendell is chock-full of all sorts of beautiful ladies, all in lovely gowns and dresses and such, and the music and singing and so forth that goes on there makes everything seem ten times lovelier.  If you do fall in love and get married, Master, please see to it that she likes Hobbits, for I don't think I could stand it if she didn't – nor if she didn't like Dwarves neither, for then Gimli would get squiffy, and we know how that upsets his digestion something terrible.  But anyway you know that Dúrfinwen and Andunië and Seimiel and all the other ladies your mother sent you from Eryn Lasgalen do like Hobbits and Dwarves, so if worse comes to worse I suppose you could marry them in a pinch.  Well, I didn't mean all of them, just one of them.  That's something I always wondered, Master, why can bulls have all those cows, but menfolk only have one wife?  I asked my mother and she said that was a terrible improper thing to ask and to hold my tongue and then she made me scrub out the pantry, so I decided to ask Uncle Pip instead, because he says all sorts of improper things and never thinks to make me scrub out anything, and he said it was because one wife was more than enough and he wasn't even sure the average fellow could handle just the one, but he had just quarreled with Diamond and perhaps he was feeling pecky. But why is it, Master?  Not that I think I'd like to have more than one myself, what with them fighting over the kitchen and having to feed twice as many babies, but it is an interesting question.

You asked me in your last letter, Master, what a mathom-house was.   It's not a library, though there are a few books there, it's where people put valuables they don’t have any use for, but are worth too much to just throw or give away.  I went to the one in Michel Delving once, and it's a terrible crowded place, all full of dusty things most folk can't even recognize, but I did hear tell Mad Baggins had some mail shirt of fabulous make there for a while, though no one seems to know what happened to it.  I'm not sure, Master, if you'd ever be interested in that sort of thing, but next time you visit me we'll take a trip to Hobbiton, you and I, and we'll go to the mathom-house together, and we can look at King Éomer's letter.  Caused quite a stir, it has, especially as he sent with it a great bagful of gold to pay for the foodstuff we sent; Master Gamgee and Grandfather have put it to good use, repairing the smials in the Westfarthing.  So when you speak to King Éomer next, or to Lady Éowyn, which is more likely to happen first, you may tell them that his gift of gold went to chinking up the cracks in Hobbit-holes against the coming winter.  And I tell you, Master, I wish I were in Gondor, for the size of the furry caterpillars promises a fierce one, and after last winter being so bad I'm not sure the old folk can handle that much snow again.  But it is bully fun to slide down on a board plank, isn't it?  Do the children of other races do that too, take board planks off old sheds or barrels, sit upon them, and slide down the snowy hills to the bottom?  It's awful fun, Master, though I did get in hot water last winter, when Dingle Bracegirdle and I took that old barrel apart to make something to slide down upon, but we thought it was too old to be of any use to each other, and anyway no one told us Dingle's Dad was thinking of using it to catch rainwater, because no one ever tells us anything.  Did you ever do that when you were an Elfling, Master, slide down a snowy hill on a plank, or is that undignified for a prince?  A shame if it is, anyway, and if so I'm glad I'm just an ordinary Hobbit after all.

You be sure to tell Galás and Kaimelas that it was very unfair of them to trick you so, putting you in fancy clothes and parading you about like that.  Makes you look no end a popinjay, though I'm very sure the ladies appreciated it, for you are very good-looking, Master, if I do say so myself, and if Kaimelas dressed you I bet you looked bully.  Did you wear your silver oak leaf circlet too?  I always think of your mother when I see it, for I remember her wearing it the first banquet I attended in your father's palace, and how pretty she looked in her green gown.  What does Gimli think of all this?  Why isn't he married?  I don’t think I've ever even seen a Dwarf woman, Master; what do they look like?  Is it true they have beards too?

The bull got out the other day, but this time it was not my fault, so I didn't feel near so bad as I ought when I went out on the hunt for him.  Unfortunately we found him down in the gully by the river, where he'd fallen and broke his leg.  He is too old to slaughter, for his meat would be terribly tough, but no one is sure his leg will mend, for he's far too stubborn and heavy.  How I wish you were here, Master!  You would sit with him and sing to him and tell him everything would be all right, and then I'm sure he'd lie still and wait for the leg to heal and everything would be right as rain.  But you're not here, Master, which is a terrible pity, for if you were perhaps your mother would let you alone, and Galás and Kaimelas too, and you would have a break from having to dodge all these young ladies.  I'm sure that must be exhausting, what with all the other things you need to attend to.

I wish I was in Gondor eating olives with you, and watching the sun set over Mindolluin like a ball setting itself upon a spike; I wish I was sitting on one of the high walls in Osgiliath looking at the moon, which right now is shining on my paper, as I am writing in bed without my mother knowing it, and she'd be awful cross if she found me out, what with the ink stains and all.  But I just had to write, Master, for my heart is so full of thoughts of you I felt I would burst if I didn’t get them out.  And I miss Gimli so, though you'd never believe it – I even miss how he'd fuss me over the menus, and growl when I touched his blacksmith's tools, and twit me about using "Sir" and "Lord" and "Majesty" proper-like.  And I miss your father and mother, though I'm awful cross with them right now, and I miss Lady Éowyn and Queen Undómiel and Hador and Lord Aldamir and – oh, everyone, Master; I love the Shire and I shall always know I have family here, but I love Ithilien and I miss you something terrible, and I shall always be home when you are near me.

Estella's still not had her baby, and Uncle Pip has stopped walking out with Diamond – at this rate I'll never get to Ithilien!

Tell Galás to behave himself, or I shan't teach him how to pull that trick with the wine barrel that got me in so much hot water.  And give my love to everyone, and to all the knights who are nearby, but especially to Hador.  And tell me all about Mathaiel!  What is she like?  Is she good enough for him?

Please write to me, and please, please, don't get married without telling me first.

Your affectionate esquire,

Bandobras

5.

Legolas Thranduilion, Still-Unmarried Son of the King of Eryn Lasgalen, Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien

To Bandobras Took, Moonlight-Writer, My Defender and Friend, Crickhollow

My Dear Bandobras,

So delighted was I to both receive and read your latest epistle, Little One, I felt it essential to answer it at once, thus perpetuating my private fantasies that you are naught but a day's ride away and we correspond in jest.  How I miss you, my Bandobras!  I think of you every morning, when the sun alights upon a certain hill which is covered with snow, its gold and blue shifting to silver and white as the morn wanes; I imagine you to myself, wrapped warmly in wool (for would not your mother scold me, were you to fall ill due to my neglect!), seated upon a plank of wood fitted with runners and a handle, sliding down into the deep bank below with the rest of the children of Osgiliath and Dol Galenehtar.  Indeed this very morning I stood upon the high balcony of my bed chambers, leaning upon the railing and watching the little ones trudge up the slope, seat themselves upon their sleds, and shoot down fast as arrows sprung from the bow-string, hair flying, laughing and shouting, their dear little faces burnished red from the cold air's kisses.  For yes, my Bandobras, as you may have guessed, we hold the midwinter's festivities in Dol Galenehtar this year, and all the families in Osgiliath are with us for this week's celebration; the parents drink and eat and dance upon the rush-clad tile of my Great Hall, while the children play in the snow in the clearing behind my tower.  And do you know, 'twas your talking of sliding upon planks that so inspired one of my craftsmen, Hwindiö, to make these little sleds for the visiting children, which they have dubbed "Bandys."  Does this not make your little heart to swell with pride?  Think you upon the delight your impetus has brought to us, that these children who last winter pined and starved, may thus delight themselves in play during their sojourn here, due to naught but several lines in a letter to me!  Ah, dear Little One, how I wish you were here to see it, the final fruit of your musings!  It would fill your heart with joy to hear them laughing so; it fills mine I know, and almost makes me to wish I had children of my own.

Well, now I know the meaning of the word "mathom-house!"  I was able to use it in fine company too, when last month I was in Rohan for King Éomer's wedding; I had heard that some words common to the Hobbits of the Shire were used also in the language of the people of Rohan, so during one of the feasts, when one of the King's knights – Haldeth, I believe his name was – spoke of artifacts he had found in the Druadan, I suggested, with downcast eye and diffident voice, that he put them in a mathom-house.  At once all eyes at the table were turned to me, some in puzzlement but some in surprise; I smiled, and Lady Éodild exclaimed:  "Why, I know that word!  That is a word my grandmother used to use many, many years ago; it means useless, does it not?  Does it not mean useless, Lord Legolas?"  And then I laughed, and explained to them where I had heard the word; King Éomer was intrigued, saying he had not thought two such divergent peoples could have similarities between their tongues, and charged one of his scribes to look into it for him.  So you be sure to tell your Cousin Meriadoc, that his speculations were correct, and his Lord would hold it not amiss were he to investigate the matter as well.

The wedding was a grand affair, of which I expected little else, for the marriage of the king of a new bloodline in Gondor's chief ally to the daughter of one of the descendents of such a one as Nimrodel is an event which happens perhaps once or twice an age.  Meduseld so overflowed with folk come to witness the ceremony that trestles were set upon the open square for the common folk to use; Gimli instructed me to tell you that over fifty pigs were slaughtered for the event, in addition to over one hundred lambs and numerous cocks, quail, squabs and pheasants.  You ought to have seen the ovens the Dwarves built for the kitchens, Bandobras; they were big as huts some of them, and in them one could bake well over one hundred loaves of bread.  The Elves of Dol Galenehtar brought seventy-five barrels of wine as a wedding gift, and I am pleased (though Gimli said I ought rather to be appalled) to report that only two were left unbroached after the wedding feast had concluded.  All praised the vineyards of the lands in Ithilien, ourselves included, for I must admit to you, my dear Little One, that after four or five helpings of the strong red wine of early vintage I raised my glass to toast the grapes as well, much to the amusement of Queen Undómiel, Queen Lothíriel, and Lady Éowyn.  After that King Elessar saluted the fields that had produced the wild fowl, and Lord Faramir toasted the grains of Langstrand which produced the flour which formed the subtleties, and King Éomer, in an inspiration of wit, raised his glass to salute the pig-sties from which had sprung the sausages.  After that incident, the ladies excused themselves, saying the hour was late and they desired to seek their beds; it was my theory however they tired of our game and wished to leave before we became much more foolish than we had already grown.

The week would have been idyllic, my Bandobras, had it not been for one thing, which Galás neglected to tell me, that a delegation from Lothlórien had come to the wedding as well; within the party, to my mother's full knowledge and consent, were three unwed ladies of high rank from Celeborn's court.  Imagine my dismay, Bandobras, when at the formal presentation, I dressed in finery that would not have looked ill on a mighty king (Kaimelas again – I have underestimated him; he is most subtle), was paraded before these maids, and seated beside one of them – "To so properly provide entertainment for our strange guests," King Éomer had said, with a wink to Kaimelas, curse him! – forced to make idle chat with her for nigh on two hours, while the other two looked on, feigning disinterest.  Did I not say to you in a previous letter, my dear Little One, that the ladies were being presented to me as hens by a butcher?  Well now my Lady Mother as butcher has changed her wares, and her son is the goose which hangs from the hook, to be inspected at will by prospective buyers!  It is fortunate indeed I have had much grounding in the gentle arts of conversation at formal functions, for so gone was I in anger and chagrin I should rather have displayed it in an unseemly fashion before the poor maids, and not restrained myself as I did.  But Kaimelas, descrying my discomfort, did apologize most graciously to me when we had gained our chambers, saying as he helped me to disrobe that his promise to my Lady Mother made so many years hence has overthrown any subsequent oaths, and he is obligated to help me to the matrimonial table.  When I complained he used that worst of weapons upon me, namely my feelings of culpability concerning his weak lungs, and so I was forced to retreat rather further back in the field than I had hoped.

You asked, dear Bandobras, several questions in your last letter, which I will attempt to answer; several of them I recall concerned ladies and the choosing of mates.  I do not think any of my replies will be offensive to your mother, so I shall attempt to untangle your enquiries in a fitting fashion.

First of all, the ladies my mother sent from Imladris were fine and lovely ladies indeed, fair to look upon and gentle in speech and manner, yet so lacking in interest to me I did not even remember their names one from the other.  They were all four dark, all four clothed gorgeously, all four quiet and studious, all four possessed of nobility of lineage and dignity of manner; however when I attempted to converse with any of them all lines of dialogue proceeded in this fashion:  "And what do you do, my lady, at Imladris?"  "I assist with the arrangement of flowers" (or the laying of carpet, or the feeding of songbirds, or the tuning of harps; you may infer their duties from these answers).  "How went your journey south, my lady?"  "It was long, my lord, and tedious."  "Do you find the lands of Gondor to your liking, or do you pine for the blessed valley whence you came?"  "Both are agreeable, my lord."  Do you see, my Bandobras?  Even Elessar admitted to me they had little to commend themselves to an Elven warrior save their countenances, and I shall be mad indeed when I commit matrimony for naught but a pretty face.

Mathaiel is a fair maid indeed, perchance too fair; beside Hador there were no fewer than four other young men dangling after her apron strings, and the strumpet did encourage them all, to my disgust, though I knew should I say such a thing to Hador I would lose his confidence entirely.  But I spoke to good Araval, who being as a father to Hador took the lad aside and gave him much good advice, which proved fruitful, for as soon as Hador withdrew his attentions he attracted those of little Lady Mathaiel the stronger, so that she threw the other four over, and now waits attendance upon poor Hador, until the day he reaches his majority, which is this spring, and comes into his full inheritance.  It is not so bad – she is high-spirited, and far too clever for her own good, though she lacks wisdom still; I yet remind myself of her youth, for she has not yet achieved sixteen summers, so perchance she shall gain good judgment with years.  At any rate Araval and I hold our breaths when they are together; Hador is so happy, and so bemused by her beauty and charm, that should she vacillate upon him again his heart will be crushed.  Let us hope this affection she does show him bears its proper fruit, and is not but a fleeting thing, for I love Hador dearly, and wish him no evil.

You asked as well why men did take but one wife; I have heard that the wild men of the far east marry numerous women, but they are barbarians, and women to them are as common chattel, so that the acquisition of another bride is not a sign of affection or stamina, but simply wealth and social standing.  And these poor women, my Bandobras, are treated like livestock, to concern themselves only with breeding and menial duties; this is not, I assure you, a state of affairs one would wish to emulate, and you may tell your esteemed mother for me that I have discouraged you in this with all purity of conscience.  I agree with your uncle:  to have one wife would be difficult; to have more than one, lunacy.

As for Gimli's matrimonial prospects; we have spoken of that before, he and I; Gimli greatly desires to marry (nearly as much as I wish to avoid it), but Dwarvish women are thin on the ground, not only in Aglarond but in Erebor and the Iron Hills as well, and Gimli did inform me that they do not look upon marriage as an acceptable social move, so that most of the females of their race remain unwed and full content to stay so.  And yes, my Bandobras, I may tell you in full confidence, having known several, that Dwarf women are bearded.  But this does not mean they are unlovely; not at all!  Gimli's mother Frera is as lovely a Dwarf as one could meet, with fair reddish hair hung in ringlets down her back and chin, wise green eyes and pale skin freckled all over like a plover's egg.  She would not, perhaps, be to your liking, but she and I are great friends (much to the chagrin of Glóin her husband), and I esteem her highly.

I know you shall inquire as to the natures of the ladies from Lothlórien whom I met at Meduseld, so I shall spare you the parchment and tell you myself.  They were fair all three, indeed unexpectedly so, and one in particular; Mirilyen her name was, possessed such keen wit and incisive intellect I found myself laughing without rancor at her clever epigrams.  She had never left Lothlórien before, and found all the lands new to her to be fascinating and full of interest, so peppering me with questions about my travels that a full two hours had passed for us at the inglenook, without my noticing.  At first I was afraid, for what would I tell my mother, should I find myself enamored of this maid?  I should look as though my capitulation were addled by but common lusts, which, my Bandobras, I admit was perhaps the case.  Yet my cares were laid to rest, when I caught the eye of one of the march-wardens who had brought them there; so far gone was he in amorous contemplation of my chimney-mate that I could with clear conscience release her to him, breathing a sigh of relief as I quit the hall, though I did notice Kaimelas scowling at me as I retreated.

Odd, is it not?  I have never contemplated matrimony before; it is having a deleterious effect upon my composure!  Were it not for my Lady Mother's insistence I should have gone on full unaware of any particular charms a maid possessed; now that it has been brought before my eyes, however, I cannot but consider each lady that passes without the thought, "And what would Queen Edlothiel think then?"  Come to me quickly, my Bandobras, before I, all bemused and brow-beaten, fall beneath the parental pressure to wed without foreknowledge some unfortunate maid!  Perhaps I ought rather to adopt someone's daughter to serve as Lady to my household – it would be less wearying, yet serve the same purpose, to have a lady's firm presence in my court.  Would your mother mind too greatly, being adopted as my child?  She could preside at feasts and banquets by my side, and that would gain me the added benefit of having you here with me as well.  Would you want that, my dear Little One, to be my grand-child and not my esquire?  Then you could call me Ifantadar, Grandfather and not Master.

At any rate, a marriage would solve some trifling problems in court, which the presence of a lady would have eradicated forthwith; I cannot always depend upon Lady Éowyn or Queen Undómiel to succor me during banquets and feasts (indeed I am sure their husbands look upon me askance as it is; perhaps this is why Elessar and Faramir are so eager to see me wed), Galás is so pressed he despairs of ever sleeping again, and the other ladies in my Hall have their own separate duties.   So it would seem, my dear Little One, that perhaps my Lady Mother was right to chivvy my father so; I had not seen it before, being too occupied with mine own duties, but the presence of a Lady of Dol Galenehtar would be most efficacious, though I am appalled to see what I have just admitted.  It is mortifying, my Bandobras, to be forced to admit one's parents were correct, and that a lady in the court would absolve me of many of my obligations, thus freeing me for more pleasant duties.

But I cannot choose now; the winter feasts are upon us, and my household is full nearly to bursting; Galás and Himbaláth and Seimiel are overrun with guests, and one cannot step to the right without trampling another's toes underfoot.  Perhaps in the springtime I shall give this more thought, but for now I am far too busy.  Would that you were here with me, my Bandobras, for in the organization of feasts and the preparation of foods you are unparalleled!  My life here would be all the richer and easier were you by my side.

Give your Cousin Meriadoc my (perhaps premature) congratulations upon the birth of his child, and tell your Uncle Peregrin this for me:  if he has found a maid of warmth and firmness of soul, with whom he can laugh and talk and be silent, he ought not to be foolish, but snatch her up immediately, lest another come along and pluck the diamond from his hand.

In sorrow we are sundered, and with hope we shall soon be reunited,

Your Loving Master,

Legolas 

6.

Thranduil Oropherion, King of Eryn Lasgalen, Prince of Doriath of Old,

To His Beloved Son, Legolas the Green Knight, Protector of Dale and Ithilien, Renowned of the Ring War, Lord of Dol Galenehtar,

Greetings.

My esteem for you, my Son, has risen to such giddying heights upon the receipt of your gift to us, that I can scarce put pen to parchment, so beset with gratitude that I stand amazed still at your offering, which lies before me upon my desk.  Yes, beloved Greenleaf, I have scarce the courage to wear mine, though your mother in effusive delight did snatch hers up forthwith to place it upon her breast with a glad laugh.  Where, Legolas, did you find such gems of purity and fire, matched all twelve in perfection and set in its gold so richly designed?  It cannot be Dwarf-make, for I know well the style of their fabrication, yet it does not seem to be either Elvish or Mannish – from whence did these brooches come?  They are surpassing splendid, and your Lady Mother did instruct me to wear mine during our next function, in Dale before King Girion, to so bedazzle the eyes of the mortals they shall be faint and weak at the sight of us as we stand gleaming and glimmering upon the dais.  Even as I write it mocks me with its splendor, catching the lamplight in its gleaming soul and casting it back faceted and scattered and rainbow-hued upon the page.  I thank you, my Legolas, for so gracious a gift; once again you have taken from me my very tongue.

Meglinidar did relate to me, my Son, the troubles and trials in your court attendant to your seneschal's and valet's endeavors to have you wed; I am sorry you resist this, but I am insistent that the presence of a lady by your side would release from you many duties, thus lightening your own load and making your Hall a more pleasant place.  It is most unseemly for a Lord to shun feminine company as you have done, and all the more repellent for you to rely upon ladies who own you not, to perform the duties and functions of the true hostess, as Queen Undómiel and Lady Éowyn are constrained to do through your obstinacy.  Think you upon them, my Son, and upon their noble husbands, that their visits with you would be made the lighter in duty were you to have by your side a suitable wife to ease the strain.  And though your Lady Mother does chivvy me to press you with this, I shall desist for now, for I know this topic to be painful for you, and I would spare you discomfort if I could; that is why I suggest you find a lady, to ease your responsibilities somewhat, and give you rest.

You asked in your last letter, my Legolas, the state of affairs in the southern realm; I have had a runner from Baranil, who did inform me the spiders had been forced back nearly to the ruin of Dol Guldur; there he met with a faction of Celeborn's militia, and they did confer, deciding to surround the ruin, then press in during daylight in their attempt to dispatch the foul beasts completely.  As far as campaigns go it was a success; soon, Baranil did assure me, shall they have all the stragglers gathered up and slain, so that my realm might once again have peace.  Also did Baranil tell me, that he met upon the field an Elf named Rúmil, who claimed acquaintance with you, saying his friend had met you as well at Edoras in Rohan, and you did seem most taken with her, yet as another warden had desired her you released her company to him.  It is a pity, my Son, that your interest seems fixed upon those women whom you cannot attain and who belong to others – is this perchance your method of avoiding marriage entirely?  If so it seems quite effective, though I cannot admit to liking its results overmuch.

There!  I have disobeyed mine own interdiction, to not mention marriage again.  Heretoforth I shall refer to it only as "union."   Shall that be less offensive to you, my Son?

Anyway the state of affairs in Lothlórien, as well you know, wanes with Celeborn's disinterest in rule; since the Lady Galadriel's parting his heart has withered, and their realm as well; I shall quote verbatim to you what Baranil said in his message:  "The Elves of Lórien are weary, sad, and burdened with grief; it is in my mind that they shall fade, or pass in to the West, or find other homes, which is a great shame, for still the mallyrn trees grow tall and golden, and the elanor in the fields reflect back the rays of the sun."  I suggest to you, my Legolas, that you open your gates to those Silvan brothers of ours, that if they in their loneliness and torpor seek egress they might pass through your fair land first, as it is upon the Anduin to the Sea.  That way perchance they may linger, to yet perfume Middle Earth with their grace, and swell your kingdom to greater proportions, increasing your own eminence and honor within the world of Men.

In conjunction with this missive, as a planet circles its sun, is a gift from your Lady Mother, who did assure me she had no designs concerning the subject of "union" in mind upon its fabrication; I have seen it, and it is indeed a splendid set of robes, complete with its own circlet and sash, and a jeweled belt beside, for the purpose of displaying your especial charms before the assemblies of Men.  She is sure, my Son, that no eye may be drawn from you, should you wear such an item, as it is of fabulous make and construction, and she bid me convey unto you the formation of its collar and something about its lapels, I cannot recall to mind what it was, but to her it seemed of great importance, though when I cast mine eye upon it I saw naught but lapels.  Beaded lapels to be certain, but they are lapels, and function solely as lapels, so I know not for what purpose she has impressed upon me their superiority to other sorts of lapels; however, should she press you on this only tell her that your father was dutiful and described the lapels fully.  I do not know why I should do this, for if you read this letter you may look upon them yourself and see how they differ from the lapels of your other robes – should you do so, will you explain to me why these particular lapels are of such especial interest?  Perchance it is a thing women find of great import, but to my mind a lapel is a lapel and so long as I can hook my thumbs in them when I feel lethargy due to elaborate speeches, one lapel is as good as another.  But I beg you, do not tell your mother I said so.

I have heard also, from several runners in from Imladris, that you treat with Círdan the Shipwright in Mithlond, to so contain between you the shipping routes from Lhûn to Langstrand, that the cries of agony in the trading-houses along the western coast shall echo all the way to Valinor.  How pleased I am with you, O my Son!  That you and your wise friend Cirien the Yellow Knight should conceive of such a plan, to so enrich your own lands and bring blessing upon the southern reaches of the Ethir Anduin and concomitantly open lines of correspondence previously stilted 'twixt Mithlond and the Sindar!  It is a marvelous opportunity, my Legolas, that you have initiated such ties with Círdan, who is a great and powerful lord and full of graciousness and strength; his people also are wise and practiced ships-builders and know the extent of the sailing routes betwixt Harlindon and Belfalas.  I hope that the trade delegation sent shall arrive in good order in Langstrand, where no doubt they shall meet first with good Cirien, and up the Anduin to your own fiefdom, where you, no doubt, shall greet them with all the spectacle and pageantry due the advocates of such an ancient and mighty lord.  Please, I beg of you, O my beloved Son, relay to me immediately upon their conclusion the consequences of this summit, that I may either render unto you deepest sympathy should they fail, or celebrate to highest zeniths your success (which in my mind is the most likely result).

I have had a letter from dear little Bandobras; he is quite put out with us, my Son, for our harping upon your unmarried state (there I go again, mentioning "union," I apologize, but it seems to be coloring all our thoughts nowadays), and begs us to desist in our efforts.  He also mentioned something about a bull and a wine-barrel, but the letter when it arrived was so disjointed and full of entreaties I confess I understood but little of what he spoke.  Perchance you could elucidate, my Son, so that when I reply to his epistle I shall know what it is I ought to say.  When is he returning to you, Legolas?  When will his mother relent and allow him to restore your acquaintanceship?  For I know you miss him, and desire greatly to see him once more; as a son he is to you, I perceive, and I know that you love him dearly.

You asked me, my Legolas, the final results of the lion hunt east of Dale; let me tell you this, that I have hunted lion before, and regretted its outcome, and this past experience has not changed my mind on this point at all.  Three men were killed, and four horses, six dogs, and a mule, and what did we gain from this event?  One speckled, mangy, dirty carcass with broken teeth and bloodied claws.  Was it worth the loss of life, simply to protect several herds of sheep?  I tell you, my Son, no!  I should rather have given it a propitiation of mutton for the rest of its miserable days than spend mortal blood so, and I did tell this to King Girion when he asked me later "what I thought of the sport."  I do not think my response was to his liking, but in truth I could say naught else, for it was the truth.  Perhaps, though he is slightly aggravated with my answer, it shall produce fruit, for the next lion hunt I do not think I shall be asked to attend, and that is greatly to my liking.

All in my court miss you, my Son, miss your blithe laugh and careless smile, your wicked wit and cheerful countenance, your clear voice and lithe grace; I miss you also, and though I swell with pride to think of the great work you accomplish in the South, it pains me to know you have gone from home, and that your bedchamber, in which you dreamt and played and wept and laughed, remains forlorn and vacant save for occasional visits, which shall grow less in number as the age wanes.  But this is as it must be, for as the parent one works diligently oneself out of one's occupation, and the sign of success as a father is the releasing of obligation to the child.  You are a source of joy to me, O my beloved Son, and know well that your deeds of greatness, both upon the battlefield and behind the conference table, give to me a sense of gratification and selfish indulgence, that it is my own progeny has wrought this.

Your mother bids me send her love, which I do, though it stints not from mine own.

With deepest affection,

Father

7.

Edlothiel Daughter of Ailosacathil of Cardolan, Queen of Eryn Lasgalen, beloved bride of the Equally Beloved Thranduil Oropherion,

To Legolas Thranduilion, Her Dearly Loved Son, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Renowned in the Ring War, Champion of Amon Din, Yet for Some Reason Unknown to His Mother Still Unwed,

Greetings.

I know, my Son, that you shall receive this missive at the same hour as your father's to you, though it was written several days following; when I enquired as to the contents of his letter, and learned that he relayed to you my thoughts concerning the robe I have sent, and which hopefully you have received unharmed, I knew I must make an addendum, so that you would know for certain the function of it, and the purpose behind its construction.  I beg you, my beloved Son, to relay this information unto your valet Kaimelas, and unto his servants also, that they take particular care in the cleansing of this garment, and particularly in the lapels, which have been reinforced with bone, and this must needs be removed before the garment is immersed, so that they shift not, nor do they pierce the silk, which as you know shall ruin the lapels, and cause the robe to be unusable.  I am not certain your father did relay this unto you, as he is vague upon this point when I questioned him of it, so I felt it crucial to so instruct you, before any harm come to it, as it is a garment of marvelous make, and wound about with many spells, to protect the wearer and give him deep insight.  My maids and I did weave the cloth ourselves, and Tuimtellarë did oversee the embroidery and beadwork upon it, which as you can see is in the form of the oak leaf, the chosen sigil of your house.  I hope that you shall wear it at the meeting 'twixt you and Círdan's folk, to so impress them with your wealth and splendor their eyes shall be dazzled and they all bemused may concede unto you in all areas, so that the congress shall be a triumph for Dol Galenehtar and Langstrand, and the folk of Mithlond know that the Sindar folk are deserving their exalted stature in the world of Men.  Also, my son, have I heard the delegation shall bring with them several ladies of high rank, including the ward of Círdan himself, a maid, Laustairë by name, whom he wishes to betroth presently, as her mother had been lost at sea and her father in grief did fade away; she has lived with Lord Círdan since childhood, and has now achieved her majority.

Now, my Son, I know that to you this constant dwelling upon your unmarried state is a subject abhorrent to you, and also I know well my previous endeavors, regarding the four maids of Imladris, and the three of Lothlórien, fell to naught about mine ears, yet I have not altered my opinion, and think it would be wise for you to cede the field to one richer in wisdom and more accomplished in years than you (I do not believe I need expound upon that description with a particular name) and admit to this, that your rule in Dol Galenehtar would be made the easier were there a lady at your side.  I myself do function in many capacities in this court, as dignitary, host, advisor, seneschal, advocate, patron, guardian, benefactor, and diverter by amusement during councils of state wherein the hearts of men grow hard and narrow.  Indeed I have seen it on many occasions, and your father has remarked upon it with surprise and delight, that the gentle speech of a woman, delivered in dissembling guise in dulcet voice, may do more to unravel the convoluted conspiracies of men than all the council-tables and assemblies may bring.  I boast not, my Son, for were it my wisdom or particular power I should preen, but in this it is merely the predetermined posture of a man, that his thoughts run upon a different track when in conversation with a woman, than they do while in discourse with a man.  Why this should be, only Ilúvatar knows!  Or perchance do the Valar who made us – I have often thought to myself, that Yavanna laughs up her sleeve at us, when we use our differences in this fashion.  Did she intend it so, I begrudge her not her prank, for though betimes I grow weary of such deception during councils it has its fruit, and that at the end of the day is the important thing.

At any rate you know my mind, my beloved Son, and know I wish the best for you, not desiring you shall wed the first maid who catches your eye but the one with whom you may comfortably spend eternity; also know, Legolas, the Quenyar of Mithlond are a people rich in wisdom and power, and such a union would bless the Sindar race and bring to it such benefits your kingdom would prosper for many years hence, and when at last you seek the Sea upon your threshold shall lie the grace of the Eldar, and all who step over it shall feel the presence of you, its Lord, and of your Lady, and even within its empty halls shall they find rest.

So, my beloved Son, I beg of you to open your mind, your heart, and your eyes; be not so stubborn (by the Valar I believe you are more like unto your father than to me) and so miss a good thing in your obduracy that you beggar your people.  Laustairë I have heard is a maid mild and studious beyond her years, and perchance it is this trait that shall temper your rather stiff-necked nature, and your tendency, O Beloved Son, to throw yourself into danger, when another might do just as well – I am sure, I need not expound upon this, as you well know the incidents to which I refer, that caused me upon many occasions to cover my face and shudder with fear and dread, as you did fling your immortal self before the lines of battle, in vain attempt, I am sure, to bring your life to a sudden and abrupt conclusion – for what other purpose was that action?  O to think upon the many times I wished for twin sons, as Celebrian had borne, that the loss of one would be lessened by the presence of another!  However well do I recall her plaint, that Elladan and Elrohir both were so equally reckless, her pain and dread was twofold; perchance I did well to have but one child; indeed I am not certain I could have endured you doubled.

And now, beloved Legolas, I bring before you a subject of quite a different nature, that is, the gift that you did bestow upon your Lord Father and me, namely the brooches that so sparkle and flash upon my breast to shame the stars themselves.   You need not even tell me from whom these jewels came – it was Gimli son of Glóin – was it not, my Son?  Only he possesses the skill of the Dwarves and the eye of the Elves combined, to so craft such exquisite jewelry; indeed I wear mine continually, so that I am never sundered from it, for it is far more than passing fair to me; it is splendid, not only for its physical form, but for the union of race it implies, between your Dol Galenehtar and his Aglarond; I hesitate to enquire as to the price asked, but rest in the assurance that you are not wanting, nor would your dear friend demand too much of you.  Thank you, my beloved Son, for so glorious a gift!  Know that you have reduced your father to speechlessness, and relate that unto Gimli also, for that is a happenstance not known for its frequency.  I shall wear mine at King Girion's reception next week, and so drag the visiting ladies' countenances down by their chagrin they might mop the very rushes with their chins. 

My maids send their regards, and their regrets as well; what a shame it is, my Son, that none were deserving of your regard!  Was it perchance their familiarity to you, that so dissuaded you from seeing them in a nuptial light?  If so Laustairë and her ladies' maids have the advantage, and I am anxious to hear what she is like, for so greatly has she been praised, by her friends Kalamiril and Nardanë in particular, my curiosity quite overcomes my maternal sentiments, and I would like to see how well she performs upon the banquet floor, if she is sufficient in poise and stamina to endure us.

Remember to tell Kaimelas about the lapels!  It is very important, I do not want any harm to come to them.

In sorrow we are so sundered, and with hope we shall meet soon,

Mother

8.

Legolas Thranduilion, The Green Knight, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Also Known as Legolas the Merry, Legolas the Fair, Legolas the Valiant, and Legolas the Benevolent,

To His Royal Parents, Their Majesties Thranduil Oropherion and Edlothiel of Cardolan, Jewels of Eryn Lasgalen, and Pole-Stars of Sindar Hearts,

Greetings to you, beloved parents mine!  Are not those accolades, which weigh upon your son's head as chattering birds nesting upon the boughs, inelegant and mortifying?  Yet Galás assures me he heard these titles laid upon me with his own ears at Minas Tirith, where gathered there many delegates, council-members, and knights of the surrounds for congress with Aragorn, when I was absent; he did tell me Queen Undómiel and he shared their mirth in secret, so as to not discomfit the givers of these titles, yet both agreed that it is far too soon to give to me such marvelous superlatives, that would not ill befit the annals of some historical tome of old.  "Legolas the Valiant"!  I blush to even write it, but do so anyway; it is good for my humility.

And that, my Lord Father and Lady Mother, is precisely what your son requires, for now I have paraded myself clad in such splendid garments as my Lady Mother has sent, I am regarded by all (save Lord Faramir and King Elessar, who know me well, and their ladies both, as they are possessed of healthy senses of humor) in Osgiliath, Minas Tirith and its surrounds, as the Jewel of Ithilien (indeed I apologized profusely to Lady Éowyn, who in my view is more jewel-like than I, and more deserving of such a title), and so ardently did the eyes of the assembly follow me in my procession up the aisle to the throne in the White Tower that I had great effort extended to not blush, and gained the dais with a sigh of relief, only to find to my mortification that the ladies present in Aragorn's court did look upon my garments and groan to themselves, for I was arrayed much more splendidly than they!  Indeed my friend Mardil of Ethring, as you know the Silver Knight, when I approached did look upon me in awe, and related to me afterwards that I did o'ershadow every lady  in the room, and every man as well; upon seeing my expression of chagrin he insisted:  "But it is not a bad thing, for you do not seem to me to be foppish like Orodreth is; instead it is as though one looks upon the moon and finds it passing fair, until the sun rises and all fades in its splendor."  That did not soothe me at all, and I told him so; he looked surprised, and said:  "But you must know you are fair, O Green Knight; you wring the hearts of every maiden you pass, and some of the matrons beside."  Surmising my discomfort he desisted and comforted me by saying:  "But fear not, my friend; we begrudge you not this, for we know you are a-courting, and it is the brightest plumage wins the hen."  Well, from that point on in the evening I had but one thought, and that was to crawl beneath the banquet table and hide until it was over, as I did when first Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian came to visit us so many years ago; I thought me upon your response, my Lady Mother, remembering still the pinch upon mine ears, and sat upon my chair instead, enduring the comments and admiring looks and masked behind an aloof and demure façade, though within I writhed in an agony of abasement.

So I thank you, beloved parents both, for the keen lesson in modesty you have taught me through the giving of these robes – I am sure it is a skill I shall be constrained to practice at length these coming years, at least until my garments have been worn sufficiently and are no longer suitable to be used in polite company.  Are you certain, my Lady Mother, that the spells interwoven in the cloth do only contain protection and insight, and not aggrandizement?  I am supposed to wear them at the reception in my Great Hall for Lord Círdan's delegation, and I greatly fear I shall outshine even Lady Éowyn should I do so.  But she assured me it matters not to her, as I am the Lord of Dol Galenehtar and the chief host; she is but an addendum, she said to me, and added, "Besides, my friend, I dearly love to hear the hearts break when you enter the room."  I cannot but think there is some deeper motive in the formation of these garments you have given me, and I need not be wise as Cirien to so infer it.

But anyway they are quite splendid, so that even Gimli was astonished, and he and Náin and Grór and Frerin did so exclaim over its intricate workmanship and fine detail that I quite forgot my embarrassment, and allowed them to poke and prod and finger and feel the embroidery until my chagrin had faded and I was able to at last enjoy the evening, knowing they did not think ill of me for dressing so.  Indeed Gimli hovered at my elbow, frowning thoughtfully and toying with the hem of my lapel, for most of the eve, so that I was spared much chaff from my friends, or idle conversation from diverse ladies disguising their admiration behind inquiries of, "The weather was quite mild today, was it not, my Lord of Dol Galenehtar?" and "Do you not find the subtlety a delightful concoction this eve, Lord Legolas?"  And yes, my Lady Mother, it was Gimli himself who fashioned the brooches; he was delighted and abashed you discerned his work, and expresses his satisfaction you are so pleased; also he said to you, that the boning in the lapels is clever, but should he have ample opportunity he shall replace it with whale-bone, which is sturdier and more flexible.

My Lord Father, you did enquire of me in your missive, what the meaning was behind my Bandobras' hints of bulls and wine-barrels; rest assured he has not succumbed to madness, but it is only his charmingly obtuse method of writing; as to the wine-barrel I shall relate that story to you in his presence, for it is quite amusing, and would cause much mirth about a banquet table, especially were he present to add his little comments and descriptions.  He is as you said not sanguine about my matrimonial prospects, desiring instead to keep me unwed and unfettered, for which I blame him not; most likely it is that he wishes to choose my bride for me himself, and does not trust me to make a prudent choice.  For myself I quite agree – I trust not myself as well, for my mind is so taken up with the worries of my demesne, and the doings of my neighbors, and my heart so harried by thoughts of the treaty with Mithlond and my concerns in Langstrand, that I can scarce spare a moment to think upon the problem of marriage, much less upon the finding and courting of a suitable maid.  But I promise you both, my Lord Father and Lady Mother, that should such a one in Círdan's circle attract my eye, I shall pursue it directly, barring, naturally, the insertion of another suitor into the mix, for triangles are suitable geometrical shapes save where courtship is concerned.

Galás and I are quite busy at this time, for spring shall come in a scant few months and we must be ready for the pruning and planting.  We have planned new vineyards for the east flank of my lands, for it is rocky and sunny there, and a great wind blows down through the valley scoring the earth; perfect conditions for the growing of fine grapes, and the production of wine.  The vineyards shall comprise some twenty hectares (though the land is perpendicular to the horizon and not parallel, which shall cause no few headaches during its care), increasing the area of vineyards to forty-three, no small square this!  And my friend Mardil has given us many cuttings from his own vineyards in Ethring, which are renowned for their fineness and subtlety of flavor; also we have seeds from Dor-en-Ernil purporting to be the very pinnacle of grapely nobility.  I hope that they are, for they cost me enough, and the lord of Dor-en-Ernil is a surly and unlikable man, and very grasping; our negotiations with him and with his retainers leaves still upon my palate an unpleasant aftertaste, which I trust shall not confer itself to my wine.  Also we have cleared a great forest of tangled underbrush, and revealed an extensive grove of old olive trees, perhaps well over one hundred years, and thick with branches; we shall prune and tend them, and see whether or no they bloom for us.  If so we may increase our oil production by some seventy-five per cent, which, when one looks upon the exchequer, is not an insignificant amount.

In short, beloved parents both, my spring promises to be quite busy, for I shall be pinched between my demesne and the many endeavors I have stirring here, and my social obligations in other fiefdoms, such as Hador's wedding in Tarlang, the imminent birth of Aldamir's second child (since my debacle with Lady Éowyn and her Hísimë in the Druadan he has requested my presence, much to my vexation; I do not mind attending the naissance celebration, but to wait upon his lady in the bedchamber with the other leeches is not I deem a proper occupation for a neighboring lord; I have told him this but he is adamant that I be at hand; perhaps in future tomes I shall also be known as "Legolas the Midwife"), several banquets in Osgiliath and Minas Tirith for visiting dignitaries (including our friend King Girion of Dale), Hallas and Dirhael's reception in Lossarnach, and diverse others; poor Hirilcúllas is quite beside herself in her attempts to so order my schedule, and oftimes when we sit and look upon the great parchment chart she has drawn up we can only groan in vexation; even Galás, gregarious as he is, begins to weary of the festivities, observances, carnivals, and tournaments I am constrained to attend; he said to me just last week he wished to send out a notice that I had gone on to Valinor, so that I would no longer be obliged to attend every gathering in Gondor.  Indeed I know not why I am so continually invited out to these galas; I do not mind parties and fêtes, but this is becoming rather ridiculous, and is intruding upon my time in Dol Galenehtar and its surrounds.  Perhaps I ought rather to call myself "Legolas the Preoccupied;" then my friends, acquaintances, fellow lords and knights, and other such colleagues would let me be, so that I might accomplish some little work here, or at best find an hour or so to walk out into my demesne, and so refresh my soul.

My Bandobras' dear mother will not relinquish control over her son until two events occur, that is, the birth of Meriadoc's child, and Peregrin's marriage; the infant I am sure has arrived in due course (indeed it is not the sort of thing one can put off for long), but the wedding is another thing entirely; the last letter from my esquire related the tale of the quarrel that separated Peregrin from his Diamond; I have written also to the future Thain, and remonstrated him, as it is unseemly for one of high ranking to flout his suit and then withdraw so.  I know not whether my words shall have any effect, but I have done my best to mend their rift.

And now, Lord Father and Lady Mother, I must quit you, though I have enjoyed this disruption in the normal carrying out of my duties; Hirilcúllas, Galás, and Kaimelas have all come in, each with their separate plaint:  Hirilcúllas, to collect my correspondence and send it with the rest of the post through Osgiliath (she will be most wroth with me, when she discovers I have yet to reply to Orodreth's trade proposal); Galás, to inform me a delegation from the workers upon the Rammas Echor has arrived to deliver unto me their grievance against my accords with Aldamir, and Kaimelas to entreat me to change into more suitable garments, as I am still clad in my riding clothes from my circuit about the vineyards this morning, and that is unsuitable to my current tasks.  Therefore, I must leave you, beloved parents both, to mine own duties, but believe me when I assure you I remain

Your beloved Son,

Legolas

Legolas Thranduilion, The Green Knight, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien

To Bandobras Took, my Esquire,

My Dear Bandobras,

So harrowed up am I in my mind, dear Little One, I can scarce apply myself to the giving of tiles and accolades.  It is late winter, bleak, cold, wet, and all the earth waits breathlessly for Spring, for the first caress of warmth, the lengthening of days, the blush of green upon the bough – all save your Master.  For Spring brings to me the trade delegation from Mithlond, containing within the maid my Lord Father and Lady Mother hang their hopes upon, and I shall be constrained to feign gentility, though within my breast beats the heart of rebellion.  I have made to deceive mine own parents, my Bandobras, by allowing them to believe I shall look upon this further ignominy with equanimity, when in truth courtship and marriage are far from my plans and I desire only that they let me alone, so that I may apply myself to my work.  And, my Bandobras, when I set my plaint before them, that I am far too preoccupied, they press upon me the argument that a lady in my court would release me from many of my more tedious duties, allowing me the leisure to pursue the larger work unhindered!  I cannot argue with this, but I feel it would be unfair to this maid, this Laustairë, to marry her expecting only for her to run my household, whilst I occupied myself with the rest of the demesne.

I know you shall ask, my Little One, so I shall tell you all I know of her; she is young, having only just achieved her majority (this is the age, I may tell you, the greater part of my folk are betrothed), and an orphan; her mother died at sea, her father faded from grief, and she has been raised in Lord Círdan's household since infancy.  All reports say she is quiet and studious (my mother thinks this shall balance my own undeniable tendency to leap first and look later), and dearly loved within her own household; my Lady Mother takes this to mean she shall be the ideal codicil to her son, though she has neither met nor spoken with her.  O my Little One, what shall I do?  I know what I shall do – I shall greet the delegation, treat the maid with politesse and modesty, and go unto the council chamber with Cirien to work out the details of the trade agreement.  We shall hold banquets and feasts and dances, and Lord Faramir has organized a small tournament (jousts only, and I shall take a part this time, as there is no prize to rob from the other entrants), and they shall return to Mithlond, and I will send a letter unto my parents, saying there were no especial charms in the maid to compel me unto marriage.  And my Lady Mother shall express her disappointment, and set about the task of finding yet another unwitting victim of her strategy, to fling her at my head as one throws balls of snow – the simile is drawn from a scene without my balcony; there Fastred and several of his friends play at battle using balls of snow as missiles – and it is an apt simile, I see, for each maid that strikes me disintegrates into a cloud of ineffective powder, as does the snow.  Aldamir said to me when last we met that he found I had become aloof – am I aloof, my Bandobras?  I do not mean to be, but the past year I have fended off the attentions of so many maids I feel I am constrained to hide behind a detached façade. 

Yet even I cannot dwell upon this subject for long without good humor being restored – perchance it is that I write to you, my esquire, and the thoughts of your merry little face and piping voice so drive out my bleak ruminations I am compelled into cheer; perchance instead it is that I have just observed little Fastred so thoroughly trounce his enemies I am filled with pride, that the boy has the marks of a true and skilled warrior upon him.  How could he not, with two such brave and noble parents?  He asked me only this morn, when we broke fast together upon the lower balcony, if he could return for a time after the first thaw, when the snows melt, so that he and his companion may go unto the tailrace to see how loudly it roars; at first I agreed, but Hirilcúllas and Seimiel, who were seated with us, looked upon me with such horror I bethought perhaps I had erred; later Seimiel did tell me of two boys who had been playing upon the tailrace in years past, who had slipped upon the wooden slats made slick by mud and drowned in the rushing flood.  (She says she heard this tale of Imilmeth, a woman in Osgiliath, and one of Lady Éowyn's servants.)  At first I argued that Fastred was far too sensible to endanger himself so, but she reminded me of what he had done in the kennels his last visit, and I was constrained to agree that perchance he lacks the wisdom necessary for such an outing.  So tonight when I tuck him into his small cot I shall amend my decision, that he may not visit the tailrace save I am with him.  He shall argue with me, for he is high-spirited and independent, but I should fall far derelict in my duty to his noble parents were I not careful with his well-being.

Hísimë by contrast is a quiet and sedate child, preferring the company of the ladies in my household to the warriors as Fastred does; while her brother is off in the armory with Meivel or Himbaláth, peppering them with questions and queries and attempting to challenge them to duels with swords he can scarcely lift, Hísimë sits in the lower garden, surrounded by her dolls and toys, and puzzling out words in the books I give her.  She is fascinated by the pictures in the book of Turgon and Thorondor, and asks many questions about the tale; I love to watch her, the pretty little child, her pale curls framing her cheeks which bloom with roses.  I am very anxious, my Bandobras, for you to come and make their acquaintance; tell your uncle to hasten to the altar, lest I come to the Shire myself, and bear you and your mother away to live with me!  It has been far too long since I have seen you, and I pine for your company, for your cheerful countenance and brazen laugh, for your hands at the kitchen till and your voice lifted in song.  Can you not impel your mother to let you come?  Or perchance will your Cousin Meriadoc bring you, when he goes to visit Rohan next year?  Even then that seems to me too long a time to wait; we have waited nearly ten years already, and I am growing impatient to see you again; it seems nearly an age since last I sojourned in Arnor with King Elessar's company, when they went to Nenuial and Gimli and I rode to meet you in Bree.  From what you have told me in your letters you have changed much, growing both taller and broader, and better skilled with sword and spoon, as befits a Hobbit-warrior of your stock.

Fastred has just called up to me, that he requires my assistance upon the field of battle; as I can refuse him little I shall break with my correspondence here, and play with the children a while, if I can but slip past Hirilcúllas with my appointments-book, and Galás with my other correspondence, which requires my attention.

***

There, my dear Little One; it is now dark, and Fastred sleeps deeply beside his sister upon my own bed (I was reading to them from the Valaquenta, but their lids were so heavy they dropped into slumber almost immediately after I read them the tale of Ulmo); I did manage to escape both Hirilcúllas and Galás for an hour or two, wrestling in the snow with Fastred and his friends, and afterward assisting Hísimë in the library with her doll house (a gift from Gimli, and of marvelous make).  How I wish I had the leisure to do this more often!  For though betimes this winter I have been able to spare the hours for such dalliances, come Spring I shall be overrun with work and activity, so that I fear the children of the Lord and Lady of Emyn Arnen shall scarce see their "Lord Lassah," as they call me, and these visits shall be delayed until the Autumn, when – I hope – I shall bid the delegation from Mithlond farewell, and return to my tasks with lighter heart.  What can I do, my dear Little One, to convince my Lord Father and Lady Mother to desist in their efforts to find me a bride?  I feel neither need nor desire for one; rather would I wait until some fair maid has charmed me into submission of her own will, than to be thrust so upon me.

Well, I have many other tasks to attend to this eve, as my time with Fastred and Hísimë delayed me somewhat (as Hirilcúllas does not tire in telling me); I have yet a stack of parchment to sift through, and other missives to write, so that I shall be obliged to closet myself in my study until the sky grows pale; therefore I shall leave the children to slumber upon my bed, as it seems unlikely I shall have need of it this night.  Write to me quickly, my Bandobras, and so soothe my trammeled heart; remind me how you love me, and that you shall come to see me anon, so that I may forget my parents' machinations, and my many other duties here for a time, and I might pretend to myself we are able to simply mount Piukka and Thistle, and ride down to Osgiliath for the day to visit Miriel and her grandfather, as we used when you were here.  How I miss you, dear Little One! 

Galás and Kaimelas send their love, and desire also to see you again, and Hirilcúllas bids me give you her greeting, though it is overshadowed with her desire to see me put pen to parchment in a more productive fashion.  Care well for your dear mother and kiss her for me, and tell all surrounding you to be well and happy.

Your loving Master,

Legolas

10.

Bandobras Took, Esquire of the Green Knight of Dol Galenehtar, Crickhollow, Buckland, the Shire,

To Legolas Thranduilion, his Royal Highness, of the Nine Walkers, Dwarf-Friend, Lord of Ithilien,

Greetings.

Isn't that a bully way to start a letter, Master?  Cousin Merry showed me what to write.  It sounds awfully grand, doesn't it?  But I cut out about half of the titles – I wasn't sure it would be quite proper to call you "Fell-Beast Bane" or not.  It sounds a bit dodgy to me.

Well, I got your letter the same time as I got a reply from your parents – I don't think your father quite understand me sometimes, but then, he doesn't actually understand you either, does he?  I mean, really – what's so difficult about a wine-barrel, or not wanting to get married?  Sounds fairly straightforward to me.  But then I'm only a Hobbit and not an Elven King and perhaps they have different standards than the rest of us folk.  Anyway your father sounds kind of hopeful – like Uncle Pip does now, when he talks about Diamond (he thanks you for your advice, by the way – certainly did do the trick, they're practically sitting in each others' pockets now) – thinks you'll find this Laustairë (what does that mean, Master?  Does it mean anything, or is it just pretty sounds?) to be more to your liking than any of the other young ladies he's sent your way.  We don’t know much about her yet, do we, Master?  Except that she's young – for an Elf, anyway, that could mean anything, you know – and quiet – are you sure you'd want a quiet wife, Master?  Not that you're thinking about marrying her anyway, but if you were, wouldn't you want someone with a bit more snap, like Seimiel?  She gives as good as she takes, like my mother says; you wouldn't get a blink out of her for any of your hijinks.  She might yell a bit, but Cousin Merry says yelling's what a wife does best anyhow, and I guess he'd know that pretty well, seeing what Stella's turned out to be like.  Though don't tell them I said that – I like Stella fine, she's just got awful loud since the baby came.  But maybe that's just so's she'll be heard over the baby yelling.

O Master, I didn’t tell you about the baby, now did I?  My, he's a squaller, that one, but awful cunning anyway – he has the prettiest brown curls all over his head, and bright black eyes, and cheeks like apples.  And I do love his hands, Master; little dimpled paws with such tiny little fingers, each with its own little bitty fingernail – how do they get fingernails that small, anyway, Master? – they've named him Saradoc, you know, after my cousin, his father.  Uncle Pip says if he ever has a son he's going to name him Faramir.  That'd be a real treat to his lordship, wouldn't it?  Not that Lord Faramir hasn't got his hands full already, what with two children and one on the way, but to have someone name their son after you, well, Master, that'd be a real feather in your cap, wouldn't it?  Would you mind if I named a child after you?  "Legolas Took" sounds well, I think.  Don't you think so, Master?

Now here I go, marrying myself before I've even met a suitable maid!  If I'm not careful I'll end up in your shoes, so het-up about this matrimonial question we can scarcely think save we stick some young lady into the equation.  I've said it before, Master, and I'll say it again – I think you and Gimli and I ought to just stay being bachelors, and let these lasses all go hang.

I dearly wish I could come see you right now, Master – your letter made me cry when I read it last night, really it did.  Seems you oughtn't to be so lonely for me when you've got so many people flocking round you, and so much to do; maybe you just need to step back more, like you did with Fastred and Hísimë, and play with them a little so the work you do don't wear you down.  If I were there I'd climb right up your lovely tower (how I wish I could see it!) up to your balcony and stand beside you looking out over the valley, and I would hold your hand like I used to, and we'd stand together looking out at the hills and trees and waterfalls and the big mountains all round us, and you'd tell me the names of all the stars, and Gimli would sit behind us and smoke his pipe and grumble in that funny way of his that we're just wasting our time.  Then I'd take you inside down to the kitchens where it's warm and cozy and no one goes a-looking for you, and fix you something nice and rich and indigestible to eat and do naught but talk together by the hearth, and if any of your people, even Hirilcúllas or Galás, came to you with papers or problems I'd send them off with a flea in their ear, I would indeed, for you need a good rest, Master; you don't need to be stretching yourself so thin, it's not right.

I also wish I could see Fastred and Hísimë – you've spoke so much of them, Master, that I feel as though I know them already, and seeing as they're Lady Éowyn and Lord Faramir's children I have a special interest in them, like.  Fastred sounds a right scamp – bet Old Gaffer Bracegirdle would of told him to take himself right off!  And Hísimë sounds like she'll grow up to be a right nice young lady someday, and from how you describe her she'll be a real beauty, too.

O Master, speaking of Gaffer Bracegirdle put me in mind of the most horriblest thing that happened two weeks ago, it was so awful we're still stunned over it.  Do you remember, Master, those smials in Long Bank we went through, the ones Gimli said looked as though a strong wind would topple them?  I know he was fairly itching to get his hands on some tools to fix them, and you know, Master, I ought to have let him and not taken him gallivanting all over the woods like you and I wanted (we both know he doesn't appreciate the woods anyways, do we, Master?), so that he could fix them up, then maybe this awful thing might not have happened at all.  We had an early Spring this year, Master, with loads of rain and swollen streams overflowing their banks and all, and the Brandywine looked like those tailraces down the Anduin did, all rushing and roaring and churning and throwing things about, picking up logs and trees and bits of stuff and chucking it all over the place, scouring out its banks and tearing down bridges – well, Master, the upshot is, the water rose higher than it's ever rose before, and undercut the bank by those there holes, and they all came a-crashing down, all twelve of them one after another like a wave, and the water rushed in and swept everything out down the river, and every single one of them Hobbits was drownded.  It was a terrible awful thing, Master, for it wasn't as though they couldn't of got help to repair their holes if they'd wanted to, seeing as Grandfather and Master Gamgee had all that there gold off of King Éomer to put to good use, but Grandmother tells me when Grandfather offered to help, them poor misguided Hobbits just turned up their noses at it and said they wouldn't take charity off of no foreign kings, thank you very much all the same, good-bye.  So there's nearly eighty Hobbits dead, and a big long gash in the river bank that looks like an ugly grin with broken teeth, and nearly all the Bracegirdles in the Long Bank area wiped out just like that through Old Gaffer Bracegirdle's stubbornness, for Mother did say that it was his opinion influenced the others to turn Grandfather and Master Gamgee away.  Now, Master, I'm sorry for the Old Gaffer but I'm mad too, if it's proper to be mad at dead people (and why shouldn't it be right, Master?  They're dead, ain't they?  It surely can't hurt them now) because there was sixty-eight young ones killed alongside of the grown-ups, and they hadn't had any say at all in whether or not their holes ought to be repaired.  Why do these things happen, Master?  Why do two or three stubborn people end up making lots of innocent ones get hurt or die?  It's not fair, and it makes my insides feel all tight and hot and sick-like so's I can't even eat, and that's saying something for me, you know, Master.  It was the same way when you brought back that rapscallion Lord Eradan to King Elessar, though to call him "Lord" Eradan seems awful inappropriate, if anyone deserved to wear a peasant's smock and till a field with naught but one hoe it was that one there – I just looked on that Man, who was so greedy and desperate to stay rich he didn't care who he hurt or killed in the process – all those soldiers, and the farmers and merchants too, and the poor women and children he was just going to auction off like cows to his men.  O but it makes me mad, Master!  Makes me want to take that sword you gave me last time and go after someone and deal out some justice.  But of course justice has been dealt to poor Old Gaffer Bracegirdle, hasn't it, Master?  He won't go trying to thrash the life out of me with his stick, or kick the dogs as he used, or whip his pony about the ears when it was tired.  A right nasty old fellow, Uncle Pip called him afore he died, and Mother nearly boxed his ears for it, but it was true in the end, for all those poor children died and it was no one's fault but his.  I hope Námo pays him back right well for that.  But I am sorry for him, and that's the truth, though I hardly understand it myself – even when he was hollering at us I felt kind of sorry for him, for he lived in that crampy crouchy hole with all them kids and they were always trampling on his garden and causing a fuss and ruckus, and he was poor and it's a terrible awful thing to be poor and not be able to work anymore because your legs are all rickety and your eyes don't work so well as they used.  O I hate it when I feel this way, Master, when I don't know whether I ought to feel one way or another – do you ever have that problem, Master, or have you learned to sort it out by now?  If you have please do let me know how you do it, for these past two weeks have been awful, what with finding the bodies downstream and burying them, and trying to clean out the mess and comfort the neighbors.  But it was what you called a Munificence, Master, and I thought on that the whole time I was there working with Uncle Pip and Holbard Boffin and Mother and the rest, trying to straighten things out – you can even do a Munificence for dead folk, can't you?  And though I know they won't rest the easier for it at least their kinfolk and neighbors might.  And there is some good come out of it after all – the neighboring smial let Grandfather set aside some of King Éomer's money to repair their holes, so the same thing won't happen to them, should we get another flood like that.  So like Mother said, it's an ill wind as blows nobody any good, and at least those other fifteen holes will be nice and snug by summer, and all those Hobbit children within them will be safe.  I'll be helping out with that too, Master – another of my Munificences – Uncle Pip says it's good practice for me, if I want to be a knight of Ithilien someday.

I wish I could come to see you right away – how I miss you, Master!  I miss hearing you sing me to sleep, and I miss how you used to hold me on your hip when we danced, and I miss watching your face and your hands give off that soft white glow in the starlight, and I miss watching your hair float round your face like gold floss in the breeze, but most of all I miss sitting next to you and listen to you talk with others until I fall asleep, only to wake in my own cot and know it was you that put me there and tucked me in.  I love Mother and Uncle Pip and I love the Shire but I think I love you more, for when I'm apart from them I'm still comfortable knowing all's well, but being apart from you hurts me something terrible.  And I'd dearly love to see you joust again when Lord Círdan's folk come calling, Master!  Shall you ride Piukka and wear all your lovely green armor again?  It'd be a fair treat to watch that, and I'd give almost anything to be there at the tilt seeing you charge down, all rattly-clangy and unseat all those other knights.  For as I tell all my friends, Master, there's no one better on the lists than the Green Knight, for weren't you Lady Éowyn's champion, and the winner of the Tournament on top of fighting that great battle?  How they love to hear me talk of those tales, Master, and of the great things you did!  Though I always feel a little foolish when I tell the part of how I was silly enough to be captured by Fenbarad's men – I still blush to think on it.

Well, Master, I ought to end this letter, for if I go on I'll only ramble on the more, and it'll be so fat you'll pick it up and wonder if I've gone and written a book, as Mad Baggins did.  Wouldn't that be a fair treat, Master!  Me, writing a book?  I'd best leave that sort of thing to Cousin Merry; he's more scholarly than me, and always seems to know the right things to say, even to Estella when she's squiffy, he can make her face go all soft and dreamy in the midst of everything still.  Makes me feel funny to watch it sometimes.

Tell Galás and Hirilcúllas to let you alone for a while, and tell Fastred and Hísimë I can't wait to meet them.  You needn't tell Gimli I said anything for I've written to him too and I'm sure he's had about as much of me as he can take anyway.

I miss you, dearest Master, and I can't wait to see you again!

Love,

Bandobras

Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Dwarf-Friend, Of the Three Hunters,

To Bandobras son of Reginard, of the Right and Noble Clan of Took, Esquire of the Green Knight, Comforter of the Bereaved of Long Bank

My Dear Bandobras,

O how my heart froze within me, when I read the contents of your last letter; how horrible a thing it was indeed, my dear Little One, that all those merry and good-hearted Hobbits should come to such a terrible end!  I share with you your grief, as do all in my household; we held a commemorative ceremony for the Bracegirdles upon the lawn last night, filling our sacred ewers with fine oils and fire and sending up our prayers to Námo to succor their souls in Mandos.  Lady Éowyn, who was present with her children, was also moved, indeed to tears; upon seeing her weep her children were made aware of the terrible tragedy that had occurred.  In point of fact Hísimë was especially grieved, when she understood that so many children had perished; she wept as well, and begged of me to go straightway to the Shire to fix it immediately.  "Lord Lassah," she sobbed, "Will you not go bring them back out of the river?  You will, will you not, Lord Lassah?  Please say to me you shall bring them back out of the river!"  Well she knows, the dear child, the arrogant caprices of a great river, as the Anduin has flowed beneath her feet since birth; however the immutability of death is yet a mystery to her.  So you may tell those whom you bless with your Munificences, dear Bandobras, that the plight of the Hobbits of Long Bank has stirred my folk and the folk of Osgiliath to tears and cries of grief, and we weep with them, and pray for hope of new life this Spring.

How proud I am of you, my dear Little One, for your acts of charity and generosity in this time!  To go unto Long Bank with shovel and rake and to labor in those ruined holes, to drag the bodies from the river and deliver them unto their grieving kin, to comfort and succor your people with no thought save restitution and justice – O my Bandobras, my heart swells within me to think of it; you rightly deserve the title of Knight of Ithilien, though you have yet to achieve the full measure of your terms of apprenticeship!  What a magnificent Hobbit you shall make, my Little One; your compassion toward these unhappy folk, your kindness to their neighbors, your willingness to put your own back to work and so strengthen your word becomes you greatly; I am honored indeed to be named among your friends and acquaintances, and as your Master I am pleased and gratified to have been associated with you.  Even Gimli admitted to me he was proud of you, though he asked me not to tell you he said so, as he seeks to perpetuate his private myth that he loves you not nor takes notice of your doings.  Rest assured, though, my Bandobras, I did not promise him this, so that you may know I am not abusing his trust; I told him I should relay his satisfaction concerning your actions, and he merely grunted and told me I "spoiled that urchin beyond belief."  I took this as his consent, and so impart his delight in you, that you may be reassured he does indeed love you, as do I, my Bandobras.

My land blossoms and shimmers and quivers with Spring, my Bandobras – would that you were here to see it!  The blight which previously marred last spring and summer shows no sign of raising its rotten head, and the trees and fields blush green with new growth and flower.  Never have we had such a time of rejuvenation, and the Mereth en’Ehtelé shall be merrier and grander and brighter than any other we have held.  We have heard naught of Círdan's delegation, and hope that they shall arrive in time for the festivities, for they promise to be splendid and luxurious to the point of ostentation – we Wood Elves are not called "barbaric" by the other races for nothing! – indeed, Himbaláth, Hirilcúllas, Seimiel, Dúrfinwen, Galás, and Kaimelas do circle me in mad orbit, ordering the building of the trestles, the construction of the ovens and spits, the enlarging of the Great Hall and the dais to include the lawn and fountains beyond, the fabrication of the lamps (O my Bandobras, that you could see what Hwindiö has made!), the arrangement of the food and drink and the flowers and vines and tapestries to decorate the halls – what a marvelous celebration it shall be!  I am almost – almost, mind you, Little One – looking forward to it.  For still there mars the bloom of Spring the remembrance of the lady who comes with Círdan's folk, whom I must meet and shunt aside as I have all the other maids foisted upon me.  Almost do I pity the child, and earnestly hope she does not arrive expecting aught else of me; I know not what she has heard of me or my folk, nor do I know what hopes Círdan or his household have pinned upon my parents' eagerness to see me wed; should she anticipate a potential lover's greeting I fear she shall be deeply disappointed.  But at least we shall quell her subdued hopes with a grand and glorious festival – surely no maid will be able to resist the allure of light and blossom, lyre and drum, wine and sweet and savory that shall be laid before her.

I shall not even dignify your suggestion I wed Seimiel with a full paragraph in reply.  Suffice to say the spark of desire betwixt us two is not, nor has it ever been, present!  Why is it she and I are so constantly thrown together?  It is true, I find her company pleasant, but her impertinent habits and unguarded tongue make her a most unlikely match for me.  It would be as bad as my consenting to wed Lady Éodild!  Now, laugh, Bandobras, and admit that I am right.

The name "Laustairë" has a meaning, and a marvelous one at that, befitting an Elf born upon the Gray Havens; it is "Sea-Wind."  One thinks of salt spray and cold water and the mewling of gulls when one hears it, does one not?  And perchance she is not so quiet as rumor has painted her; the wind upon the sea roars as well, perchance as Estella does, when little Saradoc is colicky.  (I have had advice given me for Estella and Meriadoc from Lady Éowyn; she says to take an old wineskin filled with hot water, and wrap it in a flannel, and hold it upon Saradoc's belly when he squalls; that, she assures me, may ameliorate his discomfort, and in consequence theirs as well.)  It will be a passing strange thing, to have so many Elves here who have dwelt all those long ages upon the Sea, for we of the Silvan folk know well the woods and forests and trees and mountains, but little of the sand and surf and rhythm of tides.  What shall we speak of, I wonder, when we foregather?  Shall there be rich and varied conversation, full of interest and friendliness, or will it be like unto my last meeting with the Lord of Dor-en-Ernil, a quiet and stilted dialogue peppered with vague dislike?  Galás is confident and cheerful, and tells me to not worry so concerning this; he said to me, "Well, my Lord, should aught go ill about the banquet-table, we have but to serve more wine, and that will loosen their tongues aplenty."  Perhaps he is right, and I but add one more concern to my growing list in my anxiety.

Do not, I beg you, my dear Little One, marry simply so that you may produce a son to name after me!  Should your desire to have my namesake overshadow the distribution of desirable maids, well, get you a dog instead, and name him "Legolas."  I promise I shall not feel insulted.  And also, my Bandobras, though I also love you and desire to be with you, you must not so denigrate your mother and your homeland in deference to me and my own; you are at an age where your elders and their traditions seem to you to be quaint and old-fashioned things, to be thrown aside so that new ideas and different accomplishments may be acquired along with the freedom attendant to your majority.  Trust me when I tell you this:  The time shall come when you will look back upon the things you thought and said and did in this time of your youth, and you shall blush crimson with chagrin, realizing at last how short-sighted you were in your childhood, and how little you understood or appreciated your parents' will and desire for you during that time.  I say "trust me," for I speak from painful experience.  Am I not many centuries your senior, and have seen again and again this cycle of childhood to youth to adulthood, and its many foibles and cares?  Your mother understands you better than you think, and better than you understand her; after all, though you have never been a grown Hobbit, she remembers well what it was like to be a young Hobbit, and has more wisdom within her storehouse, garnered from her years beneath the circle of the earth.  So do not say to her, my Bandobras, though you speak in the heat of anger or perturbation, that you love me best and would rather live in Ithilien with me; that would cut her deeply, and wound her with your words, and you would later regret them when you came at last to realize how cruel they were.  So be a proper esquire to the Green Knight, O Bandobras son of Reginard, and treat your Lady Mother with all the honor and consideration she is due, in all politeness and gentility display before her your filial affection so that her heart may be full, and all around her consider her blessed indeed to have with her so devoted a son.

Ah, how my own words cut upon my very flesh!  Do I not rebel against my own Lady Mother and Lord Father in my heart, in that I thrust aside all their arguments and pleas that I find for myself a bride to rule by my side in Dol Galenehtar?  Have I not been guilty of that against which I have warned you, to listen to their counsel and disdain not their words and experience?  O my Bandobras, I am all the more confounded; I know not whether I come or go; my days are full of work and worry, my nights of restless sleep and midnight ruminations; this question of marriage does harrie and press upon me, so that I am perplexed and bemused by it, and it does color my perception of all I do.  Yet do not my Lord Father and Lady Mother know better than I the manner in which to run a kingdom?  Have they not for many millennia held firm sway over a dark and dangerous land, standing side by side like two strong pillars upholding their people?  How can I, then, presume my paltry wisdom is superior to theirs, and their debate secondary to mine?  O my Little One, I do not know; how I wish the stars would tell me what I ought to do – "Marry," or, "Do not marry!"  Or better yet, since I wish upon them, "Marry thus-and-so!"  Then would all my meditation be set to naught, and I could slacken my guard and live as I used, that is, as to all a friend and companion, expecting little and giving much; I have been so twisted and wrenched within this past year of being the pursued and reluctant bridegroom, I desire only to be let alone so I may rest and work as I desire to.  Perhaps I shall go to see Aldamir – he is not so wise as Cirien, but he listens so attentively, and his very presence is a comfort – yes, my dear Little One, perhaps I shall ride out to see Aldamir and lay my case before him.  Though he may not be able to tell me what to do he at least will be a kindly and sympathetic ear.  And then he shall make me to hold his little child, at whose birth I was present (though much against my own wishes), and his wife Lalanath shall infuse an herbal tea for me to drink, and give me her cook's special digestive biscuits, because they are convinced I do not care for myself as I ought.  Well, perchance they do not err in this – though as an Elf I cannot suffer illness, I feel within myself a tight and clenching apprehension, which I am sure is a direct result of my misgivings swirling about my lands – the new vineyards and groves, the trade agreements and various disputes – and, of course, the matrimonial question.

How pleasant it would be, my Bandobras, were you here with Gimli and me (for he is here as well, having seen to the wells in western Osgiliath on Faramir's behalf), and if we could but sit upon the lower lawn together, with naught to discuss save our dinner; I should even allow you and Gimli to smoke, my dear Little One, though I reserve the right to sit upwind of you.  He sits here beside me now, drowsing in his low cushioned chair, his pipe cold in his hand and a half-empty jug of ale at his elbow.  He is even snoring, my dear Little One – remember how we always used to make gentle fun of his snoring?

It seems I always write to you in the evening, and such an evening it is, Bandobras!  The sky fades upward from orange to green-gold to pale blue to velvety black, and the stars twinkle wanly at me, silvery and clear:  Nierninwa, Alkarinque and Elemmiire; Menelmakar, Soronuumë, and Telumendil; they sparkle and shine to rival the lights of my city, and the lamps in the talans about me answer their call; I can just descry the glow of Osgiliath to the west, which cossets my friends Faramir and Éowyn and their dear children, and beyond it like a gleaming spike piercing the rich darkness I see the White Tower, where dwells my friend Aragorn, and his bride Undómiel.  There are no clouds, my Bandobras, to mar the canvas upon which Elbereth paints her picture; her framework is the earth itself, black spires of trees brushing the edges of the sky, rich with birdsong and fragrant with bloom and herb; I hear and smell the cold rushing waters, and see the glint of beastly eye within the brakes below.  And all about me are my friends and kin, those who love me, though we are caught all together in the hurried cycle of the seasons; I know them though, and know well their affection for me, and I am comforted despite my fears.  For are not my fears the sign of arrogance, that I am as important as the sky, and the stars therein?  Long shall I have departed the circle of this world before they have any thought of fading, and such trifling considerations as matrimony and trade delegations wilt and wither beneath their cool regard.

Well, my dear Bandobras, I shall quit you with that thought, that your Master is a fool, and an inattentive one at that; so wrapped up have I been in my own concerns I had forgotten the stars and their promise of permanence. You were right, my dear Little One; I do indeed have need to stop and rest betimes, lest my cares overwhelm me.

Give my greetings to your esteemed mother, and beg her to come with you to Ithilien; does she not wish to see me joust as well?  And I beg of you, please relieve my worries concerning the bull; how did his leg heal, and is he showing renewed interest in your heifers?  If not I might tell Hirilcúllas I am needed in husbandry elsewhere, and she must needs rearrange my schedule to accommodate it.

How I miss you, my Bandobras, and desire to see you once again!  Write to me quickly I beg of you, that I might be refreshed once more.

Your Master,

Legolas

P.S.:  Has your Uncle finally decided to end our misery, and marry his precious Diamond?

L.

Círdan of Lindon, Lord of the Grey Havens, Shipwright and Captain of Mithlond

To His Royal Majesty Elessar, the Elfstone, Aragorn of the Dúnedain, King of Gondor and Arnor,

Greetings.

Gladly do I see you upon your throne at last, beloved Estel, who for long years labored in the wilderness against the forces of Evil, to finally overcome and conquer, retaking your kingdom and ruling with all power and might.  Tales of your deeds of prowess do reach us even unto our stronghold in Mithlond, and I am filled with joy to see the progeny of Isildur renew the line of Númenor of old.  This current Age promises to be filled with the great deeds of Men, as they strengthen and expand their kingdoms and provinces; though this heralds the end of the Age of Elves I weep not, nor have I regrets; I trust you and your seed to so carry Middle Earth upon your strong shoulders to a great and glorious realm.

I write to you, beloved Estel, to inform you of the trade delegation passing into your lands, unto one of your vassal's fiefdoms, Ithilien, the section now called Dol Galenehtar, demesne of Legolas Thranduilion of Taur e-Ndaedelos, who labors now to raise unto himself an Elven people to dwell within the borders of the lands of Men.  We have received letters of his Highness, and of Cirien of Langstrand, purporting to deal commerce with us, in our traffic betwixt Mithlond and Belfalas, thus securing treaties beneficial, or so it would appear, to all involved, save the minor custom-houses of Lond Daer, who already pester my seneschals with alternate agreements, late thought-upon and poorly constructed.  I am inclined, O Your Majesty, to disregard these tardy missives, in favor of your two friends both mortal and immortal, though my emissaries must needs be the primary judges of this determination.  As Langstrand and Dol Galenehtar both are lands paying tithe into your Royal Treasury you gain also by this transaction, and I am sure we shall find mutual profit in its conclusion.

Also I send unto you the late-rising star of my house, my charge Laustairë, a maid given me in guardianship from infancy, and her various retainers, in chief an Elf of my household, Nardanë by name, possessed of great insight and keen understanding, and much beloved by her companions, who is Laustairë's primary nurse and tutor.  Laustairë has achieved her majority, and is of an age and inclination to marry, and as I understand it there are many unwed Elves in Dol Galenehtar who may be suitable, in principal the Lord of Dol Galenehtar himself, a hale warrior and respected member of the Sindar Royalty, and worthy of my charge.  Indeed well I remember Legolas Thranduilion from Lord Elrond's council; though his news was ill I had the chance to speak with him on several occasions, and found him acceptable, wise in his way, blithe and light-hearted, and a fierce and doughty pugilist.  I have had letters from his noble father, King Thranduil of Taur e-Ndaedelos, since the destruction of Dol Guldur called Eryn Lasgalen, and of his mother, kin of mine, Edlothiel Daughter of Ailosacathil of Cardolan, who is anxious to see a lady upon the throne of her son's fiefdom, and eager for their subsequent offspring, to so perpetuate the demesne in its mortal surrounds and afford the Silvan folk there the permanence they desire.  Should it be in your power, O King of Gondor and Arnor, I beg of you to guide this meeting, that all should go well, and the participants presented in best possible light to each other; should they foregather with equanimity perchance this shall be a marriage not only of two souls, but of North and South, not but merely joining the House of Círdan with the House of Oropher, bringing to an end that ancient enmity, but also a marriage of Noldor and Sindar, heralding a glorious and triumphal end to the Age of the Elves upon Middle Earth, ere we depart these shores for the brighter sands of Valinor.

Instruct then, I beg of you, Estel, Faramir son of Denethor, the Lord of Ithilien, that he might control the machinations between these two, and satisfy my longing for union between these two sundered houses; for some time now my people have been spinning tales of this Prince of Greenwood, who seeks folk of the Eldar regardless of race to dwell in comfort and safety behind his walls, bringing peace and succor to the mortals who dwell without.  Such a one would be a boon and a gift to all the Wandering Exiles of Arnor, and of Lothlórien in Galadriel's absence, should his promises of peace and plenty be proved true, as all reports have testified.

For the benefit of both mortal and immortal, for the Edain and the Eldar alike, and in hope of the fiscal gain promised by this,

Círdan of Mithlond

Nardanë Daughter of Parímoëar, of Lindon

To Kalamiril Daughter of Menelúin of Mithlond, my Beloved Friend,

Greetings.

What wonders in Arda, dearest Kalamiril, have been displayed before us this journey!  Should our ultimate goal be brought to naught still shall I praise Ulmo for his bounty, for such have been the riches of his endowments we shall be all the more blessed by this experience.

I am sure, dear Kalamiril, you weary of my accolades upon this point, but surely I may not desist, for such is my delight in new knowledge I scarce may withhold admiration on this but revel once more in such enchantment as I find in this voyage – though, may I add, our charge Laustairë is but little inclined to so believe, and pines instead for her homeland, as all her age are wont to do, though when they are at harbor they instead complain that there are no new vistas for them to explore.  How difficult is this time of development, Kalamiril!  Better would it have been to have waited a century or more ere beginning such a quest, for indeed I do not see that our dear young one is quite up to the challenge.  She does not like the type of fish we are constrained to eat – she does not like the taste of the water, it is not as fine as we had in Mithlond – she misses her friends – she misses her room, the cabin aboard is too cramped – she mopes and languishes and displays her charms for the seamen to admire, draping herself across the side in an excess of dreaminess and misery designed to draw the eye of every comely male on board.  Do I seem peevish to you, Kalamiril?  It is weariness only – I shall be glad indeed when we arrive in Ithilien, and I might hand our charge over to the ladies of Prince Legolas' court for a time, and rest in quiet, away from the raptures and sorrows of her epoch.  How I wish you were here!  You are more patient than I, Kalamiril, and would speak gently to her as a mother would, whereas I am curt with her and drive her all the further from rational deportment.

When last I wrote to you, O my friend, we had stopped for water and sundry other supplies at Drúwaith Iaur, before our passage about the peninsula at Ras Morthil, called here Andrast, to bolster our ship ere we traveled to Anfalas, and to harbor at Dol Amroth.  Well we arrived at Dol Amroth (indeed we did weigh anchor there two nights ago), and I may tell you, dear Kalamiril, it wants not in truth from its accolades, and the Prince himself, Imrahil, a Man of great lineage, is all one would hope for in a Lord of Men, being doughty and wise and gracious and kind, and his people reflect this, in themselves showing hospitality and generosity to even those of so far-off a land as Lindon, and their knowledge of our heritage and doings behooves them quite.  And in Langstrand, the land between the southern Ered Nimrais and the Bay of Belfalas, did we find a people hardy and merry, giving to us of their harvest, the fruit of the vine and the husk of the stalk, so that we are nourished and satisfied and our journey halts not in vain, though the blight which nearly caused these folk to perish is but a year past.

Here we have met one of the chief architects of the Treaty, namely Cirien of Langstrand, called the Yellow Knight (his sigil is a warbler upon a blue background) and counted a very wise Man; he is tall and thin, but very strong I deem, for it is said his prowess in battle is fearsome, yet one would think not were one only to look upon his countenance, which is gentle and a little sad.  He lives in a great castle in Edhellond, his seat of power in Langstrand, and his retainers did say unto me he has left his wife, a lady of noble birth but afflicted with some debilitating sickness, in the care of his seneschal and two esquires for the duration of his journey and the Treaty deliberations.  So perhaps that is why his face seems to me to be sad, for had he children I am sure he would have consigned her to their care, yet it seems to me the illness has caused her to be barren, or for some other reason unknown to me they have been unable to produce heirs; that indeed would cause so great and rich a man to feel grief.

Yet I like him well, he is sober and studious and though not so easy to speak to (Laustairë finds him "cold," she said, but listens eagerly to his tales, for she recognizes in him a shrewd and judicious person, well worth her attention) he is a fount of useful information, not only of the Treaty that Mithlinálwi goes to debate in Ithilien, but also of the surrounding lands, its flora and fauna, and the various knights, lords, vassals and minor kings that live therein.  Laustairë and I, of course, are eager to hear him speak of Legolas Thranduilion, as Lord Círdan did inform me there are grave political ramifications corollary to this potential union (both the Treaty and the marriage), and Laustairë is naturally quite interested to learn what she can of her impending suitor.  From what Lord Cirien has told us he may be a formidable opponent indeed, for it seems to me he hides a cunning and ambitious temperament behind a blithe and artless façade.  He is generous, Lord Cirien said, and eager to right wrongs, to protect the innocent and succor the weak, yet he displays an unswerving determination to increase his demesne, drawing in the strength of Elves from all lands and enlarging his production of foodstuffs (as you know primarily olive oil and wine, though dried herbs are becoming noteworthy as well) and the construction of many fine buildings, including his tower, which Lord Cirien said is a marvel of manufacture, blending Dwarvish skill and Elven beauty, and pierces through the forest canopy of Dol Galenehtar like "a lance tipped with a  golden coronel," the meaning of which I had need to ask of him; it is apparently a term used in jousting, a popular sport for the nobility in Gondor, and the occupation wherein Lord Cirien made acquaintance with Prince Legolas.  Anyway Laustairë's present interest lies more with Prince Legolas' form itself, and not with his avarice or tenacity, which concerns me some; she dwells upon the descriptions she has from Lord Cirien and his friend who has only recently joined us, Lord Araval, a fat jolly man with a loud laugh and a whimsical way of speech whom I like very much.  Lord Araval did tell us, only last night after a magnificent dinner upon the mouth of the river Serni where we have encamped, that maids pine and sigh as Prince Legolas passes, watching as he quits a room or rides through a town, and Araval did describe him thus:  Tall, with fair hair and grey eyes, slender and strong as whipcord, with a face fine of feature and pale of skin.  For myself this depiction interests me not, for it seems not to me the sort of form that would attract, but Laustairë with all the enthusiasm of youth has embraced this portrait wholeheartedly, and has prepared herself, so she did tell me this eve, to be smitten utterly – and yes, dear Kalamiril, I did laugh!  And yes also, she did become petulant and brooding, saying I disdained her tastes, and I was constrained to apologize once again.

Apparently there shall be one of these "jousts" after the Mereth en'Ehtelé, which Lords Cirien and Araval are anxious to attend; both have entered the list of lords, knights, and sundry other nobles competing and anticipate with great pleasure trying their skill against Prince Legolas and the other contestants.   Laustairë does not seem much interested in the joust itself but in the pageantry involved, and in the feast afterwards, which, Lord Araval has informed us, is rumored to be a festival of unsurpassed proportion, replete with food and drink and music and dancing, to which all neighboring folk are invited (this seems passing strange to me, that the Mereth en'Ehtelé should be so sullied by mortal blood, but evidently this is Prince Legolas' custom, to so blend Eldar and Edain together in harmony; it shall be fascinating to see how he so unifies the two), and opulence of dress and jewel is displayed for all to see and admire; we have heard, O my friend, that the Silvan Elves of Taur e-Ndaedelos were both ecumenical and lavish in their hospitality during such fêtes, and it appears, from Lord Araval's description, that rumor did not deceive us.

What more interests me in Prince Legolas than his appearance are the tales told of his prowess and ferocity in battle; there was treason some time ago, shortly after King Elessar came to rule, in which the prince and Lords Cirien and Araval, and sundry others, became entangled; we have been hearing the tale of it, from both Prince Imrahil and Lord Cirien, who were present at two fronts of the great battle, and Lord Cirien's account is fantastic, but vouched for by Lord Araval, so that I am compelled to believe them both; apparently Prince Legolas while engaged in contest at a tournament did pursue diverse men-at-arms and soldiers of the traitor, a Lord Eradan, and slay many in a blood-wrath of magnificent and nearly unbelievable proportions, bringing at last the miscreant to justice and releasing from captivity an entire fiefdom of women and children laid waste by the depredations of the enemy.  Should this indeed be true (and I have as yet no reason to doubt it) I am all the more concerned that our Laustairë has no interest in his prowess with sword and spear, or in the part he played in the Ring War, or in the proportions of his demesne and the production of his crops – he is indeed a formidable suitor, and I am not confident our charge, charming as she is, has the wherewithal to attract such a mate.  He seems to me to be an Elf more concerned with the workings of a kingdom, the machinations of politics, the building up of empires, than lovemaking and poetic sentiments, two things Laustairë shall insist upon should his eye be turned to her.  In short my friend, I foresee a rocky path before us, and it is a hopeful person indeed who sees not the impediments laid down betwixt these two.  But our Lord has charged me with this, that the union be made to cement the alliance between our peoples; if Laustairë draws him not perchance I might appeal to his political sentiments, which from what I have heard appear to be myriad.

Well, dear Kalamiril, I shall quit you here, for one of the King's messengers is collecting what he calls "post" to be delivered north and west of us – a marvelous system of stops for couriers, I have heard, that expedites communication between far lands.  I shall write to you anon, when we have traveled some ways up the River to Minas Tirith and Osgiliath, where we shall meet Laustairë's "beautiful prince," as she has begun to call him – Ilúvatar prevent me from laughing again, lest she shun me wholly!  Write to me, I beg of you, my friend, for I miss you greatly, and know it shall be fully a year or more ere we meet.

In sorrow we are so sundered, yet in hope we shall be united,

Nardanë

Éowyn of Osgiliath, Lady of Emyn Arnen, Princess of the House of Éomund, White Lady of Rohan, Nazgûl-Bane,

To Éodild of the Eastfold, Lady of the House of Thorodraith, My Beloved Friend and Ally,

Greetings to you, Éodild, and to your brother Éotheod, lord in the Eastfold and collaborator in trade with us here in Ithilien!  Gladly do I send this missive, attended by gifts both rare and useful, with the blessings upon your new baby, Therédeod, scion of the House of Thorodraith and heir of your husband Híldaf's strong right hand.  I hope that the flannels shall prove useful, remembering well the chill of the winters in Mering, where the wind howls down through the valley and cuts through to the bone in its wrath; also Imilmeth my maid sends unto you these small knitted boots of fine wool, worthy even of a prince's little toes, to ward off the cold in his cot.  I hope that I shall soon be able to visit you, O beloved and sorely missed lady's maid, so that I may make the acquaintance of your son myself, and my children also shall foregather with him; alas, however, I too carry within me the fruit of my love for my lord, kicking beneath my heart and driving me to distraction with his (or her) propensity to stretch, so distending my belly I appear at times to be carrying a foal full-grown, and no child of men.

You enquired of me in your last letter, Éodild, how fared my children in their schooling, and whether I trained them in the ways of Rohan or Gondor; I may tell you now, my friend, that Fastred in particular begs rather to be trained in neither but insists that our friend Legolas (whom he has called since he began to speak "Lord Lassah") take charge of his education instead, learning his letters in Elvish, speaking in their tongue, and playing their music upon Legolas' lyre.  Fortunately for the future of Osgiliath I insist as well he receive a more rounded instruction, including Rohan and Gondor both, so that he speaks the three languages well by now, though he has attained but eight summers; we are experiencing difficulty however with his tutor in mathematics, for what he has learned from Legolas varies in function greatly and Iordred is continually complaining to me that my son writes his sums with the Elvish symbols and not the ones he is attempting to force him to use.  It does not bother me overmuch, for so long as he learns to keep his accounts in order it matters not which symbols he uses, in fact as lord of Osgiliath perhaps it would be wiser to keep his accounts obscured from peering eyes!  Hísimë speaks almost entirely in Elvish and Westron, and seldom in our own tongue, which concerns me; well do I remember my grandmother Morwen's difficulties in attempting to speak it, for she came of Lossarnach and was not native to our lands.  But Seimiel and Hirilcúllas assure me her Elvish is perfect in inflection and grammar, so that is some comfort, as she shall be a lady of Ithilien and our Elvish neighbors shall be constantly upon her doorstep.

Faramir has concluded his treaty with Malbeth of Celos and it promises to be profitable indeed for both parties; also in concert with this is Hallas' renewed fortune upon the Erui, which we hope shall enrich his fiefdom and give to him and to his Dirhael additional favor from their neighbors, who still look upon them askance since Eradan's treason.  But they are settling in well, indeed Dirhael seems eager to repopulate Lossarnach on her own; they have been wed but seven years, and already possess five children – though to be frank one birth was doubled – which increases Dirhael's popularity in their demesne, despite her uncle's sly ways, for the women of Lossarnach embrace such outward manifestations of marital felicity, and Hallas and Baldor are blessed also by it.  

It is a pity indeed you missed this year's Mereth en'Ehtelé, Éodild, for it was a celebration of unsurpassed grandeur, so rich in food and wine, music and dancing, merry-making and laughter one had scarce a moment to reflect upon the spring of only last year, when newly-sown crops withered in the soil, and trees bent and died beneath the blight which oppressed us.  Legolas has more than made up for that miserable time, for his storehouses have been replenished by his purchases of afar, of Dale and Carrock and Ninglor, who were not touched by the pestilence, so that their goods are fine indeed (though I wager highly over-priced; they are not above taking advantage of those in need I fear), and he shares abundantly with all who enter his high gate.  You ought to have seen the trestles full of food, Éodild, so laden down they did groan beneath the weight of the sausages and smoked fish, the white loaves and wheels of cheese, the nuts and dried fruits and candies and sweets, the roasted meats and gravies and platters of fancies.  And the subtleties, Éodild!  Why there was one shaped like a mountain, and emerging from a door in the center of the mountain there was a dragon made of red-dyed marzipan, spouting spun-sugar flames; another there was in form like unto a púkel-man, grinning crystallized gardenia-petal teeth at us and holding in his icinged hands an adze carved of hard green candy.  It was such a shame to eat of them, for they were most amusing and very cleverly and skillfully done, but the Elven cooks insisted, indeed beheading the poor púkel-man themselves, and breaking apart the dragon, so that we would eat of them and be satisfied. 

I was not able to attend to the dancing, Éodild, for I am far gone with child (and yes, my friend, I am staying close to home this time; I have no desire to repeat my last adventure in the wilderness of Anórien with Legolas and Hísimë), but that afforded me the opportunity to watch the revel, and see who danced with whom.  And let me tell you, though you will not believe me, that our friend Legolas danced with the same maid three times – my eyes did not deceive me; I saw it myself!  And it is all the more astonishing, for he has told me on many occasions he does not wish to wed, he has no interest in courting, he desires only to be let alone – yet there he was, his face alternately grave and surprised, turning this Laustairë about in his arms.  And hearken well, Éodild, for when we stood upon the dais together, with Faramir and Cirien and Araval, and the delegation of Mithlond was formally presented before him, with Laustairë curtseying beside her lady's maid Nardanë, Legolas bowed, and when he straightened again I chanced to look into his face, which was fixed upon the lady's; the contemplative expression imprinted there was caught by all, and the collective sound of Elven maidens' hearts breaking nearly drowned out the orchestra.  I have never seen him look so, Éodild; it was discomfiting to see him inarticulate, who usually slips wit upon a polished tongue and delivers riposte and repartee as a practiced fencer the cut of the épée.  And as for the maid I know little, only that she has been sent here to cement the alliance between the two Elven houses; she is fair to look upon, much like unto Undómiel, with hair of midnight and eyes that mirror the stars, lips red as berries and cheeks that blushed columbine-pink beneath our friend's startled regard.  She was clad all in blue figured with silver, in a gown of magnificent make, so that she seemed almost to echo the starry heavens, and Legolas was in the robe his mother Queen Edlothiel had sent, so that the two of them, when they stood together, in their splendor so overshadowed the rest of the assembly it quite took our breath. 

Faramir said later that Aragorn had had a letter from Lord Círdan her master instructing him to see to the joining of these two, though he did not say by what method; perchance no interference on their part will be necessary, for certainly they appeared to all in the Great Hall and upon the lawn to be fairly drowning in each others' eyes, to the delight of Faramir and Aldamir, but to the consternation of Cirien and Undómiel, who believe still in marriage for love and not for politics.  That is all very well, I suppose, though I am uneasy; perhaps because I have been married a decade this year I am less sympathetic to such romantic notions as falling in love at first meeting, but as Faramir reminds me, I have ever been prosaic in such matters, and believe rather this concerted effort to so marry off the Prince of Dol Galenehtar is born not of desire for his happiness and well-being (or even the well-being of his demesne) but of affairs of state and their treaty's fulfillment.  But some look upon me and my lord, and our union, and declare it to be a marriage of state only, not realizing the alliance of our separate countries was but an addendum to our love and our desire for each other.  If this issue between Legolas and Laustairë develops into a chronic condition I pray only that they shall find the same compromise Faramir and I did.

Fastred is pulling upon me; his nurse has released him, saying he is too impatient to get to the River, and asking me to deal with his temper.  I suppose I must do my duty as his mother and compel him to obey his nurse, lest he grow restive and she irritable, and this cloud our mealtime with discontent; I should rather we ate together in equanimity as we always do, drawing our little circle about us near the inglenook in safety and comfort.  Write to me, I beg you, Éodild, and tell me all about your baby; tell Híldaf Faramir and Legolas send their greetings, and keep well and warm in the Eastfold.

Éowyn

Legolas Thranduilion, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Called by Gimli Lord of Aglarond "You Idiot Elf," Addle-Pated, Whose Wits are Wool-Gathering, Ithilien,

To Bandobras Took, Beloved Esquire of the Green Knight, Traitor-Bane, Comforter of the Downtrodden, Crickhollow

My Dear Bandobras,

I received in truth your letter some days ago, but both the Mereth en'Ehtelé and the trade delegation of Mithlond arrived in concert and I was unable to reply; that is as well, for events have conspired against me and I am amazed and aghast at what appears to be occurring not simply within my fiefdom, but within my heart, which argues so with my reason I am nearly deafened inside.  O my dear Little One, I am bewildered by my capitulation, and baffled by this sudden turn of events – how did I come to this?  Only a week ago I fought against marriage with all my might, and now I am betrothed to a maid I hardly know.  There is no wonder then I am turned upside-down by this state of affairs; I hardly know myself which way I shall turn, and find my thoughts swinging like a pendulum from delight to horror.

It happened, or so I am told, Little One, in this fashion:  Lord Círdan's delegation, lead by his minister of trade Mithlinálwi, arrived the day of our Mereth en'Ehtelé, and the formal presentation of the party made upon the dais of my Great Hall.  Laustairë had been prepared by both Círdan and her lady's maid Nardanë to accept me unquestioning, and told I should no doubt press my suit immediately, as it would be a union political in nature; yet such were the accolades laid upon her image of me in her mind by Cirien and Araval she was eager; I knowing little of this, and preoccupied with the feasts and other visiting dignitaries, was unprepared for the sight she made approaching the dais.  O my Bandobras, I have never seen such a maid, nay, not even Undómiel, in whose form and features perfection lies!  She is tall, and her eyes shine like silver; her skin is the fairest abalone and her lips red as strawberries; her hair is blacker than the raven's wing and reflects back light as highly polished jet; when she moves her carriage is more graceful than any other I have seen, for she seems to dance even when walking, and the light within her eyes is jubilant and ingenuous.  She seems to me pure, untouched and unsullied, as though no hands but mine have been laid upon her, and she trembled so when first I held her by the hand I could feel the eagerness quivering through her very fingertips.  She gazes upon me with eyes clear and enchanted; her adoration is charming, and her voice hesitant and demure, and filled with expectant love.  All this overwhelmed me quite; I was ill-equipped to carry the sudden sinking of my stomach into my feet (Gimli tells me I turned "white about the gills;" I doubt that not) and unable to do much more than murmur her name back to her.  I did not realize this at the time, but ever were Galás and Kaimelas watching my face, and Nardanë her maid watching her own charge's; seeing the state of affairs, and whilst I attempted to know Laustairë better during the dance (the only manner in which one may speak to a maid in privacy is while dancing, so I was constrained to ask three times; unusual for me, I know, but I was guided by some mad compulsion) Nardanë, my seneschal, and my valet – curses upon them all three! – fixed not only our immediate betrothal, but a date set for the formal ceremony, and the wording of the official announcement!  Couriers have run to and fro between Gondor, Eryn Lasgalen and Mithlond at frenetic pace to solidify this agreement before I might come to my senses, and I have heard from Mithlinálwi that already Círdan and my Lord Father do negotiate a betrothal contract.  I feel as though I have been turned about in circles and set loose upon rocky ground, which spins and wobbles beneath my feet so that I can scarcely keep my eyes fixed upon one thing at a time.

So that is how this has happened – I am pressed into something I perchance might have pursued of my own accord, so I can scarce argue the point, yet still I feel constrained, and a little resentful of this.  And why did I stare so, and lose control of my tongue, when she was presented to me?  I have seen pretty maids before – indeed they have for all intents been thrown at my head these past two years – and I have never succumbed; there is perchance something in my betrothed that tips the balance, or, as Gimli avers, someone slipped a love-philter into my wine when I was not looking.  Well, perhaps that is the answer – I certainly feel, these past few weeks, that I have eaten something that fell foul of me, for my belly is so tied in knots I can hardly eat.  I managed to ask Laustairë if this state of affairs was to her liking, for I would be senseless indeed to allow this if she were unwilling; however her blush and stammer unmanned me, and she so assured me of her eagerness to be my bride that my pride swelled to incredible proportions.  Bandobras, what shall I do?  Shall I continue on in this (as my heart begs of me), and bid farewell to the life I have known, becoming bound to this woman for eternity?  Or shall I refuse (as my reason urges), and disappoint so many – my royal parents, Galás, Círdan, Faramir, Laustairë herself – and return to my old ways?  And should I do so, what of the Treaty?  For we have yet to sign it, Little One, though the debates go well – indeed I did feel from diverse things Mithlinálwi has said, that the wedding was primary, and the Treaty secondary to his order of tasks – should I renege, what of Cirien's interests in trade with Mithlond, much less my own? Would my objection at this point bring harm to its conclusion?  Would Mithlinálwi feel the offense and return unsatisfied to Círdan, destroying any hope of alliance?  I could object at this stage, you know, my dear Little One – for it was not I who negotiated the betrothal agreement but Galás, so I could have him withdraw his offer on my behalf.  If he would but listen, that is – when I complained to him and to Kaimelas, after I heard what they had done, Galás said in surprise:  "Why surely, my lord, we were not mistaken; you fell for the lady so hard I am surprised you did not bounce."  And Kaimelas laughed; I felt my face grow hot, and I remonstrated them, but Galás soothed me in that maddeningly impertinent way he has, causing me to feel alternately ashamed of my response and embarrassed of its cause; Kaimelas asked, "You do not want to marry her then?"  And in truth I could not simply say "No!" for I do not know what I want to do.  When I hesitated they both smiled and Galás said:  "Well, my lord, since you cannot make up your mind we shall make it for you!"  So as you can see I do not even know how to argue with them, for how may I debate a point upon which I am not fully certain?

How I wish you were here, my Bandobras!  Simply to have your presence by my side would pacify and comfort me, and you would alleviate my irritation and indecision; Gimli can do nothing, as he was constrained to return to Aglarond to mediate a dispute there, and Cirien fears to protest in deference to his own financial wellbeing.  Also you would look upon her with more critical eye, seeing perhaps beyond her mere physical form which has so confounded me, and you should be able to tell me whether I err or no.  For my reason does inform me this is far too quick a capitulation upon my part, and warns me against such hasty and unthinking ardor; yet deep within me, when I contemplate her aspect and think upon the many years of delight that might be mine, I am blissful and so full of rapture I can scarcely catch my breath.  I have never felt this way before, O my Little One; I do not know how I may appease this duality; it is very new to me.

Well I would write more of this but I find that far from soothing my mind in opening it to you I am all the more harrowed up; I shall write of some other subject and so distract myself from my unhappy ruminations.

You did tell me in your last letter, my Bandobras, of your work upon Long Bank, and the good things you accomplish there; how I wish I could work by your side, O my Little One, so that the task would be soon completed!  I am gratified to hear that repairs have begun on the smial across the river; it will be comforting for the Hobbits who live therein to know that their neighbors' fate shall not befall them too.  And the construction of a smooth lawn upon which the children shall play when the river is down, and the dyke to contain the water when it rises, is wise; commend Master Samwise for me, for it is a foresighted idea, though his detractors say he closes the stable door after the pony has escaped.  Also, dear Bandobras, when you speak of him you mention his "horde" of children – how many has he now?

And also upon the subject of children, my dear Bandobras, you did give to me in your last missive news of joyous import, that Cousin Meriadoc's Estella will once again produce for him an heir of the house of Brandybuck.  This is a marvelous thing, O my Little One, and I have sent to your cousin and his dear wife a gift that I trust shall bring cheer to their home; it trails the couriers and shall in all likelihood arrive by late Spring.  Please be you upon the watch for it, for it is passing large; also with it is a gift for you and for your dear mother, and one for your uncle, and for the family of Gamgee.  Should its size exceed the limits of your postal carrier's abilities to bring into Crickhollow I have left instructions it shall be in the care of that most excellent innkeeper in Bree, so that when it arrives you may go to fetch it. 

And now, though I would fain broach the subject of matrimony once more, I must needs ask how fares your uncle with his wooing of the Diamond of Long Cleeve; has he yet overcome her feelings of aversion to him, brought about (as you told me) by his unseemly haste?  For it did appear to me, from what you have written, Little One, that he turned so quickly from his anger to propitiating gifts; it is no wonder she views him askance, and thinks he perchance toys with her.  For a maid of lesser acumen the presents would serve to attract and not repel, but Diamond does seem to me to possess greater than average wisdom in these matters, and recognizes in your Uncle his reckless ways and careless affections do but mask a deeper and more profound spirit; she will settle for nothing less than his heart in its entirety, as well she should, for that is her just due.  Should he ask tell him flowers and sweets are all very well but what a maid ought truly to desire is honesty and sincerity of disposition; I cannot think any maid of character worthy of him would accept trifles instead.

Well, Little One, I am obliged to end; the next post is leaving and I desire to have this missive in your possession ere you hear of my betrothal through another venue and think I disdained your opinion!  Write to me immediately, I beg of you, my Bandobras, for I greatly long for your words; greater still is my need of your company, and should Diamond prove obdurate I beg your dear mother to allow you to come to me early, for I truly do not wish to wait any longer, I so miss my esquire.  Galás, the rake, sends his greetings, as does Kaimelas, and Seimiel and Hirilcúllas beg to be remembered to you, as do Meivel and sundry others.  Kaimelas has just told me to hurry, for I am still in my hunting-kit, and there is a feast tonight – another one, for Minardil, in Osgiliath, to which my entire household, my guests included, have been invited – and he has held my bath for me so long, he tells me, the water is tepid, and should I complain he shall only tell me the fault lies with his recalcitrant lord.  I wonder what glorious robe he shall garb me in this eve?  He has outdone himself since Laustairë's arrival; I am sure she thinks me vain as a peacock!

How I miss you, my dear Little One!

Your Master,

Legolas

Nardanë Daughter of Parímoëar, of Lindon

To Kalamiril Daughter of Menelúin of Mithlond, my Beloved Friend,

Greetings.

Well my friend, I am certain you have already heard of this (indeed the couriers with indecent haste carried the news upon its conception, and marvelous though this system is that King Elessar has designed it is not fast enough to catch up with an Elf in a terrible hurry), so I may bestow upon myself congratulations at the successful conclusion of a job well done – though, I must admit, the chore shall not be fully completed ere the wedding has occurred, and these two are safely joined.  Unquestionably it seems to me to be a certainty, for when I watch the Prince and our little lady together I cannot help but smile; she is so dumbfounded by his presence, and he so confounded by her beauty, that they hardly speak, but gaze upon each other in rapturous silence; that may be perhaps because Laustairë is so tongue-tied in his company that conversation with her is futile and he merely settles himself to enjoying her features instead.

I know that you shall ask of him, for you are as concerned about our Laustairë's future happiness and well-being as I am and love her even more deeply than do I.  Let me set your mind to rest, dear Kalamiril, and tell you he is perfectly charming; he is frank and open, sincere and loyal, and diligent in his duties; he also displays a canny aptitude in mortal politics, for the Men in the surrounding areas love and trust him both, at times moreso than their own neighbors; the adjacent knights in the contiguous fiefdoms do vie for his favor, for he has the ears of both the King and of the Lord of Osgiliath, Faramir, and he has succeeded in building his demesne to a sound state in merely ten years; he is persuasive and potent in the council-chambers, so Mithlinálwi and diverse others have said, protecting his assets and the assets of his friend Lord Cirien with fervent zeal, yet doing so with such artless humor and good-natured friendliness one hardly feels any ground has been given him.  I have also had occasion to speak to the head of his militia, Meivel, who came to him from Taur e-Ndaedelos, and has fought by his side for untold years; he has given to me many accounts of his lord's bravery and selflessness, his loyalty and valor, that my head fairly swims with it; to look upon him one would not guess that of him, for unlike Laustairë I cannot go into such raptures when I gaze upon his form; he seems to me much like any other Elf in stature and grace, though I admit there is in his face a certain fineness and strength of character others might lack.  There is a wistfulness there too I have seen betimes, that his secretary Hirilcúllas tells me is the Sea-Longing; that he suppresses it so close to the mouth of the Anduin bespeaks to my mind a surmounting stubbornness that causes me some anxiety on Laustairë's behalf.  But he is quite comely enough for our charge; indeed she enthuses for hours unending upon his aspect and features, and I in weariness want to stop up my ears so that I no longer have to hear her ecstasies concerning his hair "like a waterfall of liquid gold," or his eyes "grey as mirrored glass," or his voice "dulcet as a nightingale's" – do you not see, dear friend, what it is I must endure?  Yet we know our Laustairë, we two; she shall cool off eventually, and his more weighty characteristics take the place in her mind of his physical charms.  This one, at least, has sufficient quality of temperament to weather it!

You would have been so pleased, dear Kalamiril, had you seen the way in which Laustairë – unknowing, but effectively – so completely vanquished him when they met.  I admit to some qualms felt when we approached his dais, for he seemed aloof, and the lady beside him (Lady Éowyn of Emyn Arnen, a doughty barbarian woman of Rohan) frowned at us; I bethought perchance our presence was unwelcome and resented, and I should have my hands tied ere I began my campaign; but then he looked upon her, and his visage softened, as do all who see her darling face; the crier did speak our names, and we stepped forward, and curtseyed as he solemnly bowed.  Now Kalamiril, I did clothe her as we had discussed, in the blue and silver gown, and it became her well; I dressed her hair (though not so elaborately as she liked) and set over it the silver cap, but we did not have her to wear the blue cloak, for it is warmer here in spring than in Mithlond; besides I liked the way she looked, tall and slim in her lovely vestments, and the cloak would perhaps have covered too much.  But I boast not when I aver she was the loveliest woman in the entire assembly, and when Prince Legolas arose he appeared to discover this too, for he seemed startled; and Laustairë, when she met his gaze, blushed deeply and lowered her face in confusion, then – you remember how she has done this since infancy, and so set discipline to naught in the nursery – looked shyly up at him through her lashes, her lips curving into a hesitant smile.  O how thunderstruck he was, my friend!  How I wish you could have been here to see it, Kalamiril, so utterly smitten was he with our little Laustairë – this hale warrior and canny statesman, so set upon his heels he could scarcely speak!  At that moment I met the eye of his seneschal, Galás, and we exchanged secret smiles, and between us two and Prince Legolas' valet Kaimelas we arranged the betrothal immediately, ere one or the other could change their mind.  Laustairë is euphoric over the prospect, for she indeed had fallen in love with him long before they met; as for the Prince I am not certain; he seems uneasy betimes, but so obvious to me is his high regard for her I see no difficulties there.  Now the documents are being passed betwixt Círdan and Thranduil, and I have no doubt the betrothal shall be announced as Galás and I have scheduled it, so prepare yourself, my Kalamiril, to sail up the Anduin to Osgiliath next spring, to so witness the wedding of our beloved Laustairë, and the fulfillment of our lord's wishes.

Now I must go, for there is yet another banquet tonight, for a man of Minas Tirith who has done some important task for the King – something to do with the flotilla I believe – and there shall be dancing and singing, and Laustairë is in a fever of discontent for the seamstress did not finish the plum-colored gown, and she wished to wear it tonight for her "beautiful prince," though I like it not; she has requested far too many ribbons and embroidered roses on it, and I think it would be more befitting a child than a woman full-grown.  But such are the garments she loves, as you know, dear Kalamiril, so I shall sew on the ribbons myself, forswearing my own poor dress, for in truth it is the Prince's betrothed the folk shall look upon, and not the lady's maid in her green sheath.  So lovely are Laustairë and Prince Legolas together that no other, man or woman, has any chance of being noticed at all – everyone's eyes are drawn to them, they are like two stars in perpetual orbit about one another, and to see it makes my heart to swell with happiness.

Write to me with all haste, dear friend, for I long to hear from you, and to hear all the gossip and doings of the court at home.

In sorrow we are sundered, yet in hope we shall be reunited,

Nardanë

Bandobras Took, Crickhollow,

To Legolas Thranduilion, Ithilien

Dear Master,

Well, that letter was a shocker and no mistake!  Good gracious me, Master, whatever are you thinking?  More to the point though, what is Galás thinking, to wrap this up so quick, that ought rather to be thought over careful-like?  Honestly, I expected better of him; he might be a little silly and all but I didn't ever think he could be so foolish.  Dear me, after all we mortals have to hurry up and wed and have babies because our time here is limited, but you're an Elf, Master, and you've got loads of time – why rush things so?  It's not as though she'll get any less pretty as the years go on – why, look at your mother now; she's old as dirt and still pretty as a young lass.  Prettier, really, I think, and probably the prettiest Elf in the world barring her Majesty Queen Undómiel (see, I remembered her title this time!) though don't tell Seimiel and Hirilcúllas I said so, they might not like to hear that.  And the young lady sounds a fair treat, Master, but even if you're drawn to her like, I don't see the need to hurry to the altar.  Can't you wait, Master?  Can't you put things off for a time?  Cousin Merry told me this Lord Círdan's a mighty powerful Elf indeed, but your dad's no piker and I bet you anything he'll back you up if you want to delay things till you and this Laustairë get to know one another a little better.  Who knows; you may discover she's not what you want in a wife, and better to discover this now than after you're joined and it's too late.  And if you DO discover she's just exactly what you want, why then, a couple years here or there won't make much difference to your kind; you'll be wed forever, after all.

O Master, I don't like this one bit; you sound so unhappy, Master, even if your young lady's so pretty and you like her; you know you're not ready and she's probably not ready even though she says she is and it's just other people pushing you together, it's not like you were just riding along one day and met her and fell in love with her, or even if you'd known her for a while like Seimiel and fell in love slow-like.  (That does happen, you know, Master; that's what happened with Cousin Merry and Estella – played together as children, they did, and didn't realize they were in love until long after they'd grown up.)  Not that I'm pushing Seimiel on you again, Master; you seemed so put out last time I mentioned her, but you know you and she HAVE known each other a terrible long time and though I'm very young I think it would be much, much better to marry someone you know than just some pretty maid from far away.  On the other hand, the Grey Havens are close to the Shire, or so Master Gamgee tells me, so that if you ever wanted to visit your in-laws you could always stop by and stay with us a spell.  That is if she doesn't mind Hobbits – does she like Hobbits, Master?  O please do tell me she likes Hobbits, I don’t think I could stand it if you married someone who didn't approve of me, that would be terrible!  And what about Gimli, Master?  You said most Elves don't care for Dwarves; she's not one of those types of Elves, is she, Master?  She MUST like Gimli or it won't work at all, as well you know it.  And while I'm on the subject you tell Gimli for me that I don't approve of what he called you, I've writ to him and told him off for I don't think it's right at all to say such a thing whether he likes her or not.  "Idiot Elf" indeed!  Makes me mad just to think on it.

Uncle Pip and Mother and Cousin Merry and Master Gamgee are all set upon their ears by this news, Master; why Uncle Pip was so flabbergasted he just sat there with his mouth open, couldn't believe it, you know.  And to get Uncle Pip to be so surprised he can't say nothing is quite a feat – was almost worth the news we got to see him so took aback.  We none of us like what you've told us, for we think it all happened so terrible quick, and it's not like you to sit back and let them run roughshod over you in this way; you've been so busy and worried and put-upon these past few years and I just think they're taking advantage of you in a weak moment, Master, I really really do, and it's terrible unfair because as much as you tell me she's so pretty I can tell from your letter you're awful upset too, and if you're wise you'll take my advice – though really it's not my advice at all, it's Master Gamgee who said it, I was all for loading you up on a boat and shipping you off to Valinor straight away to get away from her – if you follow Master Gamgee's advice you'll put a halt to all of this for a season and let things slow down a bit till you and Laustairë can get to know one another and decide if you truly, truly want to do this.  I mean, dancing with pretty maids at parties is one thing, but mostly it's all nonsense and moonlight, or so Uncle Pip tells me, and after a few weeks you start wondering why you wasted your time so and you regret those kisses stolen behind the barn.  (I'm not talking from personal experiences here, Master, so don't you worry none; this is Uncle Pip talking, you know – he's fallen for more pretty maids than any other Hobbit in the Eastfarthing, though right now it's certainly Diamond making more the impression, which kind of proves his point, for he never danced with her at all at a party, just fell for her sudden-like in the market at Long Cleeve one day, and now he says all them other maids was just for practice.)  And Mother says she thinks you've just had your head turned by a pretty face, what with all this blather and pother about your getting wed these past few years, for if your mother and father and Galás and Kaimelas hadn't of been pushing it on you, you might never have thought on it when you saw her, only thought to yourself, "Now, there's a mighty fine looking maid," and just passed it off like, for you weren't thinking of courting at all, but since it's been naught but talking of your finding a wife for time out of mind it's no wonder everyone jumped so upon the way you looked at each other, and as to your dancing with her three times, well, if she's easy to look at and a good dancer what of it?  You could say that about almost any other woman in your fiefdom, Master, so it means little really, and I think you ought not to get so carried away.

Now, Master, I don't want you getting mad at me, for I know a fellow gets awful hot under the collar when someone dishes the dirt on a maid what he fancies, and I know I'm just a young Hobbit and not very knowledgeable about Elf marriages and politics and such, but I do love you lots, Master, and I don't want you to be unhappy, and it's unhappy you WILL be if you continue on in this fashion.  Galás and your folks and this Nardanë might think it a right lark to foist the girl off on you so quick but I don't rightly think they're acting in such a way that will ensure your happiness in the long run.  Your letter was awful upsetting, Master, you sound so confused and dejected and couldn't even decide if you were happy or not, so I'm guessing it's "not" and that's not right, you know, Master, for if a fellow's marrying well he'll be a touch nervous but oh so happy, like Uncle Pip is happy – oh yes, by the way your advice worked, he and Diamond are getting married next Summer – but he and Diamond are awfully well suited for each other, and I don't know as you and Laustairë are, and I'll bet you anything you don't know, either.  How could you, Master?  Why, you don't know her at all, and she's from so far away, not even the same kind of Elf as you, what if you don't get on?  I couldn’t stand to think of you married to someone who didn't like or understand you, Master, it would be so awful to know you had made a mistake perhaps, and married too soon.  And what if she don't get on with your other ladies in the court, or with Galás (it'd serve him right, and that's the truth, like to see HIM frog-marched to the altar and married off to someone he don't know), or with your folks, or Lord Faramir and Lady Éowyn, or King Elessar and Queen Undómiel, or Lord Araval or Lord Aldamir or Lord Cirien or Lord Mardil?  You really ought to marry someone who gets on with your friends, you know; that's what Cousin Merry said, for he married a friend's sister and they all know one another in that group and it's quite a lot of fun for them, even Uncle Pip and Diamond like each others' friends and that makes things loads easier, for Mother told me when she married my dad his sister and hers didn't get on at all and it caused no end of ructions at get-togethers and parties for all they did was fight and it made things so uncomfortable for everyone else.  O please Master, don't let that happen; I love you so and I don't want to see you any more unhappy than you already are, which seems to me to be plenty unhappy, for you know in your heart you're making an awful mistake.

I'm sorry, Master, that I'm being so cruel-like, but I'm speaking to you out of love and concern for you and I truly think I'm right, why, even Mother and Uncle Pip and Cousin Merry and Master Gamgee think I'm right, which doesn't happen often I may tell you, for most often I'm wrong and they waste no time telling me, but not this time for even without my being there I can tell this is not what you are meant to do.  O please, please dear Master, do nothing till I can come to you and speak to you face to face; I can hardly bear to be apart from you right now, for it's plain to me you need someone else near you, who'll not be afraid of upsetting things (and you know that's never bothered me, Master) and saying what he thinks (that's also something I'm quite good at).  I'm begging Mother to let me come to you before Uncle Pip gets married, for now they're properly betrothed I'm sure things are settled and there's no need for me to be here any longer – O please, please Master, put this off a while, until I can come to see you!  Getting your gifts was a fair treat but it didn't do nothing to stop up that longing I have to go back to Ithilien and stay by your side, Master, for while I was eating of those olives you sent (everyone's quite impressed with them, I may tell you) it just put me in mind of sitting with you upon the parapet of the White Tower and looking down at the Pelennor, or over at the Ephel Duath, me swinging my feet and looking through my toes at the many levels of the city beneath me, and you leaning back on your hands, singing at the stars while Gimli puffed on his pipe.  O that we could do that tomorrow!  How happy I'd be, Master, if only I could be with you and speak to you, for the letter-writing is well enough in its way but I've got so many arguments and things to say that I'm sure would change your mind in this, and I know you only want a little nudge to set you straight once more.

Well, I've about writ myself out here; you'll be getting letters from all the other folks here too, about saying the same as I have, though you may be certain they'll say it more refined-like, as they've had more practice.

I love you, Master, so please don't be angry with me – I just don't want you to be unhappy, as you are now!

Love,

Your Bandobras

Legolas Thranduilion, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Called by Lady Éowyn of Emyn Arnen "Foolishly Besotted," Which Confirms Lord Gimli's Assessment of his Acumen,

To Bandobras Took, Esquire of the Green Knight, Loyal Companion and Friend Who Delights in Honesty if not Tact

My Dear Bandobras,

I blame you not, my dear Little One, for your words of disapproval; be comforted in the knowledge that you are not my only friend who has expressed apprehension concerning this latest adventure of mine; indeed Cirien and Mardil have had some minor quarrel regarding this, though rest assured it has not affected their friendship in any way.  Even the Lord and Lady of Emyn Arnen, usually united in opinion in all matters, disagree so sharply on the subject of my upcoming nuptials that they have agreed to not speak of it to each other, lest their arguments disturb the children, and the King and Queen of Gondor differ in opinion also, though not so heatedly.  It is odd to me, my Bandobras, that in all instances wherein the couple disagree it is the husband who supports, and the wife who objects; Gimli explained this away with the rationalization that the men want me safely married so that I am no threat to their own wives, and the women disturbed that I am being taken out of the matrimonial loop – I am like unto a favorite book, he said; all wish to loan me out but none to keep me upon their shelves.  I did not realize my connubial future was so widely discussed in Gondor, and now you tell me my marital prospects are the subject of debate in Crickhollow!  Truly I am amazed; it is strange to me that all my friends would be so divided upon this subject.

I have had a letter from my Lady Mother, who is in the heights of ecstasy; she will be here late Summer, she tells me, to meet her future daughter and see that Kaimelas arranges the wedding to her satisfaction.  (Fear not for Kaimelas, my dear Little One; whatever my Lady Mother inflicts upon him he certainly deserves it for his role in this debacle.)  The ceremony shall take place next Spring, so my Laustairë and I have a year to become the better acquainted; I am pleased by this prospect, though she likes it not; she said unto me last night upon the dais in the White Tower she hated to wait and desired for us to begin our lives together as husband and wife forthwith, and could not see the reason for the delay; she is so impulsive!  (It is just this attribute in her, my beloved Bandobras, which puts me in mind of you; you have ever been as impetuous and animated as I find her.) Her maid Nardanë rebuked her for her impatience, then smiling apologized to me, explaining she has ever been so, even from infancy desiring the good immediately and disdaining any delay.  At that point Queen Undómiel leant over, and said to Laustairë and Nardanë that when my own royal parents were betrothed, it was nigh unto twenty years betwixt the announcement and the wedding, for the kingdoms at that stage were in such great turmoil; Laustairë exclaimed in dismay that even one year was far too long a time, and she did not comprehend why we must needs wait.  Then Nardanë laughed, and asked her if she did not want yet the marvelous ceremony she had planned since childhood, replete with splendid gowns and wonderful music and breathtaking pageantry; those things took time to plan and anyway we had to allow sufficient traveling time for the other guests to arrive.  At this Laustairë conceded, and spent the rest of the meal happily discussing with Nardanë and Seimiel how she wanted to be dressed for the ceremony, which ought to have pleased Seimiel, I thought, as she is a woman, but she seemed rather to me to be suffering some inner complaint, which I did not understand; it mattered not however, for at that point I was pulled into the debate surrounding the docks at Minas Tirith, which occupied the rest of my evening, so that I did not have the leisure to speak of our wedding again with my betrothed.  It matters not, however; we have a year to discuss it, and anyway it is the marriage and not the ceremony which is the penultimate concern, in my opinion, so that the longer we spend preparing our hearts and minds for the joining the better it shall be; the clothing we wear and the pageantry displayed are but minor trifles in comparison.

My Lord Father wrote to me as well, full of congratulations regarding the accords Mithlinálwi and I have reached; if Círdan's representative has ceded rather more to me than he had planned it is his own doing, for by so accepting Laustairë's hand I feel I am in need of compensation; if later Círdan attempts to dock her dowry on this point I shall only explain that the greater part of the profits shall go to Langstrand anyway.  But Cirien is pleased, if a trifle unnerved by my capitulation into the untried lands of matrimony, that the pact has been signed, for Langstrand and its surrounds shall be greatly blessed by the increase in revenue, and King Elessar as well has expressed to me satisfaction in the conclusion of this settlement, saying if the trade from Mithlond remains as brisk in the future as it has been in the past he shall repay my Lord Father's loan to him sooner than expected.  Mithlinálwi and his party have departed, leaving behind my Laustairë and her maid Nardanë to become the better acquainted with me and with my lands and people, for Laustairë shall be my Lady and it would behoove her to be on familiar terms with her subjects and neighbors, and to understand her duties.  I have already spoken with Nardanë, who is a wise and practical woman, and she has assured me that by the time Spring has come my betrothed shall be fully cognizant of her obligations and assignments as my wife.  I am looking forward to that at least, for my Lady Mother was quite correct; to have a lady at my side shall release me from many of the more tedious tasks involved in the running of a fiefdom, and it will be most pleasant to have the space of time available to me to enjoy a respite from the frantic whirlwind I call my life.

Apropos, we have planted the new vineyards, and they promise to flourish well; also we have uncovered the olive grove and after extensive pruning and fertilizing it may prove to be more productive than any of us had previously hoped; I am confident that by next summer we shall be swimming in fine oil and good wine, and those in Mithlond and sundry other northern kingdoms (my Lord Father's included) shall be constrained to pay a pretty price for our goods.  For the grapes being grown upon the vines purchased from Dor-en-Ernil are said to grow to the size of a baby's fist, and the olive trees we have discovered are of a differing variety than the ones usually found in this area; Faramir tells me they must be a part of the ancient groves surrounding Old Osgiliath and its surrounds, which produced twice as much oil from the fruit as the small, black olives to which we are accustomed.  So by Autumn, my dear Little One, shall we know our labors have borne fruit (if you will excuse my inadvertent jest) and perchance I shall need to have an additional storage house built.

I have also concluded a trade agreement with Rohan regarding equine stock; Éowyn so passionately praised Hatchet and Piukka to her royal brother that he acquired a yearning for fresh horses from us, and we have traded many noble and worthy beasts between us two, so that the breeding may be improved, most notably in the hocks and frog, which as you know is the weakest part of our horses; the horses of the plains of Rohan excel in this area, however they are narrow-hipped and weak-lunged by comparison, and it is my hope, and Éomer's as well, that we shall so enrich the stock between us that none shall boast a finer horse than the blend of the house of the mearas and the house of Dale.  Already we have several foals, very young but promising great strength and wind, and a fine intelligence, being strong-limbed, wide betwixt the eyes, possessed of courage and affection and speed.  There is one in particular, a young filly, that I have promised to my betrothed, that she has named Goermeril, an odd name I thought, for the filly is gray and not red.  But this is perchance a reflection upon the circumstances under which I presented the foal to my Laustairë, for we stood upon the lawn by the rose-gardens, and in tight bud were the red roses, by which we stood; so perhaps she has made that connection to the young mare in that fashion.  At any rate the gift did please her, which in turn pleased me; I am happy to think of the days we may spend together riding through our demesne, seeing to the health and well-being of our lands.

You may tell Master Gamgee for me, that I had every intention of following his most excellent advice in becoming more properly acquainted with my betrothed prior to the wedding, and tell your good mother and Meriadoc and Peregrin all that I do not go into this blindly nor foolishly, but upon reflection have accepted my fate, for Laustairë I deem shall make an acceptable wife, and we shall have many years ahead of us to allow for the dearth of understanding beneath which we now sit.  These past weeks I have found her to be quite charming, ingenuous, merry, light-hearted and impetuous; her youth constrains her understanding of the world yet but I have hopes in time she shall grow ever more wise and prudent, so that our rule together shall be that of peace and plenty.  She is certainly appreciative of my more physical attributes, which I find both amusing and disconcerting; between her and Kaimelas I am dressed like a child's doll in the most elaborate and heavily-decorated doublets and robes I have ever seen, so that she and I when we sit together in court or assembly reflect rather more lamplight than I am used to, and I think longingly of my old green and brown tunic and hose, in which I am more comfortable.  But it makes them happy, so I agree to it, though she knows not I have removed the greater part of the boning from the new doublet she gave unto me, which pricked so upon my throat I felt as though a hive of bees had nested there.  Why is it, my dear Little One, that the females of the species delight so in bright clothing?  One would think from observing nature, in particular birds, that the males would be all the more interested in flaunting the wealth of their beauty, but it appears not so; betimes I look upon Nardanë's simple robes and wish my betrothed would follow her guidance in these manners. 

At any rate I am not angry with you, my Bandobras, for your words of honesty and concern; I know you are driven by love and disquiet on my behalf and your intentions move me rather to gratitude and approval than to discomfort and dislike.  You have not met my Laustairë, dear Bandobras, so you do not know how lovely she is, and how vivacious and animated she becomes when she speaks, or how her laugh bubbles forth as warm water from a secret spring; you do not know the depths of her gray eyes, or the curve of her red lips, or the blush upon her oval cheek; the midnight fall of her hair or the slim grace of her form.  How I wish you were with me, my Bandobras!  Then you should know, and love her too, as all who know her must love her.

Well I shall quit you here; there is some disturbance upon the borders, my dear Little One, which requires the presence of a mighty lord and hale warrior to dispel; Meivel tells me he has fought this particular skirmish several times to no avail, and avers it requires nobility and not skill, though he immediately apologized for the inference; I assured him I am not insulted, for if skill were all that were needed he certainly would be sufficient, but as this dispute involves several knights of neighboring lands I suppose I must needs flex my lordly powers somewhat to dispel them.  Perhaps I shall wear my armor; I have not used it since the last tournament, and Piukka is growing lazy beneath my weight.

Convey to your Uncle my hearty congratulations, and assure him a wedding-gift shall be forthcoming.

Your Master,

Legolas

Laustairë, Scion of the House of Lord Círdan of Mithlond, Daughter of Tiriámrun, Most Fortunate of Elven Maids, the Betrothed of Prince Legolas of Ithilien,

To Kalamiril Daughter of Menelúin of Mithlond, Beloved Friend, Counselor and Confidant,

Greetings to you, from my new home!  It is so different here from Mithlond, my friend, so warm and clement, though the storms which sweep up the River from the Sea boom and clatter about us so fiercely at times it seems to me as though my very windows shake!  Betimes I stand upon my balcony and watch the lightning as it forks and snakes betwixt the surly heavens and the mountains; it crackles and flashes so wildly, that I feel it thrilling into my very soul with the riotous noise of it.  But it is like unto this land itself, unruly, feral, untamed and wild; the view from my rooms is of the thickly forested valley, striped and speckled with waterfalls and lakes; Nardanë's is better I think, though her balcony is lower, for she looks down upon the olive groves and vineyards.  I love to look at them, in their undulating green rows, and the small forms of my future subjects crawl like tiny ants about them, tending and pruning.

So you have heard the news!  Thank you, my Kalamiril, for your kind felicities; I am I assure you in the very heavens of bliss, and how could I not be, when I am so auspicious to have been given me the hand of a great hero of the War, who is kind and beautiful and beloved?  Any maid would feel as grateful to have the prospect before her, that she is to be joined to such a one as my betrothed, whose very visage rivals the sun, and his hair the glimmering curtains of cloth of gold that flanks his beautiful face, his eyes reflecting back the silvery light of the moon full-blown; yet this is not the sum total of the delights of his aspect, for his voice is like fine silk laid across the skin, giving warmth and comfort, so that when I hear him speak I am insensate to all but the pleasure of attending to the melodic sounds emanating from him, and cannot even answer I am so overcome with the thrill I feel when I bask in his glorious tones!  Indeed he may speak in banal trivialities and I do not even mark it, for whatever he says serves only to enchant and delight me and I am all but ignorant of whatever his speech imparts.  And O the grace of his form, Kalamiril!  He moves to me like the stalking lion, sure-footed and agile, this warrior of the far north; his elegance and refinement of passage more like unto the gliding falcon of the skies than to some creature bereft of flight and I am certain he hides feathery wings behind himself, so lithe and graceful is he; when first he approached me to dance, before we were betrothed, it was as though he floated upon the very mists of Forlindon, and when he took my hand in his own (and what gentle, what beautiful hands they are, Kalamiril!) it seemed to me as though I glided alongside him, caught in the current of his fluid lissomness, a small and weak vessel set adrift yet captured by his overwhelming presence and strength.  It is all I can do, Kalamiril, to keep myself from gazing at him hours unending, for so enchanted am I with the visage of my beloved I am rendered speechless when he is near me!  And all other sounds fade when I think of him, that is why I can scarce answer your questions, my dear friend, that you posed me in your last letter to me, which did address our betrothal and give to me the fulsome gratitude of your favor; I know for I have heard it said by his friends he is a shrewd and canny warrior but in truth I know nothing else, so entranced I am with him and with his voice and his face and his form.  You must needs go unto Nardanë for what you ask; I am numb to all but his face, and Nardanë says she finds his form uninteresting, but takes pleasure in enquiring as to his history and habits, saying she wishes to know what manner of Elf I am marrying.  For myself I am satisfied to just gaze upon him, he is so beautiful!  I care not about aught else.

There are many parties and feasts and banquets to attend, dear Kalamiril, so that I am constrained to go to the dressmakers here, not Elves at all but mortal women from Osgiliath; they are skilled I suppose but they like not what I ask of them, and I must press them to get my way in the embroidery and ribbons and beadwork; Nardanë is no help at all, saying I ought rather to dress according to the fashion of the south, but I am adamant that I shall dress as I please, and she and I have quarreled on this point.  (Have no fear, dear Kalamiril, I shall bend her to my will as always!  She is so stubborn, not as you are with me, and I miss you and wish you instead had accompanied me.)  She also insists I attend the doings of the court here, listening to my lord hear plaints and serve cases, but this seems to me a tedious pastime, and futile as well, for what purpose would I have listening to such things, as mortal peasants discussing grazing rights, or the use of wells?  Besides I have no experience in such things and I do not wish to appear ignorant before my beloved, so I allow him to hold court as he will, and pine instead for him in the gardens (O how lovely they are here, Kalamiril!  I cannot wait for the roses to bloom), or work upon my embroidery (I shall send you my scarf when I have finished with it, it is most marvelous, the best thing I have yet done) or read (my betrothed's library is not very extensive but the texts are interesting, though they involve many tales of war and battle).  It is pleasant for me to sit back and watch his vassals as they scurry to and fro within his marvelous tower, everyone here is so busy, Kalamiril, so that even watching them I am exhausted and need to take to my couch.  Nardanë is becoming unreasonable, saying I ought rather to involve myself in the many trifling things that so involve his female servants, but these niggling concerns are not for me; I shall devote myself instead to the rapturous duty I have imposed upon myself, in the adoration of my lord and the contemplation of his perfections, for there is no higher aim for a maiden but to esteem and revere her beloved, so that he is so assured of her love and good pleasure his heart is as full as her own.

As idyllic as this place ought to be for me then, dear Kalamiril, there are those things that bring unhappiness to my heart, which ought to swell with affection and goodwill instead; Nardanë tells me I am foolish but I think this is not so, for how can one countenance the interruption of my conversations and time spent with my lord?  It is unfair, Kalamiril, that he should be taken so from me, when we are so newly betrothed, by paltry concerns as these, and I am certain this Hirilcúllas, who calls herself his "time-organizer," does deliberately and with malice distract him from his proper duty unto me, so that no sooner have I placed myself at his side some strange crisis occurs, or some strange person arrives to deflect his attentions, and he feels he must attend to it forthwith, so that I am left alone; betimes he in all gentleness and generosity does bid me accompany him, but then I am so filled with secret wrath and humiliation I do not wish to inflict my mood upon him, and so retire to leave him to his duty.  But when I told my plaint to Nardanë, she said only that Hirilcúllas did what she could to ensure the proper function of his demesne, and did not see whence my discomfort came; I am all the more convinced this Hirilcúllas has desired for herself my betrothed, and so in her chagrin and anger takes this out upon him and upon me as well, to restrict our time together; also his seneschal Galás does constantly press him for attention and time, so that his days are quite occupied and filled with meetings and councils and in constant riding about his lands, leaving very little time for us to foregather.  I am sure there is no need for it, for he is no common farmer but a great lord, and to see him dressed in such shabby habiliments as his valet sets out for him of a morn, hacking about on his overgrown black war-horse, quite sets my teeth on the edge and I can scarce contain myself, for he ought rather to be clothed in shining raiment like the greatest kings of days long ago, seated upon his throne on the high dais in his Great Hall with a starry crown upon his head and robes of finest ermine gracing his noble shoulders.  I should sit at his side garbed in the loveliest of gowns, a red one perhaps, my own head crowned with some glorious circlet, and preside over the feasts and banquets and dances and merrymaking until the forests about us echoed with laugher and music.  That is what I believe I must do, dear friend, to bring some light and ease to this land; they are far too busy and over-concerned with this work; I do not see the need of it, for olive trees grow like any other I suppose, and cannot they tell the Men to care for the wine?  It is most unseemly for Elves to labor in this fashion and when I am lady I shall impose a lighter rule and easier yoke upon them, and we shall have naught but feasts and parties and dances all the time.

Also this plaint I have, dearest Kalamiril, that there are so many of the other Races here, passing in and out his High Gate, occupying his time that would be better spent upon his fellow Elves, bringing before him numerous pacts and treaties and gifts and other such things I do not understand.  Especial in my dislike are the many Dwarves that come to him, rough uncouth Dwarves with grasping hands and loud raucous voices, imposing upon my lord their coarse mannerisms and numerous unimportant messages from their lord unto him; I do not understand why he even condescends to meet with them, and when they arrive I retreat immediately unto my chambers to escape them, for their visages and voices are offensive to me, and I dislike the thought he is so caught among them.  Also there are Men, not always nobles like Lord Cirien, but others who inflict their wills upon him, for he is so good-natured; there was one in particular, I minded not his name, who required for some unknown reason that my betrothed be present at the birth of his child; this seemed to me an ill-mannered thing to demand of a lord but he went anyway, saying he could not deny this Man anything; when I am Lady of Dol Galenehtar I shall put a stop to this, for it is iniquitous to petition my betrothed to attend to such a mundane task, that would be better befitting some lowly midwife.  I did not mind the wedding in Tarlang (I wore my yellow gown, with the red roses embroidered upon it, and my golden cap), though I thought the young groom impertinent and ill-mannered; my betrothed is so good-natured however he took it all in stride, though I am sure he suffered greatly through the impudence of the wedding party.  My wedding shall not be like that, I assure you, my Kalamiril, for I shall not tolerate such behavior; it is unfitting someone of his station, and when I said this to Seimiel, one of the maids here, she responded sharply, saying this Hador was worthy of accolade and ought not be held in contempt; I told her I did not hold him in contempt, but only wanted him to show my betrothed the respect and honor due him; Seimiel responded that if Lord Legolas had felt the impertinence he was far too restrained and well-bred to show it, and I ought to follow his example.  So I have decided to heed this advice, and show an impervious eye to these Men who so serve him these insolences, as do all great ladies, and fix upon them a stern and unforgiving gaze that shall show them I brook no opposition upon this point, and my lord shall benefit from this, for I am sure they will know the Lady of Dol Galenehtar is no one to be contended with.

Well Nardanë has just come in with my gown, for she has as I requested of her added the other ribbons, and assures me no other lady in the assembly shall be dressed as ornately as I shall be; she can be so flattering  when it pleases her!  I have instructed my beloved's valet to set out the doublet I had made for him, which is a marvel of elegance and refinement, and he shall so glisten in the lamplight he shall rival the stars themselves, as he sits upon his high seat.  O I cannot wait to see him, my friend!  How my heart shall trill within me as the voice of the nightingale, when I gaze upon him in rapturous adoration, rising from his throne to give the toast, his bejeweled goblet in one white hand, his hair gleaming like a river of gold, all the eyes of the assembly turned upon him!  I want only to keep him to myself and share him not with all these folk; however can we speak together, when he is pulled away from me always?  O please write to me quickly, dearest Kalamiril, that you may soothe me and tell me his love for me shall be undimmed by these others who clamor for his attention; I can hardly bear it, I long so for his favor!

I must quit you here, for there still remains the matter of my hair; I have planned the most delicious plaits and twists, but Nardanë is not convinced; it shall take all the longer to talk her into doing what I desire, than to fix my hair as I wish.  Write to me quickly, I beg of you, and let me know all the doings of the court I have left behind, which I miss greatly; it was so quiet there, and one could think – here everyone is so busy, that I am obliged to hide away, in the gardens or my chambers, to escape the clamor; I am unused to such a life, and only hope I may make for myself and my lord a quiet and peaceful place, where he may rest comfortably, far from the maddening racket of the courts, comfortable and serene and undisturbed.  I see it in his face – how weary he is, my poor beloved; how tired and overburdened with cares; how dearly would I love to hide him far from here, where no one would disturb us, and we could live quietly we two, in tranquility and silence!  Ah, then would I see him the more clearly, my beautiful Prince, and none would disturb us, and we should be so perfectly happy.

Now Nardanë is growing restive and I truly must go.  How I miss you, and how I miss Mithlond!  I hope that I shall soon grow accustomed to this place.

Yours,

Laustairë

Gimli son of Glóin, Elf-Friend, Galadriel's Servant, Lord of Aglarond, Rohan,

To Bandobras Took son of Reginard, Crickhollow, Buckland, the Shire

Dear Bandy,

Well, this is an appalling thing, is it not?  Never did I think your Master to be such a fool as this – I know, Bandy, that you object to that appellation, but what other word could I use?  What would you call a man who allows a pretty face to cause him to relent against all his better instincts?  Though it is not only this Laustairë's face and form which has him so entangled; all this talk of marriage and alliance has addled his brains, so that he cedes ground but knows it not, nor recognizes the reasons behind it. 

You asked if he were happy; well, no, he is not, Bandy; I know he is not, for though he does all he can to submit to the will of his parents, to Círdan, to this Nardanë who has wrapped the whole court round her little finger (Galás especially, I must tell you, and were her depredations not so focused upon your Master I should find it quite amusing) he is restless and dispirited still, throwing himself into the work of running his demesne (and there is plenty of that, moreso than even I must endure); when Cirien and I argued with him, that to marry simply to please his mother would aid him not, he disagreed, saying a wife would be able to assist him in the running of his fiefdom; that is perhaps true, but I think he would be better served to take on another seneschal, for Galás is also overworked; I do not see the purpose in saddling himself with a bride. 

And such a bride!  I know it were foolish in the extreme to let Legolas know my true thoughts upon the matter of his betrothed (I say not "beloved," for I deem he loves her not), for to denigrate a man's choice of bride is to end your friendship with him, but this Laustairë will be naught but a burden to him, for never have I met any maid, mortal or immortal, so ignorant of the workings of a kingdom!  Even you at your worst, Bandy, when you were but a child and toddling round King Thranduil's halls, recognized when work needed to be done, and knew which servant or laborer was doing what; you knew when hands were needed to lighten the load, and you were ever eager (if somewhat misguided, you may not argue with me on that point) to see to it that none were tired out in their labors, volunteering your skills and aid so that the burden were made the lighter.  But when my diplomats Ónin and Fríma returned last week they said to me the betrothed of the Elven prince of Ithilien is interested in naught but clothing and hair styles and ornaments; she is devoted to Legolas, said they, in her own fashion, but Fríma did say to me, when she foregathered with several of the ladies of Legolas' court, that some of the maids, Seimiel in particular, were put off by Laustairë's  behavior, for she seems to think she has naught to do but to lie about and gaze adoringly at your Master, and all attempts made by Nardanë to interest her in the doings of the fiefdom come to naught; she is not lazy, Fríma said, but ignorant and thoughtless, as is a small child; Seimiel did say unto Fríma and Ónin both that if she were constrained to listen yet one time more of Laustairë's wedding gown she would cut out the girl's tongue.  Yet when Ónin made gentle queries to your Master on this subject he seemed oblivious that anything was amiss; I do not think he has yet noticed, Bandy, what a burden she has become upon his court, as he imagines her to be learning her duties ere she assumes them; how else would he know, if his people tell him not?  Indeed they fear to broach the subject, Bandy, for Legolas is harried enough by all of this, and anyway they are all far too busy; it is easier to let things go for now, and wait until his mother arrives – Queen Edlothiel will know in a heartbeat that this maid is not fit for her son! – yet we have been told that she has had need to delay her journey for a season, as there is some question concerning border-refugees in Eryn Lasgalen, which she must attend to, as King Thranduil is occupied upon the northern border with trolls.  And I have written to Lord Faramir and King Elessar both, begging them to study Legolas' betrothed more closely; they however are also busy, as it is high summer and the harvests are in full swing; also this autumn will be another tournament, at which your Master shall compete (how I wish you could be here for it!  You are certain, Bandy, your mother will not let you come?), so all the preparations are being made – Faramir told me that he had not realized how much Belecthor had done, in arranging the tournaments in years past; now that he is gone, the Lord of Emyn Arnen is finding it rather a more arduous task than he had expected, and Ethmor is not so wise as Belecthor was – so Lord Faramir has not the time to spare a thought for this silly maiden who has so made a fool of our dear friend.  Éowyn distrusts her, and Arwen looks askance at her; indeed Fríma said to me Laustairë embodied to her the worst aspects of maidenhood, being childish, obtuse, unwise, vain, thoughtless, simple-minded, arrogant and tittery – but Nardanë, she said, is strong-willed enough to quash her, being much wiser and better informed, and is struggling to cause Laustairë to conform to Legolas' view of her, most likely in fear he shall turn one day and discover he has been betrothed to a weightless, feather-brained fool.  I almost wish that would happen – in fact I am sure that is all that will save him in this, that he have the time to sit back and learn her foibles, discerning how impractical it would be to tie himself to this silly girl for all eternity.  So come quickly, Bandy!  You may achieve what all other friends may not, that you would speak your mind in this matter and Legolas would listen to you, with no fear of reprisal, for I believe he loves you best of us all, even myself, and I begrudge you not this, for of us two you are the more lovable I deem.

I meant not to upset you with this missive, Bandy, but I am so harrowed up in my mind concerning your Master that I cannot write of it but I grind my teeth and grip the quill so that it is crushed beneath my fingers.  Why I cannot even raise my letter-writing skills to my previous standards; if I sent off a missive as cavalier as this to my father he would certainly think I had lost all sense of propriety!

Anyway, when I wish to calm myself I try to think that perhaps we are mistaken, and making much of nothing.  After all I met your Master's betrothed but once and upon first acquaintance she is quite acceptable, and certainly very lovely; it is only hearsay I have that she is so irritating to the ladies of the court, and it may be jealousy as has been opined, for few men have anything evil to report of her; it is only the ladies who find her so irksome, and that may be just her youth – perhaps she shall outgrow this tendency of hers; after all she is fresh from childhood and has not yet had time to attain that grace and poise so admired in an Elven woman full-grown.  Yet do we, your Master's friends, want for him to be snared in a marriage in this way, waiting fifty years or more for his wife's character to approach like unto his own?  You did tell me, Bandy, that you wrote to him and begged him to reconsider, and that his reply was subtly discontented, resigned to his lot yet struggling to convince himself this was for the best; and you asked me, Bandy, if there was aught we could do for your Master:  I tell you this, lest Legolas be forced to come to his senses he shall certainly marry the maid, for he has ever been dutiful and unswerving in the carrying out of his obligations, being constant and unshakable in his convictions; no doubt he truly has been deceived by the maid's charm and beauty (and according to Seimiel, Nardanë's cunning), and needs only time to discern his error.  But then, what?  Is he capable of breaking this off, or even delaying it for a time (as I wish he would do)?  I know not the protocol in these instances, for this is more a political match than one of the heart, and Círdan a mighty lord indeed.

Well, that is neither here nor there; we have until late winter at least to convince him of his mistake, and I have hopes your mother will relent and allow you to come to us in time to prevent this calamity befalling your Master.  Tell her for me, if you please, that I shall come to fetch you myself, if that be her concern; I shall certainly let no ill befall you, as it shall most likely be your presence sways his judgment!

I am going to Ithilien for the tournament this autumn – I have yet been involved in mediating the clan-war here in Aglarond, which has pulled factions from the Westfold as well, much to King Éomer's disgust; it still rages through the caves, and it is for this reason I have been unable to go to Legolas myself – so it shall be some months before I am able to see him face to face; by then I hope he may have regained some sense (or she may have grown a little of her own; it appears she needs it even more than he); if not I shall sit him down and attempt to wrench his mind around to a more coherent sagacity.  Barring my success I shall travel up to the Shire myself and take you hostage, bringing you back so that you might do what I may not – and should your mother object, I shall certainly abduct her too; what harm after all could it do?  She at least could perform the function of Lady of Dol Galenehtar and preclude the need for this Laustairë!

Actually that is quite a fine idea; do you think she would object overmuch?  The high court in Dol Galenehtar is a superior one, and the people easily governed; it is a rich demesne and thought highly of in the area, so that she would be counted a great lady.  Well, it is just a thought.

Write to me; I never thought I should admit to this but I miss you as well, Bandy!

Gimli

(Conversation written upon a scrap of parchment, tucked into a scroll and placed in the library of Dol Galenehtar)

********************************************************************************************

Where is the Infant?

I know not.  In her rooms perhaps.  Why?

The Prince asked she be present at this meeting, for it is time she began to take up the reins of some government.

Did he ask her this himself?

Nay, you know he is in Amon Din this week, seeing to the Red Knight's borders with Lord Faramir.  He asked me to tell her when he left.

I assume then you did as he asked.  What did the Infant say?

She said she would come.

Yet she is absent.

Yes, I had assumed you would come to that conclusion as well.

Ask Hirilcúllas if she knows where the Infant is.

She whispered to me that the Infant is in the gardens playing with her new pet.

She will spoil that filly.

As it is so young this treatment is so far harmless.  What concerns me is her place, not her doings.

Perhaps she has forgotten.

She is very forgetful then.

And conveniently so.  Well, I cannot see that she would have much of an effect upon the outcome of this meeting.  Does she even know to where the northern border extends?  I have seen no evidence of interest in civic affairs on her part.

That is irrelevant.  Our Lord has instructed us to see to it that she begins to assume responsibility for the administration of power in the demesne.  I told her to be here and yet she has defied me, and her betrothed as well.

It is mere thoughtlessness on her part.  She does not understand the importance of such things.

What shall I say to Legolas when he returns?

That is not your concern.  You have done as he has asked; you cannot drag her by her hair to the council-chambers, much as that sight would amuse me.

I do not wish to tell him she has failed him.

Why not?  It is inevitable that he discover her incompetence and imprudence.

But to have it from my lips? I have no desire to hurt him so, nor to anger him.

He is a fool.

Perhaps so, but still a kind-hearted and generous one.  And do you wish to stir his wrath?  He becomes more like unto his father and less his mother as the centuries pass.

That is a cogent point.  I concede.  I am friendly with Nardanë; I shall speak with her.

She grows less and less able to control the Infant as the days go by. 

That is her concern.  She cannot hide the Infant's perfidy forever.  We have but to wait.

So you shall say naught to either the Prince or Galás?

Shall you?

Nay!  As you said, it is unavoidable.

How I wish Queen Edlothiel were here!  She would see the Infant for what she is.

Do you dislike the Infant then?

Nay.  I find her aggravating, as one would a buzzing insect; she is harmless but bothersome.  And she can be charming when she wishes to be.  But I do not know what Lord Círdan was thinking, that she was of an age to be wed; she may appear a woman full-grown but her mind is that of a child's.

I disagree; the Infant poses a great problem to us.  Would you submit to her will as Lady of Dol Galenehtar?

Well, Dúrfinwen?

I am thinking.  Wait.

In fifty or a hundred years' time perhaps, when she has matured.

A shame we must wait.

And a shame we cannot transplant Nardanë's soul in the Infant's body!

I blame her not for wanting to see to it the Infant is made Lady.  It would take her off her hands at least, and give her some peace.

She loves the Infant, you know.

She yet sees the orphaned baby given her in Mithlond.  She does all she can to persuade both us and the Infant that this is best for our fiefdom, but her mask is slipping.  This cannot go on.

You shall speak to the Prince then?

Nay, I desire still to rest in his good favor!  I shall leave that to braver souls – Lord Gimli perhaps.  But I shall drop a hint to Kaimelas.

And I shall speak with Nardanë.  She may yet be able to salvage this.

Is that what you want?

No.  But we ought to give her the chance at least.

I do not see why.  I want the Infant out.

And our Lord humiliated?

Of course not; do not be foolish, Dúrfinwen!

I see no other outcome.  Either he and the Infant wed and he be proved a fool, or the betrothal called off and he be shown a cad.

What a pity she is so in love with him!

At least he is not in love with her, Seimiel.  That would be painful indeed.

It is painful enough.

Yes.  There; we have finished, though I marked not the outcome.  Go you to Kaimelas and I shall speak to Nardanë.  I would like to have this resolved in part before our Lord returns.

You were ever the optimist.  No wonder he likes you best.

There is no need to be uncouth, my dear.

Meet me before the evening meal at the sundial.

Very well.

Legolas Thranduilion, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Once Again Champion of Amon Din and Loyal Ally of the Red Knight, Druadan

To Bandobras Took Son of Reginard, Beloved Esquire of the Green Knight, Steadfast Friend and Devoted Comforter, Crickhollow

My Dear Bandobras,

Greetings to you from Aldamir's keep!  The Red Knight and his beloved family send to you their salutations, my dear Little One, and beg me to convey to you their earnest felicities and overwhelming desires to make your acquaintance, for they have heard much of you from Lord Aldamir and me, and look forward to meeting you.  I have been teaching Lord Aldamir's eldest child, Galen, to speak your name; he says merely "Bannie" but his father and I think you shall not mind overmuch if he mispronounces it somewhat.  But when I say unto him, as he sits upon my lap, that when Spring comes it shall bring my Bandobras to me, he claps his dimpled paws and squeals, "Bannie come!  Bannie come!"  It is so far his favorite game to play with me – save his attempts to forcibly remove my ears, which I do not enjoy nearly so well.

The new baby is as are all babies the apex of perfection and beauty (if not in everyone's eyes at least in their parents') though I was spared the indignity of attending the birth; I suppose I should rather have wished to not be spared, as Aldamir, Faramir, and I were at the time of the infant's arrival leading some two hundred able-bodied men in a counter-skirmish upon the western borders of Amon Din.  King Éomer has harried the Dunlendings from his lands, which for Rohan is a good thing; however the blight which so afflicted the southern kingdoms affected the Dunlendings as well, and some have moved eastward seeking easy prey; their errors lay in believing the simple farmers and merchants of Lord Aldamir's demesne were "easy."  He, calling upon his neighbors for aid, did lead us unto them where they had captured a small village and imprisoned its citizens; we stormed the walls (fortunately they have both time and materials to rebuild them) and drove the invaders out, forcing them back to the deeps of Nardol, where they scattered in confusion; we pursued them even unto Firien, where we met one of the King's patrols, who did inform us that King Elessar had sent up through the Stonewain another two hundreds fresh from Minas Tirith, that would see that the miscreants were sent back whence they came.  And I know you shall ask, my dear Little One, so I shall inform you forthwith that Piukka acquitted himself splendidly, bearing his lord and all armor with the indifference engendered by his strength and wind, and faced the charges bravely, so that all the Dunlendings were terrified of him, and Aldamir's people hailed "the Green Knight upon his midnight destrier" in impromptu song.  Still do I miss Hatchet and his arrogant aggression upon the field of battle, but I am forced to admit Piukka is the superior steed.

So now we have returned to Amon Din, where the celebration of the new heir was muted awaiting our arrival; last night we held such a feast as to rival the commemoration of our victory against Eradan the Treacherous last Autumn, and all were glad, save Lady Lalanath, who had hoped I should act as midwife in her chambers.  (Shall I never be rid of that reputation, O Bandobras?  Ever since the birth of Hísimë have the ladies of Gondor and its surrounds begged me to attend them in their hour of labor!)  But Aldamir is quite content; he is happily wed, and has two small boys now, and a prosperous demesne; I look upon him and am envious, yet also filled with a subtle hope and a joy – soon the infants I dandle upon my knees shall be my own; soon I shall sit me beside the hearth flanked by a beloved wife and slumbering children; soon I too shall know the delight in holding within my palm the comfort of a family, and the encircling lands which both protect me, and which I protect.  O my dear Little One, how my heart is wrung within me when I sit in my dark corner, and watch my friend Aldamir with his lady and sons, gazing upon them in rapt adoration, filled with contentment and warmth and security!  For years uncounted I did wonder to myself if I should ever find that same happiness, and now though I initially did fight against it, it lies before me as a still deep pond that begs to be dived into – I shall break the glassy surface of that water, my Bandobras, and see what secret pleasures await me at its depths!

I know that you and many of my friends have opposed this match between Laustairë and me, and in truth I opposed it as well; but having seen what domestic joys might be mine I am all the more convinced this is the right path for me to take.  Alas, I have not had time to become well-acquainted with my betrothed, for ever have my duties occluded my time; yet Nardanë has assured me that in my absence shall Laustairë begin to assume her role as Lady of Dol Galenehtar, and soon shall we side by side rule my demesne, so dividing the work between us that the severity of my labors shall be halved and I shall at last have rest.  I am certain she and I shall grow to love each other in time, and to be honest, my Bandobras, if I can learn to love a Dwarf, stubborn Elf that I am, it shall be simplicity indeed to learn to love my wife!

You expressed concern in your last letter, my dear Little One, that I stretched myself "too thin;" you are correct of course; there is so much work to be done in the building of a kingdom, which I hope (and Galás and Hirilcúllas share my wish) shall be ameliorated in time.  My Lord Father did counsel me that it took him full twenty years ere Taur e-Ndaedelos became truly established, with all policies and laws comfortably implemented, and that my load shall be somewhat lighter, as Dol Galenehtar has this advantage, that its neighbors are so judicious, and its lords friends of mine.  Also we are at peace, and the lands I struggle to coax into productivity previously cultivated, so that soon shall we find within ourselves the gently circling seasons as they pulse out the heartbeat of the earth – winter's sleep to spring, spring's blossom to summer, summer's heat to autumn, autumn's bounty to winter – and there shall be few true concerns save the niggling and petty details of land-ownership, livestock, irrigation, taxes and tithe, fluctuating prices, and (in some cases) the odd skirmish.  I have been promised that all the talans and towers shall be completed within two to three years (bless Gimli for his keenness!), and then we might devote more time to the creation and preservation of the woodlands and gardens, which have been sadly neglected while we struggle to find for ourselves fit places to rest our weary heads.   How I wish you were here to see it, my Bandobras!  How your heart would thrill as mine at the sight of the houses and spires of my people, winking coyly through the boughs of great trees and piercing the canopy like spearheads; how I long to have you here with me!  Would that your uncle had not proved obdurate, and married his Diamond in good time; then already perhaps you would be on your way to see me, and I should have this consolation at least, that you would be with me ere I commit this last witless lunacy approaching.  For yes, my dear Little One, I fear it greatly – it is a strange thing for me, to both fear and desire the same thing – greatly do I covet warmth and wife and family, yet I fear it too; it is a battlefield of unknown proportions, and I feel in myself I am grossly unprepared for it, as though I rode out to meet an enemy clad only in a night-shirt, and armed with naught but a stick.  And although I know you yourself are not of an age to wed I would rather have your advice and counsel beside me than almost any other's, for you are ever practical, my Bandobras, and soothing in your incisiveness; rather would I have one Bandobras than a thousand wives and children to succor me, and I am desolate in your absence.

Well I have been called for dinner, and Lord Aldamir awaits; Meivel sends his greetings and begs to be remembered to one so dearly loved.  I shall send this missive with Aldamir's next courier, and it ought to reach you ere the Tournament has begun.  How I wish you were here; how you would love the spectacle!  If only you and Gimli and I could return to that time, my dear Little One, when we had naught but us three in my grand green tent, and Hatchet and Arod and Thistle stamped and nickered in their enclosure, and your meals, my Bandobras – how I miss your cookery!  Well, perhaps it shall not be so long now; would that you were here to fix me mushrooms – I have not had mushrooms prepared properly since you quit me in the Shire – not that Gimli minds I think; he was ever indifferent to that dish.

Please write to me and quickly, my Bandobras!  As the Day approaches I find myself missing my Esquire more and more.

Your Loving Master,

Legolas

Nardanë Daughter of Parímoëar, of Lindon

To Kalamiril Daughter of Menelúin of Mithlond, my Beloved Friend,

Greetings,

O my dear Kalamiril, what trouble I have!  How I wish you were here to advise me, for as the days pass I become all the more cognizant this task is beyond me, and I suspect we erred greatly in so blindly obeying our Lord!  Ever do I grow more despondent that I shall turn this child of ours into anything that has semblance to the Lady of an Elven realm; I know not why I have been charged with this task, but suspect I have offended Lord Círdan in some way and this is my punishment. 

I had hopes that the deep affection and high regard she has for her betrothed might spur her to the proper performance of her duties here (which are light for now, but shall increase with time; if she cannot succeed in small things how shall she ever fulfill the full measure of her tasks!) but alas I have been unsuccessful in communicating this progression of thought to her – she does truly believe, my friend, that she has naught to do but to dance and sing and spout accolades upon her "beautiful prince" and he shall remain ignorant of her lack of desire to see to the administration of her demesne.  Why only last week came Seimiel and Dúrfinwen unto me, telling me Lord Legolas had instructed them to bring her to a council regarding the new vineyards to the north, and she did not go – did not even bother telling them she would not go.  I apologized for her behavior as best I could (though I am growing ever more averse to this; I feel as though I am deceiving them) and went straightway to Laustairë to question her on this matter; she replied airily that she thought meetings were "boring" and did not understand why she should be concerned with agriculture.  I tried – O Kalamiril, how I tried! – to gently and kindly impress upon her the importance of her involvement in these matters, and she grew angry first, then petulant, which as you know she ever does to mask her shame; she said sullenly that she knew nothing of vineyards, she could add nothing to the discussion, she was training her little mare to do a trick for Legolas' return – I confess, my friend, that I became quite cross then, and was utterly unable to rein in my temper; I railed at her, calling her inconsiderate, selfish and indolent; she wept, and told me I was harsh and unsympathetic and cruel.  You may well imagine, my Kalamiril, how our conversation degenerated at that point – why, you have been present at many of its permutations, have you not?  I increasingly enraged, she silent and sullen, until I realized I was waiting upon you to enter, that you might soothe us both and bring us to an accord – but O my Kalamiril, you were not there to do so!  Upon my honor I know not how I shall turn her, for she is increasingly stubborn upon this point, that she shall be the lady of a rich and well-loved Elven lord, and has no need to labor upon such topics – she said she shall do naught but arrange the parties and feasts and celebrations.  At that point I realized, my friend, you should have leapt upon that concession and instructed her to take a part in the planning of Lord Legolas' return from Amon Din, but she was so far gone in her sulk my appeal fell upon deaf ears.  So now she shall do naught but sit in her room and read, or sit in the garden and embroider, or go unto the back stable and visit her little mare – and I?  I am attempting to coerce Galás and Hirilcúllas to allow me to take on her load, so that at least I might instruct her in her duties in private away from the faces of the others, for I suspect she is uncomfortable around them, as they are all older, and strange to her; perhaps this is why she shuns them, evading her education.

Indeed she has made no friends here, Kalamiril, which concerns me; at first I thought she and Seimiel were becoming sociable, for she is an affable and gracious lady is Seimiel and I enjoy her company very much; however Laustairë (in her nervousness, I could tell, and also in her desire to have the ladies of the court like her) spoke too much upon the subject of her clothing – you know she does babble when she is nervous, and is seeking for a suitable subject of conversation – and clothing, at least, is something she knows a bit about – but it had very little effect upon the lady, and I could see her growing ever more agitated, until at last after several fruitless attempts to change the subject the conversation died.  This was aggravating, for at the same time Laustairë was discussing her wardrobe I could catch tantalizing snippets of conversation upon the other side of the table, betwixt Legolas and several others, concerning the docks at the south wall of Minas Tirith and the difficulties engendered by the increased traffic brought on by new trade.  This obviously ought to concern us, as our own ships shall be docking there as well on their way to Osgiliath; however when I attempted to deflect Laustairë from her subject I was thwarted by her love of frippery; she would rather have discussed the new pattern of lace she has discovered, which shall be attached to the bodice of her wedding gown.

Do you see, Kalamiril?  Do you see how frustrated I am?  And it is not so bad that she makes all of us to look like fools; I am becoming ever more perturbed regarding Legolas' own fate; how can I countenance giving this child, this vain, foolish, lovable child, as a bride to such a one as he?  He is affable, Kalamiril, and so gentle and tender with her; yet in battle, Meivel told me, he is ferocious and obdurate, feared by his enemies and admired by his allies.  I had occasion just this evening to overhear him as he played upon his lute in his chambers for the two small children of the Lord and Lady of Emyn Arnen; he is so good with them, Kalamiril, so affectionate and receptive; I have heard him say he is looking forward with enthusiasm to being a father – but in truth I cannot countenance the thought of allowing him to wed her with that aim in mind.  Her a mother!  Why she is still a child herself; and she has on numerous occasions here proved to me she cannot aspire to such a thing as he expects of her!  O what shall I do, Kalamiril?  That you were here to advise me, to bend her to your will as you always have, to coerce her to take this one last step towards her inheritance as a Lady of Mithlond, to be the Lady of Dol Galenehtar!  I rue the day I ever accepted this charge from my lord, that I should with all diligence work to acquire a suitable mate for the child; Legolas is more than suitable for her, but she, alas! is far from suitable for one such as he.

All this week has she been stiff and irritable with me, pointedly ignoring me when we are alone together, and laving me with condescending politesse in view of others; she however to my relief has been attentive and coy with her betrothed, so lavishing upon him her charm and beauty he remains quite ignorant of her true state; I do not blame him much in this, for he is rarely here; the season, he did inform me, is hectic enough, but so much has been happening all at once that he has scarcely slept nor had respite in some months.  I feel for him, Kalamiril; he is so busy, and his seneschal and secretary are as well; it should have been a grand thing indeed for him, had he wed you instead of Laustairë, for you at least understand the necessity to involve yourself in mundane affairs; after all it is in the attention to little things that a kingdom is smoothly run.  Have we failed somehow in our duty, my friend?  Did we neglect Laustairë's education on this point?  Or is this, as you oftimes assured me, but a passing phase for her, which she shall outgrow as surely as she did thumb-sucking and lisping?  And what of Legolas?  What shall I tell him, when finally he realizes Galás and Hirilcúllas have not had Laustairë's aid in any of their doings?  When he awakens to the realization that his betrothed is naught but a silly, proud, diffident child?  When he become conscious of the fact that I have for the past several months been involved in a desperate ploy to hide this from him, that our lord's desires might be met?  He has already been disappointed I think; he had expected upon his return from Amon Din to hear she had become involved in the problem of irrigating the new plantings, but his disillusionment was overshadowed by her (I grit my teeth as I admit this) enchanting welcome of him when he rode within his gates; she had dressed especially to please him, having overheard he preferred the color green, and was leading her little Goermeril all bedecked in flowers; she sang unto him a song of her own composition in her sweet voice, and when he had dismounted threw her arms about his neck and embraced him in full view of the court.  Were she not so artless I should have been impressed for this display so turned the tide of affection – on his part as well as the greater part of his subjects' – in her favor that all her infractions were forgotten.  And during the celebratory banquet she sat at his side and listened with rapt attention to the account of the battle – at least, I may assume she took heed of what he said; she watched him to be certain, but then she does that anyway, and she might have been simply admiring the way the lamplight "glinted upon his golden sheet of hair and reflected in his starry eyes," as I heard her say.  And O Kalamiril, he seemed so pleased with her, so taken with her warmth and attention; she has enchanted him so that he does not realize she is a mere trinket upon his arm, hollow, expensive, and worthless.

O how you would rebuke me for that, my friend!  Perhaps you are correct to censure me when I act this way; I thought the older she became the less she should irritate me, but it is not so; she pains me more now than ever she did before.

Write to me and quickly, my Kalamiril; nay, come to me instead, ere the snow flies, that you might advise me in what I ought to do!  Shall I approach Legolas and make a clean breast of my duplicity; shall I take into my confidence Gimli of Aglarond who is his best friend; shall I attempt to speak to either Lady Éowyn or Queen Undómiel (neither of whom I may tell you trust Laustairë in the slightest) and gain their counsel?  Shall I write to our lord, informing him of the obstacles I have encountered, and beg him to withdraw the suit?  Tell me, I beg of you; I am so perplexed I can scarce think.  At least Laustairë has taken interest in the Tournament that approaches – though I admit she is more attracted to the promise of pageantry than the trials of arms themselves, much to my disgust – perhaps I can constrain her to take some part in its arrangement, and so break through this stubborn shell of hers, that protects her from involvement in any of the doings of this demesne.  What is it, my friend, that has so paralyzed her?  I do not remember her being so in Mithlond!  She was so busy there, so caught up in every function; why is she so obstinate with me?  What am I doing wrong?

I shall end this letter here, or drive myself mad.  I am going down to the stables; perhaps there I shall find someone with whom I might speak and feel at ease.  The night is so fragrant and still, and the stars shimmer upon Elbereth's dark cloak . . . How I wish you could be here with me, my Kalamiril, so that we might arms entwined walk upon the green lawns, paddle in the cool chuckling streams and seek out the shimmering waterfalls by moonlight!  O, I should love it here were it not for Laustairë! 

There – I have mentioned it again.  I shall quit you now, or you will grow angry with me, and then I should be more desolate than I already am.

How I miss you!

Nardanë

Lord Círdan of Mithlond

and

King Thranduil and Queen Edlothiel of Eryn Lasgalen

Do request your presence in Ithilien

At the Mereth en'Ehtelé

At which all shall witness the joining of their heirs

Laustairë Daughter of Parímoëar, Ward of Círdan

To

Legolas Thranduilion, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, Councilor of King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor, Hero of the Ring War

So shall all witness the joining of our Houses

And their union in this Final Age in Middle Earth for our People

That we in Harmony reflect their coming together

And with Rejoicing Celebrate their confluence as Husband and Wife

Ilúvatar bless their bond for all eternity

Both here and upon the shores to come

Bandobras Took Son of Reginard, Esquire of the Green Knight (though at this rate I'll be full-grown and past it by the time I get back to Ithilien), Crickhollow

To Gimli son of Glóin, Lord of Aglarond, my Friend Despite the Fact He Won't Admit to Liking my Mushrooms, Rohan

Dear Gimli,

I have just had a letter from my Master, describing an incident I find mighty disturbing; he's trying to brush it off, Gimli, but I can tell it's worrying him, and eating away like at his mind; I know you've been awful busy, what with the clan war and the new vein of gold and all, but do you think you could sort this out for me?  I can't quite get the rights of it, for though it sounds a little thing to me it obviously means a good bit more, but what that might be is beyond my understanding.

Now, you know, Gimli, that the hook that's snared my Master in this whole Marriage Thing is the fact that he's fair put-upon right now, what with all the new plantings and orchards and babies and weddings and invasions and trade agreements and all, and that having a wife about the place might make things a bit easier on him.  I see that well enough for myself; why, Cousin Merry and Uncle Pip did both tell me they wanted Mother and me to move in with them in Crickhollow so that there would be a Lady at the helm to help them out, and that their jobs were ever so much easier with her there seeing to the household; that's what my Master has said to me, that he won't mind having a wife so long as she pulls her weight, like.  But then I get this here letter this very afternoon (I am writing in bed by candle-light, and I hope Mother doesn't find me because then I'll catch it but good) relating some conversation he found hidden in a scroll someplace – I didn't quite get that, Gimli, it sounded odd to me – saying this Laustairë's been skiving off her job and it's all been hushed up, but he's trying to brush it off, like, saying she's been doing quite a bit training up her little horse (a bit early to break her I think; the filly's not even a year old yet, is it?) and loves to read and hasn't made no friends and is lonely and it's his fault as he's been so busy he can't get to know her and – O Gimli, I can't tell you all he said, and I don't want to write it down neither for he'd think it an awful breach of trust if he ever found out – is he really that unhappy, Gimli?  He sounds so awfully unhappy, and this Laustairë sounds a bit like my neighbor's daughter Beryl who spends most of her time finding little chores to do that keep her busy enough that she doesn't have to help with the haying or harvesting or picking or pickling or preserving – clever, but awful devious, and her mother can't say nothing because really Beryl IS doing some useful things but never what her family REALLY needs for her to do and never what her mother ASKS her to do, is that what Laustairë's doing then?  It certainly sounds like it and I know my Master's fair puzzled wondering what to do about it, for by rights he can't say nothing neither, as he's not her husband yet and can't boss her about, nor does he know her as a friend and can tell her he sees past her sly ways, and he still has to make up to her for they skipped the courting part of their betrothal and he's got an awful lot of catching up to do on that front and if he tries to tick her off about her slacking off it won't do him much good for she'll be all huffy and indignant, just like Beryl gets, and let me tell you the young fellows are steering shy of HER.  Has all the appearance of being a good catch, she does, but we all know it's just a front for she'd rather putter about in the house straightening curtains and fluffing pillows and fixing tea than getting up hay or churning the butter or rubbing down the ponies.  Mother says she's been spoilt and I believe it; funny it is, that I'm fifteen years her junior yet I see it and she don't, for I overheard her at Market last week complaining she hadn't got a beau.  Well, who'd want a lass like that, all moonshine and lace and pretty words, with no grit behind it?  And my Master wants grit, I can tell you, Gimli, and seeing that his betrothed hasn't got none is starting to worry him – I can tell from the way he's writing, I can, and it's making me awfully worried.

So I want you to go to Ithilien and put this mess to rights – if she's neglecting her duties by my Master she needs to be straightened out, and if it's just ignorance well then she needs a good dose of tongue-lash – and as I'm not there I guess it's up to you to administer it, and you can let the clan war go hang.  Let one of your other people deal with it – isn't there some Dwarf lady who could handle it?  Seems to me my Master did tell me once Dwarf women are better about those things than Dwarf men, is that true, Gimli, or was he just thinking of your mother?  Thinks a lot of her, he does; sang her praises up one side and down the other; made me want to meet her myself.  Shall I ever meet her, Gimli?  She was away when we were at Erebor, though I met your Dad and found him a capital fellow.  I'd dearly love to meet your mother for my Master told me she had a beard, and I've never seen a lady with a beard before, barring Gammer Proudfoot up in Hobbiton who has a sort of mustache, but Mother says I'm not allowed to speak of it.  Why is that, Gimli?  It's not as though it'll hurt her chances of finding a beau for she's gone through two husbands already and is being courted by a third, though I think if she's going to be so wasteful with the menfolk she ought rather to let some other old lady have a go.

O that reminds me, Gimli, that Cousin Merry and Uncle Pip thought they'd have a tournament at the last fair in Hobbiton; got all dressed up in their armor and had Mayor Gamgee cut them some lances (did a right fine job, he did, though he'd never seen a proper jousting lance before) and I showed them how to pass each other at the tilt; they did a fair job of it and Uncle Pip knocked Cousin Merry off his pony, then Cousin Merry got back on and knocked Uncle Pip off HIS pony, then everyone got very excited and a couple of the lads decided they'd give it a go but they wouldn't listen to me when I told them they weren't holding the lances right and one of them was nearly killed dead except he was flung into the flour-bin instead of down the hill to the sharp rocks below, where he certainly would have ended up if the flour bin hadn't of been there, and Mother said it's a mercy he wasn't killed and gave Uncle Pip such a tongue-lashing I'm surprised he has any hide left on him.  But Estella thought it a right lark, and said to me private-like afterwards it done her a world of good to see that popinjay Mungo Sackville come up all covered in flour like a lumpy loaf of bread dough, and it's true enough that's what he resembled for Mungo's awful fond of his victuals and is even fatter than Master Bolger.

At any rate you need to go to Ithilien and get to the bottom of this; Mother says I'm not to leave for the Wedding until late winter which I think is awfully unfair, as the traveling will be terrible then, but it can't be helped for Diamond hasn't anything in her trousseau at all being so young and getting a little behind-hand in her sewing.  Why is it womenfolk need new clothes when they wed?  Aren't their old ones good enough?  They helped them catch their husbands at least.

Write to me, Gimli, and let me know what we ought to do; if things are bad I'll leave anyway – I made it all the way past Bree when I was just a little bit of a thing, and I'm sure I can make it further now I'm so much older.

Bandobras

Elessar, King of Gondor and Arnor, the Elfstone, Aragorn son of Arathorn, Minas Tirith,

To Legolas Thranduilion, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, of the Nine Walkers, Bane of the Fell Beast, Friend and Beloved Councilor to the King,

Greetings.

With dismay did I hear of this last incident, my friend, concerning your betrothed, though I am constrained to inform you this came as no surprise to Undómiel; your future is a subject of much debate in my Lady's rooms among her maids, for you have ever been a favorite of theirs; I was surprised at first to hear the match between you and Laustairë of Mithlond was greeted with such lack of enthusiasm, but now we have become better acquainted with the child perchance I am the more informed and can advise you better.  To be honest my Undómiel has ever been opposed to this union, though she did admit to me her chagrin was due in part to her desire to awaken your interest in one of her own friends; now however she has recanted this wish, saying perhaps you are not meant to be wed, and urging emphatically you ought certainly not be wed to your betrothed.  For myself I should be more circumspect; I have no objections to your finding a wife, and unquestionably it was gratifying to match Dol Galenehtar with Mithlond both within and without your bed chambers (also 'twould be a great pity if you did not have children of your own; I have watched you these past years and know of a certainty your heart yearns specially for that particular reward); however the last letter I have had of you, and missives I have had from Faramir and Éowyn and also Gimli upon this subject, suggest to me that perchance this maid is not truly meant for you.

It is a pity, for I have met Laustairë and like her well enough; she is young, though, even as I would count youth, and Arwen maintains she has no understanding of the workings of politics and its ramifications.  Also from what you have told me, concerning this incident you mentioned, she has neither desire nor ability to commence her duties as your lady; now this is not so great an obstacle, for wisdom and aptitude will come with time and experience, and there is naught to be done about it.  My greater concern, my friend, is this one phrase you did write to me in that last letter, of which I shall remind you:  "Until the harvest is over I have little time to spare to become the better acquainted with her; yet even those moments we have are stunted by the feeling I get from her, that she is uneasy in company, and will speak to me only when we are alone, which is almost never; yet even then I find nothing about which we may converse comfortably; at times it is as though we two speak separate tongues."  You went on then, my friend, to ask of me the subjects of casual conversation betwixt my beloved and me; I assure you, Legolas, there is no restraint there; my Undómiel is I deem also my close friend as well as my wife, and I am at ease in her presence whether in speech or in silence.  If after these past months you still find in Laustairë nothing save her physical form to so attract you this is no good thing, for though as an Elf her loveliness shall fade not there is no inherent advantage in beauty save as entertainment for the eyes.  You know this, my friend; you have said so, indeed you said so in our last conversation together when we met in Minas Tirith:  and even Laustairë's especial charms beside her fair face have no value if they are not coupled with wit, wisdom, and strength of character – three traits, I fear, she is so far lacking.

I beg you, Legolas, be not wroth with me for my words; I know you have set your heart on the maid, yet do not your feelings of unease betray a deeper sense of foreboding?  Shall you bind yourself to Laustairë knowing she might be an impediment and not a helpmeet to you, reducing her to becoming a mere ornament to dangle from your arm whilst you are together in public; yet behind chamber doors will reign discontent and disappointment?  O do not do such a thing, Legolas!  Rather would I see the treaty betwixt you and Círdan broken than to have you so unhappy; rather would I see you live alone in your tower than to know you are constrained to share it for eternity with a maid who does not nor cannot deserve you.  That she cares nothing for your deeds of bravery and prowess upon the battlefield, nor for your labors in Ithilien and the great works you accomplish there, is indicative of her temperament, and all the ladies' maids here have said to Undómiel that Laustairë is aloof and unfriendly, displaying the notion she feels her friendship is too precious a thing to share with the likes of them; even you said to me, my friend, that she has no companions in Dol Galenehtar save Nardanë, who is likable enough; yet one would have thought after so many months she should have foregathered with at least one or two of the ladies of your court.

I do not pretend to understand her, Legolas, for I have not spoken to her but once or twice, and on those occasions could scarcely get four words out of her; perhaps she is uneasy in our presence, and not merely standoffish; I attempt to give her the benefit of the doubt for your sake when I say this, that you should perhaps charge one of your ladies to watch her, to attempt to determine whether her unfriendliness is due to pride or to bashfulness (though after what you have told me certainly neither Dúrfinwen nor Seimiel are suitable for that task; perhaps Andunië would be preferable, as she was uninvolved in the discovery of this dilemma).  Also go you unto Nardanë and tell her you shall not be gainsaid, and Laustairë is to take up some duty ere you are wed; if she cannot control the child I believe no one shall.  It is not your task, my friend, to wrench the maid to your will; she ought to accept her commissions joyfully, and not cause so much perturbation on her account.  And I strongly suggest you write to your Lady Mother, in whose eyes all pretensions wither – the sooner she will come to you, my friend, the sooner we shall know the heart of this child whom you have promised to wed.

Barring these things I cannot think of any else to say, save I agree wholeheartedly with Gimli, in that it would be wise to delay this wedding a year at least; harvest is nearly ended, and our Tournament approaches, and after that the winter with its many functions, then Spring shall be upon us, and the Mereth en'Ehtelé, and then it shall be too late for you.  You are so mild, my friend, and so willing to place the well-being of others ahead of your own, but in this I beg of you to be the more selfish, lest you find yourself enmired too deeply to be rescued even by your old brothers-in-arms Gimli and me.

You shall be present at the reception in the White Tower for Vorondil; we shall speak further on this subject then, and I shall set my Undómiel to pierce your betrothed's armor, and perchance discover what motives lurk therein.  Fear not, my friend; this is no irreversible thing!  Perhaps we shall save you yet.

Be well, Legolas, and do you not work so hard; you do not grow ill but you are certainly very weary, and you cannot keep up this pace without it taking its toll upon you.  I am concerned for you; I see you are troubled and exhausted, and your toil drains you; this ought not to be, and we ought rather than add to your burdens to seek a more feasible remedy for you.

I shall see you in some weeks.  Try to get some rest!

Your friend,

Aragorn

Laustairë, Scion of the House of Lord Círdan of Mithlond, Daughter of Tiriámrun, Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien

To Kalamiril Daughter of Menelúin of Mithlond, Beloved Friend, Counselor and Confidant,

O Kalamiril I am so despondent, so sunk in the depths of misery, I can barely put pen to parchment I am so unhappy, so desperately miserable, for I have just discovered my betrothed is not the man I thought him to be!  O what desolation is mine, what gloom and despair!  Never did I think to bear such suffering and misfortune!  That life should be so inequitable, that I should be visited by such excessive and unwarranted dissent!  And I am alone, so unutterably alone, O Kalamiril, even Nardanë has abandoned me, and I lie wretched and forsaken in my rooms, weeping so that the very river beneath me seems but a paltry trickle!  Better it were that I had died as an infant than to be thrust into such sorrow and distress!  And how my heart breaks within me – what an awful thing it is to have one's heart to break – never did I think to see my betrothed, my beautiful prince, so unreasonably wroth; how cold he is, and how unfeeling!  Now I am certain he never did love me – I have had this from his very lips – I am to be his wife solely as a slave, a common servant in the household upon whom he will heap dreadful labor and arduous drudgery and toil!  O Kalamiril how shall I ever bear this, for so my heart burns within me, so lost am I in chagrin and anger and sorrow and distress!  Whatever shall I do, O my friend and champion?  O but come to me quickly and deliver me from this!  I have sent a letter unto my Lord begging, imploring, pleading him to release me from this bondage, this horrible slavery, yet I have heard nothing yet – to be sure it has been but one day – but I am so far away from everyone – O what have I done to deserve this!  All I have ever wanted was to love and receive love in return, yea, even pity would have done fair well; all I have ever aspired to was to create for my beloved a kingdom full of laughter and song, light and music, gaiety and celebration, yet all my plans have been thrust aside and I see before me naught but a life of drudgery and privation!  My dreams have been dashed, Kalamiril, my soul crushed beneath this weight and I can scarce bear the load!  And he is so unsympathetic, so cruel and harsh, Kalamiril; how could I have thought his fair countenance housed within it a soul equal to his beauty?  O but he is cold, cold and severe; he has been poisoned by the ladies of the court against me, who have ever resented and hated me; they have all conspired against me, bringing before him charges of neglect and indolence against which I cannot argue for I am not quick or clever of tongue, only do I strive to bring before my betrothed a vista of brightness and pleasure and hope and it has been thrown back in my face, Kalamiril, thrown like a clod of dirt, besmirching my countenance in his eyes and dragging me into the very depths of despondency!  How they hate me and how they attempt to make him hate me too, I who have only desired to make for him a home of light and happiness!  O I am crushed beneath their uncaring feet, these cruel and vainglorious and envious maids, Dúrfinwen and Hirilcúllas and Andunië and worst of the lot Seimiel!  I begrudge them not their desire of my betrothed for he is lovely, lovely yet cold and severe and insensitive; it would serve them well to be so bound to him as I am, that their hearts would break as well!  O but I shall prevail, Kalamiril; I shall prove to them I am no vain trinket, no mere child to be so treated; I shall demonstrate also to my cruel betrothed that I can withstand this, endure his cold temper and bear up beneath his crushing disdain; I shall clothe myself also in ice and obduracy, showing to the world an indifferent and uncaring face, that all will know his brutality I scorn, their condescension spurn, their contempt I disparage.  That they should treat me so, who only wished to clothe this kingdom in wealth and happiness and joy!  And Nardanë has so turned from me, so betrayed me that I am all the more despondent, I have no one here, Kalamiril, I am alone, utterly alone.  O that they shall rue the day they have treated me so!  I am a scion of the house of Círdan and shall not be treated in this fashion and well they shall know it!

Laustairë

P.S.  It is a good thing you sent to me my trousseau, for now I shall have no need to go unto the dressmakers of Osgiliath or Minas Tirith.  Worse even than these denizens here are the mortals of the surrounding areas who poison my betrothed's mind against me.  But soon he shall look upon me and lament the day he hurt me so, for now my heart is of iron and he must woo me in earnest lest I spurn him wholly!

L.

Legolas Thranduilion, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, the Green Knight of Gondor, Still A Fool But Not Quite So Foolish As He Had Been Before, Ithilien

To Bandobras Took son of Reginard, My Faithful Esquire, Whose High Opinion of His Master's Acumen is Greatly Exaggerated, Crickhollow,

My Dear Bandobras,

Well, I have done it; I have delayed the wedding.  Now ere you disturb the household with your rejoicing I may tell you it is delayed not suspended; I do not easily rescind either decision or oath no matter how much I may regret any imprudent choice on my part; it is not in my nature to be so fickle, or to disdain my promises.  And I may tell you that though my heart is heavy I feel I have done the right thing in this; I have given my betrothed the additional time she obviously requires to adjust to her new home, and her new duties; I have neither discarded nor rejected her, and for that all ought to feel deep relief, for I was sorely tempted to so do.

Your advice, O my dear Little One, was invaluable and welcome, also the advice of our inestimable friend Gimli; between those two, and with the collusion of King Elessar, Queen Undómiel, Faramir and Éowyn, Cirien and Aldamir, I have knelt in humility and admitted my folly; difficult as this was to do I went in mortification of spirit unto my betrothed, enlightening her as to my resolution and defending my judgment in this, that we should say not this spring but the following, so that she and I shall be the better acquainted, and she the better able to take up her duties as my lady.  That she in her pretext disappointed me I could not help but reveal, though I refrained from harshness knowing her to be very young and perhaps ignorant of the distress she has caused; she railed against Dúrfinwen and Seimiel but I defended them saying they did naught but that which I as their lord did properly require of them.  At this she quieted, and looked at me keenly; I did see passing before her face a shadow of enlightenment followed by an expression of remorse, and I did perceive within her the prickings of conscience.  I know not whether this moratorium shall produce its proper fruit but I have this at least upon my side, that I have in all fairness given her a second chance, and I am now sure, as she has in the past assured me of her love for me, she shall prove it unto me not with vain action but with solid evidence of labor; indeed Andunië has said unto me that she has thrown herself into the preparations for the Tournament with all enthusiasm and interest, applying her energies to its workings and heeding instruction with meekness.  But O how my heart did wring itself in my chest as I spoke!  I could see within her the fracturing of her innocence as I remonstrated her, and in truth I believe she is as disappointed in me as I am with her, that I am not the indulgent lord she took me for, but am as flawed as any other – I am pained that I am the first to have taken her so to task, and crushed her naïveté; would that someone – anyone – had been in such a position before me to do it!  It was exceedingly distressing to know her esteem in me has been so blemished.

But there; that is my pride speaking; I admit I was pleased to be seen as one so lofty and noble, and it did my dignity perhaps too much good, feeding my conceit so with her blushes and accolades; this is better for me though, for I am brought low, and now we may come together without pretense or expectation.  For after all what matters it if we suffer some months of distress on account of a deeper goal, that is, our eternity together; I should rather this event have occurred than to have discovered it after we were wed, for then would I have been not so distressed as angry; as it is there is yet time to repair this oversight.  But it is still mortifying, my Bandobras; had I been wiser and less prone to flattery I should have discovered this all the earlier and so prevented a painful incident.

Well!  It is over for now, at least, and my betrothed shows every sign of repentance; I shall do all I can now, as the Tournament is nearly upon us and the harvest is ended, to foregather with her and see to her personal comforts and needs; I have been most neglectful in this, though I admit I have been very busy; perhaps now we have been given this pause we shall discover in each other more of the camaraderie and ease that have so far been lacking.

O and speaking of matrimony, my dear Little One, here is a tidbit of news for you, which shall forever prevent further teasing from you upon the subject of one of my ladies!  Seimiel and Kaimelas have announced their betrothal; long did I suspect their private discourse and low-voiced conversation of hiding deeper sentiment; for long centuries have I watched them, smiling in secret over their unconscious intimacy and oblivious familiarity; now it appears my own struggles have brought this to a head, and Kaimelas in frustration did make an appeal for Seimiel's heart, which she in honesty could not gainsay him; now they are finally to be bound, and all are relieved; they are eminently suited, my Bandobras, moreso than Seimiel and I ever would have been; she shall care for him most tenderly, and he shall give unto her all the esteem and admiration and affection she craves; I am most satisfied with this, for I love them both very much, and am overjoyed to see them so gone in bliss.  As a dearly beloved sister to me has been Seimiel, and long have I desired to see her paired with one worthy of her; that it is my dear friend Kaimelas who has been so privileged is yet one more reason to love them the more.  So there you are, my Little One!  Did I not tell you again and again that Seimiel and I were naught but friends and incompatible together?  Now at least that is one subject upon which I need fear no further provocation!

You have not said, my Bandobras, how fares the restoration of Long Bank; our last few letters have been rather more fraught with matrimonial import than usual, and I miss our discussion of the tidings and doings of your own land – how nice it would be to live in the Shire, how bucolic and comforting!  That I could be with you now, instead of in my own demesne – not that I detest Ithilien in any way but you must admit the circumstances in which I now find myself are far from restful – I should greatly like to sit with you at your hearth, my head upon your dear mother's lap, talking of insignificant trivialities with you in the gloaming, or wandering upon the northern downs beneath the stars, or playing with Samwise Gamgee's children upon the Hill – would that not be pleasant, my Bandobras?  Or better yet to find my fiefdom at peace, with tilth and tillage resolved, treaties upheld and economies stable, so that you and I could travel at will to Rohan to foregather with Gimli there, to sit upon the high wall of Helm and gaze upon the ancient keep of warriors, to descend the winding golden stair to the wonders beneath the Deep, to hear the Dwarves' sonorous chanting and booming drums echo back from far wall to high ceiling!  Then at last to return to our home here, to climb the tower and stand upon the balcony gazing down upon my lands, at the jutting peaks and swelling green hills, the misty cataracts and glittering rivers, the rustling oak and swaying pine, the fruitful vine and laden tree; is this what you then desire, Bandobras my dear?  To forswear your own lands and kindred to dwell with your Master and his people in this strange and wild place?  That you would submit to my headship for the duration of your apprenticeship is astonishing enough – I shall think no more of it, lest I long too deeply for that which ought rather be denied me; you are a Hobbit and I an Elf; you mortal and bound to the fate of your folk and I bound instead to the sands of Valinor – that I think not of my betrothed in this is a shameful thing, but in truth as things stand I do not see us ever coming to so comfortable an accord as you and I have together.  O that you were here, my Bandobras, to distract me from my cares!  Well, at least we have this as our consolation:  you shall be here well before I am to be wed, and can become acquainted with Laustairë as well, so that I may see even more clearly of what she is made, for you are my touchstone, O my dear Little One; before your unprejudiced eye all pretension shall wither and I shall be made more wise.  I seem to have lost my sight in this, my Bandobras; I am as astute as ever in the council-chamber or upon the battlefield or at the vine, but in this one domestic conundrum I am the greatest fool who walked upon the earth.

And here comes Kaimelas himself, scolding me for my lack of regard for my guests – I have been neglectful writing to you when I ought to be preparing for the banquet downstairs; here he has drawn my bath and set out my robes (not the ones my Lady Mother sent, I am pleased to report; I garner far too much attention when I wear them) and as I write he is unbraiding my hair – it is full of dust and twigs; I was out upon the northern hills today for we are considering clearing one of the meadows and tending to the many stands of herbs that grow wild there, in order to cultivate them – it is very difficult to write when one's head is being wrenched from side to side – see, I have just blotted the paper – I must go, my Bandobras; write to me quickly and let me know how goes your uncle and his Diamond, and the work upon Long Bank.  How I miss you!

Your Master,

Legolas

Bandobras Took, Crickhollow, Tuckborough,

To Legolas Thranduilion, My Wise Master (no matter what he says), Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien

Dear Master,

Well, it was no good telling me to not disturb the house with my rejoicing – disturb it I did, and but good!  Think I broke a floor joist with all my jumping, I really did, though unless I get down under the house I'll never know for sure, and frankly I'm not sure I WANT to know, Master, for what no one knows is not likely to hurt me none, especially in the sit-me-down region, if you catch what I'm saying.  Goodness gracious me, you'd think my backside had a target on it sometimes, with all the whacks I get!  But anyway I got all my happiness out of the way afore Mother and Uncle Pip came in, though they heard me hollering and thought maybe I'd gone and burned something in the kitchen, so they came a-running in and O Master the looks on their faces when they seen me hopping about!  Then they read the letter too and they were both so happy, Master; I can't tell you what a relief it is to us all, that you're stepping back like and seeing how things'll work out.   Cousin Merry's mighty pleased too, and he and Uncle Pip are now saying how they'll wait on going down to Gondor 'til spring next, which is fine for Uncle Pip and Cousin Merry and Diamond and Estella and the babies, but not so good for Mother and me; what shall we do, without them to travel with?  I'd travel alone if it weren't for Mother.  What I ought to do is to go down to Bree and ask round the Inn there if we could join some group of travelers.  It'd be lots safer, and I'd be more careful which Dwarves I went with, I can tell you!  Or perhaps King Elessar's got some sort of delegation coming up this way to Lake Evendim, that we could go with; would you check into that, Master?  For I promised you I'd come this spring, wedding or no, and I mean to do just that; I've nowise achieved my majority but I'm not a Took for nothing, and I've put my foot down on this point and Mother recognizes it's no good arguing.  It's been a terrible long time since we've seen each other and I don't mind telling you I've fair had it, it's awful nice getting your letters and all but it don't match up to actually being WITH you, and as Mother says she don't mind coming along (got a fair bit of Took in her, you know!) and wants to see Rivendell and Eryn Lasgalen and the River and all, this will be ever so good an opportunity for her to do a bit of traveling, which she was never able to do before as she got married awful young to my Dad and then had me and couldn't go nowhere nohow; now I'm nearly grown and been so many places already she figures we might as well start now as later, for when Uncle Pip marries, Diamond will be moving into our house in Crickhollow and if you think it's a dodgy thing having to share a kitchen betwixt two Hobbits just you wait 'til there's three in there, and two of them females besides.  Quite frankly I don't want to think on it, so I'll just ease Mother out of there, and stay with you a while to see how she likes it; we were planning on my going back to you for good once I reach thirty-three anyway, so if I can convince her to stay it won't be so hard on her, seeing as I'm her only child.  And then when she does decide to go back to the Shire most likely the roads'll be even safer than before the stronger the King gets, and travel will be easier, and she can bunk up with Aunt Vinca if she likes, they get on real well.  What do you think, Master?  Do you think that would work?  You keep on about how much you want me there, but would you mind if Mother stayed too?  Gimli says you ought to let Mother be the Lady of Dol Galenehtar.  Wouldn't that be a treat!  Though I guess since you're actually going to marry Laustairë anyway that mightn't be such a good plan.  Perhaps you can give her another honorary title.  What do you call mothers of esquires anyway?  And O Master what you said about wanting to take me to Valinor instead of Laustairë, well, you know none but Elves are allowed to do that, and frankly if all's said and done you're right about your being immortal and me mortal and the difference is, if I'm going to die I'd much rather do it in Middle Earth (Dol Galenehtar by preference), and you know I'm going to do it anyway so we might as well settle how it's going to happen, but thank you anyway, Master, just knowing you feel so strong about me makes me feel better too, for there's nowhere else I'd rather live than Ithilien, and no one else's side I'd rather die beside than yours.  And now I'd best stop writing this for I'm getting all teary-eyed and if Mother catches me like this she'll think you've been causing trouble and that'll put her back up but good.

Well, that was a shocker and no mistake about Kaimelas and Seimiel, Master!  I fair sat with my mouth hanging open when I read that about them; I truly had no idea, Master, that Kaimelas had any thought of courting, much less courting Seimiel, but the more I think on it the more I quite see your point; they are quite suited I think, for Seimiel's got such snap and vinegar to her, and Kaimelas is more sweet but in a sly-like way so that there'll be no getting round him (as well you know).  There's them as wouldn't want a wife as bold as Seimiel but I reckon Kaimelas is the chap for her, being so brave and all.  You tell them for me I send them my congratulations, and I surely hope I might get to see their wedding too; what a load of them there's been lately!  At least you and Laustairë will be able to watch Kaimelas and Seimiel and see if what they do with their wedding ceremony is what you two like; Diamond has five sisters all wed, and she told me the other day she was so glad she could watch and learn from their mistakes, in particular the eating of a good proper breakfast aforehand, for her sister Opal didn't eat no breakfast on account of being so nervous about marrying of Biffin Bolger (I'd of been nervous too, he's mortal difficult to get on with) and fainting dead away in the midst of the ceremony, and with five hundred guests watching her! Got grass stains all over the backside of her pretty wedding dress which never did come out, which was a pity as the next girl what got married – Ruby I think it was – couldn't wear the dress over again and a new one had to be made, and it cost a pretty bit of money I can tell you.

You ought really to take better care of your hair, Master; I'm with Kaimelas all the way in this, though he oughtn't to've wrenched you about like that; what were you doing anyway, crawling through the shrubs looking for basil plants?  I've never seen a body as keen as you for getting dirty, Master, and considering the kinds of lads I foregather with that's saying quite a bit.  You're forever climbing and crawling and running and riding and rooting about – are you sure Elves and squirrels aren't related?  At least you clean up well; Holbard always looks as though he's been drug through a hayrick backward even when he's fresh from the tub.  Which robe did Kaimelas set out for you?  The silver one?  That one's my favorite I think, so simple and clean-like; no frippery or embroidery or any other such stuff; there's no sense in dressing you up like a doll, now, is there?  And one thing I've been awful worried about, Master; will Kaimelas think I'm setting him aside when I come to you?  For as your esquire you know I'm supposed to do the valeting too; will he mind much, do you think?  Or will he have his hands so full of Seimiel he won't notice?

I guess you handled Laustairë pretty well, if what you say is true, that she's getting all het-up about the Tournament and running about getting things ready.  That'll be a right treat for her, won't it, Master?  For you did tell me they don't do jousts or tourneys in Mithlond so she's never seen one before; they're awful exciting, aren't they!  How I wish I could be with you, Master, not to sit in the royal box and watch, but to be down at the tilt with Gimli holding your lances!  What fun that was!  Barring of course all those times you got hurt or other knights got hurt or the caltrops or the exploding lance.  That wasn't so fun, was it, Master?  But it worked out all right in the end, not for poor Herion of course, but like you said to me long ago there's no transition of power without a great many casualties, and I guess we can chalk poor Herion up to one of the casualties.  His horse too, and Hatchet, and – oh, so many men, Master; what a pity it is it's so hard to establish kingdoms and fiefdoms and such!  I wish there was some special formula you could follow that would make all the people happy and prosperous and all the neighbors love you and accept your rule.  But that's not the way the world works, is it, Master?  Pity, it'd be so much easier that way, and save you and Lord Faramir and King Elessar no end of trouble.

Anyway I'd better go; Long Bank's gone well, we're almost done with the smials and it's a good thing too as it's dead autumn and starting to get awful cold.  We've had hard frost several times already – Grandfather says it's going to be a snorter of a winter, so we're all bracing ourselves like, laying in supplies of food and wood and making sure everyone's barns and houses are snug.  I wish you were here too, Master – how lovely it would be to sit by the hearth with you again!  We could watch the flames crackle in the wood and make toast with our tea, and I've invented the most bully receipt for apple fool – melts in your mouth, it does, though Mother fusses at me it takes so much butter and sugar to make.  Uncle Pip's awful fond of it though and told me I'll have go give the receipt to Diamond afore they wed.

Good luck with Laustairë!  I'm looking forward to meeting her.  And think of me, won't you, during the joust, Master?  Try to imagine I'm standing beside Gimli at the tilt helping hold your things, for truly that's where I'd much rather be than here!

Your Esquire,

Bandobras

Legolas Thranduilion, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Called Recently "Legolas the Cunning" by Orodreth of Linhir (who conceded rather more ground to me than he had planned, much to Araval's delight),

To Bandobras son of Reginard Took, Most Loyal and Inestimably Superior Friend, My Esquire Even in His Youth, Devoted Son and Exceptional Cook

My Dear Bandobras,

What a delight it is to receive your letters, O my dear Little One, now that they are filled with words of comfort and not reprimand!  Well do I accept your wisdom, my Bandobras; it guided me when I most needed it, and now you are satisfied, well then, I am too.  Please do you take better care of your Uncle's house however!  Remember that he is to be bringing his bride there, and it will do their marriage some small harm to have the floor collapse beneath their feet in a year's time.  Perhaps you might forewarn your Uncle ere he begins his rule in Crickhollow; it would do him good I think to examine the crawlspace, remembering the many pranks and jokes he played upon us during our journeys together, the incident concerning the moss in Mithrandir's pipe-weed in particular – if he has not relayed this tale to you it would behoove you to ask for it; let me say only that you and your wine-barrel put me in mind of Peregrin Took.

Things go well here; the autumn has so far escaped the sharp warning sting of winter, and the days have been clement, boding well for the upcoming Tournament.  The olive harvest was spectacular, my Bandobras – we were constrained to pickle rather more olives than usual, for the oil-vats were overflowing and we ran out of amphoras, and were obliged to seal it in jars as well.  Now we have a great stockpiling of the stuff, and I have just concluded a rather lucrative pact with Linhir to sell them through our own merchants and not Gondor's; at first one might think this robs the kingly hand that protects us but through docking fees and tithe King Elessar shall receive his share.  Lord Araval is visiting me now, my Little One, and when I related the conversation round the conference table to him he laughed long and loud, his great belly – it has grown no less over the years, and his sedentary habits encourage this – jiggling like aspic.  He is so jolly, is he not, my Bandobras?  It is a treat simply to have him in my court; he produces levity with nearly as much alacrity as does Galás.  And that is yet another aspect of yours, Little One, for which I pine; you are always so cheerful, lifting the spirits of those who surround you; I have missed that much this past year.  Araval is amusing and Galás quite clever, but there is naught but Hobbit-humor that reaches into my blackest mood to return me to the light of the sun.

All my work and frantic activity is paying off – our borders are secure, our storehouses full, our neighbors satisfied and our lands at peace.  I am hoping that the following years shall be those of rest and tranquility, not only for my own people but for me as well; I have been far too busy, and betimes I gaze out the window of my study, as I am seated at my desk involved in the litter of papers that seem to breed there, and gaze out over the mountain slopes and sigh; how pleasant it would be, Little One, to simply arise from my work, descend the stairs to the stables, mount my Piukka and ride into the forest not to return for a month at least!  To be sure my life has so far been filled with battle and conflict, siege and assault, but still there were times I could simply dwell at peace with my companions for a time, thinking of nothing but our next meal, and the pleasure we had in our company.  Remember, my Bandobras, how enjoyable it was when it was only you and Gimli and me, traveling down the Anduin to the first Grand Tournament?  We were in no especial hurry; the lands were peaceful, the food plentiful, our work satisfying; do you realize, Little One, that was the last time I felt so at ease?  Nine years has it been since I felt tranquil enough to laugh and sing and play as we did then; I have been so caught up in the establishment of my fiefdom I have not had the time to rest.  But I can espy the light ahead – my dark days of frustration and worry are drawing to a close; soon, next year I hope, shall we be fully settled and things may begin to fall into more pleasant patterns – banquet and dance, feast and festival shall be marked solely by the desire to celebrate, not be surrounded and sullied by trade agreements, delegations, formal receptions and political ramifications.  Will that not be most agreeable, Little One? 

It also appears my betrothed feels the same; she is most enthused concerning the pageantry of the Tournament, and Hirilcúllas did inform me not three days hence she had expressed interest in seeing to Imrahil's reception this winter.  Hirilcúllas affirms what others have said to me, that Laustairë has grown quieter yet more determined to find her place within my court; that I find comforting, and reassuring as well; I had thought my future with her was tremulous at best, but this is a promising sign, that she is so willing to accept rebuke and instruction.  I am still not happy, but I am less unhappy than I was previously, and that is better than nothing.

My Lady Mother shall be here in the spring as well; she is disappointed, she said in her last missive, that the wedding was delayed but understands well why I have done so; she also it appears has heard the rumors of my betrothed's inexperience (through Dúrfinwen no doubt) and expressed to me her concerns that perhaps she erred in forcing the issue prematurely; neither she nor my Lord Father want for me to be wed to one who is no good match for me.  Also she was most chagrined by Seimiel and Kaimelas' leap into the matrimonial foray; Seimiel was one of her best-beloved ladies' maids and she as you did harbored secret hope our love for each other would grow from that found between siblings to something deeper.  Also did I sense, written subtly in her words, discontent that my opinion of Laustairë is bereft of tender feeling.  Shall I apologize for that, my Bandobras?  In truth I cannot compel my heart to that state, nor do I think Laustairë would wish for me to so do; rather shall I allow myself to fall slowly in full control of my reason, for then shall it be made the deeper and more profound, and more lasting as well.  I hope that in fifty years' time I shall gaze at her with tender regard, looking forward to our journey together to Valinor; that I cannot presently oblige myself to do so is not indicative of any lack of regard on my part, but simply an honest assessment of my heart, and that I admit has been long in coming! 

King Elessar, when I relayed the difficulties you foresaw in your travel arrangements, did promise me a delegation shall be sent to fetch you in early spring, so that you and your dear mother may come to me in full safety and security and comfort.  I would not have you cast about in Bree for traveling companions, my dear Little One; it would be most unseemly for your mother to travel so; a lady of her age and bearing requires attendants and indulgences to ease the journey, which as you may recall is very long and arduous; I would not have ill befall her for all the ships sailing the Sea.  So wait you upon Elessar's men, my Bandobras, and they shall escort you in full pomp and luxury.

Certainly would I rather bring you to Valinor than to have you die upon the shores of Middle Earth, but it is comforting for me to know you would rather end your brief life here with me than in any other part of Arda.  How loyal are the Shire-folk!  Blessed greatly am I to have been so fortunate, that I have friends among the Halflings of the North; my life would be bereft of richness had I never met you!  For surely the greatest person I have ever met – and I include a good many Elven lords and mighty men – was Frodo Baggins of Bag End, who willingly did give his life and soul and the comforts of his home for the good of all, desiring neither recompense nor recognition.  Remember him, O my dear Little One, and seek to emulate his compassion and selflessness; his was a spirit all should desire to imitate, and were we all but a tenth the part of his heart Middle Earth should be better than Valinor.

Well, I had best go; for a wonder neither Hirilcúllas nor Galás are at my elbow pressing me for signatures or my presence at meetings; however Piukka has grown lazy, and if I am to win accolades for my lady during the Tournament he had best be taken to task for his indolence.  And as Laustairë haunts the stables or the library these days perchance I shall meet with her too; I would dearly love to spend the more time with her, so that we shall get to know each other better; if none interrupt us we might even ride out into the forest for a while so we can talk.  I may not be in love with my lady, O Bandobras, but that does not mean I do not desire her company; she is lovely, as I have said, and possesses charming manners and a quick tongue; that is entertaining in itself, and worthy of exploring further.

Write to me and soon, my dear Little One!  How I long for Spring, that you might be with me!

Your Master,

Legolas

Nardanë Daughter of Parímoëar, of Lindon

To Kalamiril Daughter of Menelúin of Mithlond, my Beloved Friend,

O Kalamiril, I apologize to you deeply for my last missive – how hopeful I was, how happy and content! – so has Laustairë managed to befoul the air hereabouts I am turned on my head, and know not which way points the sky, and all the good news I had related to you is turned to naught, and things are worse than they were before.

Did I say unto you, my dearly loved friend, that the skirmish betwixt Lord Legolas and our Laustairë had precipitated a change in the child?  That she had grown quieter yet wiser, less apt to fulsome speech and more interested in the doings of this kingdom?  That so desirous was she of maintaining his good graces she did throw herself into the work prescribed her?  O but I erred by speaking of this far too quickly!  She was but biding her time 'til all had assumed she had in meekness acquiesced to her betrothed, and now – O you shall see what she has done!

I have related to you, O my friend, the preparations for the small Tournament that was to be played out in Osgiliath, at which Lord Legolas and sundry others were to test themselves at trials of arms in grand pageantry, to be followed by a sumptuous feast; also did I tell you, Kalamiril, that Laustairë after her confrontation with her beloved (this was following as I told you the discovery of the notes betwixt Seimiel and Dúrfinwen concerning Laustairë's perfidy) did take especial interest in the planning of the upcoming functions, being sure she understood precisely the order of ceremony, and the seating of dignitaries, and the differing points of rank between the several lords and ladies, and the small aspects of protocol and propriety used hereabouts that none might feel slighted.  To my joy she foregathered with Hwindiö and Dúrfinwen and Kaimelas concerning the decorations and lighting, the ordering of the victuals and the construction of the ovens and spits, the assembly of the awnings over the royal box in the stadium and the placement of the chairs in classification of rank, being careful to set all in proper seating according to status, O all these things, Kalamiril; when I spoke to Legolas several days before the Tournament he seemed most pleased, saying to me he had heard great things of his betrothed's proficiency and aptitude for such functions, and that she when her interest had been piqued so blossomed beneath the load she seemed to him nearly equipped to be his bride and he was considering raising the moratorium on the wedding – when I think of it, Kalamiril, how happy he was, how hopeful, how reassured! – it breaks my heart truly, when I remember the look upon his face as he realized she had deliberately dishonored him before the entire assembly; I believe at that moment he and I felt the same emotions – shame and mortification, anger and indignation at her infantile, niggling, and hurtful actions.

It happened thus, my friend:  I shall not bore you with a breakdown of the seating arrangements, but understand that as the betrothed of the Lord of Dol Galenehtar she had been accorded a fine seat in the royal box of the stadium to watch the joust, and also, as Legolas was to joust himself her position of prominence was especially noted.  King Elessar and Queen Undómiel were there, and Lord Faramir and Lady Éowyn, as well as sundry other members of the nobility hereabouts and visiting worthies; I was seated far to the rear, as I am but a ladies' maid; still, as I sat betwixt Lady Dirhael and Telemnar I felt I had been apportioned quite a fair seat, for I could see the entire quadrangle from where I sat, and after studying the details of the joust I was eager to see it performed.  All came and found their seats, dressed in their finery (and I ought now to inform you that none matched Queen Undómiel for her splendor; she is not called Lúthien's heir for naught) and the entire assembly watched with great interest; the folk hereabout do take great pleasure in the spectacle their lords and ladies make, perhaps due to the dearth of kingship when the Stewards ruled; at any rate all eyes were upon the royal box, marking who entered and where they sat, so that when the hour approached for the parade of combatants I began to feel uneasy, for Laustairë was conspicuous in her absence.  We waited, her chair remaining prominently empty in its public locale, until Lord Faramir with a backward glance to me (I blushed deeply I admit on her behalf, though at the time I ascribed her absence simply to her overindulgence before the mirror) rose to begin the procession, and the warriors upon their destriers filed into the stadium.

It should have stirred my heart, Kalamiril, to see such display; the mighty war-horses in their trappers and caparisons, the knights in their bright armor, the colorful pennants and escutcheons and surcoats, the surge and swell of the cries of the crowd as favorites passed and banners were waved – yet my heart sank within me, and a chill passed over me that had naught to do with the crisp clear air:  Where was Laustairë?  Surely she would not miss this spectacle, this opportunity to so display her future rank and her marvelous vestments in public!  Why she had prepared her gown so carefully and thoughtfully, being sure everything was in its place – yet she was not, and for what reason?  At last with sinking heart I saw Legolas approach the royal box; he was clad most gloriously in armor of splendid make, verdigrised and marked with runes, all in the concept of the dragon (remember he lived near Dale), his splendid destrier clanking and clattering in its cruppers and crinet, its good-natured face (Piukka is a dear animal) obscured by a ferocious-looking shaffron fashioned to resemble a dragon as well; his oak-branch charge fluttering from a gold-tipped lance (now do I know for certain what Cirien meant, when he spoke of the tips of the towers piercing the forest canopy like coronels, it is a grand sight); how the crowd roared when he passed; what a favorite he is, this champion of the poor, friend of the downtrodden, protector of the meek, nurturer of the suffering!  He approached the royal box to make obeisance, and lifted his visor, his eyes eagerly seeking the face of his beloved – but – she was not there!  How his face fell; how deeply did this cut him; then the steel descended before his gray eyes, and his mouth compressed into a thin hard line; he gave his perfunctory bow and continued on to the lists.  He knew, my friend, what the slight meant:  In public, before the assembly, that was insulting enough, that she should deliberately absent herself from so grand an assembly, feigning indifference to the neighboring kingdoms and to his own royal person; in private, betwixt those two, that his triumph should be marred by her coldness and spite, that she thought so little of him she would rather be reading in her rooms (as it turns out that was indeed the case) than to watch him display his talents before her.  Kalamiril, I have read the rules of etiquette hereabouts; when a knight in tourney approaches the box where his lady is seated, she gives to him a token which he affixes to part of his person (popular convention suggests the elbow) and with this token he wins for his lady honor and accolades, which he returns to her at the end of the tournament.  Now Kalamiril, all in the assembly, from the King to the least peasant, being cognizant of Prince Legolas' betrothed state, did expect and hope to see this pageant unfold; that Laustairë made herself absent was not only a slight to the populace but to Legolas himself, that his lady thought so little of his honor she would not bother to bestir herself enough to attend. 

Do you see, Kalamiril?  Do you see what this thoughtless child has done?  She has mortified a member of the Sindar royalty, a lord of Ithilien, and a mighty warrior, all through her sullen desire for revenge upon his gentle remonstrance, and recompense for her mortification!  What did I do wrong?  How did I come to this?  O you ought to have heard the muttering in the box, Kalamiril, the sidelong glances and frowns; Lady Éowyn herself turned to me, her pale eyes coldly searching; I blushed, face downcast, for in truth I could not face them.  Hardly did I have heart for the joust, which was a shame, my friend, for a more stunning pastime I could not have conceived; the thunder of hooves, the churn of dust, the crash of contact! How I wish you could have been there, how you would have cheered and clapped with the rest!  And O Kalamiril, had Laustairë only unbent her pride enough to come, how swiftly would she have capitulated, for indeed what maid could resist admiring a knight so swift to the tilt, so keen to the mark, so poised upon the horse?  I need not tell you he trounced his competitors truly, though he had no token upon his arm; that he rode untenanted back to his retainers with naught but his pennant was yet an additional arrow in my heart.

There was a goodly bit of grumbling when the assembly dispersed; King Elessar took me aside, his kind eyes worried, to ask if aught had happened to "my friend's betrothed," but I was forced to admit ignorance; the keen look of sympathy there nearly undid me and it took all my strength to hold back tears of anger and frustration.  But I held my head high, Kalamiril, remembering the lord to whom I swore fealty in ages past; I refuse to let this foolish child unseat me at this stage of my life! 

We assembled for the feast in Osgiliath in the central square, which had been strewn with rushes, canopied with tapestry and lit with lanterns; there were row upon row of trestle tables set, including the high seats and the dais, whereupon I was seated (though in a place of lower rank, as was fitting me; indeed at that point I am surprised I merited such favor), and the knights entered in their splendid robes and doublets and tunics to the delight of the assembly, which cheered and applauded them, especially Legolas, who in his white bejeweled doublet flashed like lightning and quite bedazzled me; he sat, his face blanched and set, beside his friend Gimli Lord of Aglarond, whose customarily affable face resembled a thundercloud; still Laustairë's seat was vacant, until near time for the bell to ring, when she strode into the square, chin high and eyes coolly disinterested!  I am surprised, my friend, that in the ensuing silence there were no hisses; she sat demurely enough beside her betrothed, eyes upon her plate, but her back in its stiffness denoted arrogance of heart and Legolas did not unbend to her enough to even acknowledge her.  Lord Faramir, being the host, and a wise man, took in the tenor of the gathering and gave the blessing unto the West and we began, but there were many sidelong glances and murmured slurs against our Laustairë, calculated for her ears I am certain, for as the meal progressed she became the more surly and discontent, and I saw to my dismay she but picked at the food upon her trencher, disdaining the dainties in her anger.  At last the trenchers were gathered and distributed to the dogs, and the musicians began to play, many circles and lines formed upon the rushes and the mood lightened.  Legolas turned at that point, and I admired him for doing this; it was a great concession on his part; he said to Laustairë:  "Will you dance?" and held out his hand, no doubt intending to question her in private concerning her actions and sparing her public reprimand.  But the censure of the assembly had hardened her and she stubbornly refused, her face truculent; he blanched then, and would surely have censured her, but I rose swiftly and approached saying (I am sure I know not whence this phrase was born) "But surely shall I dance with you, my lord!" and placed my hand in his.  They both stared at me, and their neighbors also, but recognizing my attempt to normalize this debacle he nodded, and led me out onto the rushes.

Now, O Kalamiril, at this point I had naught in mind save to draw public eye from his mortification, so my tongue was numb and I could not speak; yet he drew me into his arms for the circling round and fixing me with his clear gaze said coldly:  "Well!  I should have to admit to myself that did not work the way we had planned.  This to my mind is quite a large step backward, do you not think so?"

"I am sorry, my lord," I apologized humbly, my eyes downcast.  "I have never seen her act so."  (You know, Kalamiril, this was a lie; he knew it as well, for few can hide their perfidy from him.)  "Please think no less of her, or at least of me; I know not where I have erred; I have tried again and again to show her the way she must go and I have failed every time."

"Blame not yourself, my lady," he said to me, his voice and eyes gentling.  "Were result measured in effort we should both be successful in our several ventures.  This is none of your doing."

This so lightened my mood I smiled, but when I looked up into his face I saw the pain and unease there, and my heart sank.  We danced together in silence for a while, and after a time I saw him smile to himself; I asked, "What are you thinking of, my lord?"

"O I am thinking of something my esquire wrote to me in his last letter," said Legolas, his eyes growing warm for the first time during the feast; "he did say to me he wished me to think of him during the joust and afterwards, as he must needs be absent yet desired greatly to be with me."

Now I have heard tales of his esquire, the perian of the Shire; that he would speak so fondly of him seemed to me to be a good thing and I said soothingly:  "Well he will be here soon enough for the wedding."

His face fell at this and he said to me, "What wedding? Shall there be one even now she has disgraced me before all Dol Galenehtar, Osgiliath, and most of Minas Tirith?  You must think me mild indeed to accede at this stage."  And his eyes, Kalamiril!  How they burned with angry fire!  It was all I could do to withstand his ire.  Well do I understand now why folk say he resembles his mother in face but his father in temperament!  But I remembered my lord's command and said,

"O be not so distraught, my lord; but remember she is very young."

"She is," he agreed dryly, "so perhaps I ought rather to adopt her as a daughter than take her as my wife.  Would that please you then, Nardanë?"  And I could not speak, for my tongue clove to the roof of my mouth and I was struck dumb.  We danced in silence for a time, each with our respective grim thoughts; when the song wound down he escorted me back to the dais and politely released me.  After that I lost track of where he went; I saw him dance with Lady Éowyn (being especially careful of her in her current fragile state), and with Queen Undómiel, and Lady Dirhael, and Lady Éodild (whom I thought would chatter his very ears off), and sundry others; but he did not dance with Laustairë; indeed none did; I found later that it is tradition hereabouts that none may ask a betrothed woman for a dance lest she accept first a dance with her fiancée.  It is difficult to feel sorry for Laustairë at this stage, Kalamiril, even when I recall how she glowered and sulked at her place, eventually fading away to go to her rooms.  How we shouted and argued, my friend!  How I heartily wished you were here, that some sense might be driven into her!  She is so stubborn, Kalamiril, and so inflexible; she has inflicted such damage to her relations with her betrothed I am not sure I shall be able to repair them.  What shall I do?  O that it would not take so long to get my reply from you – that you were here with us to advise me!  But then were you here perhaps this might not have occurred at all; you are so much better with Laustairë than I, especially when she gets into these sulky fits of hers.  I become angry and short-tempered and irrational and that only serves to prolong them.

At any rate I am not sure if the wedding shall be called off or no; Dúrfinwen approached me the morning after the Tournament saying the only method of preserving their union was an apology – private if necessary but public would be preferable – but how shall I constrain this stubborn, thick-headed girl to apologize for this affront?  Still she feels herself justified by her actions!  Rather should I take me down to the Anduin and bid it run from south to north!  I should have better luck with the river than Laustairë.

Write me when you can, my Kalamiril; autumn is rapidly waning and our duties are slacking, which several months ago would have been a good thing as it would have allowed Legolas and Laustairë to foregather more comfortably; but now we shall have hours of idleness and thick furrows of restraint betwixt them.  O that I were in Mithlond!

Your friend,

Nardanë

Gimli Son of Glóin, Lord of Aglarond, Of the Nine Walkers, Elf-Friend,

To Bandobras Took Son of Reginard, Esquire of the Green Knight,

Greetings.

Bandy, you have not the smallest notion of the conundrums visited upon Dol Galenehtar – upon Osgiliath, Ithilien, yea, even to Minas Tirith – by this aggravating, this narrow-minded, this maddeningly selfish slip of an Elf-child that has been forced upon your Master!  You shall be glad of this at least – the wedding is off – not delayed but canceled – he has finally had his eyes opened, and is cognizant of her true nature – this petty, small-minded, mean-spirited, arrogant thing!  To call her a "lady" is far too gentle – to call her a "woman" insults all females full-grown – even to call her an Elf seems to stretch the imagination too far – O Bandy, I am so far gone in wrath it is a wonder I do not march down to her rooms forthwith and spank her!  'Twould serve her right, the minx, for upsetting Legolas so.  And lest you attribute my anger to my race (I admit I as a Dwarf am rather short-tempered; this is naught compared to my grandsire – you ought to have seen him when he was in his cups; all feared him and gave him wide berth) let me tell you the whole demesne simmers with it.  This maid has made things so hot for herself here she cannot even go in to dine; she takes her meals in her rooms with no one save her maid Nardanë; even that one is vexed to the utmost and mutters and grumbles as she walks the hallways.  Your Master – because he is your Master and one of the most gracious persons I have yet met – has forbidden his people to speak ill of her, or to reprove her; he did say to Seimiel and Dúrfinwen that the censure of the public was punishment enough (I disagree with him there; she needs a good strapping and I'm the Dwarf to administer it; it would be about time someone took her to task for the things she's done and I'll wager she's never been whipped in her life) and as she and her maid are constrained to remain here until the end of the bad weather we must needs treat her with civility.  Spring, Bandy!  Legolas must suffer her appalling company until Spring!  O I am so furious I can barely write!  Curses upon this late Autumn storm, that has blown down from the north and alternately drowns us in ice or buries us in drifts!  I cannot even return to Aglarond, for the storms continue to harass us so that the passage is closed; only the King's patrols and the post dare travel in such weather, for they have stops along the way, whereby they might procure fresh horses.  I fear you shall not receive this letter until midwinter, so foul has the weather been hereabouts; it is doubly vexing for me, for I must remain here in Dol Galenehtar neglecting my own demesne, as well as endure the presence of this aggravating infant.  And the Anduin is sluggish with floes, Bandy, so we cannot even send her to Dol Amroth – not that I would wish this infuriating child on Imrahil, I like him well enough – but at least it would get her out of Dol Galenehtar, so that Legolas need never look upon her face again.

It happened thus, Bandy:  The tournament was set for late autumn (indeed not a week has passed; this inclement weather surprised us all; have you been getting your fair share of snow too?) and Laustairë had been heavily involved in its planning, particularly to the arrangement of seating and order of protocol, so that none can accuse her of ignorance – I am sure instead it was just that gave her the idea – you know he was to receive her token and become her champion; it is customary, and all expected it – yet she deliberately absented herself, Bandy – did you read that properly?  If not I shall write it again with full warning:  SHE DELIBERATELY ABSENTED HERSELF.  Do you comprehend the full meaning of that?  Knowing well her presence was expected by the assembled peasantry, gentry, nobility and royalty; knowing her betrothed was required to take from her a token; knowing all present would eagerly await her appearance to take especial note of her clothing and bearing (two things Fríma did tell me occupy the majority of her thinking anyway); and worse, Bandy, knowing full well Legolas not only did expect her to be there but actually awaited her eagerly, laughing and singing as he donned his armor – O Bandy, the hurt and anger and disappointment and chagrin on his face when he turned from the royal box!  Even from so great a distance (I stood by the tilt), even with his face half-obscured by his frogmouth, even with his body hidden beneath his armor, I saw his shoulders slump, his face fall, his eyes dim – how angry I was!  I do confess to you I swore, Bandy; I swore long and loud and sulfurously --  fortunately in Dwarvish for beside me stood diverse esquires and servants of the other combatants and they are quite young, too young for such language, as are you, Bandy, so do you not think that because I confess to such a thing it automatically confers upon you the privilege – and when your Master returned to me his face was very white and set, his lips pressed into a thin line; he spoke not to me nor made any other sign he had been so insulted, but instead took out his wrath upon his unfortunate competitors, so trampling them beneath Piukka's hooves some of them had to be prised out of their armor afterwards.  How his coronel smote, how his lance splintered, how his armor flashed!  He was like unto the wrath of Oromë charging down the tilt, and all knights ceded to him his prize – which, because his idiot betrothed had so scorned and affronted him he had to keep for himself – and when I aided him out of his armor he spoke not to me then either, but stood still and stiff; however when I had finally removed his cuirass and fauld he sat upon the cot within the tent and put his face in his hands, and he sat so unmoving for some time.

I attempted to reason with him then, pointing out to him the inadvisability of continuing this charade, but he would not hear me; still he determined to do the right thing by the girl, and not put her aside in public disgrace, despite her insult; so Kaimelas (who was angrier than I have ever seen him; indeed I have never seen him angry at all, which made it all the more unnerving) and I did assist your Master into his proper clothing for the banquet – yes, Bandy, I shall tell you what he wore; 'twas the white doublet you purchased for him in Dale; are you satisfied now? – and we did go unto the Square, which was laid with rushes and set with trestles and food – I would describe the food to you but I am too angry – and amid accolades he did sit beside me and put forward a benign face, for it would never do to have him show unto the assembly how much his betrothed had injured him.  And when she entered, Bandy!  Never have I seen so arrogant, so satisfied a face upon a woman!  She knew what she had done, Bandy; she knew she had cut him and was pleased – nay, not merely pleased; she gloated, Bandy – I tell you it was all I could do to keep myself leaping up and throttling her.  Beside that she did glance upon me and I saw in her eyes her triumph – she slighted not only Legolas but his friends also – I heard Galás seated behind me hiss to himself – have you ever seen an assemblage full of silent fury, Bandy?  I have before, so I knew it, and I felt it again, and it was I deem the most uncomfortable I have yet been whether in battle or in peace.  Still your Master played his part, though, Bandy – you should have been so proud of him, he was so gentle and dignified – after the meal (at which I tell you Laustairë ate nothing, being full cognizant of the opinion of the crowd) he asked his betrothed to dance, a grand concession all thought, for he was within his rights to dismiss her forthwith; she churlishly did refuse him though, and I saw in the depths of his eyes the flicker of dangerous fire – yet that nurse-maid of hers saw it too, and in dissembling guise accepted her lady's dance in her stead; I know not what they said to each other in the course of the round but I studied their faces, and I saw within your Master's grim resolve, and in Nardanë's, chagrin and fear.  Needless to say Laustairë did not stay long at the dance!  As she had refused her betrothed no other man dared ask (though I doubt any would, after her disgusting display of pique) so after some time she did discretely melt away to her chambers – the first discrete action I have yet noted in her!  -- and your Master was left to eat his heart out in peace.

The uproar here has been unbearable, and its repercussions far-ranging; needless to say a courier went directly to Mithlond the following morning, and another to Mirkwood, announcing the dissolution of the betrothal; Lord Cirien when I queried him upon the state of the treaty did inform me its contract made no mention of the union (your Master had insisted upon that – wise Elf, at least in that regard!) so you need fear no ill befall his coffers as a result of this calamity!  At least Legolas has many of his friends here, trapped by winter winds and weather after the tournament:  Araval, Hador, Hallas, Cirien, Malbeth, Mardil, Aldamir – and me of course, with Fríma and Ónin, and his own folk (though to my mind their wrath though the greater is also the colder; it is on their account Laustairë shows not her face), and though it is difficult to travel to and fro to Osgiliath there is still much traffic; the great horses of Dale excel in the trampling of snow and the pulling of sleds, and there is congress betwixt the two fiefdoms; we even have Fastred and Hísimë here, ostensibly for their mother Lady Éowyn is close to her time, but Faramir did say to me when he left them in the nursery that he felt Legolas would recover from his heartbreak faster, were the little ones about.  Fastred at least keeps your Master well-occupied, for as his father he has within him the strength of leadership and so guides the visiting children in feats of depredation you should swell with pride to think your legacy continues in him.  Hísimë is a dear little thing, Bandy; I cannot wait for you to meet her; it is rare indeed for me to admit to loving a child but this one fair demands it of you.  At any rate your Master is well-protected from brooding and much reflection, for his house is full nearly to bursting and there is talk, should the storms continue, of having the Winter Festival here again this year, for the halls and rooms and passageways and towers I had constructed for Dol Galenehtar are snug and spacious and there is far more room than in Osgiliath for folk to reside here in comfort – let the Elves have their talans; we wiser folk shall dwell inside stout stone walls! – how you would love the vaulted ceilings casting shadows in curves and circles from the inglenooks; the light reflecting off marble and glass and polished stone; fountains frozen in mid-leap looking like giant birthday-cakes; shuttered windows closing out the whistle and shriek of the wind; mellow rooms and halls full of folk singing and laughing and eating and drinking – ah yes, Bandy, this is what Legolas and his folk have labored to accomplish; almost like unto Rivendell it seems to me at times, peaceful yet burgeoning with activity; it is a shame he has reached his goal to have his dreams of wife and family turned upon their heads.  Well, it is for that reason I am all the gladder Aldamir and his family are here – and Fastred and Hísimë, and Hador's boy, and Hallas' brood (how many of them there are!).    He is near hip-deep in children, Bandy, but through his delight in their company I see the longing in his eyes for you.  A pity you cannot come 'til Spring!  That I could impel the wicked weather to relent and send down upon the earth warming rains; I should ride me unto Crickhollow myself and fetch you early for your Master's comfort!  I do what I can for him, Bandy, but I am so angry – I hope that my anger shall fade with time and I shall be better equipped to console him.

Well there you are; you have the tale.  Whether you receive this letter ere the trees bud is beyond my ken, but I have written it, and must be satisfied.  How I hate to admit this, but I do keenly wish you were here, Bandy!  It would do your Master good to have your bright face about his house.

Write me when you are able, and pray to the Valar the post is prompt!

Your friend,

Gimli

Legolas Thranduilion of Dol Galenehtar, The Green Knight of Gondor, Prince of Mirkwood, of the Nine Walkers, Ithilien,

To Bandobras Took my Beloved and Compassionate Esquire, for Whom my Heart Longs, Who in Sundry Months Shall Begin His Journey to Renew His Apprenticeship, Crickhollow

My Dear Bandobras,

Well, it is over.  So much for my Lady Mother's grand schemes, and Galás and Kaimelas' conspiracies, and Círdan's desires, and my own half-hearted dreams.  I shall not marry, nor shall I father children; there shall be no lady at the helm of my fiefdom; Mithlond and Dol Galenehtar shall maintain their ruse of fair trade but the union of House to House is brought low.  I shall dwell alone in my chambers in my high tower; I shall preside over feasts and festivals with no consort at my side; I shall dandle other men's infants upon my knee, watch them grow and attain age and die; I shall wait me 'til the Sea-Longing has quite overwhelmed my soul and then take me to ship and sail to the West, solitary and unbound.  How tender and sorrowful your letter was, my Bandobras!  But be not so sad for me; it is not my heart but my pride that has been crushed; in either case one has but to hold one's head erect and feign to the watching world one has swiftly recovered, so that they believe it too; I to my relief am surrounded quite by friends and allies who give to me comfort and help in this hour, so that I am not so subdued as I might have been, had this unpleasant happenstance occurred last year.  So lift your little head as well, my Bandobras!  In Spring shall you be with me and I be rid of the pestilence that has so infected my halls; perhaps all shall not be well but it shall be a great improvement.

Now on to better topics!  Fastred and Hísimë are here with me, for Lady Éowyn has delivered herself of another child, a son, whom she and Lord Faramir have named Théodred.  It was the name of Lady Éowyn and King Éomer's cousin, who was to have assumed the throne at King Théoden's death, but was taken to Mandos untimely and the crown passed to Éomer instead.  Andunië was present at the birth (there is a dearth of midwives in Osgiliath and Faramir asked for aid; I should have gone myself if not for the unfortunate mistake I made, that currently hides away in her chambers) and told me little Théodred is a great strapping child, red of face and loud of voice, and his arrival was not easy; Lady Éowyn had many difficulties in bringing him forth due to his excessive size and the passage was painful for her (how I hope your dear mother objects not to my telling you this, but in truth you are of an age to understand and it is knowledge that may do some good in the future); Andunië also reported to me that midway through the procedure Lady Éowyn took hold of her husband's collar, and shaking him like a rag doll demanded he ride immediately to Dol Galenehtar to fetch me, as the other attendants were (here I am quoting Andunië) too stupid to deliver her properly.  I have had a note from Faramir, expressing his relief no permanent damage was done to his lady, and a desire that this third child shall be their last, for her threats (so he tells me) grow the direr with each subsequent child.  I am surprised, for when I delivered Éowyn of Hísimë she abused me not, though her pain and discomfort were great and she far gone in distress; however as I was not the architect of her agony perchance she had more mercy upon me and stilled her tongue.  But Fastred and Hísimë are happy to have a little brother; Fastred's first question to me was, "Lord Lassah, when shall you teach Théodred to shoot with bow and arrow?  I need someone my own age to have tourneys with!"  And Hísimë, after expressing discontent the child was not a girl, asked if I was willing to keep the new baby as well when they came to visit; when I told her I was, she brightened and said, "O I am glad, Lord Lassah!  I was so afraid three children would be too much for you.  My nurse always tells me two are a handful and three are a curse."  At that point both Fastred and Hísimë decided to grill me about my own childhood, both being appalled that I had neither brother nor sister with whom to play, yet perhaps a little envious too, for I needed not share my parents' love with any other child, but did monopolize their affections for myself.  This interrogation of theirs lasted well past sundown, until Hísimë fell asleep on my lap, and Fastred nodded beside me at the hearth; so as to not disturb them I allowed them to sleep in my chambers again, and as for a wonder I had little else of import to do, spent my night in contemplation of the stars, greatly to my relief and benefit.

Hallas' eldest son Baldor and Fastred are become close friends; as I write they ride their Bandy-sleds down the hill (I am amazed for it neither snows nor sleets today, and all the children are running about out of doors, to the relief of Andunië and Hirilcúllas, as they complain the most about children being underfoot) in company with the other little ones; their laughs and shouts ring across the courtyard, though they are muffled somewhat by the cloudy canopy, which is – of course – heavy and dark with promised snow.  Indeed it has done naught but snow for months, Little One, and the only people in Gondor who complain not are the children, who spend their time building men of snow, or digging tunnels, or having little wars throwing snow-missiles, or sledding upon their Bandy-sleds down the slope into the valley.  Only Hísimë and one of Hallas' daughters, Lirien, are indoors; they are playing with Gimli's doll-house in the library, and have asked me to help them when I am finished writing to "Lord Lassah's Bandy."  Now all the children here call me by that title; Aldamir reproved Galen for calling me thus, saying it were discourteous, but I begged him to relent; rather would I be known as "our Lord Lassah" by these precious little ones than any other name, for in childish lispings I delight, and their simple and innocent accolades are more pleasing to me than all the titles and honors I possess.

Gimli, to my sorrow and his relief, has returned at last to Aglarond; he had a message from Rohan saying a new vein of gold had been found, and the clan war he suppressed was arising once more; you ought to have seen him, my Bandobras, as he rode off with Meivel, bundled so upon his pony I could scarce see him through the furs; he put me in mind of a great fat muskrat as he jogged along.  But he arrived in good order (though it took twice as long for them to fight through the drifts) and King Éomer's last dispatch to me was promising, as well it might be, for Gimli pays Éomer a tithe of gold against any precious stones or minerals he might find in his caves, and Dwarves being Dwarves and able to descry the tiniest clue leading to a lode, Éomer has through his generosity to this little colony greatly enriched himself.

Now all are debating whether we ought to go to Minas Tirith for the Mid-Winter's Feast, or have our own separate celebration here; should we decide to go poor Hwindiö shall be constrained to build more great sleds for our horses to pull (the roads are impassable; one can only travel by sleigh or on horseback, and even then it is arduous), yet if we stay King Elessar's halls shall be empty of revelers.  For myself I am inclined to go; Lady Éowyn and little Théodred would come here and between her and her ladies' maids the little ones would be well cared for, leaving my own folk free to enjoy festivities not made by their own efforts; after these past months well do they deserve that treat!  And it is quite jolly to travel by sleigh across the Pelennor, my dear Little One; do you remember the moonlight ride we took, you and Gimli and Faramir and I, from the gates of Minas Tirith to Osgiliath so long ago?  The swish of the runners over the glimmering snow, the clear high ringing of the bells on the harness, the sprays of snow flying back from Piukka's hooves, the white and blue of the landscape, the glittering canopy of stars! O that you were here to ride with me to Minas Tirith, snuggled down beside me in thick fur rugs, bricks hot from the oven to warm our feet; we should fly across the snowy expanse to the White City, the tower of Ecthelion gleaming like an wizard's staff in the dimness, beckoning to us with its twinkling lights and faint faery-music!  How I wish you were here, my Little One, to cradle my bruised heart in your tender hands; my countenance would brighten were you but by my side, and I could begin to forget my disappointments.

Well, it is a good thing Aragorn has employed my people to see to the couriers; otherwise the post would freeze along with the rest of Middle-Earth.  My Lord Father in his last letter did tell me the icicles hang so thick over the front archway of his palace they chime and drop not when the doors swing shut; also when one of the icy spears happens to fall all must beware, for they are big around as an Elf's waist, and should they strike someone great damage might be incurred.  The Long Lake is nearly frozen solid, and the children of Dale and Esgaroth take great pleasure in sliding across it from end to end; the Dwarves of Erebor are of course snug and safe within the Lonely Mountain, and Glóin has unbent enough to send to my Lady Mother a lantern of fabulous make – perhaps we shall see it, when we pass through Eryn Lasgalen again – soon, I hope, within the next few years; it has been long indeed since you sojourned in my Lord Father's halls, and I know he and my Lady Mother miss you as well.

And now O Bandobras I shall bid you farewell for now; Hísimë and Lirien have cunningly trapped Dúrfinwen and Seimiel to play dolls with them, and Fastred and Baldor want me to teach them to make snow-houses.  Do you remember making that snow-house, the winter you were here?  You and Gimli and I could barely all fit within, but at least it did not collapse until after we egressed.  Gimli was as I recall very chagrined by that.  But I shall don my warm clothing and get me to the courtyard; perhaps amidst the laughter of the children I shall numb my aching spirit, and forget for a time the occurrences of the past year.

Write to me and quickly, my Bandobras!  I miss you and am counting the days 'til Spring.

Your Master,

Legolas

Galás , Seneschal of Lord Legolas, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, Lord of Dol Galenehtar,

To Prince Faramir, Lord of Emyn Arnen, Last Steward of Gondor, Beloved Friend and Companion of my Lord,

Greetings,

I sent to you this missive, my Lord, for we are turned upon our heads here; so deep lie the drifts hereabout one would assume even Wood-Elves could not lose their guests but we appear to be missing two – rather important ones, not beloved perhaps but significant nonetheless.  As Lord Legolas has gone to Minas Tirith to meet with Imrahil there, and did leave me instructions to the housing and well-being of the visitors ensconced (some say entrenched) here, and as I have failed him in that Lady Laustairë and her maid Nardanë have somehow vanished, I appeal to you for aid, that with your Rangers and Meivel's scouts we might soon ascertain their whereabouts.

As you know the social atmosphere surrounding Lady Laustairë's rooms has been somewhat constrained of late (now that is an understatement if I do say so myself), with even Nardanë refusing at times to sit with her; and as the lady leaves not her rooms we have not seen her for some weeks.  Nardanë however has run to and fro, seeing to her meals and sundry other comforts by herself; Hirilcúllas offered to aid her but she refused, saying Laustairë preferred no one's company save her own, and even then rarely.  Well they according to the passers-by quarrel quite a bit, and yesterday quarreled a bit more than is usual; after this an amazing thing occurred, Laustairë leaving her rooms, though in such a fit of pique and so far gone in rage none dared accost her; she ran through the halls down to the stables, where she begged and bullied Tyarmayél to give to her a horse; though she did attempt to dissuade the lady Laustairë would not be gainsaid, and tacking up the beast herself did ride off into the valley, saying to Tyarmayél if no ship would come from Mithlond for her she must needs seek a way home herself.  Now as you know (since you are not lacking eyes nor ears and live as we do in Ithilien) it has done naught but snow upon us for a month unending, and 'twas no different yesterday; by the time Tyarmayél found an Elf of adequate rank Laustairë had quite vanished into the thickly-falling flakes, the horse's hoof-prints obscured by fresh fall.  Then they did seek out Nardanë, who with an expressive roll of her eyes did grudgingly agree to go after her; Tyarmayél offered her assistance but Nardanë refused it, saying as it was her doing Laustairë was so angry the responsibility to fetch her back (her words as I recall were "to recall this idiot") from the snow was her own, so after bundling her up in thick fur robes, and providing her with additional ones for her recalcitrant mistress, she rode off into the mists of the flakes, until she was gone as well.

Now the temperature is dropping hourly, and the snow falls ever thicker, accompanied by heavy winds which howl about us like the cries of wolves, and they are not returned, though we have sent out many scouts and search parties after them.  There is no sign of their passage, and as the trees are asleep it is no use asking them; the weather worsens and we are becoming concerned.  To be sure, Elves may bear greater extremes in nature's wrath than others but the storm that brews is not slacking nor in my opinion shall it do so; our ears are stoppered by the stifling thickness of white and numbed by the shrieking winds, and we are thwarted.  My Lord Faramir, will you aid us?  With more men upon horses we might find them the sooner; it is strange to me that they should so far be unfound, for why should they go so far afield in such weather?  And as my Lord returns in two days' time I should not like to greet him with the news that I have lost two of his guests, and those the kin of Círdan of Mithlond.

Reply forthwith to this missive, I pray you, and come to our aid!  It is early yet to panic but we are doing a fair job of it so far.

Your servant,

Galás of Doriath  

Aldamir Son of Castamir, The Red Knight, Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien,

To Dinmor my Seneschal, Amon Din,

Greetings.

I give to you instructions attendant with this note, that you shall give these Elves full comfort and aid in their quest, providing for them fresh horses, or food, or clothing, or whatever else they require, in their labors; they do seek the fate of two Women, Elves and guests of my esteemed and beloved friend Lord Legolas the Green Knight, whom you know well to be a Wise and Gentle Person; these two Women have become lost somehow, and all in Ithilien and Dol Galenehtar have diligently sought them but to no avail; diverse clues have led these sojourners Westward toward our lands, for perchance the Women have traveled so far; strange though it should appear to us, being but Mortals and acquainted solely with our own kin, the Elves as you know are hardy and resilient and there are as I said traces of their passage toward our demesne.  So do you generously give unto them as Lord Legolas and his people have in their largesse and munificence bless us with goods and succor and might of arms, remembering well not only My Friend's great heart and tender spirit upon my hearth but his strong arm and mighty sword upon our fields, where not the once but two times has he come and spilt blood to our benefit.  I need not tell you his Heart aches for the well-being of these Women, and he is seeking South as well, for some traces of their passage go that way in addition to Westward, and there are well over one hundred Elves and Men searching for the Women and for their Fate.  It has been Three Days since their disappearance and the storms abate not nor relent in their wrath, and all are growing apprehensive.

Give unto our ladies' maid the message from my wife Lady Lalanath that all are well and our sons quite happy here; the Elves are gracious and liberal hosts and we want for nothing.

We shall return when passage is safe for my Sons and my Lady Wife.  Keep you in council with these Elves, stout and brave fellows they are, and maintain for me your great works in my absence.

Aldamir Son of Castamir of Amon Din

Aragorn,

Is there no word concerning the fate of Laustairë and her maid?  It has been five days and all my maids are anxious, though neither were favorites of ours.

Do you and Imrahil yet converse?  He is hungry for talk, that one.  I fear he misses Lothíriel.

Undómiel

My Undómiel,

There is no word I fear, but I have not yet had the latest dispatch from Amon Din.  And Imrahil is very talkative tonight.

Aragorn

Aragorn,

Shall I go to Legolas?  He is returned from Linhir and is quite distraught.  Ere he leaves for Osgiliath I might meet with him.

Undómiel

Undómiel,

Imrahil and I have spoken with Legolas just now; he is grim and angry.  We know Laustairë and Nardanë are capable of travel in such weather but their want of consideration for the composure of others exasperates him.  I believe his impatience arises out of frustration at his failure so far to locate them.

He has sent scouts far into the Druadan but with no result.  Have you heard aught from Éowyn?  Faramir's men Legolas sent back; they are not Elves nor hale enough to withstand this weather.

Aragorn

Aragorn,

I have heard from Éowyn; all in Osgiliath are calling Laustairë "The Runaway."  I fear Legolas' reputation as a cuckold is secure and I blame him not for his wrath.

Undómiel

Undómiel,

Is there a particular reason we converse by note?  To my knowledge we are but two floors away and I am pining for my Lady Wife.

Aragorn

Aragorn,

My chambers are warm but empty and await only My Lord to fill them.

Undómiel

My Undómiel,

How beautiful you are, and how wise!  Wait for me, my Beloved, by our hearth; when the light fades to dim shall I woo my Lady Wife with tender words and sweet sentiments.

Only allow me some time to escape my guests.  I do not wish to be rude.

Aragorn

My Beloved Husband,

I await you with fluttering heart and blushing cheek.  And impatience for news as well; has aught been heard from Druadan?

Your Undómiel

My Beloved Undómiel,

I am anxious for the sight of your face, in which all perfection of loveliness lies.  And no, I have not heard from Druadan.

How I wish Legolas were as happy as I!  A pity it is Laustairë is so aggravating.

Your Husband

My Aragorn,

How your tongue sweetens as the years pass!  And yes my husband, I do feel deeply for Legolas as well, though perhaps it is better this way, for I am not sure either Gimli or Bandobras would share him willingly.

On the subject of sharing, when will you shake your guests?

Your Undómiel

My Beloved,

Regarding Legolas, I agree.  I still have not heard from the patrols.

I have sent Imrahil to bed.  Let me but cast aside my stately vestments and I shall be with you forthwith.

Your Husband

Éomer son of Éomund, King of Rohan, Heir of Théoden, Elf-Friend and Protector of Dwarves, Meduseld, Rohan,

To Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Fell-Beast-Bane, Companion of King Wingfoot, Dol Galenehtar,

Greetings.

I send you salutations from my kingdom and from my court at Meduseld, who all of them ask to be remembered to the blithe Prince of Elves (and to his vintners of course), also from my wife Lothíriel, who begs you shall remember her in her time of need, in much the same fashion you aided my dear sister in hers.  (The leeches cannot say for certain but their guess is late Spring or early Summer; I pray you shall not think this request uncouth but come to us then, for as a mare of small frame foals a great colt is often in difficulties I fear my Lothíriel shall find herself suffering the same complaint, and would rather you were here to forestall any difficulties, if at all possible for you.)  Also I send perfunctory greetings from our dear friend Lord Gimli and his folk of Aglarond, and do give unto you tidings of his latest findings, which shall not only enrich him and his people but Rohan as well, which of course is very gratifying, and quite stifles any unschooled grumbling from some folk (I need not tell you who that may be) that the Dwarves came only to eat of our food and drink of our ale and contribute not to the Westfold.  Also Gimli tells us your betrothal has been sundered, but would not give us the tale of it; if it is not so painful a story perhaps you might give it us, for in winter are our hearths the fullest and our hearts long for tales both merry and sad.  I hope this does not mean any ill has befallen you or the maid, and that relations 'twixt your fiefdom and Mithlond be not rent; that would be ill news indeed, for I know His Majesty your Father desired the union of the two folk and hoped to achieve this through your marriage.  That this unification shall not take place is perhaps indicative more of the differences between Elf and Elf, and not (I hope) between Man and Woman, which, though they are vexing differences indeed, are not insurmountable; I may tell you in truth that the compromising thereof can be quite enjoyable.

Though I would gladly spend many pages of parchment writing my fulsome regard for you and for your people, my missive has another aim, and that a sober one.  I know not the intimate doings of your demesne nor of Queen Undómiel's folk at Minas Tirith and so am ignorant of the comings and goings of the Eldar in our land; however I regret to tell you that several of my scouts, when examining the movements of carrion-fowl upon the Onodló, came upon four bodies frozen in the snow; two were horses of yours, being large of girth and with the thick silky feathering that distinguishes them; the other two I fear to report were Elves, women the both of them, in rich but stained and tattered garb; they bore upon their forms no mark or other sign of identity save one who wore round her throat a collar of gold set with pale blue gemstones (Lothíriel says they are aquamarines).  Though heavily cloaked with fur garments they wore no other vestments suitable for the severe weather we have had hereabouts, which is colder and harsher than in your more clement lands about the Anduin, yet only the one we think froze to death; as far as my men could make out they had attempted to cross the river (it is where the Onodló meets the Snowbourne, a broad flat expanse that freezes in midwinter) and the ice, not having had sufficient time to form a proper road, broke beneath the weight of the heavy horses; the rushing black water beneath carried them some way downstream, and the leeches say the darker of the two did break her neck, and the horses' legs were broken and both were drowned; the other woman was found lying beside the first, holding the body tenderly as a mother a child against her own as though to warm her companion, yet as her clothing was soaked in water and the snow fell thickly she died as well.

I know not for what reason two such women should travel so far, with neither baggage nor proper clothing in such fierce conditions, alone with none to guide or protect them; perchance they are part of a larger party, and became separated and lost, so ending their sweet immortal lives in loneliness and privation.  Knowing not to whom to send this report, and recognizing neither woman as one of your own or as one of Queen Undómiel's, I thought to inform you, that you might perchance identify these two unfortunates, that their families and friends might be able to sorrow properly for them.  We have laid them out as best we could in an open shed guarded by two armed men, upon biers richly decorated and covered in cloth of gold, and the icy air shall see to it they decay not, that it shall be the easier for you to descry their names from their fair cold faces.  Fortunately the snow has slacked for now, allowing the King's messengers free passage, so that this letter shall reach you within some days; I hope to hear from you soon, that these two poor women shall be properly mourned, and laid to rest.

I beg of you commend me unto my Lady Sister and her noble Husband, and fare you well during the winter festivities!  That I could be with you as you suggested; however I am loath to leave my Lothíriel, and certain it is she cannot travel now.

In sorrow we are sundered, yet with hope we shall soon foregather in happiness,

Éomer King

Galás of Doriath, Seneschal of Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien,

To King Éomer Son of Éomund, Elf- and Dwarf-Friend, Rohan,

Greetings.

We did receive your letter today, and were filled with consternation and sorrow; these women are we are certain Laustairë and Nardanë of Mithlond, my Lord's former betrothed and her lady's maid.  They rode off ten days ago and though many scouts both Elf and Man have searched for them no sign of them did we find; that your men came across them as far as Rohan seems to tell us they did attempt the arduous journey to Mithlond alone. 

My Lord thanks you profusely for your regard in the tender care and keeping of their bodies, and has instructed me to tell you to lay them in state in lead-lined coffins (Lord Gimli he is sure will see to the proper construction thereof) to be brought back to Dol Galenehtar for proper burial.  He shall arrive in four days' time from the sending of this letter.

I need not tell you this incident has laid my Lord's spirit low within him, and beg you to treat him with all gentleness and careful courtesy when he arrives.  For myself I am sure he assumes the blame for this tragedy, and naught any may say, not even King Elessar, turns him from his surety.  I have written to his father, King Thranduil, and to Lord Círdan as well to inform them of these recent events; whether this shall sunder Mithlond and Mirkwood I know not neither do I care; for the moment my sole concern is for the heart and mood of my Lord, who within moments of reading your missive seemed to me to wither inside; he weeps not yet his face is gray and set, and I like not the look in his eyes.  Watch him carefully, your Majesty, and inform Meivel immediately if you see aught that concerns you.

I thank you for your kind attention and interest in this matter, and believe me, your Majesty, that I remain

Your Servant,

Galás of Doriath

Gimli Son of Glóin, Lord of Aglarond, Lock-Bearer and Elf-Friend, of the Nine Walkers, Rohan,

To Bandobras Took son of Reginard, Esquire of the Green Knight of Dol Galenehtar, Crickhollow

Dear Bandy,

Greetings to you, my dear little friend; I know your heart is bowed under with sorrow and believe me when I tell you that you are not alone in your concern.  Be not so dismayed your Master has not written you – at the time he seems incapable of writing or speaking; in the years I have known him never have I seen him this distraught, and we are all very concerned.  He came to Meduseld with sundry other Elves (Meivel and Himbaláth send their greetings to you by the way, and beg you come to us quickly) to fetch the bodies of Laustairë and her maid Nardanë; I had made their coffins myself, and decorated them with gold and runes as richly as I could within the limited time frame I was accorded.  After Legolas and his people arrived Éomer himself led us all to the shed, and opened the lids showing us their faces; your Master gazed down upon them, his countenance pale and grim in the dim candlelight; then his features contorted, and his eyes filled with tears; Éomer, seeing his distress, placed a hand as to comfort upon his shoulder, and Legolas fell to his knees beside the coffins, his face hidden behind his hands; though he wept not he trembled nor answered us; at last Himbaláth gestured us away, and we left him there alone, and he did not emerge for some hours.  Then the folk of Meduseld came, and lit torches, and sang a dirge; after which I led my own folk in a chant to Námo; then O Bandy how the hearts of the folk were wrung, for Legolas lifted his hands unto heaven, and sang an Elven requiem in his own tongue; there was not a dry eye in Meduseld, Bandy, nor among my people, so rending was it to hear his clear strong voice quaver, to watch the light in his eyes extinguish, and to see his heart broken. 

Do you not question me as I write that:  I meant "heart broken" in a differing sense than how folk usually use it; we both know well he loved not the maid Laustairë nor her friend Nardanë, but still it is with intense sorrow they bid one of their own farewell, who ought to have lived many ages upon this earth or in Valinor.  Also I fear to tell you your Master, being your Master, has taken the blame upon himself for their deaths (though he was not even in Dol Galenehtar when they left), he did tell me this eve ere he sought his couch in Meduseld that his culpability lies not in Laustairë's actions but in his own attitude toward her from the start, and there is naught I can say to change him.  There is more; he did give unto me a letter, found in Nardanë's rooms after her departure; he said to me, "Destroy it, for I cannot," but in truth I cannot either, for it seems to me some part of the tale still needs be told.  So I send it on to you, Bandy, to do with as you will; perhaps you ought keep it for now, and give it him later, when it is not so painful to read it – for myself I thought it would rather cause him to feel less culpable, but it seems to instead have rendered him senseless to all emotion save sorrow and regret.

Tell your mother to wait for me; I shall leave here shortly after Legolas and his contingent return the bodies to Dol Galenehtar; I go there with him to be by his side during the funeral and give what comfort I can, but when I am satisfied he shall do himself no harm in his grief I am coming back, and shall pass through Rohan and up Hollin to Bree; from there I shall go to Crickhollow and fetch you.  This is no longer a question of his desiring your presence; he needs his esquire now and I am going to bring you to him.  But do not I beg you tell him I am doing this!  When I mentioned it to him today he chided me saying the weather was far too harsh for travel and I should bring more harm than good; so be you sure to pack warm clothing, and we shall go in a carriage with many goods and comfits; also I bring Hwindiö with me, a good stout Elf and very capable; he shall see to it you and your mother lack for nothing.  Fríma also has said she will come, so that your mother shall have another lady about with whom to converse; I hope they get on well; she is gruff and not very affable but a good lady nonetheless.

Write to your Master and give him what consolation you may, though I fear it shall be hollow words only – I can think of naught to say to alleviate his pain; only time shall dull it now.

Watch for me; it shall take me six weeks at most.

Gimli

**********************************************************************************

 (attached letter)

Nardanë Daughter of Parímoëar, of Lindon

To Kalamiril Daughter of Menelúin of Mithlond, my Beloved Friend,

Greetings,

O Kalamiril, that you were here with me; I am so wretched!  Indeed I was unhappy an hour past but now I am doubly so. 

Laustairë has done naught but sulk and hide away since her atrocious acts at the Tournament; we are still trapped here by the inclement snow and storms, and I feel at times Dol Galenehtar is a ship asail in a cold white sea, for when I stand upon the balcony and gaze out at Legolas' lands there are naught but huge drifts like swells of waves as far as my eye can see.  I am drowning here, Kalamiril; drowning in anger and discomfort and melancholy; I know not what I shall do, and wish only to go home to you, that you might soothe me, and take this infant off my hands for a time.

Yet perhaps when you read what I have done to her you shall not wish to befriend me any longer.  O Kalamiril, what shall I do?  How I wish I were in Mithlond, how I wish I had never come here!

I know that Laustairë has not written you; this is to preserve her sense of affront, for should she attempt to justify her actions to you I know not even she could defend herself.  Instead she crouches within our chambers, alternately weeping and raging, and I am not certain which action offends me most; betimes Hirilcúllas or Dúrfinwen or Andunië offer to speak with her, but I refuse them, for I know she would do the more damage were her tongue unleashed.  She is so miserable, Kalamiril; she feels in her heart she was vindicated to take her revenge upon her betrothed, yet realizes the great hurt she has done and knows not how to bring these two feelings into accord.  Legolas was right – she is too young to wed – and now that her nature has been so blazoned abroad we shall never find a mate for her.  Would she but apologize to him, privately even, I am sure he would soften (though he would still not marry her, nor do I blame him for that) and she would be forgiven, for his heart is tender and affectionate and he most desires harmony and peace within his walls; yet each time I suggest it to her, after she has wept and complained of his anger, her own wrath blazes forth, disguising her guilt, and we quarrel so loudly betimes Kaimelas knocks upon the door, requesting some semblance of decorum.

Today I had had too much; I have tempered my words to a certain extent as you requested of me, but her continual blame of the ladies of Legolas' court inflamed me, and I spoke my mind harsher than I had intended; she turned to me quite white in the face, and asked why I had joined with "her enemies against her."  I told her quite plainly that she was in the wrong and "her enemies" would have been her friends but for her own selfish and vain actions; this initiated her usual rant against Seimiel (though she is to be wed to Kaimelas this Spring) and Dúrfinwen and the others, claiming them to be jealous of Legolas' regard for her and sabotaging his love for her.  Then in anger I said,

"Legolas is far too wise and prudent to accede to such foolishness, Laustairë; had you but behaved yourself his regard for you would have remained unswayed, even if Dúrfinwen and Hirilcúllas desired him – which they do not; they are not so base as to desire another woman's betrothed."

She looked at me then, her eyes dark with fury; balling her hands into fists she said:  "They are not the sole perpetrators of this indignity; you yourself have cast yourself so before his face he can scarce see me."

"I have done no such thing," said I with great indignation; "my sole desire has been the union betwixt Mithlond and Dol Galenehtar, as Lord Círdan did instruct me; to disrupt your relations with Legolas would be foolish in the extreme.  Do you give me credit for some intelligence, Laustairë."

At that point her speech degenerated into a series of incidents proving my perfidy; she had remembered each one and coddled them and cosseted them 'til they burst forth in an orgy of recrimination against me:  How I had spoken to him over her own voice, explaining her meaning; how I had gone to him attempting to smooth things over but instead remaining by his side talking for hours; how I had in her stead ridden with him into the woods for a day – things I had indeed done, Kalamiril, though I had not noticed how they vexed her at the time.  "I only sought to ease relations betwixt you two," I said, though my words sounded feeble even to myself.

She drew herself up then, tall and furious; she said coldly:  "You sought only to endear yourself to my beloved, taking my place in his affections; you thought to see to the union betwixt Mithlond and Dol Galenehtar without me:  You are in love with him yourself."

I opened my mouth to object, Kalamiril, but then I realized she saw the truth, though I did not:  each time I interrupted her when they were speaking, each time I stood by his side, each time I sat to watch him, I remembered; though at the time I excused myself saying I did it to make sure things went smoothly betwixt Laustairë and he I am forced to admit for once in her foolish life Laustairë has seen true, and I have not:  I am in love with him.  What disgrace is mine!  O what shall I do, Kalamiril?  Even if he returned my affections (which I am sure he would not; such a thing would be abhorrent to one so decent as he) I could not countenance such a thing; it should be shameful, detestable; all should object to such a union, and rightly so; what should my Lord think, or his noble Parents, should such a thing come about?  Yet to my humiliation I admit to you I contemplate this with deep and tender longing, Kalamiril – O I am shamed to think such a thing; I disgrace not only Lord Círdan but Legolas himself with my repugnant desires!

Laustairë did see the realization dawn in my eyes, and grew the angrier; with a cry she threw herself at me, beating me with her fists and weeping, and in my mortification I resisted her not, for I knew her to be justified in her wrath, so I stood with bowed head, accepting my doom.  Then she broke away, her eyes frantic; she said:  "You are in love with Legolas then?"  "I am," I said sadly, and with an exclamation of anger she quit me, leaving these rooms for the first time in weeks.  Now it is quiet and I can think, but I take no comfort from these thoughts – I am condemned to unhappiness, my dear friend; I am ruined and lost, for the one I desire is forever denied me.  He shall go on, living his life alone but strong and hale, for he needs neither maid nor man to support him; I however shall slink back to hide in my home, shamed and disgraced by this failure, and shall either fade, or go soon to Valinor, to reap what happiness might be mine – none, if Elbereth knows my reprehensible cravings, for I have dishonored my family and my Lord, indeed I have dishonored Legolas himself, who would be mortified to know of my feelings for him.  I have naught but humiliation and discredit to my name now, and the sooner I quit these fair halls, the sooner I distance myself from the sound of his clear voice and the sight of his fair face, the sooner I conceal myself from his kindly dear eyes, the better and gladder all shall be – save myself, for I am constrained to guilt and shame and sorrow, and I cannot raise my head.

Kaimelas has just come in; he said to me Laustairë did take from the stables a horse and rode into the storm, saying she should seek her home herself.  Foolish child!  But I blame her not for her actions; how can I then blame her, when I am culpable as well, and desire also to return to Mithlond?  Well I had best go after her and fetch her back; this is no weather to travel in.  I shall finish this later, O Kalamiril, and regale you further with tales of our stay here, which has been both heavenly and horrendous  – heavenly, for it did bring to me the breathtaking countenance of my beloved, yet horrendous, for it is forever denied me.

Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien,

To Bandobras Took, my Beloved Esquire, Crickhollow

My Dear Bandobras,

I apologize deeply and profoundly to you, my dear Little One, for the dearth of missives that I have penned; so onerous has been my life hereabouts lately I have written no one, and save official documents you are the sole receptor of my letters now.

Gimli said he told you of our loss; your letter of sympathy to me was received but last night, and I thank you for it, as does Lord Círdan of Mithlond. He is here to see to the grave-sites, and to grieve himself for Laustairë and Nardanë; he also is weary with sorrow, as well as with his journey, for the sea is dark and foamy and rough and his passage did not go easy with him.

I feared to foregather with him, dreading his censure, but when he had eaten he came to me in my chambers, and we did speak at length concerning his charge Laustairë, and the difficulties we had experienced in our attempts to find common ground. He sighed then, and said to me, "I ought rather to have sent Kalamiril – she is better – was better, rather – with Laustairë than Nardanë, who was quick-tempered and unsympathetic to one of my charge's youth and temperament.  Yet Kalamiril was content to stay behind, being the less adventurous of the two of them.  It is a pity for I am sure Kalamiril would have defied me and not forced the betrothal as Nardanë did in her eagerness to fulfill my orders, seeing how unsuited you were for each other."

"I am sorry," I said, for his face was suffused with regret; "I meant no harm to either of them but in truth I could not persuade my heart to tender emotion when I felt it not." 

"Peace, son of Thranduil!" he said then gently, taking my chin in his hand and fixing me with a keen eye.  "The blame for this lies not upon your head, but rather upon mine and your noble parents'.  You cannot be held culpable for this." 

"But my guilt is here still," I insisted; "in the same fashion as I may not constrain my heart to love when it loves not, neither may I convince it to give up its feelings of culpability for their deaths.  They were after all in my care." 

"What could you have done, then, my child?" he asked, smiling faintly.  "Laid hands upon them and with violence forced them to return?  Be at peace, young Prince; none in Mithlond hold you responsible for this."  I attempted to smile but his words though comforting lay but upon the surface of my heart and did not pierce it; he did look upon me and upon my own sorrow and after a keen observation did say unto me that "sorrow is deep yet fleeting; with morning comes consolation," and giving me a kiss upon my brow quit me to his rooms.  I am soothed somewhat, for he is a great Lord of Elves and I esteem him highly; thoughts of his disapprobation were abhorrent to me and I am relieved to have received his blessing.

This does not however remove from me my feelings of culpability for these occurrences; had I been the wise and foresighted Master you believe me to be this should never have happened.  O why have I done what have I done, my dear Little One?  Why did my desire for peace and fatherhood so cloud my vision?  O that you were here to soothe me, my Bandobras; O that it were Spring and you were by my side.  Alas for the house of Oropher!  I fear it fails with my passage.

My Lady Mother has sent to me a message; she and sundry others of my Lord Father's court sail down the Anduin upon ice-breaker barges to Dol Galenehtar to spend the remainder of the Winter and the next Spring and Summer.  At first I feared she should find some other maid to foist upon me, but in her letter she wrote:  "I have failed you, my son; I have given that unto you which you did not desire, so taking from you that which you desperately needed.  Forgive me and your Lord Father both for our interference; we shall not do so again."  So if nothing else of value has come out of this disaster at least my Lady Mother is well convinced her son shall not be wed.

I suppose I ought to tell you of the funeral and the lords and ladies who attended, but in truth I have not the heart to do so; still the memory of these past weeks grates upon me like rough metal chafing an open wound.  Perhaps someone else may tell you of it for I cannot.

I am so tired, O Bandobras, so weary and filled with torpor; at times it is all I can do to rise me up from my couch to attend to court duties, and when I am seated upon my throne every bone in my body sags and supports not my weight.  I hear plaints and make judgments as I have ever done but there is no joy in it – all seems gray to me, Little One, gray and clouded as the skies above us that cease not to pelt snow upon our heads; almost it seems to me the snow lies about me and upon me and smothers me, muffling sound and obscuring vision and numbing sense.  It would be so satisfying to simply curl myself into a ball and allow it to overwhelm me, hiding me from my subjects and friends and duties so that I need never open my eyes again.  After all I take no pleasure in things nowadays; food tastes like straw so that I want to spit it out; wine like vinegar; music grates upon mine ears and laughter is an affront to me – it should be a relief to forego this mockery any longer and close mine eyes to the circling heavens.  I do not wish to be reminded of my immortality – it is an injury to me, this doom; it is abhorrent for me to think that season shall follow season, year follow year and age follow age, yet I shall remain the same, and this ache within me will ever eat at me and make my life a misery.  Lord Círdan may speak all he likes of sorrow passing with time, but what of regret?  It is eternal even as I am, and that thought brings me no comfort.

Kaimelas has just come in to tell me the Lord and Lady of Emyn Arnen are here with their children, and the little ones are clamoring for their "Lord Lassah."  I ought to rise myself and see them, though I would rather stay here in my chambers where I am alone and it is quiet; it is an effort for me to keep my composure when others are about, and I do not want to alarm my friends.  At least Kaimelas no longer attempts to dress me in such ostentatious finery any longer – in fact I am not certain where that wardrobe has gone; I know it no longer resides in my dressing room, to my relief; I may wear all the dull colors and plain fabrics I like.

I apologize for the tenor of this letter – I shall try to be more cheerful in the future.

How I miss you!

Your Loving Master,

Legolas

Edlothiel Daughter of Ailosacathil of Cardolan, Queen of Eryn Lasgalen, From Whom Sprung Legolas Her Son, Lord of Dol Galenehtar and a Credit to His Race, Dol Galenehtar,

To Her Husband His Majesty King Thranduil Oropherion, Prince of Doriath, The Mighty Hand of Taur e-Ndaedelos, Spider-Bane, Orc-Bane, Troll-Bane, Friend of Dale and Esgaroth, Eryn Lasgalen.

My Dearest Husband,

I put pen to parchment with heavy heart, O My Beloved; I arrived but two days past and felt immediately upon alighting at Osgiliath the dearth of the ebullient joy that has ever followed our Son where he dwells.  Lord Faramir met me at the dock (a good thing that; it is very icy, moreso than even our own berths; what Yavanna thinks she is doing so covering her fields with snow and ice no one may guess) and with sober face did tell me our Legolas was far gone in sorrow and recrimination – do you remember, Beloved, how distraught was he, when the first Elf fell beneath his command?  How he beat his breast, and blamed himself, saying his culpability lay in tandem with his authority?  Well it is as we feared – only this is subtly worse; when I questioned Legolas asking why he was brought so low he only shook his head, his eyes downcast, saying he could not disclose his thoughts to me – and would not; his mind is closed to my eye, and it seems to me as though he sits alone in a dark room bereft of all hope; he has shut me out, my Husband, so that I am confounded and know not how to comfort him.  How I wish you were here!  There is new and untried pain in his countenance with which he struggles mightily, but Legolas being Legolas he is far too stubborn to share his fears with me; he was ever so, Beloved, even as a child awaked in the dark by night terrors – whether he dreamt of trolls, or of Balrogs, or even of future horrors he might meet, he would remain dumb, despite my best efforts, it was only his Ada who could unlock his tongue.  There is more to this, my Husband, than the deaths of two Elves, no matter one was his erstwhile betrothed; but what it might be I am ignorant of it.

Kaimelas fears Legolas longs anew for Valinor, saying only the comfort of the Valar might save him; it is better than other options open to him, though 'twould be a great pity indeed; for with our Son's egress would go a great company of his people with him, and Dol Galenehtar despite his work and efforts be emptied far too soon; though rather should I desire for him to seek the Sea than other routes to peace.  Yes, O my Beloved, it has gone so far; how our Son hates Death!  Ever has he railed against it, spilling his own blood for the forestalling of its shadow; yet I see that same shade upon him, though I feel him fight it with waning strength.  Were that Gimli were here, or better still his little Bandobras!  I have no comfort to give my Son; I am wordless in his presence, for the depths of his sorrow have baffled me.

Lord Círdan and sundry of his attendants are here also, and he and I spoke at length concerning what we have done to Legolas; Círdan is wise, and recognizes our Son's feelings of remorse as empty yet harmful; he has done all he can to erase Legolas' fruitless mourning, assuring him of his good favor, but still our Son sinks, though he puts on a good front; when his friends come to visit he dresses gaily and eats and drinks with all, but his smile is fixed and there is no laughter in his eyes.  Our poor, jolly, light-hearted, high-spirited Son – O my Beloved, I fear that he is Fading; there is no color in his face or light in his eye, and when I feel his spirit it is dull and cold.  The only time I have seen the slightest glimmer of pleasure in his eyes was when he sat and played with Lord Aldamir's little boys; he dandled them and tickled them and kissed them and cuddled them, and for a while my heart was lifted for he seemed almost like his old self; however when little Galen fell asleep on his shoulder and Aldamir's wife Lalanath took the babe from him, I saw his face convulse with sudden piercing sorrow, and the joy in him withdrew like a wave sinking back from the sands into the sea; his longing was almost palpable then, yet so stunted and twisted it wrenched at me anew.

I hope that Gimli and Hwindiö and Fríma are successful in their venture; our Son may rise from this crushing remorse and regret on his own, but there shall be no joy lest his little esquire comes to him.  Bandobras has been given an abundance of charm, and loves Legolas more than any other child of any other race that surrounds our Son; if any might return the pleasure of life to our Son's heart it shall be that little one, and none else.

At any rate Dol Galenehtar thrives and prospers; the hard work and fierce determination of the past ten years has borne much fruit, and our Son ought rather to be proud of his achievements; the people here are happy and content, and there are rumors that a group of our Silvan brothers from Lothlórien are preparing to leave their forests and dwell herein, for in Celeborn's absence they desire a Lord and a safe haven ere they venture to the Sea, and our Son's generosity has persuaded them.  Ever he nurtures and succors, O my Beloved!  He has poured so much of himself into the building of this fiefdom; it is no wonder there is naught left of him to endure this tragedy.

Write to me and soon, O my Beloved Husband; I speak often with King Elessar and Undómiel, and Legolas' especial friends Lord Faramir and Lady Éowyn, and all are deeply concerned for our Son's well-being; I hope that there shall not be need for it, but do you plan to come in the Spring, lest the hopes we have pinned upon a small Hobbit fail and our Son Fade.  How it hurts me to write it!  But I shall not disguise from you my concern; if at any time Legolas needed friends and family about it is now.

In sorrow we are so sundered, and in hopes we shall soon be reunited,

Your Loving Wife,

Edlothiel

Legolas Thranduilion, The Green Knight, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien,

To Cirien the Wise of Langstrand, the Yellow Knight, Partner in Fiscal Infamy and My Dear and Loyal Friend, Edhellond

Lord Cirien,

It was with sorrow I did bid you farewell, my friend, though well I understand your concern and desire to return to your keep; do please convey unto your Lady Wife my deepest regards and sincerest wishes for her good health.  As adjunct to this letter I ask that you give to her also in measured doses of the tonic I have sent; it has curative properties, being made by my herbalist Liquíseleé, a wise and compassionate woman, who with Elessar and his leeches has convened to brew medicines and healthful supplements using the herbs and roots that grow in abundance in my demesne.  She assures me though it shall not cure your Lady completely it shall lend unto her the strength necessary to combat her illness, and give to her ease of breath and clarity of mind, only she begs of you to watch the dosage closely; no more than two drops in a glass of clean water once daily, or more harm than good shall befall your Lady.  I was not sanguine about sending this potion to you, my friend, thinking perchance this concoction far too strong for one in such straits as your Lady Wife; however Elessar did assure me her health has deteriorated to such a state as to make these measures necessary if we are to see her survive the winter.

I hope that you returned to Edhellond in good time yourself, for the weather hereabouts is as nefarious as it ever has been these past few months; I have been told in your more clement clime it is not so cold as it is here and feel confident you were delayed by no more snow and ice than usual.  In the North it is particularly bad; my Lady Mother despairs of her letters reaching Eryn Lasgalen, and I have not heard from my esquire Bandobras in some time, so that I am forced to conclude the snows have been far too deep for the King's Post to penetrate.  Elessar does assure me though that south of Minas Tirith the roads are clear, and the River does force its sluggish floes through the Ethir Anduin, which affords Lord Círdan some comfort, as he is anxious to return to his home and bring tidings of his journey to his subjects.

Again I must thank you, my friend, for your timely and prudent advice, and do assure you it is already bearing much fruit; Tuilíndo has indeed proved to be of great assistance to Galás, now that the terraces are finished and he has the time to devote to these duties, and his wife Leithwen has agreed to serve as Lady of the Court when my Lady Mother returns home in the Autumn.  Laivánwa their son is also a fine and wise Elf and aids his father and my seneschal in the performance of their duties, so that Hirilcúllas betimes comes to me and with a smile shows her chart, saying, "Look, my Lord!  You have naught to do today save rise, dress, and eat."  And Galás, the droll fellow, when I sat upon the dais with Lord Círdan this morning, came to me at a run with the cry:  "My Lord!  Help!  My Lord!"  "What is it?" I exclaimed springing to my feet in alarm.  He stood before me, waving his arms about energetically and shouting:  "I have nothing to do!  O woe is me!  I have finished with all my labors and it is not yet noon!"  Then giving me a sly grin he said:  "Himbaláth, Morambel and I are going boar-hunting to celebrate this unprecedented incident – would you do the honor of joining us, my Lords both?"  And laughing Lord Círdan and I agreed to it.  I have not had such leisure in ten years, my friend; now that more of my folk are settled in their separate homes and tasks they are able to help us immeasurably, and your suggestion to put their energy to good work has freed me for such pursuits I have not enjoyed in a long time.

You did say to me in your last letter, Lord Cirien, that sundry of our friends were concerned on my behalf, for I did not seem to be myself, being less likely to laugh and smile as I had been before.  I thank you (shall I forever be in debt to your timely wisdom, my friend?) for your answers to them, which you handed down to me, that such a year as I have endured gives anyone the right to sad reflection and sober thought; yet I do assure you there is little to concern you despite your tentative probings; to be sure I am more desirous of my own company alone than I had been before, and less apt to quick speech or merry song; it is only this dim grey winter I am sure, and that many of my friends did depart after the Midwinter Feasts, going to their own homes and leaving Dol Galenehtar the quieter; also Gimli has gone on a journey to see his kin in the North and as well as Bandobras he is greatly missed by me, for of all beings who could succor and comfort me it should be those two, and though I grudge not either of them their own separate duties quite selfishly I would have them both by my side!  If I can but maintain my spirits 'til Spring I am sure the rebirth of Arda shall stir within me life and happiness once more.  Perhaps I shall go unto Langstrand, my friend, and renew my acquaintance with the Sea; its subtle heartbeat calls to me, whispering of peace and forgetfulness; now more than ever I desire to leave these shores and find new life elsewhere.  But fear not!  That shall not be for many years hence; as well as the Sea shall I foregather with you and Gilmir and your Lady Wife, and bring with me olive shoots for us to graft upon your trees, that your orchards shall blossom with these new fruit.

Speaking of grafting, my friend, you did ask my counsel regarding your former esquire Gilmir, who has achieved his majority yet dreads to leave you; though it pains me to take this route, my lord, I must remind you that your wife in her current state is unlikely to produce for you an heir, and you also approach the age where remarrying in her death would be unwise (and how unlike you that should be!); therefore my advice to you is this:  Take for yourself Gilmir as the tender shoot grafted upon your hale bole; he is young, prudent, and loves you dearly, and would make a more fitting heir than your cousin Carnimdil, who is as you have said on numerous occasions little more than the titular head of that branch of your house, being weak-minded and given to much drink.  How distressing it would be to have such a one as head of your household in Edhellond at your passing!  Rather would I take the reins of Langstrand myself (yea, even over Elessar's rule, for he is just and would be constrained to follow the laws hereabouts) until an heir worthy of you should be found, despite the scandal I should cause; you have done far too much to increase the fortunes of your people to have it squandered by a foolish drunkard, and it would burn my heart to know your fiefdom had crumbled for want of a son.  It is true; you shall anger many members of your family should you do so, but in the long run I feel Edhellond shall be the healthier for a little new blood in its veins.

Well it is time for the boar-hunt, my friend; a shame it is you are not here for it!  I know well you do not like this sport, but I am quite aware you are fond of fresh pork; it is a great pity you shall not sit at my high table tonight to enjoy of it with me.  Galás and Himbaláth bid me send to you their greetings, and my Lady Mother as well; do you write to me and quickly, to let me know how fares your Lady Wife with the tonic Liquíseleé has sent; all our prayers for her good health go unto her.

Many thanks for your fine council!  I hope that I shall see you again soon.

Your Servant,

Legolas Thranduilion, the Green Knight

Éowyn of Osgiliath, Lady of Emyn Arnen, Princess of the House of Éomund, White Lady of Rohan, Nazgûl-Bane, Osgiliath,

To Her Majesty Queen Undómiel, Arwen Evenstar, Queen of Gondor and Arnor, Beloved Friend and Wise Councilor, Minas Tirith,

Greetings.

O my dear friend it was delightful to foregather with you these past weeks, to see how my little ones blossom beneath your touch, and to know your tender hand guides them as well as does mine.  I thank you once again for your most generous gifts to my little Théodred, for the rocking-horse especially; Fastred did inquire of me after you had left, if it were of Dwarf-make or Elf-make; he said to me, "It seems to me clever and crafty like the Dwarves are, yet lovely and strong as are the Elves."  And when I did tell him it were fashioned by Lord Gimli of Aglarond he said with satisfaction:  "O!  Then I was right on both counts, Lady Mother; 'twas fashioned by a Dwarf who is friends with Elves."  Though he is not yet ten years I feel betimes he outshines those his own age; he has inherited Faramir's insight – praise the Valar for that! – but my love of combat, which is also gratifying.

I had chance to sit for a while with Legolas as we discussed, my friend, and speak with him most carefully concerning our fears for him; far from dismissing my anxiety he did heave a deep sigh, and said to me:  "It is the gray weather, or the Sea, or my grief, or my sudden leisure – I know not, my Lady – this malaise has gripped me about mine heart, but in loose and dissembling clutch, for I shall go along quite close to forgetting this tragedy of mine for a time, yet in an instant it shall overwhelm me, and I be oppressed with thick sorrow so that my limbs weaken and mine eyes dim."  "Do you yet feel culpable for their deaths?" I asked carefully, remembering what Círdan had said to us, that he took upon his head liability for their departure; he shook his head then and smiled faintly, saying, "Nay, that is but a small part of it, my Lady – ah, where shall I begin naming my griefs?  That I shall remain alone?  That I shall never sire sons?  That I did not return Laustairë's affections?  That Nardanë – "  Then he paused, and a look of deep regret suffused his features so that mine own heart nearly broke to see it; I pressed him:  "Yes, what of Nardanë?"  But he turned from me and said, his voice subdued:  "Nothing, my Lady – I would tell you, but it is not my secret."  So you were correct, my friend; there is more to this than we had thought – it does indeed involve the other maid as well as the Infant – but I will wager much gold that his regard for Nardanë was no deeper than his for Laustairë.  O that his heart were not so tender!  Gladly would I lend unto him mine own callousness, to shield him for a time from this grief; I like not to see him so dragged down; it is very unlike him, and I miss my merry Elf-Lord.  Well, perchance as Queen Edlothiel has said, when Gimli returns with little Bandobras we shall see a freshening of his disposition, and a turning of his winter to warmth.  Certain it is his tower is deplete of late, for with the brief respite in the weather we did see a grand egress of his guests, notably Cirien, Aldamir, Araval and Mardil, those four hardy and loyal friends of the Green Knight; there are few children now to lighten his halls with laughter, so I send Fastred and Hísimë to him as often as I may bear, for Edlothiel did tell me her son's countenance brightens considerably when they are near, and he can hear their dear voices.  Are there no orphans about, Arwen, that we might send unto him?  For surely were he able to keep about him young and blithe hearts and childish song his sorrow and regret could fade with time, obscured so beneath the frenetic and merry noise of youthful vitality that he scarce marked its passage.  Faramir has complained of late that Fastred and Hísimë spend more time with their "Lord Lassah" than with their own father; when I explained unto him my reasons for doing so he softened and relented, but reminded me that eventually the little Lord and Lady of Emyn Arnen must needs return to their own demesne, despite their love of the Elven Lord and his subjects.

I did fear the preparations for Kaimelas and Seimiel's wedding this spring would awaken in Legolas deeper feelings of regret and grief, but it is not so; so relieved is he to have Seimiel taken so completely from his Lady Mother's List of Desirable Maidens that he has devoted much time and energy to the planning and provisions it shall rival any other wedding held so far in Osgiliath – his own included, from what I could tell – certainly far above what one would expect of a valet to an under-secretary, but as Seimiel was Queen Edlothiel's lady's maid, and Kaimelas until his injury upon Amon Din a high-ranking member of the militia, perchance it is not so strange.  Certainly those two are oblivious to any censure, being so deeply enamored of each other it is a wonder they can perform any court functions; fortunately Legolas is quite capable of dressing himself, and I am pleased to report he has given up the unrelieved black of mourning and clothes himself instead in green and brown.

Well that is all I have to recount; things remain as they have been these past months, with the Lord of Dol Galenehtar holding a puppet-self before his assemblies, miming good cheer and with pretense smiling yet dull; though Tyarmayél did tell me in secret ere I left she had had a letter from Hwindiö saying Gimli had reached Bree in good order and hoped to be in Rohan before the first thaw.  My Royal Brother shall send out scouts in five weeks' time to watch for their arrival; hopefully no further inclement weather shall delay them.

Give my humble regards to your noble husband, and bid him find another Ceremonies Master; I do not think Ethmor is up to the challenge, and I am spoiling for another Tournament next year.

With all tenderness of feeling and joy in our friendship,

Éowyn

Legolas Thranduilion, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, The Green Knight of Gondor, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, No Longer Called "Legolas the Merry" but "Legolas the Inconsolable" (though it is early yet to give unto me that appellation), Ithilien

To Bandobras Took my Esquire, Traitor-Bane, My Loyal Friend and Beloved Companion, For Whom My Heart Longs, Crickhollow

My Dear Bandobras,

Well it has been many weeks since I last received word of you, O Little One; I have heard tell it is quite snowy and stormy in the Gap of Rohan impeding the Post, and my Lord Father did relate in his last missive the difficulties folk are having sending messages over the Misty Mountains – all the passes are blocked, he said, and even Baranil could not get through to Imladris.  And when that canny warrior is thwarted, O my Bandobras, it must be rough going indeed; in the many years I have known my Lord Father's Captain I have never seen him baffled by any impediment neither quick nor still.  So I shall assume you have yet to receive my letters, and I yours, O Bandobras; perhaps when the thaw comes you shall be surprised when Old Holbard delivers unto your house in Crickhollow a stack of letters from me, beginning in midwinter and following my exploits 'til spring.

But what shall you say to them then, my Little One?  Dull and eventless you shall no doubt find them; I am no longer busy – much to my dismay; how I should love to bury my regret in work! – and all my friends and visitors have quit me, so my halls are quiet now and patiently await spring and its attendant functions.  Did I say last year I desired to hide myself away and forswear banquets and feasts and meetings and councils?  No more!  Gladly would I welcome the hectic pace of last year, O Bandobras; at least then my days and nights were filled with tasks and duties and gatherings, and I could hide myself in them; now I preside over my small meals with heavy heart, and my courtiers watch me, wondering and worrying.  I know what they are thinking, my Little One; they are thinking I pine for my betrothed, and regret we shall not marry.  Well they may continue on in that belief; it is better than the truth at least, that I am relieved to be shed of her, and horrified by mine own admission.  And there are some trifling other things – messy, untidy, unresolved things that gnaw at me – I shall have to learn to live with them, as I cannot speak of them (fear not; it is not my secret but another's and my lips are locked upon it), and cannot reconcile them either; perhaps over time I shall become acclimated to this unsettled feeling, but for now it is quite uncomfortable.

I am all the more awaiting spring, my Bandobras, for not only shall it lift the grey cloud of winter that sags so heavily upon me; not only shall it bring its renewal of life and rebirth which for long ages has tugged at my soul; not only shall it herald a restoration of banquets and fêtes and assemblies, but it shall bring to me you!  How my heart has longed for you, my Little One; how dearly would I love to have you by my side!  With every feast we had, every gathering of children playing within my courtyards, with every fireside congress and late-night kitchen-raid, with every merry recounting of brave deeds and great tales, and every child that nestled in my lap to sleep, I but missed you the dearer; why when I came in last week from a boar-hunt, my hunting kit ripped and my leg bloodied by a stray tusk, I would rather have had you fussing over and scolding me than all the soothing unguents and respectful accolades I received for my wound.  (He was a grand boar too, O Little One, fat and combatant; I look forward to your rashers off him when you arrive and fix me my Second Breakfast!)  How you should have reprimanded me for my carelessness!  Though whether it would have been my leg or my clothing should have concerned you the most, who can say?

What shall I do with my betrothed's gift, with Goermeril her filly?  (I think I shall have you rename her, O Bandobras; "Red Roses" is no name for such a beast! What do you think is a suitable name for a young mare all silver-gray, with a white blaze and one white stocking?)  I had thought perhaps to give her to Tyarmayél who is chief amongst my stable-hands, for she is wise in the ways of beasts and all the kine love her; the poor little mare pines for her mistress, and though weaned is young yet, needing tender care and attention.  Perhaps I shall see to her myself – Piukka is a good steed but very self-sufficient; I might spare the time to spend with the filly.  After all it is mostly my doing she is desolate; I did give her unto a maid's care and that care was reft away, through no fault of her own.  Tyarmayél told me Laustairë spent a great deal of time with my gift to her, showering upon the filly gifts of sweet apples and tender caresses, though she assured me it was not spoilt by the attention, but rather made more affectionate than is usual for a beast of this type.  If Tyarmayél desires her I shall give it freely to her; however if it but adds to her work load I shall find some other receptor – Hísimë, perhaps; I have given to Fastred already a black yearling which he has named Fréaf, and I am sure Lady Éowyn would be delighted were her daughter to receive her own mount, for Hísimë is yet rather timid, not for a daughter of Gondor perhaps, but certainly by a Shieldmaiden's standards, and it would do the child some good to have a large beast to care for, and upon which to learn to ride.

It yet snows upon us; the sky is sullen and dark and the chill seems to seep into the very stonework of my tower – I am glad you shall not be here ere Spring for I would rather you saw my abode at its splendid best, with gold-leaf roofs casting back the rays of the sun, marble gleaming white as sea-foam, nestled in the fresh green limbs of the forest, covered in flowering ivy with fragrant herbs about its feet.  At the moment it seems more as a faery-tale castle in an old sad story, in which the Princess is under a terrible spell and the subjects beset by brooding horrors.  At least I am sure of this:  soon shall the thaw come to kiss the Princess awake, and the flowers shall again bloom, the birds sing, and the trees stir; it may not seem so to me now, with snow and ice everywhere I look, but I know in my heart spring shall come as it always has, despite heart-break, disappointment, and regret.  Yavanna after all has little regard for the feelings of such insignificant creatures as we, who crawl as ants across the surface of her gaming-board; rather she concerns herself with the greater things, the renewal of the earth, the bounty of the fields, the perseverance of the wild creatures.  So I shall hold to my breast this hope to warm me through this long terrible winter, that spring shall come, and with it not only bloom and green and sunshine, but mine own Esquire, Bandobras Took the Charitable, by whose efforts Long Bank was made safe and secure against winter's bitter chill.

Ah, now I am growing weary once more!  Perhaps I shall go down to the stables again, and seek me out Piukka for a ride in my forest; I might at least speak to the pines though they are sluggish yet.  Write to me when you receive this, my Bandobras, that I might know the Shire has not been buried in drifts but you are well.

How I miss you, and long for your coming!

Your Loving Master,

Legolas

Gimli Son of Glóin, Lord of Aglarond, Lock-Bearer and Elf-Friend, of the Nine Walkers and Beloved of Your Master, Meduseld,

To Galás of Doriath, Seneschal of Legolas Thranduilion Lord of Dol Galenehtar, Ithilien,

Greetings.

Well we have managed it at last, good Galás; we are in Rohan!  And let me tell you straight off that if ever I suggest in your hearing again to make such a journey in the dead of winter I am mad indeed, and require a good stiff rap upon my skull, to be repeated 'til I have gained reason.  And even more should I ever say I wish to take a jaunt with two Hobbits, a female Dwarf and an Elf chain me and lock me in a dungeon; I shall not be fit for public company by that stage.

Ah, I should not complain, Galás; it was not so bad, all things considered; we had two stout covered waggons and a full complement of supplies, and Hwindiö being skilled with his bow provided us with fresh game almost daily through the wilderness of Hollin.  Wood there was plenty, and water to drink (indeed though the frozen variety it served well enough), and when the drifts were too bad Fríma and Hwindiö and I broke through them with shovels until the horses could trample the snow down enough to pass.  We fitted runners upon the waggons after leaving Bree and so were spared the greater indignities of attempting to drag the waggons through tracks of mud, or hauling them over flat expanses of snowy fields; we made quite good time actually, and having arrived last night achieved our goal in under five weeks.  King Éomer had set out scouts to watch for us, so that there was a great feast prepared in the Golden Hall when we at last pulled up to the doors of Meduseld, with hot spiced wine (though Mistress Pearl would not let Bandy have any, claiming he was too young yet, much to his chagrin) and fresh bread and roasted meats fresh off the spits.  Then he led us to our baths and warm comfortable beds, and I at least slept more deeply and soundly than I have in two months' time, including our stay in Crickhollow – I may not be man-sized, but Hobbit-sized beds are far too small for the likes of me!

I am glad we had Fríma with us, for Mistress Pearl should I fear have been most uncomfortable otherwise; it was bad enough, Took though she is, for she had never attempted such a journey before, indeed she had never even left the Shire save to visit Bree on one or two occasions; Fríma however set her greatly at ease, reminding Hwindiö and me to guard our tongues as there were ladies present (indeed I am sure he stretched the limits of the rougher aspects of his vocabulary simply to incite Fríma to censure) and making sure there were adequate barriers betwixt the men-folk and the women-folk during times of rest or bathing.  They are happier now, for they have their own separate chambers, and clean clothes; I have noticed a marked increase in their goodwill since last evening.

Éomer bid us stay and rest a while, but Bandy is very impatient and insists upon coming straightway to see his Master, so we are giving the horses but one day more to rest and shall take our leave on the morrow.  If the weather holds we shall be five days out of Osgiliath. 

Watch Legolas carefully for me!  I should like to surprise him if I can.

With many thanks and deep relief,

Gimli Lord of Aglarond

Galás climbed the long stair to the high room of the tower.  It was snowing again, though it had been merely gray that morning, and he could see betimes through the glaze of ice upon the windows flitting flakes scurrying past, obscuring the view from his eyes; he knew however what he should see in any case, what he and all others had seen for many months:  a leaden gray sky, looming over white fields, white valleys, white mountain slopes, and bare dark trees crowned also in white.  It was past noon yet the stairwell was gloomy and chill, the lamplight casting wan yellow circles on the smooth marble faces of the curving walls.  The Elf shivered, more from a feeling of dull oppression than actual cold, and chafed his arms with his hands.  At last he gained the top and paused by the chamber door, head cocked like a thrush's, listening.  He could descry within the sound of his lord's voice, light and clear as always but lifeless and a little flat; he pulled a face and pushed open the large oaken door, stepping into the warmer room with noiseless tread, though his lord turned feeling his presence.

"Galás," he said, his grey eyes incurious; the seneschal bowed, and his lord nodded once, and turned again to his valet.  "Nay, Kaimelas, that is too gay; do you please dispense with this desire to clothe me in such frippery.  Rather would I be clad in the robe my Lady Mother did send unto me last year; that at least was but white and gold."

"But you know your friend Araval loves to see the bright colors," argued Kaimelas stubbornly, holding out the green robe.  "And we have seen too much white and gray about lately.  Please do you put this on, my Lord; I weary of you dressing so plain when you have so many beautiful clothes to choose from.  Folk are beginning to wonder what I am about, letting you go round like this."  And he gestured to his lord's doublet, which was a dull unadorned brown.

Legolas sighed.  "It is useless to argue with you, my friend," he said wearily, turning and holding out his arms so that his valet could clothe him.  "Very well; I shall wear green but only to protect your reputation."

"So long as you wear it I care not for your reasons," smiled Kaimelas, turning his lord and adjusting the lacings.  "And as you are being so agreeable, my Lord, I shall fit you with the red belt."

"Kaimelas," protested Legolas, "for what reason do you dress me so?  In truth I do not think Araval cares what I wear!  And I know well it matters not to Lord Faramir; he has never made any mention of the color of my robes."

"Lady Éowyn shall notice," said Galás artlessly, smiling at his lord's wry look.  He walked round his lord, who stood arms outstretched while his valet pulled and tugged on the cords and belts of the ornate beaded robe.  He stood before the hearth, warming himself at the roaring fire, and smiled at the two Elves upon the gaily colored carpeting.  "She said to me only five days ago she thought the dark gray doublet made you look pale and sickly.  Green at least gives promise of approaching spring."

"And red the blooming roses I suppose," said Legolas dryly.  "Well I cannot argue with Lady Éowyn; do what you will then, Kaimelas; I am too weary to oppose you."   Indeed he looked weary; his face was pale, and his eyes listless, and his normally merry and smiling mouth was turned down at the corners.  Galás and Kaimelas exchanged significant looks, and the seneschal returned to the chamber door, watching the two other Elves, but keeping one ear cocked to the stairs.  At last hearing movement he spoke hoping to obscure the sound with his own voice:

"It is no use, my dear Lord, to oppose those of your servants who seek only your health and happiness.  Would you deny us the pleasure of serving you, so that we might see the columbines blossom upon your cheeks once more?  We well know, O Legolas Thranduilion, that grief and regret had nearly overcome you, but you shall do neither yourself nor your people any good should you continue in this sham mummery of your old self.  We would have you eat and drink and laugh again, not sit silent upon your throne in dull vestments, mirroring the gloom without by being the gloom within.  And if you do it not for us is there no one here who might spur you to life?  Not your Lady Mother; I do not think she has had any better luck than we."

"I am not so bad as that, am I?" said Legolas with a faint smile, turning beneath Kaimelas' insistent hand as the belt was fastened about his waist.  "I have attempted these past months to swallow my sorrow and play-act being the blithe and merry lord – well, I suppose it were useless to try to fool you, who know me so well.  But I do wish all would cease to treat me as though I were made of glass – I am no hot-house lily, you know; I am strong enough to bear this."

"Strong perhaps but not quite strong enough, O Prince," smiled Galás.  "And even the mightiest and halest oak tree wilts for want of sunshine."

Legolas turned to him as though to speak, but then his ears caught the pattering sounds upon the stairs as well, and he looked to the door, puzzled.  Then all at once a small figure clad in stained and snowy traveling kit burst in, cheeks kissed scarlet by the cold and curls matted wetly upon his head.  "Master!" he cried, his voice filled with joy; he flung himself at the Elven Lord, laughing. Legolas for himself turned quite white, his eyes wide and staring; he dropped to his knees and with a look of profound disbelief took the Hobbit into the circle of his arms.

"Bandobras!" he whispered, pressing the small figure close to his own.  "How can this be?  Whence came you?  Galás – "  But the sound of heavy tread upon his threshold caused him to turn, and there stood Gimli, peeling off icy and dripping gauntlets, his beard matted with snow.  "Gimli!" said Legolas in amazement.  "How did you – why – "

Gimli only looked at him with raised eyebrows, and when Legolas turned to Galás and Kaimelas they were both grinning impudently.  Bandobras tipped his head back in his Master's embrace and said breathlessly, "I have run all the way from the front gate up the stairs to your tower – it is an awful long way, Master!  Why couldn't you have put your rooms closer to the entrance?  It's pretty inconvenient the way it's set up now."

"Bandobras!"  Legolas' voice broke, and wrapping his arms about the Hobbit's form buried his face in the cold wet wool at Bandobras' shoulder, overcome with relief and heedless of the dripping snow upon his fine green robes.  Gimli stepped toward them, his face suffused with satisfaction; he leant down and kissed Legolas upon the crown of his head, then as an afterthought kissed Bandobras as well.   Legolas looked up through the wet dark curls at his friend, his eyes shining with tears.

"Thank you, Gimli," he whispered, and at that moment a pale beam of sunshine streamed into the room.

 *FIN*

August 30, 2004

There have been a couple of reviewers who have wondered with trepidation whether I am "slashing" Legolas.  I thought I'd best answer these queries publicly, so that all my readers understand why I'm writing what I'm writing, and why I'm writing it in this particular fashion.

First of all, I do not slash Tolkien.  (I'd like to say I don't slash at all, but sadly, I do take David Eddings' characters out to play on occasion, as anyone who's visited my page at AFF.net knows!)  I have been reading LotR since I was ten and consider the Great Professor to be one of my favorite authors; also I know that he, as a devout Catholic and a rather conservative fellow, would have been appalled to know how many times his "fans" have put these beloved characters in such compromising homosexual positions.  I have a great deal of respect for ol' J.R.R. and wouldn't dare risk incurring his post-mortem wrath should I have Legolas start making goo-goo eyes at an underage Hobbit.  (And let me add my response to that thought right now:  ICK!)  It's true, in one of my AU stories I made Faramir gay, but it wasn't a slash story, it was definitely het, and most certainly far from canon; also, within the confines of the "Pottymouth" universe a gay Faramir made a lot more sense than a straight one.

Secondly, I have attempted (and only marginally achieved) an Ivanhoe-esque style to "The Green Knight" and its sequel; the flowery language and declarations of love between those of the same gender fall within the reasonable bounds of this genre.  And let's face it; Tolkien did the same thing, didn't he?  Aragorn kissed Boromir, Sam kissed Frodo (and admitted he loved him on top of that), and I'm fairly certain he didn't mean for his readers to assume Aragorn, Boromir, Sam and Frodo were homosexual.  We have gotten away from using the word "love" in a non-sexual sense; I would rather we used the old Latin terms (based on Hebraic philosophy) of agape, phileo, and eros.  Legolas as an Elf "loved" the entire earth (agape) and "loved" Aragorn and Gimli (phileo), but Tolkien never hinted he "loved" any women (eros).  So when I'm using the word "love" between Legolas and Gimli, or Legolas and Bandobras, I'm using the word "phileo" and not "eros," which, as Americans (as I'm assuming most of my readers are), automatically assume the word "love" implies.

As an addendum to this second point, let me say that, as an American who has traveled around the world extensively, and lived in Europe for a time, I have formed certain opinions of Americans and their views of sex and physical contact.  We seem to be both terrified and fascinated by our sexuality, and it pervades all our thinking, coloring every phrase and casual kiss we see.  My thoughts on this are, personally, that this is a waste of perfectly good emotional expression; sex does not equal love, nor does love equal sex.  Do you love your mother?  You ought to.  Do you tell her you love her?  Well … most Americans do not.  Do you love your best friend?  Do you tell him/her?  Why not?  Are you afraid of seeming "gay" by saying such a thing?  It's a pity we're so afraid of others' opinions we won't express our affections for another!  Kissing and embracing fall into the same category; the French bisou is a splendid example.  We Americans are very casual and informal; this is good up to a point, but it does make us awfully clumsy around each other.  The French walk up to each other, kiss each other in greeting, and no one thinks anything of it – it is simply a formal way to greet a beloved friend.  Men kiss men, women kiss women, men kiss women, women kiss men.  Does it lead to making out?  No – that would be improper.  The kiss is customary, and frankly a charming way to indicate to someone else you consider them a good friend.  For those of you who read "The Green Knight," remember that Baranil and Legolas kissed in Chapter 33; no one seemed to be offended by that, and I certainly would have been surprised if anyone had – the kiss was ceremonial; Baranil and Legolas had been living and working and fighting side by side for centuries, and it was a perfectly proper way for the Head of the King's Militia to greet the Crown Prince.

That said, let me reassure my readers I am in no way slashing Legolas and Bandobras!  They love each other very much, and miss each other, and want to be with each other, but it is the affection between a lord and his esquire – much like the love Frodo and Sam shared – and it does not involve their sexuality in any way.  I apologize for any confusion, and hope this clears the air somewhat!

Thank you for reading – I hope you're enjoying it!

Le Rouret