Beta: Dragonfly the Dedicated
Someone—I think it was Farflung—said it would be interesting to see what would happen if Gimli encountered Edwen Nana. Such a plot bunny could not be resisted!
"Are you sure about this?" grumbled Gimli. "The last time a member of my family visited Mirkwood, the accommodations were not very good—and the food was even worse!"
"Gimli, mellon-nîn," Legolas assured him, "my father is most anxious to meet you. You will be treated like one of the family, I promise you."
"Oh, that's good," replied Gimli sourly. He had heard the tale of how Legolas had run away from Mirkwood as an elfling. Seemingly Thranduil hadn't always gotten on with his own blood-kin, so what could a Dwarf expect of him? Nevertheless, so deep was the Dwarf's affection for Legolas, that he subsided into silence, only muttering from time to time something that sounded like 'dungeons' and 'bread and water'.
The two were still several miles away from the Great Hall, and Legolas eagerly pointed out each landmark that they passed.
"There is the spot where I once left behind some of my hair in a spider's web."
And later: "Yonder is where Gilglîr had to slip out of his cloak in order to escape from a spider's web."
And again: "That was where Tawarmaenas was trapped naked in a spider's web after he had gone swimming."
And once more: "Over there Estel had to cut Glorfindel's hair in order to free him from a spider's web."
Gimli erupted again. "Legolas," he exclaimed, "are there no landmarks that have naught to do with spiders and their webs!?"
Legolas smiled.
"On this stretch of the trail, no, but I assure you that I will take you many places associated with more pleasant memories."
"Good!" harrumphed Gimli. When they had first entered the Forest of Mirkwood, he had found it less depressing that the agéd and stuffy Fangorn Forest, but he was beginning to reconsider. Fangorn was populated with, among things, Huorns, who did not look kindly upon a Dwarf bearing an axe, but at least they tended not to move (one noteworthy exception: their march to Hornburg, where a great number of Orcs had been swallowed up in the darkness beneath their boughs.) Here in Mirkwood there were no Huorns, but Gimli now feared that at any moment spiders would rappel down silk lines right onto his back. The skin between his shoulder blades itched most uncomfortably at the thought, and he suddenly tightened his grip around Legolas' waist. The Elf yelped.
"Gimli! After all this you are still not comfortable on horseback!?"
"Compared to spiders," Gimli grumbled, "I suppose horses are not so bad. Are we there yet?'
Legolas raised his eyes to the heavens and sighed a prayer to the Valar. Gimli had been uttering the phrase 'Are we there yet?' with increasing frequency over the past several hours, and Legolas was beginning to feel a very unelvenly sense of frustration. He cast about for some way to distract Gimli.
"Gimli, I am packing my saddle bag to journey to Minas Tirith, and in my saddle bag I packed a wafer of lembas."
"I am packing my saddle bag to journey to Minas Tirith," Gimli said promptly, "and in my saddle bag I packed a wafer of lembas and a flagon of ale."
"I am packing my saddle bag to journey to Minas Tirith," Legolas continued, "and in my saddle bag I packed a wafer of lembas, a flagon of ale, and a flute."
Gimli rolled his eyes. Flute indeed!
"I am packing my saddle bag to journey to Minas Tirith, and in my saddle bag I packed a wafer of lembas, a flagon of ale, a flute, and a pipe."
Legolas grimaced. A pipe!
"I am packing my saddle bag to journey to Minas Tirith," the Elf continued grimly, "and in my saddle bag I packed a wafer of lembas, a flagon of ale, a flute, a pipe, and a clean tunic."
Gimli snorted derisively. Leave it to Legolas to waste precious space on a superfluous garment.
"I am packing my saddle bag to journey to Minas Tirith, and in my saddle bag I packed a wafer of lembas, a flagon of ale, a flute, a pipe, a clean tunic, and a pouch of tobacco."
Legolas gritted his teeth.
"I am packing my saddle bag to journey to Minas Tirith," he hissed, "and in my saddle bag I packed a wafer of lembas, a flagon of ale, a flute, a pipe, a clean tunic, a pouch of tobacco, and, and, a bottle of Dorwinion wine."
Gimli grinned. Wine. Things were looking up.
"I am packing my saddle bag to journey to Minas Tirith," he went on cheerfully, "and in my saddle bag I packed a wafer of lembas, a flagon of ale, a flute, a pipe, a clean tunic, a pouch of tobacco, a bottle of Dorwinion wine, and a wedge of cheese."
"Cheese!?"
"Aye, to go with the wine."
"Hmph! Very well. But your dwarven cheese smells very foul, I hope you know."
"You know nothing of cheese. The worse it smells, the better it tastes."
Legolas shook his head but went on.
"I am packing my saddle bag to journey to Minas Tirith, and in my saddle bag I packed a wafer of lembas, a flagon of ale, a flute, a pipe, a clean tunic, a pouch of tobacco, a bottle of Dorwinion wine, a wedge of cheese, and—Ada!"
Gimli was befuddled for a moment by this addition to the saddle bag, but then he realized that Legolas was addressing an Elf of royal bearing who stood directly in front of them, flanked on one side by an Elf whom Gimli assumed must be Gilglîr the Seneschal, and on the other side by a younger Elf who must surely have been Legolas' cousin, Tawarmaenas.
"Mae govannen, Legolas," called the kingly Elf, who was, of course, Thranduil. "Mae govannen, Master Gimli, elf-friend whose loyalty and bravery are renowned throughout all three of the elven realms."
Embarrassed, Gimli muttered into his beard. Thranduil and Legolas shared a love of fine words, seemingly.
Legolas and Gimli dismounted, and their horse was led away by Elves who suddenly materialized from either side. For a fleeting moment, Gimli let slip his surprise. Legolas grinned at him.
"I knew all the time that they were there," Gimli blustered.
"Of course," replied Legolas smoothly, "for you have the eyes of an eagle and the ears of a fox."
Gimli growled at him. Thranduil cleared his throat, interrupting the exchange between Legolas and the Dwarf. The King politely gestured for the two friends to precede him. A short walk later, the party was entering the Great Hall. To his relief, Gimli felt at home at once, for most of the Great Hall lay under ground.
"You have an impressive dwelling here," Gimli enthused, addressing the King for the first time.
"Thank you, Master Gimli," replied Thranduil, "but I am well aware that these halls are nothing as compared to those of Erebor—which are themselves dwarfed, so to speak, by the magnificence of Khazad-dûm."
Gimli beamed. Thranduil was in fact much more gracious than his son. The Dwarf shot a triumphant look at Legolas, but the young Elf did not appear to be paying attention. Well, he would have to rub it in later. The magnificence of Khazad-dûm! Now that was something like!
"You are no doubt tired and wish to refresh yourself," Thranduil was saying. "Baths have been prepared for you. Gilglîr will lead you thence."
Suddenly Gimli's gloating expression became rather fixed. So father and son were alike after all—always thinking of baths. Disguising his gloom as best he could, the Dwarf nodded and reluctantly joined Legolas in following Gilglîr to a chamber in which stood two tubs filled with warm water. On benches by the tubs sat towels and various oils and unguents that smelled of honey and pine needles and athelas. The cloying odor made Gimli feel a little faint. Grumbling into his beard, Gimli stripped and reluctantly climbed into one of the tubs. Then he looked over at Legolas and shook his head in disbelief.
"Legolas," he called, "you are as naked as a new-born mouse."
"Of course I am," Legolas called back. "I am taking a bath. Did you not expect me to remove my clothes?"
"You know what I mean," Gimli shot back. "Aside from that precious mane upon your head, you are practically hairless! Now I, on the other hand," he gloated, looking down at his furry chest, "am well-equipped in that department." Admiringly, the Dwarf stretched out his equally hirsute arms.
"I am well-equipped in other ways," Legolas replied teasingly.
Before Gimli could retort, the door opened, and to the horror of the Dwarf, in strolled a female Elf. Gimli sank down into the water and drew up his knees, hoping that his beard and folded legs combined would cover his parts.
"Legolas," he hissed through his teeth, "there is, ahem, a lady in the chamber."
Legolas, however, seemed unabashed.
"Mae govannen, Edwen Nana," he called cheerily. "Still you will not give over superintending my bath!" Over the years he had become accustomed to these intrusions by his doting nursemaid.
"Of course I will not, Laiqua. It is all very well to allow these servants to haul the water to fill the tubs, but someone has got to check to see that the water is not too scalding or too frigid."
"I assure you, my Lady," called Gimli, "that the water in this tub is perfect in every way. You needn't trouble yourself to check it." The Dwarf was exceptionally red-faced—which is saying a lot, for his complexion was florid to start with.
"Oh, 'tis no trouble at all," Edwen Nana assured him airily as she descended upon him. In best nurse-maid fashion, she dipped an elbow into the water as Gimli shrank to the other side of the tub."
"Hmm. A trifle cool, I should think."
Going to the brazier, she seized the kettle of water that rested upon it, and, returning to Gimli's tub, little by little she poured the contents of the kettle into the cauldron, stopping frequently to check the temperature of the water. At length she was satisfied and turned her attention to the water in Legolas' tub. The young Elf was singing and scrubbing merrily away and paid her no mind. As for Gimli, seeing that Edwen Nana was now preoccupied with Legolas' tub, he began to relax a little, although you may be sure that he kept his legs drawn up.
At length, however, Edwen Nana was satisfied that her belovéd 'Laiqua' would neither freeze nor burn, and she looked about for something else to do. She fixed upon Gimli's hair and beard. Seizing combs, brushes, and clippers, she swooped down upon the unfortunate Dwarf.
"I declare, you look as if you have never cut your hair this last Age, no, nor trimmed your beard, neither!"
Legolas stopped bathing and looked on with great interest. He had often appealed to Gimli to tidy up his hair and his beard—'your head looks like the rear end of a warthog', the Elf had once exclaimed in frustration—but Gimli had always disregarded his appeals. Would Edwen Nana prove more persuasive?
At first it was difficult to say how the nursemaid was getting on. Great plumes of water leaped into the air, and bubbles filled the room. For all his excellent vision, Legolas could not make out what was happening behind the vaporous curtain. Certainly there was a great deal of shrieking and howling, but he did not know what it signified.
At length, however, both the water and the yelling subsided, and the head of Gimli in all its glory was revealed. All tangles had been removed from his hair and—were those curls? And could those be ribbons securing the braids? As for Gimli's beard, well, had this been a later Age, Legolas would have described it as in fashion resembling a Van Dyke. Suffice it to say, that it was dapper and trim. Satisfied, Edwen Nana put her hands on her hips and surveyed the unfortunate Dwarf.
"There now," she said, supremely complacent. "You are much improved, Master Dwarf." Then, no doubt inspired by her success, she turned to gaze upon Legolas, no doubt contemplating what improvements she might effect upon that Elf, well-groomed though he was. Legolas shot up out of his tub and fled from the room without benefit of towel, startling—and no doubt pleasing—several ellith as he fled down the corridor to his chamber.
This was very ungracious of Legolas, for he had left his friend in the lurch, and, now having no other target in view, Edwen Nana proceeded to anoint and sprinkle the Dwarf until he smelled like a garden. It seemed to him that an Age passed before she at length judged him to be sufficiently clean to be released from his bath. He did stop for a towel, but for nothing else, and with it draped around his middle, he too startled—but probably did not please—several ellith as he fled in the footsteps of his friend.
Safe at last in the company of Legolas, Gimli glared balefully at the young Elf. Legolas sought for words to placate and console the Dwarf, who, mortified, soon was gazing into a looking glass.
"Legolas, it took me decades—decades!—to achieve those braids!"
"Gimli, you look elegant, you truly do. You look, you look—"
"—stupid," said Gimli flatly.
Legolas sighed. Gimli's words could not be gainsaid.
"You do not look very stupid," he tried. "And consider this: we will be staying in Mirkwood for several months. The Elves will not find your appearance odd, and perchance no Dwarves will visit. By the time we depart for Esgaroth and then Erebor, you will not look so bad. Why, as soon as we are out of sight of the Great Hall and Edwen Nana, we can hunt up some burrs and stick them in your beard. And some cobwebs in your hair—yes, that will do nicely."
With promises such as these, Gimli was eventually mollified. You may be sure, however, that during the remainder of his stay in Mirkwood, he never entered another tub without first checking to see that the door was barred. And after he departed Mirkwood, some say that he never entered another tub at all! The latter claim seems a trifle farfetched. Still, it must be allowed that many strange things happened at the close of the Third Age and the beginning of the Fourth. It was exceedingly strange than an Elf should bathe a Dwarf; it would have been no stranger had that Dwarf gone on to develop an enduring dislike for soap and water (especially considering that he was not too fond of washing in the first place). Yet it must be remembered that the Dwarf continued to journey in the company of Legolas and is reported to have at last departed with that Elf for the Uttermost West. Somehow this Author doubts that Legolas could have borne several decades, let alone an eternity, in the company of an unwashed Dwarf! Let us believe, then, that Gimli's aversion to cleanliness was only a temporary one and that he at last recovered from his encounter with that most memorable of Elves, the redoubtable Edwen Nana.