It is a truth universally acknowledged that an uncrowned king in possession of a blade reforged must be utterly insufferable.

Elizabeth hammered a sharpened spike into a log and decided that Mr. Elessar (or "Strider", as the hobbits called him) was by far the most disagreeable man in Middle Earth. He had a fine, tall person, handsome features and a noble mien - but his disposition was aloof and his countenance forbidding. The mere sight of her seemed to vex him. He looked at her only to find fault, and addressed her only to criticize her work. Despite her considerable skill at trap-setting, he plainly believed that she had no place among the Fellowship, and had done better to have remained at home.

She secured the spike-studded log to a rope she had passed over an overhanging branch and hauled on the other end, hoisting it high into the air. Then she bent to check the trip wire. It was pulled tight. Any pressure on the wire would set off the trigger mechanism, sending the deadly weight tumbling down upon the head of the unsuspecting intruder. Elizabeth smiled in satisfaction. Eru help any orc that dared to venture here.

She collected her equipment and made her way to the location of the second trap. This one was to be a spiked whip - a flexible bough with nails fixed to the end, pulled back in an arc and secured to a post. When the trip wire was triggered, the whip would be released, embedding the spikes deep in the chest of the enemy. Elizabeth surveyed the surrounding trees. Fixing upon a suitable sapling, she grasped it in one hand and raised her hatchet -

"That one is too slender, Miss Bennett. You would do better to choose its neighbour." The voice was close, nearly in her ear, and Elizabeth had to stifle a scream.

"Mr. Elessar," she said, keeping her voice steady with difficulty. "I did not hear you coming."

"Then you ought to be more attentive. Had I been an orc, you would have been in grave danger."

Had you been an orc, I would have known you a mile off by sound and scent, Elizabeth thought, but she had resolved not to show irritation.

"That is true, Mr. Elessar," she said with as much patience as she could muster. "Trap-setting requires concentration, and since I am wont to lose myself in my task, I asked Mr. Legolas to keep watch while I worked. I cannot believe that he would have failed to note your approach, so I must conclude that he left at your instruction."

Mr. Elessar looked a bit startled. "In fact, Miss Bennet, he did. There are matters that I must discuss with you."

Elizabeth put down her tools and turned to face him. "Then that is fortuitous, sir, for there are matters that I must discuss with you."

Mr. Elessar blinked. A look of pleased surprise seemed to cross his face, but it must have been a trick of the light because the next instant his countenance had taken on its habitual rigidity.

"Indeed? You wished to speak with me?"

Elizabeth drew a parchment from her tool belt and unrolled it. "This is a plan showing the position of the traps surrounding our camp. I have discussed this with the others, and I feel sure that they will not stumble into my traps by accident. But you will recall, sir, that you walked off before I could finish my explanation - "

"That could not be avoided," he said abruptly. "I needed to confer with Gandalf concerning our route." He took the plan from her and put it in his pocket at once. "Thank you, Miss Bennet. I will return this to you once I have perused it."

Elizabeth sputtered. "Mr. Elessar, you have not even allowed me to explain - "

"Miss Bennet, I do in fact know how to read a map. Now please continue your work, that you might finish before nightfall." But he remained where he was, and made no move to leave.

"Is there something else you require, sir?" Elizabeth inquired, restraining her temper with an effort.

"I am watching for orcs, given that Legolas is not here and you are, as you say, wont to lose yourself in your work."

No doubt Mr. Legolas would gladly return if asked, Elizabeth thought with some annoyance. But she bridled her tongue and chopped down the sapling with swift strokes of her hatchet.

Mr. Elessar did not offer to do it for her, as many gentlemen feel compelled to do upon seeing a lady engaged in an occupation other than needlepoint. But his eyes followed her, watching her with such intensity that she began to grow annoyed.

"I hope everything is to your satisfaction," she said with some sharpness.

Mr. Elessar coughed. "I - beg your pardon?"

"You are watching me with such avid concentration," said she, "that I thought there must be something amiss."

"Ah - yes. Yes, indeed." Mr. Elessar looked as though he were racking his brains for something to say. No doubt he was sorting through the extensive list of criticisms he had catalogued in that short time. "I do not know where you learnt that tripwire mechanism that you employ, but the method preferred by the Rangers of the North is far more sensitive. I can show you if you like."

"I am familiar with that method," said Elizabeth, pulling the wire taut. "This is a variant developed by my father. It is less sensitive, true, but also less likely to be triggered by small animals. My father conducted extensive studies and concluded that the overall success rate is higher."

Mr. Elessar blinked, seemingly at a loss for words, but his discomfiture was only momentary. "I see," he said. "Then it was your father who trained you in the art of trap-setting?"

"Indeed, sir, at the inducement of my mother. She felt it might be useful, should my sisters and I fail to snare a husband by more conventional means."

There was silence. Elizabeth glanced up to see Mr. Elessar regarding her with an expression of mild horror.

She sighed. "It was a joke, sir. You must forgive me; I had forgotten that the Dunedain are unfamiliar with the concept."

Mr. Elessar appeared affronted. "We are not - " he began, then trailed off, frowning.

Elizabeth took advantage of his silence to continue her work. He appeared to be deep in thought.

"What sort of man is your father?" Mr. Elessar asked abruptly. "If he is anything like yourself, he must be a singular character."

By 'singular' you mean bizarre, Elizabeth thought, but did not comment on it. In truth, she missed her father terribly and was glad of any opportunity to speak of him.

"My father is a retired general," she said. "He trained all of his daughters in combat and trap-setting. He wished us to be able to defend ourselves should the army of Mordor come upon our city." Elizabeth thought of her father, alone amongst his books, not knowing if she were alive or dead, and felt a stab of pain. "If it comes to that, I believe there will be little hope for any of us. But I think it gave him comfort to try."

Mr. Elessar was watching her carefully. "You care deeply for your father, I can see that."

"I do, sir."

His expression grew resolute, his grey eyes fixed upon her face. "Then I assure you, Miss Bennet, that I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are reunited with him. You have my word."

Elizabeth nearly dropped her tools in astonishment. Was this the same Mr. Elessar who had spent the entire journey insulting her? What had come over the man? But at once she realized that he spoke out of duty - as a Ranger and heir to the throne of Gondor, no doubt he felt bound to protect civilians, even those he found irritating. Still, it was a noble sentiment and one that reflected well on his character.

Neither of them spoke for some time, each preoccupied with their thoughts. Elizabeth reflected that Mr. Elessar had been uncommonly civil, and began to wonder if Gandalf had placed some sort of spell on him.

Presently, Mr. Elessar's gaze fell upon the nearly completed trap, and he moved closer to examine it.

"Would your mother be satisfied with a man of Rohan?" he inquired. "I believe you might manage to entrap one with such a device, as they pay little heed to where they put their feet. A Gondorian, however, would have more sense."

Elizabeth looked up in surprise and saw a small but definite smile playing about his mouth. The effect was not displeasing.

"In my experience," she said, "Gondorians are often so preoccupied with their own superiority that they are blinded to the world around them."

"I would know little about that, having spent much of my life in the Northern wilds."

"It is easy to take a gentleman out of Gondor," said Elizabeth. "It is far more difficult to take Gondor out of the gentleman."

Mr. Elessar raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could reply, shouts rang out from the direction of the camp.

"Take that back, you leaf-munching twit!" roared the unmistakable voice of Mr. Gimli.

"You shall taste my steel, you insolent dwarven clod!"

Mr. Elessar sighed, his face settling into an expression of weariness. "You must excuse me, Miss Bennet. My presence is required, lest those two fools take it upon themselves to reduce our numbers to seven."

"Shall I accompany you?" Elizabeth offered. "I would be happy to offer whatever assistance -"

Mr. Elessar's eyes narrowed. "Do you believe me unable to manage this myself?"

"No, sir, I - "

"Do you think that in all my years leading the Rangers I never once had to resolve a dispute between two men?"

"I did not - "

"You must think me wholly ill-suited to the throne of Gondor, if even a small matter such as this is beyond my abilities."

"You are unreasonable, sir!" Elizabeth cried. "No one, having met you, could doubt your abilities. I only meant that, having lived with three squabbling younger sisters, I have developed some skill in settling arguments!"

Mr. Elessar stared at her. "Are you truly comparing two of the greatest warriors of our Age to a pack of quarreling girls?"

"I do not think the comparison unsound."

Elizabeth thought she saw his mouth twitch before he forced it into a rigid line. "I must decline your kind offer, Miss Bennet. Please return to the camp as soon as possible. Night is falling and it would not do well to linger here." He turned to depart.

"The best mediation tactic is a distraction," she said to his departing back. "Do not attempt to reason with them, or you will find yourself listening to an endless litany of who said what."

He stopped, his posture rigid. "Miss Bennet, did you fail to understand me when I said - "

"Ask Mr. Legolas to return to watch over me, and tell Mr. Gimli to see to the hobbits and ensure that they are in good spirits. They cannot refuse such tasks without appearing childish, and neither will wish to lose face in front of the other."

She waited, but Mr. Elessar gave no indication of having heard.

"Finish your traps and return to the camp, Miss Bennet," he said and stalked off.

As she watched his receding form, Elizabeth realized that he had originally come to tell her something. Elizabeth sighed. No doubt he had been meaning to scold her about something or other, and would find time to do so later.

Elizabeth was midway through the fourth trap when Mr. Legolas joined her. He had the stealth of the elves, so there was not a sound to announce his approach. She had only a vague sense of being watched that she had come to associate with his presence. She smiled to herself, realizing that Mr. Elessar had heeded her advice and sent him back for her."

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," she said aloud. "Why must you and Mr. Gimli quarrel so much?"

"The dwarf started it." Mr. Legolas dropped from the treetops, landing soundlessly beside her. "He really is a dreadful fellow."

"I doubt he would give a more favourable report of you," Elizabeth said sternly. "And think how the hobbits must feel - far from their homes, beset by dangers, with their only protectors constantly at each other's throats?"

Mr. Legolas looked chastened. "I shall try to have more restraint," he said. "I hardly know why that hairy little fellow is so aggravating to me. But let us speak no more of him. I am quite sick of dwarves."

Bending down, he turned his attention to her trap. "Why, this is nearly as good as elven workmanship!" he said in astonishment. "Miss Bennet, you are quite remarkably clever for a human."

Elizabeth smiled wryly. "Do not say that to Mr. Elessar," she cautioned, "or you might find yourself at odds with your friend."

Mr. Legolas looked at her in surprise. "I hardly think so," he said. "He has spoken favourably of your skill many times."

"You are kind to say so," Elizabeth said politely. She did not believe that Mr. Elessar had uttered a single good word concerning her, but decided not to press the matter. "If I may ask - how did you and he become friends? It is only - " she hesitated, not wanting to abuse Mr. Elessar to his friend, "- it is only that you seem so different."

Mr. Legolas got to his feet, smiling. "I do not believe we are so different as that. It is true that Men, given the short span of years available to them, attribute momentous significance to everything that concerns them - and Aragorn moreso than most."

"Quite true," said Elizabeth, unable to stop herself.

"Nonetheless, he bears a greater burden than other Men. He has led the harsh life of a Ranger, with the added knowledge that he must one day reclaim the throne of Gondor. It is not surprising that he is serious. And yet, once one is acquainted with him, one could hardly wish for a better or more loyal companion."

"I see," Elizabeth said slowly. "I suppose I have not known him very long at all."

She could not shake her belief that Mr. Elessar held some specific dislike towards her. After all, he had met Mr. Gimli at near to the same time as herself, and was not nearly so critical of him. Yet there was no sense upsetting Mr. Legolas by saying so - and she did not wish to risk that he would broach the matter with Mr. Elessar. That could only mean more agitation for everyone.

"I shall show you how I construct the next trap, Mr. Legolas," she said, moving deeper into the forest. "You will have to admit that this one surpasses even elven craftsmanship."

Mr. Legolas laughed, following her. "Miss, Bennet, I am afraid that is quite impossible."

As they returned to the camp, they heard shouting once again. Elizabeth noted to her relief that she could hear the hobbits laughing. She stepped into the clearing and found herself facing a most extraordinary scene. It had evidently begun as an attempt to instruct the hobbits in swordfighting, but it had degenerated into utter chaos.

Mr. Elessar was fighting valiantly against , but he was losing ground rapidly because young Mr. Took was seated on his shoulders trying to cover his eyes. Messrs. Brandybuck and Gamgee clung to his boots, doing their utmost to trip him up with their practice swords. Mr. Took was laughing so hard that he was in danger of falling off. Mr. Baggins, seated some distance away, was not participating, but there was a tiny smile on his pale face and his eyes had lost much of their habitual sadness. Mr. Elessar, incredibly, was laughing - and his grim countenance was so profoundly altered as to be unrecognizable.

Elizabeth stared, unable to believe what she saw.

Mr. Legolas nudged her, smiling. "Do you see, Miss Bennet? My gloomy friend does have his moments."

"I can see that," Elizabeth said, smiling.

She felt certain that the merriment would stop if Mr. Elessar saw her, and she had no desire to interrupt when they were all sorely in need of laughter. She turned to slip away unnoticed, when young Mr. Merry happened to glance in her direction.

"Miss Elizabeth!" he cried. "You must come and help poor Strider! He's losing!"

At the sound of her name, Mr. Elessar stopped moving. He dropped his sword and pulled Mr. Took's arm away from his eyes. When his gaze fell upon her face, he went white and then bright red.

"Miss Bennet," he said, in tones of deepest mortification. "I did not see you there."

Elizabeth was at a loss for words. Before she could speak, Mr. Elessar had turned and stalked off towards the forest.

"Aragorn!" Mr. Legolas hurried after him. "Where are you going?"

"I am going on patrol." He seemed to remember all of a sudden that the young hobbit was still seated on his shoulders. He lifted him off and deposited him unceremoniously on the ground without breaking stride. "Someone ought to make sure that there are no orcs creeping up on us."

"You cannot go alone!"

The two of them vanished into the trees, arguing in Sindarin. Suddenly, there was a great snap, a strangled cry, and shouts of alarm. Then they could clearly hear the Elf laughing and Mr. Elessar replying angrily.

Elizabeth sighed. Mr. Elessar, evidently, had neglected to look at her map. Fortunately for him, he had found the only non-lethal trap of them all.

"Miss Bennet!" Legolas' voice was trembling with suppressed mirth. "I believe we are in need of your assistance - "

"No, Miss Bennet, do not come here!" Mr. Elessar cried. Then, low and furious: "Legolas, you fool, stop laughing and help me out of this thing at once!"

END

A/N: The next installment will feature Alex from A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess!