REBUKE: Animadversions

SUMMARY: On the eve of the Fellowship’s departure from Imladris, Legolas seeks advice from another and gets more than he bargained for. This one is for Nina who requested this scenario. Merry Christmas, meldenya.

MEFA 2009: Third Place: Later Age Elves (Drama)

****

Legolas came into one of the lower gardens of Imladris to find Lord Glorfindel already there. The golden-haired balrog slayer and Captain of the Guards of Imladris stood in a relaxed position, staring pensively at an oak tree that only now was losing its golden leaves to the encroaching winter. He was not attired in his usual garb of leathers and hauberk, for he was not on duty. Instead, he wore a knee-length tunic of soft grey velvet with a high collar and sleeves that gathered at the wrists. His leggings were grey wool and tucked into soft ankle house-boots. A deep rose velvet robe, open in the front, with silver interlaced embroidery on the shoulders and flowing sleeves, its hem brushing the tops of his boots, completed the ensemble. Grey squirrel fur formed a wide collar on the robe and lined the inside. His hair was carefully braided and a simple circlet of mithril graced his head. He looked every inch the Elf-lord that he was. Legolas, wearing typical Silvan green and grey hunting garb, felt woefully underdressed.

As silently as he had entered the garden the Captain of the Guards of Imladris still heard him and, turning, offered him a warm smile. Legolas, for all that he had known Glorfindel his entire life, still felt a thrill of something undefinable course through his fëa at that smile. There was such a degree of acceptance to it that always stunned him; that and the ethereal light of Valinor that shone through Glorfindel’s eyes. He found himself bowing as if to his own adar, prince though he was.

"You wished to see me, Thranduilion?" Glorfindel’s musical voice echoed softly through the garden already shrouded in winter sleep.

"Yes, Lord Glorfindel," Legolas said. "I... I find I am in need of counsel and would have your thoughts."

For a moment Glorfindel did not speak, merely gazing upon the Sinda as if gauging his worth. Legolas did his best not to squirm. He loved and respected Glorfindel, both as a friend and a mentor, but sometimes this particular Elf unnerved him in ways that not even Lord Elrond could. Finally, Glorfindel made a gesture of invitation. "Let us walk."

The two of them strolled through the garden in companionable silence until Glorfindel turned to Legolas with a quizzical look. "It always helps to vocalize one’s thoughts. I gather you are troubled, but until you speak, I cannot advise you."

Legolas found himself blushing. "Goheno nin, hîr nîn," he said. "I was trying to gather my thoughts in some kind of order before speaking."

Glorfindel nodded. "When you are ready, then, Thranduilion."

Legolas stopped on the path, taking a deep breath. Glorfindel waited patiently, as if he had all the ages of Arda at his disposal. "We leave tomorrow night on the Quest," the Mirkwood Elf finally said. "I have watched the others who will be my companions these two months and I confess I am no more sure of them than when first we met at the Council."

"By ‘them’ I assume you mean the Periain?" Glorfindel ventured.

Legolas sighed and nodded. "Them... and the Dwarf."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at that last admission. "The Elves of Mirkwood have been dealing with the Dwarves of Erebor for nigh on seventy years now. Though such years are of no account for us Firstborn, still it is more than enough time for even stubborn Sindar to understand them." He gave Legolas a small smile to take the sting of the rebuke from his words.

Legolas stiffened nonetheless. "I have had little to do with the Naugrim," he replied, stressing the pronoun.

"Ah..." was Glorfindel’s only reply. For a long moment Noldorin Elf-lord and Sindarin prince stared at one another across a chasm of cultural and historical differences. Finally, Glorfindel resumed his walk and Legolas was forced to join him. "Putting aside all that, let us deal first with the Periain. What exactly would you know of them that you already have not discovered on your own?"

"They are... silly creatures," Legolas said, then raised a hand to still Glorfindel’s response. "Do not mistake me. They are amusing and delightful and I find it difficult to be serious around them and therein lies my dilemma."

"And what exactly is your dilemma?" Glorfindel asked, canting his head to the left as he contemplated the younger ellon.

"We are about to go on a Quest into the very heart of Darkness," Legolas replied soberly. "Except perhaps for Iorhael, I cannot think these... creatures can ever do anything but bring danger to the rest of us. The youngest one, especially, I fear, does not recognize or understand the gravity of what we are about."

Glorfindel pursed his lips. "Then you are seeing only the surface of things, child," he said.

Legolas raised an imperious eyebrow, reminding Glorfindel, not so much of Thranduil, as of Oropher. "I have not been a child for quite some time, hîr nîn," the Sindarin prince said between gritted teeth.

Glorfindel could not help but laugh, the sound joyous and full of bells. "Oh Legolas, the very way you said that tells me that you are indeed a child. No, mistake me not. I do not say this in disparagement, but in truth. You little realize just how young you are, if not in age, as even we Elves measure such things, then certainly in outlook."

Now Legolas was confused. He gave Glorfindel a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

Glorfindel took the younger ellon by the arm and led him to a stone bench where he indicated they should sit. For a moment silence stretched between them and then Glorfindel began to speak in soft tones, almost as if he were reminiscing to himself.

"Bilbo was not the first Perian I ever met, though he is the one I’ve known the longest. I remember when he first appeared in Imladris with Mithrandir and thirteen Dwarves."

Legolas nodded. "I have, of course, heard the story from Bilbo’s own lips when he visited us for a time after the Battle of Five Armies. It always amazed me that Lord Elrond would ever welcome the Naugrim into this vale. Elves and Dwarves simply do not get along."

"Lord Elrond has ever opened Imladris to any in need of succor," Glorfindel stated quietly, "so long as they harbored no evil intent within them. However, let us forget about that for now. We, or rather, I was talking about Bilbo and our first meeting." He paused for a moment, a slight smile on his lips as the memory came to the fore. "He was the most unlikely burglar I had ever seen, and I had my doubts about Mithrandir’s choice and told him so...."

****

Glorfindel cornered Mithrandir before they went to the Hall of Fire. It was the evening after the Wizard had led thirteen Dwarves and one sorry looking Halfling to Imladris. Lord Elrond, gracious host that he was, had held a welcoming feast for them and now all were making their way to the Hall of Fire for the evening’s entertainment. This was the first time Glorfindel had had a chance to speak with the Wizard alone. Mithrandir gave the Noldo an enquiring look. "Is there something on your mind, Lord Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel motioned with his head towards Elrond’s library and with a nod from Mithrandir the two made their way there. If any noticed, they gave no indication. Once alone, Glorfindel turned to Mithrandir, his expression serious.

"What, by all that’s holy, are you playing at, Mithrandir, bringing a Perian on this little jaunt of yours?"

"As I told Elrond...."

"I know what you told him," Glorfindel interrupted angrily. "I was there, remember? A burglar? He’s not a burglar, he’s a gentlehobbit who has probably never had to burgle anything in his life."

"Well, except for mushrooms," the Wizard said with a slight smile.

Glorfindel raised his hands and rolled his eyes in defeat.

"Have you noticed his sword?" Mithrandir asked suddenly and Glorfindel stared at him in bemusement, the seeming change in subject throwing him.

"Sword?" he asked. "I saw no sword."

"Then you were not being as attentive as you should be, Captain," Mithrandir replied coldly. "If you had seen the sword I think your concerns would not matter so much."

Glorfindel closed his eyes and replayed the scene of the previous evening when the Wizard had introduced Lord Elrond and his household to thirteen Dwarves and one Hobbit. He prided himself on his perfect recall and focused his attention on Bilbo, looking miserable as only one of the Perian could when not properly fed. He almost smiled at the memory of other Hobbits long ages past whom he had met during the war with Angmar. Then his smile froze as he suddenly ‘saw’ the sword Mithrandir had mentioned.

It was not, in fact, a sword at all, though for Bilbo Baggins it certainly served well enough as one. It was actually a long knife and its hilt...

He opened his eyes, staring at the Wizard in disbelief. "That’s not possible!" he exclaimed.

"Is it not?" Mithrandir countered. "You recognize it." It was not a question.

Glorfindel swallowed and nodded. "I had it made in Gondolin. Tuor teased me about it, but I had been having visions of late in which the knife played an integral part. I did not know what it meant, only that it was important that the knife be crafted and kept in my house." He stopped, his face paling with the memory of fallen Gondolin. "I forgot all about it after... after I died."

Now Mithrandir went to the Elf and took him by the shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. "I confess that I had my doubts about Bilbo as well, yet something told me he and only he would do. When we found the trolls’ treasure I suspected that the swords and Bilbo’s knife came from Gondolin, but nothing more do I know of their history."

"You will have to show them to Elrond," Glorfindel said. "He mayhap will be able to tell you more. I will not speak of Gondolin to any; the memories...."

Mithrandir nodded. "I understand, mellon nîn, more than you realize."

"I still do not think it wise of you to drag this poor Perian into your mad scheme," Glorfindel said, "but I trust you as I trust few others and I hope that my knife will prove of use to the little fellow."

"As to that," Mithrandir said with a twinkle in his eyes, "only time will tell...."

****

Legolas stared at the Elf-lord in surprise. "Bilbo’s sword, Sting... you made it?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "I had it made by one of our swordsmiths. Then I hung it on the wall in one of the rooms of my house and never gave it another thought. I watched Bilbo during his stay in Imladris. He seemed so unprepossessing and feckless, yet there was something about him that told me that Mithrandir had not made as huge a mistake in his choice as I had originally thought. When he and Bilbo returned after the Battle of Five Armies, I was amazed at the change that had come upon our burglar. He had grown, if not in stature, then certainly in nobility and courage. Since he came to live here these many years ago, we have become good friends and I admire and respect not only him but all the other Periain for themselves."

"Does he know about Sting?" Legolas asked.

Glorfindel shook his head. "No. I deemed it an unimportant detail." He gave Legolas a deprecating grin and the Sinda chuckled.

"So you are saying that even someone like our young Tûk is more than he seems?"

"Indeed." Glorfindel answered then gave Legolas a considering look. "Do you not trust Mithrandir’s judgment in this?"

Legolas sighed. "You would think that after all this time I would, and I do... mostly."

Glorfindel put an arm around the younger ellon’s shoulders and gave him a brief but warm hug. "That’s all right. Sometimes I still have my doubts as well."

"What about the Dwarf?" Legolas suddenly asked.

"What about him? Gimli son of Glóin is very honorable and a doughty warrior I deem."

"He’s a Dwarf," Legolas stated categorically as if that was all that mattered.

"And you’re an Elf," Glorfindel countered, frowning. "Again, you are seeing only the obvious, child. Look deeper, in him and in yourself. You may find more there than meets the eye."

"Or less."

"Sometimes, child," Glorfindel admonished him with quiet gentleness, "you find what you are looking for. Look for the good and the noble in all. You may find them even in yourself."

Now Legolas stared at Glorfindel in shock. "Are you accusing me of being less than good and noble?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "No. I am saying that if all you see in others is the bad, what does that say about you? We are all reflections of our thoughts." He stood and gazed serenely down at the bemused prince. "Remember, Thranduilion, in the end, whether we are Elves or Men, Dwarves or Halflings, we are ultimately Eru’s Children and beloved by the Belain. Never forget that."

With those words he gave Legolas a brief bow and walked away towards the house, leaving the Sinda sitting alone in the garden. Only when one of Elrond’s people found him some hours later, reminding him that the farewell feast for the members of the Fellowship would begin soon, did he make his way back inside to change into more formal garb, his expression still thoughtful.

****

All words are Sindarin.

Adar: Father.

Goheno nin, hîr nîn: 'Forgive me, my lord'.

Periain: Plural of Perian: Halfling, Hobbit.

Naugrim: Dwarves.

Ellon: Male Elf.

Mellon nîn: My friend.

Belain: Valar.

Linguistic notes:

1. Animadversion: From the Latin animadvertere ‘to turn the mind to’. There are two obsolete meanings which apply to this story: 1). The act or power of perceiving or taking notice; direct or simple observation; 2). Admonition; cautionary advice or counsel. Its present-day meaning is as a synonym of ‘rebuke’ as a noun.

2. Since Legolas and Glorfindel are speaking Sindarin, they naturally ‘translate’ Frodo’s name into its Sindarin equivalent, Iorhael. As Bilbo’s name has no remembered meaning he is referred to simply as ‘Bilbo’. Tûk is the original form of the family name anglicized as ‘Took’ in Tolkien’s writings.