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Tangled Web  by daw the minstrel

I borrow characters and settings from Tolkien, but they are his, not mine. I gain only the enriched imaginative life that I assume he intended me to gain.

Many thanks to Nilmandra for beta reading this chapter.

*******

5.  The Wedding Feast

“You see?” murmured Annael, his mouth close to Legolas’s ear. “The one who was injured is walking now.”

From his perch in an oak tree, Legolas studied the Dwarves.  The Dwarf who had previously lain in the makeshift litter was indeed now on his feet, although he was complaining loudly about how tired his legs were.  Given how long it had been since he had used them, Legolas believed that the Dwarf was probably speaking no more than the truth. With typical Dwarven gruffness, however, the others were withholding all sympathy.

The Dwarves made their slow way past the watching Elves. Legolas waited until they had disappeared before he sighed and then turned to speak to Annael.  “How sure are you about the distance they will travel today?”

Annael shrugged. “I cannot be sure, of course, but at the pace they have been traveling, they will be near the clearing where Tonduil’s wedding is to take place when they stop to camp for the night.”

“They camp on the path,” put in Sinnarn from just behind Annael.  His tone was both incredulous and amused.  “And they are unbelievably slow, Legolas.  They are covering no more than six or seven miles in a day.  That surely cannot be natural. I wonder what they are doing and where they are going?”

Annael turned to him with an indulgent smile, and Legolas thought, not for the first time, that Sinnarn was making progress in his campaign to win Annael’s regard.  “Perhaps you would like to follow them and introduce yourself?” Annael teased.

Sinnarn looked sheepish.  “I would like to talk to them,” he confessed.

Annael smiled sympathetically.  “My adar used to speak to them occasionally when they lived in Erebor and he had to go to Dale on some mission or other.  He always admired their skill in crafting weapons, toys, and all manner of goods, and he claimed that while they were brusque and guarded in their manner toward him, they were not usually actively hostile.  So you might enjoy talking to them.”

Legolas held his tongue but found he was less optimistic than Annael or Sinnarn about what would result from an encounter between the Dwarves and any of Thranduil’s people.  His father’s suspicion of Dwarves was deep and automatic.  Legolas knew that Ithilden was more open to them and thus was not surprised that Sinnarn was.  But he, himself, felt more like Thranduil and was uncomfortable at the idea of having anything to do with them.  He did not wish them harm; he simply did not want to associate with them.

He brought his mind back to the question of where the Dwarves would spend the night.  Elven weddings were deeply private affairs.  They were enactments of the primitive link that Elves had with the One, with Arda, and through bonding, with one another. The words of the vows were sacred and were carefully guarded from the ears of mortals.  It would be unthinkable to have the Dwarves intrude upon tonight’s wedding feast.

“What do you think the chances are that they will approach the clearing?” he asked.

Annael and Sinnarn looked at one another. “They have not left the path so far,” Annael said slowly. “As Sinnarn told you, they even camp on it.  That would suggest that they will leave the feast in peace.”

Legolas nodded.  He would report the Dwarves’ likely whereabouts to Todith, whose concern was whether they were a threat and who thus would be inclined to leave them alone, since they showed no signs of being dangerous. But he would also tell Thranduil, who guarded his people’s rituals with the same care that Todith exercised over their safety.  His father would be the one who ultimately decided what they should do.

“How about spiders?” he asked. “Have you seen any more in that area?”

“No,” Annael answered.  “We were going to make a final sweep of the area after we finished here.  Then the matter is in the hands of those on night duty.”

“I will go with you,” Legolas said, and the three of them slid to the ground and made their way to where Beliond and Nithron waited with the horses.  Neither keeper had been interested in taking yet another look at the Dwarves. Legolas had already found that one advantage of serving in the Home Guard was that, in its relatively safe territory, Beliond was less likely to be breathing down his neck all the time.

“We are going to take one more look for spiders,” Legolas told them, and they all mounted and rode northeast, scanning the trees with automatic vigilance as they went.  They soon reached the clearing, where Elves were busily at work fixing torches to the trees and hanging lanterns from the branches.  A huge fire pit had been dug, and haunches of venison had already been set over them to roast. By the hour of star opening, when the feast would begin, they would be golden and succulent. Legolas’s mouth watered at the thought.  He was looking forward to tonight’s celebration.

“I cannot believe that Tonduil is bonding with Aerlinn,” he marveled.  “Do you remember throwing snowballs at her, Annael?”

Annael laughed. “I do,” he confessed. “But either she has improved since then or I have, for I must say I like her now.  And Tonduil seems very happy. Bonding will be good for him.”  Legolas knew that Annael was content in his own marriage and was inclined to think that other people would feel the same way.

Sinnarn cleared his throat. The topic of bonding was making him nervous.  Legolas took pity on him.  “Split up and circle the clearing,” he ordered. “Use the trees and check for a thousand yards out from the edge.  We want to be sure this area is clear before we turn it over to Amdir and the night patrol.” They nodded, and Sinnarn, Nithron, and Annael started in one direction, while Legolas and Beliond went in the other. Half an hour later, they met on the other side of the clearing.

“Nothing,” Annael reported, and Legolas nodded in satisfaction. He and Beliond had also seen no sign of spiders.

The sound of approaching horses drew his attention, and he turned to see Thranduil riding toward the clearing with two guards right behind him.  The king slid from his horse and approached them.  All five of them put their hands over their hearts and bowed.

Thranduil looked fondly at his grandson but spoke to Legolas.  “Is Sinnarn nearly done for the day?  His naneth is looking for him.” In Ithilden’s absence, Sinnarn was going to escort Alfirin to the feast. Sinnarn made a small face at Thranduil’s words, which made him sound rather like a stray elfling. The others all smothered grins. 

Legolas took the hint and turned to his companions.  “You are all dismissed. I will report to Todith.”  They all gave casual salutes to him and more formal ones to Thranduil, and then even Beliond took his leave.

“How do matters look for tonight?” Thranduil asked.

“We have seen no sign of spiders,” Legolas answered.  “There is, however, a potential problem with the Dwarves.”  He explained the situation to his father, whose face darkened into a frown on hearing it.

“I might have known the Naugrim would be trouble,” said Thranduil in disgust when Legolas had finished. “I want no unnecessary contact made with them, but mortals cannot be allowed near the wedding feast.”

“What would you like me to do, my lord?” Legolas asked. He shared his father’s frustration. It was much more difficult to know what to do about the Dwarves than the spiders.  He could hardly arrest them, for they had caused no harm so far.

Thranduil thought for a moment.  “I will take care of it,” he finally said and turned to look at the clearing. “Wait here,” he ordered, and then, with no more ado, he began to pace along the clearing’s edge, circling it.  Legolas caught his breath.  He knew what was about to happen.

To Legolas, his father looked no different than he always did, with his long, determined stride and his erect bearing, but as he passed along the border of the clearing, the trees began to sway gently toward him, and their leaves fluttered as if a breeze were passing through them.  Legolas felt a tingling sensation, as if some powerful herb were making its way through his body.  The Elves who were working in the clearing must have felt it too, because they paused in their work and turned to look silent and wide-eyed at the king as he made his way around them.

Thranduil rejoined Legolas, looking satisfied, and after a second or two, one of the Elves in the clearing called “A blessing on you, my lord,” and they all resumed their work.

“Todith tells me that you are doing well as his lieutenant, Legolas,” Thranduil said, as casually as if he had just taken a stroll to view the summer wildflowers.  “And I have been pleased by your handling of both the spiders and the Dwarves.”  With an effort, Legolas shook off his slightly dazed feeling and realized that his father was praising him.  He flushed with pleasure. “Ithilden will be very satisfied when he hears,” Thranduil went on. “And I am proud of you.”

“Thank you, Adar,” Legolas said, and he and his father smiled one another.

“I am going to finish my afternoon ride,” Thranduil said, turning back toward his horse. “I will see you at home. Do not be late.”

“No, Adar,” Legolas said, unable to suppress a grin.  There was no one like his father for making him feel like a competent adult at one moment and a wayward child the next.

***

Legolas speared a bit of the roasted venison, put it in his mouth, and closed his eyes, the better to enjoy it as he chewed.  Next to him, Celuwen laughed softly.  “You behave as if you have not been fed in a week,” she observed.

He smiled at his sister-in-law.  “Nothing tastes as good as venison that has been roasted out of doors,” he observed. And that was true. But it was also true that he had been transferred to the Home Guard from the Southern Patrol only two months before, and he was still marveling at the small comforts that home provided.  He would not tell Celuwen this, though.  To do so would only add to her dismay at the way Eilian lived most of the time.

“Tonduil looks nervous,” Annael observed from Legolas’s other side.  Legolas looked toward the head table where Tonduil sat next to Aerlinn, with their parents on either side of them.  Thranduil sat at the table’s head in his crown of berries and red leaves.  Alfirin and Sinnarn sat at that table too, but as more distant relatives by marriage, Legolas and Celuwen had been able to sit where they liked, and they had joined Annael and his wife and daughter.

Legolas regarded Tonduil, whose face was flushed and whose plate of food appeared to be untouched.  As Legolas watched, Aerlinn laid her hand over his which was resting on the table, and he visibly jumped.  Legolas exchanged a glance with Annael, whose mouth was tightly closed and whose eyes were gleaming, and suddenly, both of them burst out laughing.  “Poor Tonduil,” Legolas gasped.  “Perhaps we should circulate among the tables and urge people to eat more quickly.”

“Hush, you two,” Beliniel admonished, but she was smiling too, and Annael raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers.  He leaned toward her and whispered something in her ear that made her face go almost as pink as Tonduil’s.  “Stop that,” she said and then spoiled the effect by giggling.

Emmelin rolled her eyes at her parents. “You two should be setting a good example for me,” she declared, and Annael and Beliniel laughed.

“Sinnarn is looking this way,” Beliniel told her, and Emmelin glanced at the head table and then quickly looked away.  Legolas looked too; his nephew had indeed turned toward them.  “He is very handsome, do you not think, Emmelin?” Beliniel teased.

Emmelin gave a small laugh and slid her eyes cautiously toward Legolas and Celuwen.  “No more so than many others,” she said a little saucily.  Her parents laughed, and Legolas again thought that Sinnarn was making progress with Annael, although possibly not with Emmelin.

There was something about a wedding that seemed to rouse the desire to be paired and to see others paired too, Legolas thought wistfully. He scanned the eating, laughing crowd, as he automatically scanned any crowd in which he found himself, looking at the maidens to see if any of them might have the kind of wild, untidy curls that somehow seemed to mark beauty for him.  On his right, he heard Celuwen sigh softly, and he turned to find her absent-mindedly twisting her opal studded wedding ring and looking at Tonduil and Aerlinn.  Legolas put his arm comfortingly around her shoulders.  “You must promise to dance with me later,” he said, hoping to cheer her.  She smiled wanly at him.

A sudden, confused noise came from the south side of the clearing.  For a moment, Legolas’s vision was blocked by one of Thranduil’s minstrels who had been making a circuit of the tables and had stopped directly in front of them. Then the minstrel moved, and for another moment, Legolas froze, for he could not take in what he was seeing.  Then he leapt to his feet in dismay.  Across the clearing from him, the entire party of Dwarves had burst out of the trees and was staggering into the light of the fire and torches.

Legolas was starting around the table, his hand on the hilt of his long knife in its ornamental scabbard, when he suddenly realized that something was amiss with the Dwarves’ behavior.  They had all raised their hands and begun to walk tentatively about as if groping their way in the dark.  “Dori! Nori! Ori!” shouted one, and Legolas hesitated.  Was the Dwarf invoking a spell?  As Legolas stared, the minstrel jumped out of the way of one of them and the Dwarf went on past him, as if he had not seen him. And now they were all shouting to one another in loud, rough voices that drowned out any other sound in the clearing.  Not that there were many sounds.  The Wood-elves sat or stood staring at the Dwarves in utter bewilderment.

Legolas glanced at his father, who was watching the intruders with narrowed eyes and a small, triumphant smile, and suddenly it was clear to him exactly what had caused the Dwarves’ apparent blindness.  He felt a surge of amused admiration for his father.  Then Thranduil turned toward Legolas and flicked his finger toward the Dwarves. His meaning was clear: Get them out of here.

At that moment, the night patrol, led by Amdir, came rushing in and then stopped in confusion at the sight of the Dwarves fumbling about blindly and shouting while the wedding guests dodged out of their way.  Legolas made his way hastily toward them, and at the sight of him approaching, Amdir flinched and then seemed to decide to act now and ask questions later.  He threw Legolas an apologetic glance, and he and the other members of the patrol began wordlessly nudging the Dwarves out of the clearing.  The Dwarves seemed to think that the Elves were solid obstructions and turned aside when they encountered them.

Legolas joined in, taking grim satisfaction in blocking the way of a long-bearded Dwarf in a red hood.  He and the other warriors gradually herded the Dwarves back into the forest.  It was a more difficult task than he had anticipated because there were so many of them and, in their blindness, they kept running into trees, Elves, and one another.

“What happened?” Legolas demanded of Amdir, the first time he was near him. He kept his voice low, although it was doubtful that the Dwarves would have heard anything over their own shouts.

“I am sorry, Legolas,” Amdir murmured hurriedly. “We have been patrolling the whole area, watching for spiders and keeping an eye on the Dwarves, and suddenly the obnoxious little diggers just left the path and came rushing this way.”  A Dwarf in a green hood came straight toward them, but before he could reach them, he tripped over a log and landed with a loud cry.

“They are noisy enough to wake every creature in the forest,” said Legolas irritably.  His father was unlikely to be pleased about this little episode, he though vexedly.

For another quarter of an hour, they tried to steer the Dwarves back toward the path with very little success. The best they were able to manage was to maneuver them into a small, tight group, where they clutched at one another in pathetic gratitude for the contact and gradually quieted down a little.  Legolas was glad to see that the child was safely tucked among them.  The Dwarves began to lie down, as if intending to sleep.

“Shall we get them up?” murmured Amdir doubtfully.

“Leave them there,” said Legolas in disgust.  “They should regain their sight eventually, and they can find their way back to the path then.” He hesitated, wondering if he should stay to help keep an eye on the Dwarves.

Amdir apparently noticed his doubts.  “We will watch them,” he said contritely. “Go back to the feast.”

Legolas threw him a reproving look that made him flinch a little. Explanations would have to be made in the morning.  “See that you do,” he said.  “Stay in the trees though, in case they awaken.  The less contact we have with them, the better.”

“I could not agree more,” Amdir answered fervently.

When Legolas returned to the wedding, he looked toward Thranduil and was not surprised to see him beckon.  He approached his father and bowed.  “We have moved them away from the clearing, my lord.”

“Good,” said Thranduil and then waved his hand in dismissal.  Legolas grimaced a little. The tight lines around his father’s mouth spoke quite clearly of how annoyed he was at the interruption.

And interruption it had been. Between the surprise of the Dwarves’ arrival and the subsequent noise and confusion, the feast had been disrupted quite thoroughly, and people were just settling down to eat again.  As Legolas walked the length of the head table to return to his own seat, Sinnarn suddenly grasped his arm.  “Shall I go and help the night patrol?” he asked, his eyes shining. He had been craving an excuse to meet the Dwarves.

Behind his nephew, Legolas could see Alfirin opening her mouth to protest. “That will not be necessary,” he put in hastily, and Alfirin relaxed.

“Sit down, iôn-nín,” she said, and Sinnarn reluctantly returned to her side.

Legolas was just starting back to his own place again when he nearly ran into Tonduil, who was returning to his seat, clutching Aerlinn by the hand.  They had had to move to get out of the way of a wandering Dwarf.  Tonduil’s face was pale now, and he was drawing deep, shaky breaths. Legolas blinked and then suddenly laughed.  He clapped Tonduil on the shoulder.  “Do not worry,” he said blithely. “We will get you married yet, perhaps even tonight.”

Tonduil gave him a sickly smile, and he and Aerlinn sat down again.

Legolas returned to his place between Celuwen and Annael. Annael looked at him thoughtfully. “Did your adar do that?” he asked.

“I think he did,” Legolas agreed.  The two of them locked eyes for a moment and suddenly both broke into uncontrollable laughter.  “They did look funny!” Legolas gasped.  “Dori! Nori! Ori!”  He looked to see Thranduil sending a disapproving look in their direction. Annael stuffed his fist in his mouth, and Beliniel threw her napkin over his head.

“You two are worse than elflings,” she said in disgust.

“Here,” said Celuwen, putting a berry tart on Legolas’s plate.  She looked amused too.  “Settle down and eat this before you get into trouble.”  Legolas took her advice and fought to bring his face under control.  Thranduil was right of course. This was a sacred occasion.

At last, the wedding party rose from the head table and made their way to the center of the clearing where the blessings would be spoken and the young couple would pledge themselves to one another for all of time.  The words would be spoken by Tonduil’s and Aerlinn’s parents, but Thranduil would stand with them as a sign of the larger community in which this pair would now have a place. The crowd grew quiet and everyone’s attention turned toward the little group.

Suddenly a movement to his right caught Legolas’s attention, and he turned his head quickly to see the dwarf child step into the clearing and, to Legolas’s astonishment, fall over as if in a dead faint.  And then, from the fringe of the trees, the Dwarves started shouting once again. Legolas leapt to his feet and started toward the child, and everyone turned to see what was happening.  By the time Legolas got anywhere near the child, several other Elves were crouched around him.  “What is wrong with him?” he asked anxiously.  He could scarcely hear himself speak amid the clamor the other Dwarves were raising nearby.

“Do not be concerned,” came Thranduil’s cool voice, and Legolas looked up from where he was crouched near the child’s head to see that his father had approached, although he had stopped at some distance from them as if not wanting to draw too near the Dwarves.  Behind him, the wedding party had scattered to get a better view of what was happening.  Tonduil looked as if he might be going to grab them all by their collars and drag them back.

“He is uninjured,” said Thranduil. “He is simply deeply asleep.”  His lip curled as he glanced very briefly at the small form on the ground. “What kind of people send a child to do their work for them?” he asked scornfully.  “Put him where the others will find him, Legolas, and then find out how the guards allowed the Naugrim to get so near us again.”  His tone suggested how very unhappy he was at what he probably saw as the guards’ ineptitude, and the look he gave Legolas made it clear exactly whom he held responsible.  As Legolas hurried to obey, he thought rather grimly that he had some questions for the guards himself.

What odd children Dwarves have, he thought as he gently picked up the sleeping Dwarf-child who looked like nothing so much as a small adult.  He started toward the trees at the clearing’s eastern edge, where the other Dwarves were making an ear-splitting racket.   To his complete lack of surprise, he found them once again milling around with their hands extended, shouting what he now realized were one another’s names.  His temper rose when found that only two guards were present, running about looking harassed as they tried to steer the Dwarves away from the clearing. Both of them flinched when they saw the look on Legolas’s face.

With the child in his arms, Legolas hesitated for a moment.  Then, carefully avoiding all the Dwarves, he worked his way toward where one of those in the purple hoods was stumbling about and laid the small creature down nearby.  He thought this was the Dwarf with whom he had seen the child walking, the one he assumed was the child’s mother.  He stepped back out of the way to watch and be certain that the child was found.

The Dwarves gradually began to locate and cling to one another as they had the first time, but none of them had yet found the child.  “Hi! hobbit, confusticate you, where are you?” a nearby Dwarf shouted.  “Hobbit” must be the child’s name, Legolas concluded.  Then, to his relief, the child’s mother tripped over him and, after a second, realized that she had found her son.

Suddenly Amdir appeared at Legolas’s elbow.  Legolas grabbed his arm and dragged him far enough away that the Dwarves would not hear them.  “Where have you been?” Legolas hissed. “Where is the rest of the night patrol?”

Amdir blew out an exasperated breath.  “Elorfin thought he saw signs of spiders, and I thought that was more important than watching these greedy little beasts, so I took most of the patrol to check on the report.”

Legolas’s breath caught. Spiders! All they needed was spiders at Tonduil’s wedding feast.  “Did you find anything?” he demanded sharply.

“No,” Amdir shook his head, “but I think we should look again in the morning.”

“We should look again now,” Legolas retorted.  The noise of the Dwarves was fading as the two guards managed to herd them farther from the clearing.  Legolas rubbed his hand over the back of his neck in frustration.  “You made the right decision, Amdir.  Leave the same two guards with the Dwarves.  I doubt if they will cause any more trouble tonight.”

Amdir’s shoulders relaxed a little.  “I cannot believe there are really spiders about,” he said. “We have checked so carefully.”

Legolas frowned. “I wonder if the noise of the Dwarves has attracted them or perhaps stirred up some who were nesting.”

Amdir shrugged. “Perhaps so,” he conceded, “although that would mean the spiders are interesting in dining on the Dwarves, and I would think they would have to be awfully hungry to do that.”

“Check again anyway,” Legolas insisted, and Amdir went off to join the rest of the patrol while Legolas braced himself to report to Thranduil.

When he reentered the clearing, he found the guests still milling about, talking to one another in some indignation about the Dwarves, who had been heartless enough to use one of their own children to interrupt the bonding ceremony.  Thranduil stood next to a clearly upset Alfirin, his mouth pressed in a thin line.  “Well?” he demanded when Legolas approached.

Legolas glanced at Alfirin, who looked at him anxiously.  He hesitated. He did not want rumors of spiders sweeping through the feast.  She sighed impatiently. “I will go and see if I can calm Tonduil down,” she said and walked off toward where Legolas could see Tonduil pacing in the center of the clearing.

Legolas turned to his father.  “There may be a problem,” he said, and then, as Thranduil’s brows drew together, he hastily added, “but the night patrol is dealing with it.”  In as few words as possible, he told his father what had happened. “The night patrol found no spiders,” he finished, “but they are still searching, and they have moved the Dwarves farther off.”

A flush had crept up Thranduil’s neck as Legolas spoke.  “If it was not the Naugrim who stirred up the spiders, I will be very much surprised,” he said tightly. “I should have insisted that the Home Guard seize them when they were first seen.”

Legolas stood unhappily, saying nothing.  His father had always been difficult on the subject of Dwarves.  With much effort, Ithilden had convinced him to trade with them, but Legolas suspected that when Ithilden returned, he would find that much of his work had been undone by this incident.

Thranduil glanced over to where Alfirin had taken Tonduil’s hand and was speaking soothingly to him.  The king shook himself slightly, obviously trying to shed all thoughts of the Dwarves so that he might attend to the event that should have been taking place in the clearing.  “We will have the ceremony now,” he declared in a voice that drew everyone’s attention and a look of deep gratitude from Tonduil.

Spurred by the king’s tone and Tonduil’s urging, the wedding party quickly gathered again in the middle of the clearing, and the guests moved to stand in a ring around them, not bothering to seek their seats again.  Silence settled and wrapped itself around them for a moment.  And then, her face both solemn and joyful, Aerlinn’s mother took her hand, as Tonduil’s father took his.  In a movement whose significance would last until the end of time, the parents joined the hands of the pair, who were staring at one another in breathless wonder.

And suddenly, Legolas’s worries about the farce of the Dwarves’ intrusion faded away, along with his fears about the possible presence of spiders. He looked at Tonduil and Aerlinn and knew that his father’s magic was nothing compared to the magic that these two had for one another.

In voices filled with reverence, the parents spoke the words of the blessings.  When they were finished, Aerlinn pulled the silver betrothal ring off the index finger of her right hand and handed it to Tonduil, who gave it to his father for temporary safekeeping in exchange for a slender ring of gold, which he slipped onto the finger Aerlinn had bared.  Then he, too, returned his betrothal ring and accepted one of gold from her.  For a second, they stood, holding hands, and then Tonduil looked up with a grin, and the crowd burst into a cheer.  The minstrels began to play their harps, and the guests started to sing, as the two sets of parents led the couple away.  The feast was over for them, but their obvious hunger for one another would soon be satisfied.

Legolas sought out Celuwen, where she stood a little to one side, and dragged her into a long line of dancers who were snaking their way around the clearing, singing and stopping occasionally to drink some of the excellent wine that Thranduil had provided.  He caught a glimpse of his father, looking reasonably serene as he bent his head to hear something that Alfirin was saying.  And under the influence of the music, and dancing, and wine, Legolas relaxed a little.  Nothing irrevocable had happened after all, and he would deal with his father in the morning.

He glanced toward Thranduil again, and suddenly, his breath caught, for to his horror, not ten feet away from Thranduil, a Dwarf stepped into the clearing and, like the child before him, fell over in what was presumably the same sort of deep sleep.  Thranduil rose, his face scarlet, and the music and singing faltered to a halt.  In the woods, the shouts of the Dwarves could once again be heard.

“Excuse me,” Legolas apologized to Celuwen, and then he rushed toward where the Dwarf lay. Thranduil stood over the fallen intruder, but everyone else had backed away, clearly aware of the wrath that the king was barely managing to contain.  “It is their leader,” Legolas said, recognizing the Dwarf by the elegant sword strapped to his hip.

“Is it now?” asked Thranduil, his eyes narrowing.

Legolas looked up to find Sinnarn hovering just behind Thranduil. He motioned to his nephew, intending that the two of them would drag the Dwarf from the clearing and return him to his raucous companions, as they had done with the child.

“Leave him,” Thranduil snapped.  Legolas turned to him in surprise. “He will keep well enough,” said Thranduil grimly, and Legolas’s heart sank.  His father’s patience, never very plentiful, had plainly run out.

“By your leave, my lord,” Legolas said, “I will go and help the night patrol.”

“Do so,” Thranduil said in clipped tones.

And for the third time, Legolas set off to see what was afoot with the members of the Home Guard on duty that night.  They would not be on duty for much longer, he noted. Dawn would soon be slipping over the horizon.  As before, he found the hapless guards and set about helping them to drive the Dwarves away.   By the time they were done, the feast was over, and he had no excuse to avoid going home and hearing what his father might have to say.  Somehow, he did not think “I am proud of you, Legolas” would be part of it.

*******

A few bits of the Dwarves’ speech are taken from Chapter VIII of The Hobbit, “Flies and Spiders.”  The notion that the words of the Elven wedding blessing were kept from mortals is based on a sentence in “Laws and Customs Among the Eldar”:  “For this blessing there was a solemn form, but no mortal has heard it….”





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