DISCLAIMER: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of its characters. Please don't sue.
Authoress's Notes: Don't even bother continuing unless you've either A) Seen RotK or read the book or B) Don't care if I spoil stuffs.
When I refer to younger and older among the Elves, just accept it as a relative term, "younger" means appears about twenty, "older" means appears about thirty, and actual ages...so far I have not found a satisfactory scale that allows me to pin a number on any Elf whose age is not given in the books.
Also, I know that Elves don't sleep the way we think of sleep. I rechecked this in TTT book, though, and here's a few of the things it said: "...Legolas was first afoot, if indeed he had ever slept." "...in the waybread of the Elves he found all the sustenance that he needed, and he could sleep, if sleep it could be called by Men, resting his mind in the strange paths of elvish dreams, even as he walked open-eyed..." "Aragorn and Gimli slept fitfully, and whenever they awoke they saw Legolas standing beside them, or walking to and fro, singing softly to himself in his own tongue..." Plus there were beds in Rivendell and Lothlórien, and (in the movies anyway) Arwen has her own bed. My conclusion is that they do lie down at night, close their eyes, and basically sort out their thoughts and have dreams, let their muscles rest, but this is not necessary for survival, and in less than ideal conditions can be done standing/walking and with eyes open. So I'm not going to refer to Elves "sleeping" but I am going to refer to going to bed and getting up in the morning and having dreams.
I believe there was a class system in Middle-Earth (at least as far as Men, Hobbits, Elves, and Dwarves were concerned) and that the lines were clearly drawn, BUT, I don't think they meant as much as they did later. For example (and strictly for that), if Aragorn had fallen in love with a commoner instead of Arwen no one would have objected to him marrying her. However, this would be more true being on the top looking down than on the bottom looking up. IE, it would be easier for Aragorn to go along with it than said commoner. Said commoner would probably be all like "I am not worthy" and all that. That will play a big part in this story.
For the record, there is already a Lalaith in Tolkien's history and my character is NOT the same person. Tolkien's Lalaith was the first daughter/second child of Húrin and Morwen as mentioned in the Silmarillion, and the name actually does mean "laughter". For the whole story read chapter 21 of Silm. Actually, the story is of her two siblings, the historical Lalaith had almost no part (all of two sentences) as she died very young--I chose the name for the meaning, not the historical significance. Still, the story of her siblings, Túrin and Nienor Níniel, is very romantic and desperately sad (think Romeo and Juliet) and worth reading.
Now...ON WITH THE STORY!
The royal house in the forest of Mirkwood was a sprawling, yet unassuming, structure. Much like Rivendell, it allowed trees to grow indoors and wrapped itself around other trees, most of the windows being glassless and most rooms having a door that led outside.
The kitchen was nestled near the back, down steps and somewhat unnoitceable. The elven women that worked in there often commented how convenient and pleasant it was. It was a cheery place to be, and it was an honoable thing for an elven maiden to serve for a time in the house of the Mirkwood King.
The women were always bustling about in there, but on one particular day it was busier than usual.
"What is all the fuss about?" asked one of the older cooks.
"It's our dear prince," said another. "He's due home today after his latest travels. My cousin said he's bringing along a Dwarf. Can you imagine?" The cousin in question was a courtier.
"The world has changed indeed if a Dwarf is entering Mirkwood of his own free will," said a dark-haired maiden, younger than the others. "Don't you agree, Lalaith?"
A girl with strawberry-blond hair looked up from the vegetables she was chopping. "Beyond a doubt, Elen." Her eyes quickly returned to the task at hand.
Elen moved to her friend's side and picked up her own vegetable to chop. "Have you ever seen the prince?" she asked.
"No, I haven't been here long enough for that," Lalaith said. "He had just left on his latest journey when I started serving here, remember? Have you seen him?"
Elen nodded, the dark waves of curls shaking, and sighed happily.
Lalaith was curious. "Well?"
"He looks very noble. Always polite. He seems...soft-hearted."
"You spoke with him?"
"A few times, but only briefly. But he had such soft eyes, Lalaith, you could only understand if you ever saw them. And it seems you shall have that chance this very night."
Lalaith laughed with her friend. She was the newest of the girls working in the kitchen, but she was smart and quick and performed her tasks well, so everyone else loved for her to be there. She was good friends with all the women, but Elen was her roommate and best friend, the one who had taught her how to do the kitchen work and the ways certain things were done, including how to behave when serving Thranduil himself.
"Listen to those two, chattering like that," said one of the older women.
"Harmless," said another. "We sounded like that when we first arrived here."
The first woman allowed herself to smile, just slightly, at that. "That may be true. I remember when the talk was all of Thranduil, not his son."
Thranduil's son was, at that moment, riding toward the royal house, making a spectacle of himself due to the Dwarf in front of him on the horse.
"So this is the fabled Mirkwood that my father Glóin traversed with the cousin of Master Baggins..." the Dwarf said, absorbing his surroundings.
"As well as with your cousin Balin, and Thorin Oakenshield, and Gandalf, among others."
The Dwarf nodded as the Elf halted his horse and dismounted. Then the Elf helped the Dwarf off the horse, and a servant took the horse and led it off to the stables. "Come, friend," said the Elf. "I want you to meet my father."
The pair went inside the house and to the throne room where Thranduil sat waiting, and who rose as they entered the room. "Legolas! My son." He walked forward and they embraced.
"Father. It is good to see you." Legolas chose a tone that was polite and yet distant.
"My son, I know that matters between us were...strained, when you left, but I hope we can let that be in the past and enjoy ourselves now."
Legolas nodded. "Father, I want you to meet my dearest friend. This is Gimli, son of Glóin. Gimli, my father, King Thranduil."
Gimli bowed out of courtesy taught to him by Legolas beside a campfire on their way to Mirkwood. Thranduil bowed back only slightly, but did not snub the Dwarf. "I have heard much about you, Master Gimli, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance."
Gimli rose. "It is an honor to enter these forests," he said, still going by Legolas' coaching.
"I hope that relations between our two peoples may at last be harmonious," Thranduil said.
Gimli nodded. "And I as well." He paused for only a second, and Legolas did not have time to stop Gimli's next sentence. "The last time I entered an Elven kingdom I was required to be blindfolded."
Legolas sighed inaudibly. "The Lady Galadriel has long since changed her opinions of Dwarves, thanks to Gimli," he said, covering Gimli's tracks.
Thranduil laughed in a very dignified manner. He had been expecting something like that. Legolas had indeed told him much about the Dwarf, and he had not left out Gimli's talent for saying the wrong thing at the wrong moment. "My son, I shall let the two of you retire to your chambers. Tonight there is to be celebration in Mirkwood, and I need you to be looking your finest."
"What is the occasion?" Legolas queried.
"Your return, of course. Gimli, we have provided garments for you, but they may have to be refitted, so I suggest you see about that as soon as possible."
Gimli bowed again. "Many thanks, I'm sure."
"Follow me, friend," Legolas said, leading Gimli towards a hallway off the throne room.
An hour later, after taking a bath and wrapping himself in a light garment until he felt like dressing for the celebration, Legolas found himself lying on his bed in his chamber. His face was turned toward the window, but his thoughts were turned on the recent events of his life.
After the One Ring was destroyed, he had dwelt for a time in Gondor, awaiting the marriage of his dear friend Aragorn to Arwen, daughter of Elrond. Once that had happened, he had traveled with Gimli and several others towards their homes, but they had parted ways before reaching the dwelling of either one. Upon arriving home, there had been celebration in the land of Mirkwood because of the One Ring and because of Legolas' safe return. Unfortunately, Thranduil had spoiled the joy of it for Legolas by dropping a few too many hints. "You've had your adventures, now you should think about settling down, producing an heir..." It had never been said directly, and probably never would be, but Legolas knew his father well enough to read between the lines.
It was ridiculous, Legolas thought, that anyone should worry about his producing an heir. Even though he had no brothers, the possible need for an heir among a people that never died was laughable.
When the friction between them got to be too frustrating to put up with, Legolas announced that he was going on more travels. He would go off for a month or two, return, and stay in Mirkwood as long as he could manage. So far he had visited Gimli and his kin, visited Aragorn and Arwen, visited the Ents, and visited his Hobbit friends when Samwise married his Hobbit lass. He had just returned from seeing Gimli again, and it was the first time he had tried the reverse tactic and brought company home with him. He hoped that having a friend around would keep his father from bringing it up again.
He certainly wasn't about to follow Thranduil's suggestion. Getting married would mean almost never traveling, and having to spend his time with a wife instead of riding or practicing new archery tricks.
Not that Legolas hated women. They were tolerable, and somewhat better once you got to know them, he reasoned. He liked Arwen well enough as a friend, and Aragorn seemed happy as a married man, so he wasn't ruling out the possibility for all eternity. He just planned on waiting for things to work themselves out rather than going out and hunting down a bride like one hunted an Orc.
After a while there was a knock on the chamber door. Legolas sat up and said, "Enter."
It was Gimli, looking refined in Elvish clothes tailored especially for him. " I thought your father meant I was being given clothes only for the celebration tonight. There are so many garments, I could go a month and never have to wash anything!"
Legolas smiled. By Gimli's definition, that probably meant that there were about six sets of clothes. "Don't trouble yourself about it, friend. There are servants to take care of that for you as long as you remain here."
Gimli shook his head. "Such luxuries," he said. "But that reminds me. One of the sewing-girls said to tell you that it is time to prepare for dinner."
"Of course. I must dress." Legolas got up and opened a drawer, searching for the clothes he would need. He found a twilight-blue tunic and leggings, and a black overtunic.
"What was your father speaking of earlier?" Gimli ventured.
"When?"
"When he said that you were having problems."
Legolas grimaced. "Strained was the word he used. Don't trouble yourself about it, friend. It is a matter of small importance." He was sure Gimli would not understand; with the scarcity of Dwarf women it was not unusual for a Dwarf to be a lifelong bachelor, and thus there was never any pressure.
Gimli shrugged it off and changed the subject. "What is this celebration going to be like?"
"Banquet would be a better word. You'll probably enjoy it, as the meal is sure to be made up of grand delicacies. There may be a speech by my father, and he may ask me to say a few words. Nothing of import, just how happy he is to see me home and how happy I am to be here...oh, and he will likely introduce you and put some politics into the evening. Just don't listen too closely and the evening will be over soon enough."
"You don't enjoy feasting?"
Legolas shook his head. "Eating is one thing. Speeches are another." He shut the door of his room, since Gimli had neglected to do so when he came in. "Don't let anyone know this," he said, "but I plan to leave early. No one will miss me if Father gets started talking about how he wants to reestablish communication with the Dwarven kingdoms."
Gimli chuckled. "It seems a bit strange that I am the one that is younger and yet you are the one with the hot blood and impatience of youth still upon you."
Legolas smiled at that.
Legolas's predictions had been correct: the food was delicious and the speeches were boring. After acknowledging the return of his son, Thranduil introduced Gimli to his court and went off on a tangent about the future relations between the Elves of Mirkwood and the Dwarves.
The banquet was held in a large tent outside the front of the palace. Behind the head table was the main entrance to the Royal House, and across from it the tent was open to the cool night air.
Legolas waited patiently for the opportune moment. With all the servants taking care of the guests, it wouldn't be difficult to blend in with the crowd and get away if he could just get up from the table without calling attention to himself. He wasn't even at the head table with Thranduil and his closest advisors. The only reason he could come up with for that was that he was seated next to Gimli, and despite everything being said, it was just too big of a jump to allow a Dwarf up at the head table. However, Legolas didn't really mind that, because it was working to his advantage.
Suddenly, the moment was there. Everyone at the table was completely focused on the speech, except Gimli, who was focused on the food and knew better than to spoil Legolas' escape.
Legolas simply stood up and mixed in with the servants that were moving up and down the table, refilling glasses and taking away empty plates. Even though the servants were all in uniforms, in the rush of people, no one recognized exactly who the banqueter among them was. Legolas headed towards the open clearing outside rather than back into the palace. He kept his eyes down the whole time and no one noticed the Prince of Mirkwood walking right out into the night.
Once outside the tent, Legolas allowed himself to breathe again. He walked around the side of the tent, wondering what he would do with the time. He didn't want to go inside since the night was so beautiful. Just as he started walking towards the back of the tent in order to go down to a stream that was behind the palace, he was caught.
"My lord?"
In the light streaming out from the tent stood a lovely young elven girl wearing the simple white dress that was the uniform worn by the serving-girls on special occasions. Her pale red hair caught glints of the candlelight from within. She stood looking at him, questions in her eyes. Legolas barely had time to let any of it register before instinct kicked in. He took her by the hands and pulled her out of the light before anyone noticed her talking to him.
"My lady, please do not betray my presence here."
The shocked look on her face softened and she immediately sought to reassure him. "Oh, I am certain no one minds, my lord. In fact, if you wish to listen there are empty chairs at a few of the tables..."
"No, no, quite the opposite, my lady. Now if you'll excuse me, I wish to get away before my absence is noticed. I beg of you your silence."
She frowned. "Granted, but why? I thought it was an honor to be invited to the King's banquet."
Legolas tilted his head. He was beginning to understand her impressions of him. "Do you not know who I am, my lady? You do not know the name Legolas?"
She seemed to be getting frustrated with him. "I assume you are one favored by the King and named for our Prince. I am a servant in the household but I am not yet familiar with all of the King's court."
Legolas smiled, realizing that she did not recognize him. "So you're new, then. I was sure I knew all the servants by name, but your face is unfamiliar. How long have you been serving?"
"I am Lalaith Silverflow, my lord. I have been serving for only a month."
"That explains it. I have been traveling until recently. I am Legolas Greenleaf, like the Prince, as you said. Would you care to join me for a stroll among the trees? I would enjoy the company." Legolas was perfectly content to let her go on thinking that he was only named after the Prince of Mirkwood, and the offer was made impetuously.
Lalaith glanced back towards the tent. "I am supposed to be serving right now."
"Will you get in very much trouble?" he tried.
She kept watching the tent. "I do not know." She turned back to look at him. "Your offer is very tempting..."
He read the pleading in her eyes and knew that she found the pomp, circumstance, and speechmaking almost as boring as he did. He smiled. "My lady, do not worry over it. If you are missed in the first place it would surprise me, but even if you are, I will see to it that no harm befalls you." When she hesitated, he continued, "I have enough influence with the King to see that you are not punished for this. I will accept the blame."
She finally took a step towards him. "It would be my honor, my lord, to accompany you."
"Do me one favor, please," he said.
"Yes, my lord?"
"That's exactly it. Stop calling me your lord. Tonight, to you, I am just Legolas."
She nodded. "Very well...Legolas."
"And may I call you Lalaith, or would that be too familiar, my lady?"
She shook her head. "I am not one to favor formalities. Lalaith will be fine."
He smiled and took her arm upon his. As they walked toward the stream, he tried to start a conversation. "Tell me, Lalaith, what are your duties?"
"I help cook and serve, carry water, kitchen duties," she said. "I don't think it's an existence you will find very interesting. Perhaps you could tell me about yours."
Legolas paused a moment, gathering his thoughts. He did not want to lie to this girl, but he did not want to talk of his life anymore. The whole point in being outside the tent in the first place was to get away from the things he was bored with. "My existence is not any more worthy of conversation than anyone else's, and in fact, I am tired of discussing it. Could we keep the subject away from our daily lives?"
"As you wish, Legolas, but what shall we discuss?"
"Anything," he said. "Your name, for instance."
"My name?" she queried, unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile.
He smiled at her. "It means laughter, does it not?"
"Yes...." She frowned with her eyebrows but smiled with her lips and tried to figure out where he was going with that.
"Well, what a wonderful thing to be named for," he said. "People must smile every time they see you coming."
She laughed a little at that.
"See? No wonder they named you Laughter."
She smiled. "Where are we going?"
"To the stream behind the palace. Have you ever seen it in the moonlight?"
"Not up close. I draw water from it throughout the day, though."
Legolas smiled. "You'll gain a new appreciation of it, then. It's completely different under the full moon."
She looked up at him. "If you can answer without telling me about your everyday existence," she said, "Why did you leave the celebration?"
He sighed. "After you've attended two or three of these so-called 'celebrations', they get very boring. Politics are infused in every aspect of them. I am loyal to my King but he does enjoy speechmaking more than he ought. If there was more singing and dancing and less protocol they might be fun."
She reflected on that. "Nobody really looked like they were having fun," she said, remembering.
"So I left," he said. "And I find that I am having a much better time talking to you."
He detected a streak of spunk in her smile. "As much of an honor as it is to serve in the house of the King, it was getting a bit tedious tonight," Lalaith admitted.
"Why is it such an honor? I never have understood that."
She shrugged. "May I be frank with you, Legolas?"
"Certainly."
"My father told me that an elf-maiden who has decorum enough to be permitted by the King to serve in the palace easily has decorum enough to find a suitable groom for herself."
"Ah." Legolas nodded. "It seems that it always comes back to marriage, at least where parents are concerned. What do you think of it? Is that why you decided to serve here?"
"Oh, no, I took the opportunity simply out of curiosity. I have always thought that the girls who get to serve were so elegant and graceful and I never thought that I was good enough to be one. When given the chance I jumped to take it. I enjoy it here, in the palace. I wouldn't mind serving forever, just to be able to stay here."
"Really?" He tilted his head to look at her. He'd never thought of his home that way and the opinion surprised him.
"Yes. It's that beautiful here. My family is not that far away, I can walk and be home in an hour."
Legolas nodded.
She bit her lip. "I think Father would like for me to stay only a year or two, though, and then get married."
"Is that what you want? To get married, I mean." He found himself sympathizing with her plight, wishing it didn't have to be that way for her. Of course, nothing was set in stone, apparently. She still had the freedom to make those choices, and it was uncommon for a marriage to be forced, but Legolas knew of a few girls who had been persuaded to go against their original decisions in the matter. He supposed that after that year or two, Lalaith's father would introduce her to a noble Elf gentleman and a wedding would take place soon after, no matter what she thought of him.
Lalaith shook her head. "No. I mean, I don't know. I suppose if the right man came along, then maybe, but I can think of no one that I know whom I would want to marry." She paused. "Since you were bold enough to ask that, Legolas, what about you? Do you wish to marry?"
He shook his head. "I find myself in much the same situation. I know my father would like for me to find a bride and settle down, but I want to be able to travel when I wish and see my friends--they're scattered throughout Middle-Earth, from Gondor to the Shire. Perhaps if I met a lady who would travel with me, then I would consider it. But I am not going to try to find her. If it's meant to be, we'll meet someday."
"That's a lovely thought," Lalaith said. She smiled again, with a faraway look in her eyes.
By this time they had reached the stream, and were standing on its gravelly banks. "Look at how the water catches the moonlight as it moves," Legolas whispered. "And how the wet stones shine."
She nodded. "You're right. It's beautiful."
Trees that grow beside water have strange roots at varying heights, since the water level is constantly changing. By this stream one tree in particular had a rather large root that stuck out from waist height and arched down toward the water. "I often use this as a bench," Legolas said, leading her to it and helping her to sit down. She leaned against the trunk of the tree and he sat beside her.
Suddenly she had a question. "Where have you traveled to already?"
"Almost everywhere," he said. "Except Mordor, of course."
She laughed again. "Tell me about it," she said.
"About what?"
"Traveling. What other places are like. I've never been outside of Mirkwood."
"Really? You must go sometime. Rivendell is a sight to be seen in the autumn, but not very unlike here. Minas Tirith, the White City of Gondor, is beautiful, too. Seven rings of buildings all made of white marble. Even the dwellings in the lowest circle are like palaces. And the Shire is enchanting at any time of year, both for its scenery and its inhabitants."
He had captured her attention and her fascination. "What about the Shire?" Lalaith asked. "I have heard of the place and its Halflings but I have never heard what it looks like."
"Well, if you ever meet a Halfling, refer to it as a Hobbit and they'll like you right away, because that's their name for themselves. And if you ever go indoors in the Shire, watch your head! The Hobbits are only half our height, and they make their buildings half normal size."
She laughed once again, and Legolas wondered if perhaps her parents had heard her lilting laugh before they chose her name. She also seemed to laugh frequently, compared to the aristocratic Elves he usually assoiciated with.
"You remind me of my Hobbit friends, actually," he told her. "They're always quick with a joke and love to laugh and be joyful. In some ways I wish Elves were more like them."
She nodded. "I think we do get too caught up in formalities at times," she agreed. "That's why I like the kitchen. Since it's all women in there we tend to be a little freer in what we say. Sometimes serving is actually more fun than work."
He nodded. "I've noticed that I tend to talk more when I'm away visiting friends than when I'm here at home."
"I talk more in the kitchen than anywhere else...tonight being an exception," she said. "I hope I'm not talking too much."
"Not at all. If more Elves were like you, I'd stay around here much more."
She blushed. "I'm glad I'm pleasant company."
He didn't answer that. He was waching the water.
"You are, too. Pleasant, I mean," she said.
"Thank you." He turned to look at her, and caught a glimpse of the tent out of the corner of his eye. People were filing out of the front and going off in different directions. "Look," he told her.
Lalaith did look. "Oh, the feast is over! I must get back to the kitchens and help with the dishes. It's been very pleasant, Legolas, but they will miss me if I don't hurry." She had already risen to her feet and was about to walk off, but he caught her by the wrist.
"Wait," he said.
"I have to go--"
"I know, but if you must go now, at least agree to see me again. You're delightful company, better than I've had in a long time."
She smiled. "When?"
"Can you get away and meet me here tomorrow evening...say, for sunset? We could watch it together."
"If I hurry with my chores, I can do that."
"And this will be our secret?" he asked.
She tilted her head. "Why?"
"Because I was supposed to be there for all the speeches. If they find out that I left, I may be in trouble, and since I've arrived home I've had no other time in which I could have plausibly met you. Please keep it secret?" He pled with his eyes and she couldn't resist.
"All right. I won't tell anyone. I'll be here tomorrow."
He smiled and let go of her wrist, watching her run to the kitchen.
He lingered for a moment, wondering if he ever could have gotten her to have that conversation with him if she had recognized him as Prince.
There were a few servants already in the kitchen when Lalaith arrived, but no one seemed to notice that she had been gone. She immediately started scraping off plates. However, Elen walked in a few moments later and immediately confronted her. "Where did you disappear to?"
"What?" Lalaith pretended to be surprised. Of course Elen would have noticed.
"After I took wine to Lady Linwë, I didn't see you again. Where were you?"
"I was serving. I didn't see you either."
"You can't lie. You're terrible at it."
"Is that a bad thing?" Lalaith asked. She thought it was rather funny, because she had just told the truth. She had been serving--before she left--and she hadn't seen Elen.
"Don't change the subject. Where were you?"
"Fine, Elen. I was here. I got tired of walking back and forth so I started on dishes." That was also true. Lalaith had been there--for at least five minutes. She had gotten tired of walking back and forth, and then when she got back she started on dishes rather than walk back to an empty dining tent.
Elen narrowed her eyes. "Fine. You're not going to tell me, so stick to that story. But don't think I believe you for a minute."
Lalaith just laughed at her. "Have it your way."
"So, how did it go last night, laddie?" Gimli asked.
Legolas looked up, startled. They were in the library playing a game similar to chess and the question had come out of the clear blue. Surely Gimli did not know about Lalaith...
"Did you get away with it, or does your father know you sneaked away?" Gimli pressed.
Legolas sighed in relief, and smiled. "Oh. No, I got away." He moved one of his pieces. "Your turn."
"That was a bad move, laddie." Gimli moved one of his pieces and declared, "I win."
"What?" Legolas looked over the configuration on the board before him. "Indeed you do...strange. Usually I play much better."
Gimli leaned back in his chair with a smug look on his face. "Admit it. You're distracted."
Legolas looked over at him. Maybe he did know...
"You just can't handle being in the presence of such an obvious champion."
Legolas smiled. "Watch yourself, rock-dweller."
"I'm not the one who lost, pointy-ears."
They continued trading insults until one of the manservants entered and told them dinner was about to be served.
"What are we going to do after dinner?" Gimli asked as they walked down the hall towards Thranduil's dining room.
"I'm afraid you'll have to fend for yourself. I have a previous engagement, and you won't be welcome." Legolas actually wouldn't have minded for Gimli and Lalaith to meet, especially since she seemed curious about the world outside Mirkwood, but it was well-known that the Prince was responsible for bringing a Dwarf into the Woodland Realm, and Lalaith would surely figure him out.
"What am I supposed to do?" Gimli asked.
"You saw the library. Find a book. I think you'll find Elvish books quite entertaining, with illustrations that seem to come alive."
Gimli's eyes widened. "I might just do that."
Lalaith had never been so quick about her tasks. Just the thought of reuniting with Legolas, even if only for five minutes of conversation, was enough motivation to keep her busy from the moment she rose in the morning. She could hardly believe how much she was anticipating the rendezvous.
"You're certainly having a productive day," one of the older women remarked. "But I think once you've swept up the kitchen you'll be finished."
"Thank you," Lalaith said, cheerfully. Elen had just left to help serve dinner to the King, the Prince, and the honored Dwarf, and sunset was fast approaching. She found a broom and swept the entire kitchen in a matter of minutes. Luckily, she got done and left before Elen got back to ask her questions.
She raced down to the stream and sat on the tree-bench. She'd beaten Legolas there and would have to wait.
A/N: And so will you! Actually, go on, the next chappie's up. Review this first, though, if you would be so kind...
Authoress's Notes: Don't even bother continuing unless you've either A) Seen RotK or read the book or B) Don't care if I spoil stuffs.
When I refer to younger and older among the Elves, just accept it as a relative term, "younger" means appears about twenty, "older" means appears about thirty, and actual ages...so far I have not found a satisfactory scale that allows me to pin a number on any Elf whose age is not given in the books.
Also, I know that Elves don't sleep the way we think of sleep. I rechecked this in TTT book, though, and here's a few of the things it said: "...Legolas was first afoot, if indeed he had ever slept." "...in the waybread of the Elves he found all the sustenance that he needed, and he could sleep, if sleep it could be called by Men, resting his mind in the strange paths of elvish dreams, even as he walked open-eyed..." "Aragorn and Gimli slept fitfully, and whenever they awoke they saw Legolas standing beside them, or walking to and fro, singing softly to himself in his own tongue..." Plus there were beds in Rivendell and Lothlórien, and (in the movies anyway) Arwen has her own bed. My conclusion is that they do lie down at night, close their eyes, and basically sort out their thoughts and have dreams, let their muscles rest, but this is not necessary for survival, and in less than ideal conditions can be done standing/walking and with eyes open. So I'm not going to refer to Elves "sleeping" but I am going to refer to going to bed and getting up in the morning and having dreams.
I believe there was a class system in Middle-Earth (at least as far as Men, Hobbits, Elves, and Dwarves were concerned) and that the lines were clearly drawn, BUT, I don't think they meant as much as they did later. For example (and strictly for that), if Aragorn had fallen in love with a commoner instead of Arwen no one would have objected to him marrying her. However, this would be more true being on the top looking down than on the bottom looking up. IE, it would be easier for Aragorn to go along with it than said commoner. Said commoner would probably be all like "I am not worthy" and all that. That will play a big part in this story.
For the record, there is already a Lalaith in Tolkien's history and my character is NOT the same person. Tolkien's Lalaith was the first daughter/second child of Húrin and Morwen as mentioned in the Silmarillion, and the name actually does mean "laughter". For the whole story read chapter 21 of Silm. Actually, the story is of her two siblings, the historical Lalaith had almost no part (all of two sentences) as she died very young--I chose the name for the meaning, not the historical significance. Still, the story of her siblings, Túrin and Nienor Níniel, is very romantic and desperately sad (think Romeo and Juliet) and worth reading.
Now...ON WITH THE STORY!
The royal house in the forest of Mirkwood was a sprawling, yet unassuming, structure. Much like Rivendell, it allowed trees to grow indoors and wrapped itself around other trees, most of the windows being glassless and most rooms having a door that led outside.
The kitchen was nestled near the back, down steps and somewhat unnoitceable. The elven women that worked in there often commented how convenient and pleasant it was. It was a cheery place to be, and it was an honoable thing for an elven maiden to serve for a time in the house of the Mirkwood King.
The women were always bustling about in there, but on one particular day it was busier than usual.
"What is all the fuss about?" asked one of the older cooks.
"It's our dear prince," said another. "He's due home today after his latest travels. My cousin said he's bringing along a Dwarf. Can you imagine?" The cousin in question was a courtier.
"The world has changed indeed if a Dwarf is entering Mirkwood of his own free will," said a dark-haired maiden, younger than the others. "Don't you agree, Lalaith?"
A girl with strawberry-blond hair looked up from the vegetables she was chopping. "Beyond a doubt, Elen." Her eyes quickly returned to the task at hand.
Elen moved to her friend's side and picked up her own vegetable to chop. "Have you ever seen the prince?" she asked.
"No, I haven't been here long enough for that," Lalaith said. "He had just left on his latest journey when I started serving here, remember? Have you seen him?"
Elen nodded, the dark waves of curls shaking, and sighed happily.
Lalaith was curious. "Well?"
"He looks very noble. Always polite. He seems...soft-hearted."
"You spoke with him?"
"A few times, but only briefly. But he had such soft eyes, Lalaith, you could only understand if you ever saw them. And it seems you shall have that chance this very night."
Lalaith laughed with her friend. She was the newest of the girls working in the kitchen, but she was smart and quick and performed her tasks well, so everyone else loved for her to be there. She was good friends with all the women, but Elen was her roommate and best friend, the one who had taught her how to do the kitchen work and the ways certain things were done, including how to behave when serving Thranduil himself.
"Listen to those two, chattering like that," said one of the older women.
"Harmless," said another. "We sounded like that when we first arrived here."
The first woman allowed herself to smile, just slightly, at that. "That may be true. I remember when the talk was all of Thranduil, not his son."
Thranduil's son was, at that moment, riding toward the royal house, making a spectacle of himself due to the Dwarf in front of him on the horse.
"So this is the fabled Mirkwood that my father Glóin traversed with the cousin of Master Baggins..." the Dwarf said, absorbing his surroundings.
"As well as with your cousin Balin, and Thorin Oakenshield, and Gandalf, among others."
The Dwarf nodded as the Elf halted his horse and dismounted. Then the Elf helped the Dwarf off the horse, and a servant took the horse and led it off to the stables. "Come, friend," said the Elf. "I want you to meet my father."
The pair went inside the house and to the throne room where Thranduil sat waiting, and who rose as they entered the room. "Legolas! My son." He walked forward and they embraced.
"Father. It is good to see you." Legolas chose a tone that was polite and yet distant.
"My son, I know that matters between us were...strained, when you left, but I hope we can let that be in the past and enjoy ourselves now."
Legolas nodded. "Father, I want you to meet my dearest friend. This is Gimli, son of Glóin. Gimli, my father, King Thranduil."
Gimli bowed out of courtesy taught to him by Legolas beside a campfire on their way to Mirkwood. Thranduil bowed back only slightly, but did not snub the Dwarf. "I have heard much about you, Master Gimli, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance."
Gimli rose. "It is an honor to enter these forests," he said, still going by Legolas' coaching.
"I hope that relations between our two peoples may at last be harmonious," Thranduil said.
Gimli nodded. "And I as well." He paused for only a second, and Legolas did not have time to stop Gimli's next sentence. "The last time I entered an Elven kingdom I was required to be blindfolded."
Legolas sighed inaudibly. "The Lady Galadriel has long since changed her opinions of Dwarves, thanks to Gimli," he said, covering Gimli's tracks.
Thranduil laughed in a very dignified manner. He had been expecting something like that. Legolas had indeed told him much about the Dwarf, and he had not left out Gimli's talent for saying the wrong thing at the wrong moment. "My son, I shall let the two of you retire to your chambers. Tonight there is to be celebration in Mirkwood, and I need you to be looking your finest."
"What is the occasion?" Legolas queried.
"Your return, of course. Gimli, we have provided garments for you, but they may have to be refitted, so I suggest you see about that as soon as possible."
Gimli bowed again. "Many thanks, I'm sure."
"Follow me, friend," Legolas said, leading Gimli towards a hallway off the throne room.
An hour later, after taking a bath and wrapping himself in a light garment until he felt like dressing for the celebration, Legolas found himself lying on his bed in his chamber. His face was turned toward the window, but his thoughts were turned on the recent events of his life.
After the One Ring was destroyed, he had dwelt for a time in Gondor, awaiting the marriage of his dear friend Aragorn to Arwen, daughter of Elrond. Once that had happened, he had traveled with Gimli and several others towards their homes, but they had parted ways before reaching the dwelling of either one. Upon arriving home, there had been celebration in the land of Mirkwood because of the One Ring and because of Legolas' safe return. Unfortunately, Thranduil had spoiled the joy of it for Legolas by dropping a few too many hints. "You've had your adventures, now you should think about settling down, producing an heir..." It had never been said directly, and probably never would be, but Legolas knew his father well enough to read between the lines.
It was ridiculous, Legolas thought, that anyone should worry about his producing an heir. Even though he had no brothers, the possible need for an heir among a people that never died was laughable.
When the friction between them got to be too frustrating to put up with, Legolas announced that he was going on more travels. He would go off for a month or two, return, and stay in Mirkwood as long as he could manage. So far he had visited Gimli and his kin, visited Aragorn and Arwen, visited the Ents, and visited his Hobbit friends when Samwise married his Hobbit lass. He had just returned from seeing Gimli again, and it was the first time he had tried the reverse tactic and brought company home with him. He hoped that having a friend around would keep his father from bringing it up again.
He certainly wasn't about to follow Thranduil's suggestion. Getting married would mean almost never traveling, and having to spend his time with a wife instead of riding or practicing new archery tricks.
Not that Legolas hated women. They were tolerable, and somewhat better once you got to know them, he reasoned. He liked Arwen well enough as a friend, and Aragorn seemed happy as a married man, so he wasn't ruling out the possibility for all eternity. He just planned on waiting for things to work themselves out rather than going out and hunting down a bride like one hunted an Orc.
After a while there was a knock on the chamber door. Legolas sat up and said, "Enter."
It was Gimli, looking refined in Elvish clothes tailored especially for him. " I thought your father meant I was being given clothes only for the celebration tonight. There are so many garments, I could go a month and never have to wash anything!"
Legolas smiled. By Gimli's definition, that probably meant that there were about six sets of clothes. "Don't trouble yourself about it, friend. There are servants to take care of that for you as long as you remain here."
Gimli shook his head. "Such luxuries," he said. "But that reminds me. One of the sewing-girls said to tell you that it is time to prepare for dinner."
"Of course. I must dress." Legolas got up and opened a drawer, searching for the clothes he would need. He found a twilight-blue tunic and leggings, and a black overtunic.
"What was your father speaking of earlier?" Gimli ventured.
"When?"
"When he said that you were having problems."
Legolas grimaced. "Strained was the word he used. Don't trouble yourself about it, friend. It is a matter of small importance." He was sure Gimli would not understand; with the scarcity of Dwarf women it was not unusual for a Dwarf to be a lifelong bachelor, and thus there was never any pressure.
Gimli shrugged it off and changed the subject. "What is this celebration going to be like?"
"Banquet would be a better word. You'll probably enjoy it, as the meal is sure to be made up of grand delicacies. There may be a speech by my father, and he may ask me to say a few words. Nothing of import, just how happy he is to see me home and how happy I am to be here...oh, and he will likely introduce you and put some politics into the evening. Just don't listen too closely and the evening will be over soon enough."
"You don't enjoy feasting?"
Legolas shook his head. "Eating is one thing. Speeches are another." He shut the door of his room, since Gimli had neglected to do so when he came in. "Don't let anyone know this," he said, "but I plan to leave early. No one will miss me if Father gets started talking about how he wants to reestablish communication with the Dwarven kingdoms."
Gimli chuckled. "It seems a bit strange that I am the one that is younger and yet you are the one with the hot blood and impatience of youth still upon you."
Legolas smiled at that.
Legolas's predictions had been correct: the food was delicious and the speeches were boring. After acknowledging the return of his son, Thranduil introduced Gimli to his court and went off on a tangent about the future relations between the Elves of Mirkwood and the Dwarves.
The banquet was held in a large tent outside the front of the palace. Behind the head table was the main entrance to the Royal House, and across from it the tent was open to the cool night air.
Legolas waited patiently for the opportune moment. With all the servants taking care of the guests, it wouldn't be difficult to blend in with the crowd and get away if he could just get up from the table without calling attention to himself. He wasn't even at the head table with Thranduil and his closest advisors. The only reason he could come up with for that was that he was seated next to Gimli, and despite everything being said, it was just too big of a jump to allow a Dwarf up at the head table. However, Legolas didn't really mind that, because it was working to his advantage.
Suddenly, the moment was there. Everyone at the table was completely focused on the speech, except Gimli, who was focused on the food and knew better than to spoil Legolas' escape.
Legolas simply stood up and mixed in with the servants that were moving up and down the table, refilling glasses and taking away empty plates. Even though the servants were all in uniforms, in the rush of people, no one recognized exactly who the banqueter among them was. Legolas headed towards the open clearing outside rather than back into the palace. He kept his eyes down the whole time and no one noticed the Prince of Mirkwood walking right out into the night.
Once outside the tent, Legolas allowed himself to breathe again. He walked around the side of the tent, wondering what he would do with the time. He didn't want to go inside since the night was so beautiful. Just as he started walking towards the back of the tent in order to go down to a stream that was behind the palace, he was caught.
"My lord?"
In the light streaming out from the tent stood a lovely young elven girl wearing the simple white dress that was the uniform worn by the serving-girls on special occasions. Her pale red hair caught glints of the candlelight from within. She stood looking at him, questions in her eyes. Legolas barely had time to let any of it register before instinct kicked in. He took her by the hands and pulled her out of the light before anyone noticed her talking to him.
"My lady, please do not betray my presence here."
The shocked look on her face softened and she immediately sought to reassure him. "Oh, I am certain no one minds, my lord. In fact, if you wish to listen there are empty chairs at a few of the tables..."
"No, no, quite the opposite, my lady. Now if you'll excuse me, I wish to get away before my absence is noticed. I beg of you your silence."
She frowned. "Granted, but why? I thought it was an honor to be invited to the King's banquet."
Legolas tilted his head. He was beginning to understand her impressions of him. "Do you not know who I am, my lady? You do not know the name Legolas?"
She seemed to be getting frustrated with him. "I assume you are one favored by the King and named for our Prince. I am a servant in the household but I am not yet familiar with all of the King's court."
Legolas smiled, realizing that she did not recognize him. "So you're new, then. I was sure I knew all the servants by name, but your face is unfamiliar. How long have you been serving?"
"I am Lalaith Silverflow, my lord. I have been serving for only a month."
"That explains it. I have been traveling until recently. I am Legolas Greenleaf, like the Prince, as you said. Would you care to join me for a stroll among the trees? I would enjoy the company." Legolas was perfectly content to let her go on thinking that he was only named after the Prince of Mirkwood, and the offer was made impetuously.
Lalaith glanced back towards the tent. "I am supposed to be serving right now."
"Will you get in very much trouble?" he tried.
She kept watching the tent. "I do not know." She turned back to look at him. "Your offer is very tempting..."
He read the pleading in her eyes and knew that she found the pomp, circumstance, and speechmaking almost as boring as he did. He smiled. "My lady, do not worry over it. If you are missed in the first place it would surprise me, but even if you are, I will see to it that no harm befalls you." When she hesitated, he continued, "I have enough influence with the King to see that you are not punished for this. I will accept the blame."
She finally took a step towards him. "It would be my honor, my lord, to accompany you."
"Do me one favor, please," he said.
"Yes, my lord?"
"That's exactly it. Stop calling me your lord. Tonight, to you, I am just Legolas."
She nodded. "Very well...Legolas."
"And may I call you Lalaith, or would that be too familiar, my lady?"
She shook her head. "I am not one to favor formalities. Lalaith will be fine."
He smiled and took her arm upon his. As they walked toward the stream, he tried to start a conversation. "Tell me, Lalaith, what are your duties?"
"I help cook and serve, carry water, kitchen duties," she said. "I don't think it's an existence you will find very interesting. Perhaps you could tell me about yours."
Legolas paused a moment, gathering his thoughts. He did not want to lie to this girl, but he did not want to talk of his life anymore. The whole point in being outside the tent in the first place was to get away from the things he was bored with. "My existence is not any more worthy of conversation than anyone else's, and in fact, I am tired of discussing it. Could we keep the subject away from our daily lives?"
"As you wish, Legolas, but what shall we discuss?"
"Anything," he said. "Your name, for instance."
"My name?" she queried, unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile.
He smiled at her. "It means laughter, does it not?"
"Yes...." She frowned with her eyebrows but smiled with her lips and tried to figure out where he was going with that.
"Well, what a wonderful thing to be named for," he said. "People must smile every time they see you coming."
She laughed a little at that.
"See? No wonder they named you Laughter."
She smiled. "Where are we going?"
"To the stream behind the palace. Have you ever seen it in the moonlight?"
"Not up close. I draw water from it throughout the day, though."
Legolas smiled. "You'll gain a new appreciation of it, then. It's completely different under the full moon."
She looked up at him. "If you can answer without telling me about your everyday existence," she said, "Why did you leave the celebration?"
He sighed. "After you've attended two or three of these so-called 'celebrations', they get very boring. Politics are infused in every aspect of them. I am loyal to my King but he does enjoy speechmaking more than he ought. If there was more singing and dancing and less protocol they might be fun."
She reflected on that. "Nobody really looked like they were having fun," she said, remembering.
"So I left," he said. "And I find that I am having a much better time talking to you."
He detected a streak of spunk in her smile. "As much of an honor as it is to serve in the house of the King, it was getting a bit tedious tonight," Lalaith admitted.
"Why is it such an honor? I never have understood that."
She shrugged. "May I be frank with you, Legolas?"
"Certainly."
"My father told me that an elf-maiden who has decorum enough to be permitted by the King to serve in the palace easily has decorum enough to find a suitable groom for herself."
"Ah." Legolas nodded. "It seems that it always comes back to marriage, at least where parents are concerned. What do you think of it? Is that why you decided to serve here?"
"Oh, no, I took the opportunity simply out of curiosity. I have always thought that the girls who get to serve were so elegant and graceful and I never thought that I was good enough to be one. When given the chance I jumped to take it. I enjoy it here, in the palace. I wouldn't mind serving forever, just to be able to stay here."
"Really?" He tilted his head to look at her. He'd never thought of his home that way and the opinion surprised him.
"Yes. It's that beautiful here. My family is not that far away, I can walk and be home in an hour."
Legolas nodded.
She bit her lip. "I think Father would like for me to stay only a year or two, though, and then get married."
"Is that what you want? To get married, I mean." He found himself sympathizing with her plight, wishing it didn't have to be that way for her. Of course, nothing was set in stone, apparently. She still had the freedom to make those choices, and it was uncommon for a marriage to be forced, but Legolas knew of a few girls who had been persuaded to go against their original decisions in the matter. He supposed that after that year or two, Lalaith's father would introduce her to a noble Elf gentleman and a wedding would take place soon after, no matter what she thought of him.
Lalaith shook her head. "No. I mean, I don't know. I suppose if the right man came along, then maybe, but I can think of no one that I know whom I would want to marry." She paused. "Since you were bold enough to ask that, Legolas, what about you? Do you wish to marry?"
He shook his head. "I find myself in much the same situation. I know my father would like for me to find a bride and settle down, but I want to be able to travel when I wish and see my friends--they're scattered throughout Middle-Earth, from Gondor to the Shire. Perhaps if I met a lady who would travel with me, then I would consider it. But I am not going to try to find her. If it's meant to be, we'll meet someday."
"That's a lovely thought," Lalaith said. She smiled again, with a faraway look in her eyes.
By this time they had reached the stream, and were standing on its gravelly banks. "Look at how the water catches the moonlight as it moves," Legolas whispered. "And how the wet stones shine."
She nodded. "You're right. It's beautiful."
Trees that grow beside water have strange roots at varying heights, since the water level is constantly changing. By this stream one tree in particular had a rather large root that stuck out from waist height and arched down toward the water. "I often use this as a bench," Legolas said, leading her to it and helping her to sit down. She leaned against the trunk of the tree and he sat beside her.
Suddenly she had a question. "Where have you traveled to already?"
"Almost everywhere," he said. "Except Mordor, of course."
She laughed again. "Tell me about it," she said.
"About what?"
"Traveling. What other places are like. I've never been outside of Mirkwood."
"Really? You must go sometime. Rivendell is a sight to be seen in the autumn, but not very unlike here. Minas Tirith, the White City of Gondor, is beautiful, too. Seven rings of buildings all made of white marble. Even the dwellings in the lowest circle are like palaces. And the Shire is enchanting at any time of year, both for its scenery and its inhabitants."
He had captured her attention and her fascination. "What about the Shire?" Lalaith asked. "I have heard of the place and its Halflings but I have never heard what it looks like."
"Well, if you ever meet a Halfling, refer to it as a Hobbit and they'll like you right away, because that's their name for themselves. And if you ever go indoors in the Shire, watch your head! The Hobbits are only half our height, and they make their buildings half normal size."
She laughed once again, and Legolas wondered if perhaps her parents had heard her lilting laugh before they chose her name. She also seemed to laugh frequently, compared to the aristocratic Elves he usually assoiciated with.
"You remind me of my Hobbit friends, actually," he told her. "They're always quick with a joke and love to laugh and be joyful. In some ways I wish Elves were more like them."
She nodded. "I think we do get too caught up in formalities at times," she agreed. "That's why I like the kitchen. Since it's all women in there we tend to be a little freer in what we say. Sometimes serving is actually more fun than work."
He nodded. "I've noticed that I tend to talk more when I'm away visiting friends than when I'm here at home."
"I talk more in the kitchen than anywhere else...tonight being an exception," she said. "I hope I'm not talking too much."
"Not at all. If more Elves were like you, I'd stay around here much more."
She blushed. "I'm glad I'm pleasant company."
He didn't answer that. He was waching the water.
"You are, too. Pleasant, I mean," she said.
"Thank you." He turned to look at her, and caught a glimpse of the tent out of the corner of his eye. People were filing out of the front and going off in different directions. "Look," he told her.
Lalaith did look. "Oh, the feast is over! I must get back to the kitchens and help with the dishes. It's been very pleasant, Legolas, but they will miss me if I don't hurry." She had already risen to her feet and was about to walk off, but he caught her by the wrist.
"Wait," he said.
"I have to go--"
"I know, but if you must go now, at least agree to see me again. You're delightful company, better than I've had in a long time."
She smiled. "When?"
"Can you get away and meet me here tomorrow evening...say, for sunset? We could watch it together."
"If I hurry with my chores, I can do that."
"And this will be our secret?" he asked.
She tilted her head. "Why?"
"Because I was supposed to be there for all the speeches. If they find out that I left, I may be in trouble, and since I've arrived home I've had no other time in which I could have plausibly met you. Please keep it secret?" He pled with his eyes and she couldn't resist.
"All right. I won't tell anyone. I'll be here tomorrow."
He smiled and let go of her wrist, watching her run to the kitchen.
He lingered for a moment, wondering if he ever could have gotten her to have that conversation with him if she had recognized him as Prince.
There were a few servants already in the kitchen when Lalaith arrived, but no one seemed to notice that she had been gone. She immediately started scraping off plates. However, Elen walked in a few moments later and immediately confronted her. "Where did you disappear to?"
"What?" Lalaith pretended to be surprised. Of course Elen would have noticed.
"After I took wine to Lady Linwë, I didn't see you again. Where were you?"
"I was serving. I didn't see you either."
"You can't lie. You're terrible at it."
"Is that a bad thing?" Lalaith asked. She thought it was rather funny, because she had just told the truth. She had been serving--before she left--and she hadn't seen Elen.
"Don't change the subject. Where were you?"
"Fine, Elen. I was here. I got tired of walking back and forth so I started on dishes." That was also true. Lalaith had been there--for at least five minutes. She had gotten tired of walking back and forth, and then when she got back she started on dishes rather than walk back to an empty dining tent.
Elen narrowed her eyes. "Fine. You're not going to tell me, so stick to that story. But don't think I believe you for a minute."
Lalaith just laughed at her. "Have it your way."
"So, how did it go last night, laddie?" Gimli asked.
Legolas looked up, startled. They were in the library playing a game similar to chess and the question had come out of the clear blue. Surely Gimli did not know about Lalaith...
"Did you get away with it, or does your father know you sneaked away?" Gimli pressed.
Legolas sighed in relief, and smiled. "Oh. No, I got away." He moved one of his pieces. "Your turn."
"That was a bad move, laddie." Gimli moved one of his pieces and declared, "I win."
"What?" Legolas looked over the configuration on the board before him. "Indeed you do...strange. Usually I play much better."
Gimli leaned back in his chair with a smug look on his face. "Admit it. You're distracted."
Legolas looked over at him. Maybe he did know...
"You just can't handle being in the presence of such an obvious champion."
Legolas smiled. "Watch yourself, rock-dweller."
"I'm not the one who lost, pointy-ears."
They continued trading insults until one of the manservants entered and told them dinner was about to be served.
"What are we going to do after dinner?" Gimli asked as they walked down the hall towards Thranduil's dining room.
"I'm afraid you'll have to fend for yourself. I have a previous engagement, and you won't be welcome." Legolas actually wouldn't have minded for Gimli and Lalaith to meet, especially since she seemed curious about the world outside Mirkwood, but it was well-known that the Prince was responsible for bringing a Dwarf into the Woodland Realm, and Lalaith would surely figure him out.
"What am I supposed to do?" Gimli asked.
"You saw the library. Find a book. I think you'll find Elvish books quite entertaining, with illustrations that seem to come alive."
Gimli's eyes widened. "I might just do that."
Lalaith had never been so quick about her tasks. Just the thought of reuniting with Legolas, even if only for five minutes of conversation, was enough motivation to keep her busy from the moment she rose in the morning. She could hardly believe how much she was anticipating the rendezvous.
"You're certainly having a productive day," one of the older women remarked. "But I think once you've swept up the kitchen you'll be finished."
"Thank you," Lalaith said, cheerfully. Elen had just left to help serve dinner to the King, the Prince, and the honored Dwarf, and sunset was fast approaching. She found a broom and swept the entire kitchen in a matter of minutes. Luckily, she got done and left before Elen got back to ask her questions.
She raced down to the stream and sat on the tree-bench. She'd beaten Legolas there and would have to wait.
A/N: And so will you! Actually, go on, the next chappie's up. Review this first, though, if you would be so kind...