"A worthy symbol, Mistress Stronginthearm!" Gimli boomed, raising his
teacup in salute.
"Margaretta," the shopkeeper corrected automatically. She returned the salute, but she was paying more attention to Legolas. The elf had a strange non-expression on his face. He was staring at the Nargothondian, and the tips of his ears trembled.
"Master Elf?" Margaretta asked, suddenly concerned. She didn't know much about elves. He could be sick. She glanced at Gimli, but he did not seem worried.
"It is Legolas, as we agreed, remember?" he replied, giving her his full attention. "Thank you for telling us your story," he continued, his smile soft and sad. "It could not have been easy for you."
"It wasn't," the shopkeeper agreed. "But now I think on it, I feel better. I'd never held much with talking things to death, but.." she shrugged. "I feel better now."
"Grief should not be kept inside. It eats away the soul," Legolas said seriously. He knew what he was talking about. He'd watched elves die of grief.
"Well, no souls will be eaten in my establishment. Only tarts!" Margaretta said, laughing.
"I thought 'twas Legolas's turn to be teased," Gimli protested.
"It is, but I could not resist. My apologies, Gimli," Margaretta smiled.
"Harrumph! If you are too awestruck to tease him, then I shall simply have to do so myself," the dwarf huffed. Gimli glanced around for suitable to ammunition. His eyes twinkled, and a tiny, sly smile shaped his lips as his gaze settled on the Nargothondian. Legolas followed his dwarf's gaze, and groaned. He knew what was coming.
Sure enough, Gimli said, "Master Elf! You still have not chosen that gift you so badly need. It would not do for you to return to your lady empty handed. And I am certain Margaretta needs some patronage, as you took up her whole afternoon with storytelling. Since the Nargothondian is out of the question, you, my friend, have some shopping to do."
"Gimli, please," Legolas began. Gimli was having none of that.
"Come now, Legolas! Surely it is not so difficult for an elf to choose a gift for his lady. Did you not tell me as we entered that a blade is more appropriate for her than jewelry? There are blades here aplenty. Pick one!" To Margaretta, he said, "Elves have no clue how to choose regard gifts. He will need help. Much help."
Margaretta could not help but laugh. Legolas looked trapped, and thoroughly put out. He stood, and stared down at the dwarf in what was supposed to be an intimidating manner. It only made Margaretta laugh harder.
"You just will not let this go until I chose something, will you?" Legolas sighed.
"Absolutely not!" Gimli chortled. "And even then, I shall still most likely jest at your expense."
Legolas glanced skyward in resignation. Then he smiled down at his dwarf and shook his head ruefully. He knew when he was bested. "What would you recommend, my friend?"
"That one!" Gimli immediately replied. He pointed to the sword next to the Nargothondian, the one he'd been admiring while Margaretta prepared tea. "It is perfect."
Margaretta saw where Gimli was pointing, and stopped laughing. She gave them both a long, searching look. Then she went over to the wall, took down the sword in question, and handed it silently to Legolas.
The elf stared at the shopkeeper for a moment before taking the sword. He inspected it carefully. It was obviously used. The blade showed wear, but nothing some attention would not remedy. Legolas ran a thumb over its edge, and got cut. He tested the balance, and found it exquisite. The sword was simply adorned, though a bit light for his taste. Gimli was right. It was perfect, even though it was not new.
Not new. Obviously used. Hanging right next to the Nargothondian. A suspicion formed. "Who did this belong to, Margaretta?" Legolas asked quietly.
The shopkeeper inspected the sword as though seeing it for the first time. "That one?" she asked unnecessarily. "That was Illya's."
Suspicion confirmed. "I cannot take this from you," Legolas whispered.
"You can buy it from me. It is for sale. I have better remembrances of my daughter," Margaretta retorted. The elf looked about to argue further, when the door banged open.
"Aunt 'Retta! I'm home! I got that wire you wanted! And some apples! Why's the shop closed? What's for sup...." a bellowing whirlwind burst into the shop. The whirlwind became a gangly boy, all knees and elbows. Neither elf nor dwarf was a good judge of human children's ages, but this one seemed just beginning the journey to manhood. He stopped midsentence and stared at them. "Who are you?" he demanded.
"Halorec! That is no way to talk to my guests! They are Master Gimli and Master Legolas of the Fellowship of the Ring," Margaretta chided. She turned to Gimli and Legolas. "Please forgive my nephew his insolence. He usually has better manners," she said, giving Halorec a meaningful look.
The boy was not impressed. Stories of the olden days just didn't interest him, unless someone he knew personally had been involved. Thus, he knew very little of the Fellowship. Still, he could tell he'd be in trouble if he didn't try to be polite, so he mumbled something that might have been "Sorry, pleased to meet you," before going back to staring at these strangers.
When he noticed the sword Legolas held, he bristled visibly. "Why are you messing about with my cousin's sword?" he asked belligerently.
"Halorec!" Margaretta exclaimed, ready to give her nephew the rough side of her tongue.
Gimli saw a storm brewing and gestured for Margaretta to lean in so he could speak quietly to her. "Legolas will handle the boy."
Surely enough, Halorec's attitude had not fazed the elf at all. "I intend to purchase it, as a gift for a friend," he answered mildly.
Halorec looked Legolas up and down. He had heard elves were valiant warriors, but he wanted to be sure whoever got Illya's sword deserved it. "What kind of friend?" he wanted to know.
"A lady," Legolas began before being interrupted.
"A Lady?!? I don't know that I want a needle-pointing lady to have my cousin's sword," the boy sneered.
"Mithsewwen is hardly a 'needle-pointing lady'. When first I met her, she was pointing an arrow at my Fellowship," Legolas informed Halorec, with a smile for Gimli at the memory. "She defended Lorien all three times Sauron attacked, only succumbing when she took a blow meant for another."
"When she saved the Lady Galadriel's life nearly at the expense of her own, you mean. Tell it as we were told, Master Elf," Gimli put in. He had developed a very high opinion of Legolas's lady-friend when he learned of that. It was one reason he teased his elf so much about her.
Now that impressed Halorec. Even he had heard stories of the Lady of the Golden Wood, who sailed away West a long time ago, taking the beauty of the Elves with her. Besides, he knew Sauron meant orcs, so that meant... "Your lady killed orcs?" he asked. Legolas nodded. "Lots of orcs?" Halorec pestered. The elf nodded again. "Y'know, Illya killed a hundred orcs with that before she died. If your lady killed orcs, too, then I guess you can buy it," the boy finally decided.
"I thank you," Legolas replied seriously.
Margaretta wanted to die of embarrassment. Gimli was having a hard time suppressing a laugh at her discomfort. The shopkeeper shot him a glare before turning her attention to her wayward nephew.
"Now that THAT is settled," she said with barely concealed sarcasm that went right over Halorec's head, "why don't you, young man, go upstairs and begin washing potatoes for supper?"
"But Aunt! I still want to know why the shop was closed when I came home," the lad protested.
"Your aunt was telling us the story of the Nargothondian, and her role in the Battle of Dale," Gimli spoke before Margaretta's thinning patience with the boy snapped completely. He had no wish to listen to the tongue-lashing the lad had coming.
"Did she?" Halorec asked, surprised. His aunt usually refused to talk about those days, though he never tired of hearing about them. "About time she told that story! She was brilliant! You should have seen her. She came in here and tore the sword off the wall and struck down SEVEN ORCS with one blow and..."
"HALOREC!" Margaretta interrupted. Once she had his attention, she gestured upstairs. "The potatoes? Else we will not have any dinner. Though if you move now, I may have time to bake those apples with honey and brown sugar."
Like most boys his age, Halorec thought primarily with his stomach. The threat of no dinner coupled with the promise of his favorite dessert pried him away from these fascinating guests as nothing else would have. He was upstairs almost before Margaretta finished speaking.
"He seems a lively lad," Gimli commented.
"He is. Too lively for his own good, sometimes. Raising a boy is very different from what I was used to with my daughters," Margaretta answered.
"That reminds me, you never told us what happened to your other daughter," the dwarf said.
"Ana? She married some Ranger I'd met twice and moved to Minas Tirith. She writes often, though. Last I heard, he'd turned blacksmith and they were expecting their third child," she said, smiling softly.
"It is good you know joy, as well as pain," Legolas commented. The elf was still holding Illya's sword. Margaretta looked at it and sighed.
"I would like to give you that as a gift, but I am afraid I sorely need the sale. What think you a fair price?" she said.
"No, 'tis quite proper for a shopkeeper to require payment for her goods. Besides, you already gave me a gift, in your story," the elf replied.
Margaretta smiled, flattered. Once negotiations began, however, she showed herself a shrewd businesswoman. Legolas also was no novice at haggling; being the son of a king he'd had experience. Gimli settled back to watch the fun.
Soon, a price was agreed upon, the sword scabbarded and wrapped and handed over to Legolas. Margaretta turned to Gimli. "And what about you, Master Dwarf? Do you need anything from my shop?"
Gimli made a show of thinking for a moment. He browsed around the store while Legolas smiled indulgently behind his back. Eventually, the dwarf noticed a fine display of belt knives. "I may purchase a belt knife, as I am notoriously hard on mine. But only if you remember to call me Gimli," he said.
"Gimli went through three of them in the Fellowship," Legolas put in, "and five more since. 'Tis a bit of a joke between us now."
Margaretta grinned. "Well, Gimli, these are the finest knives available, of a new design, and will stand up to the hardest use," the shopkeeper said.
"In that case, I will buy two. My father's name-day is coming up, and he is even worse on knives than I am," Gimli laughed. He selected two off the tray and the haggling began again.
All too soon, however, business was at an end, and the elf and the dwarf prepared to leave. Gimli bowed to Margaretta, took her hand and kissed it. "You are truly a lady of intelligence and strength, as well as beauty. I fully enjoyed our stay here today. Thank you for your goods, your story, and your hospitality. We will meet again, so that I may have more of those most excellent tarts."
Margaretta laughed. "You are most welcome, Gimli. I sincerely hope your father has a happy name-day, and enjoys his knife. May they serve you both well. I look forward to our next meeting."
Once Gimli relinquished the shopkeeper's hand, Legolas claimed it. He kissed it gently, a mere brush of the lips before releasing it. Margaretta shivered, and blushed from bosom to hairline. "It has been a true pleasure, Margaretta," the elf said gently. "Elen sila lumenn omentielvo."
"I'm sorry, I don't speak Elvish," Margaretta babbled. "What does that mean?"
" 'A star shines on the hour of our meeting'," the elf replied with a smile.
"That it does, Legolas, that it does," Margaretta agreed. "But I am afraid I must shoo you out now. If Halorec is not fed soon, he will become a rampaging monster, and I do not wish to deal with that. It has been a most enjoyable afternoon. Thank you for coming here."
"You are very welcome, Margaretta. Come, Gimli. Let us visit the Crown and Hammer, and see if their wine cellar is as good as it once was," the elf said.
"An excellent idea, Master Elf," Gimli replied. "Farewell, good Margaretta."
"Farewell, Gimli. Farewell, Legolas. I hope your lady appreciates your gift," Margaretta said.
"I am certain she will," Legolas replied. "Fare thee well, Margaretta of the Blade."
With that, the elf and the dwarf left Burleigh and Stronginthearm's. Margaretta went upstairs to cook supper, humming happily. The day had turned out much better than she ever expected. She returned to her life with a lightened heart, thinking herself blessed to have met and entertained such remarkable people.
"Margaretta," the shopkeeper corrected automatically. She returned the salute, but she was paying more attention to Legolas. The elf had a strange non-expression on his face. He was staring at the Nargothondian, and the tips of his ears trembled.
"Master Elf?" Margaretta asked, suddenly concerned. She didn't know much about elves. He could be sick. She glanced at Gimli, but he did not seem worried.
"It is Legolas, as we agreed, remember?" he replied, giving her his full attention. "Thank you for telling us your story," he continued, his smile soft and sad. "It could not have been easy for you."
"It wasn't," the shopkeeper agreed. "But now I think on it, I feel better. I'd never held much with talking things to death, but.." she shrugged. "I feel better now."
"Grief should not be kept inside. It eats away the soul," Legolas said seriously. He knew what he was talking about. He'd watched elves die of grief.
"Well, no souls will be eaten in my establishment. Only tarts!" Margaretta said, laughing.
"I thought 'twas Legolas's turn to be teased," Gimli protested.
"It is, but I could not resist. My apologies, Gimli," Margaretta smiled.
"Harrumph! If you are too awestruck to tease him, then I shall simply have to do so myself," the dwarf huffed. Gimli glanced around for suitable to ammunition. His eyes twinkled, and a tiny, sly smile shaped his lips as his gaze settled on the Nargothondian. Legolas followed his dwarf's gaze, and groaned. He knew what was coming.
Sure enough, Gimli said, "Master Elf! You still have not chosen that gift you so badly need. It would not do for you to return to your lady empty handed. And I am certain Margaretta needs some patronage, as you took up her whole afternoon with storytelling. Since the Nargothondian is out of the question, you, my friend, have some shopping to do."
"Gimli, please," Legolas began. Gimli was having none of that.
"Come now, Legolas! Surely it is not so difficult for an elf to choose a gift for his lady. Did you not tell me as we entered that a blade is more appropriate for her than jewelry? There are blades here aplenty. Pick one!" To Margaretta, he said, "Elves have no clue how to choose regard gifts. He will need help. Much help."
Margaretta could not help but laugh. Legolas looked trapped, and thoroughly put out. He stood, and stared down at the dwarf in what was supposed to be an intimidating manner. It only made Margaretta laugh harder.
"You just will not let this go until I chose something, will you?" Legolas sighed.
"Absolutely not!" Gimli chortled. "And even then, I shall still most likely jest at your expense."
Legolas glanced skyward in resignation. Then he smiled down at his dwarf and shook his head ruefully. He knew when he was bested. "What would you recommend, my friend?"
"That one!" Gimli immediately replied. He pointed to the sword next to the Nargothondian, the one he'd been admiring while Margaretta prepared tea. "It is perfect."
Margaretta saw where Gimli was pointing, and stopped laughing. She gave them both a long, searching look. Then she went over to the wall, took down the sword in question, and handed it silently to Legolas.
The elf stared at the shopkeeper for a moment before taking the sword. He inspected it carefully. It was obviously used. The blade showed wear, but nothing some attention would not remedy. Legolas ran a thumb over its edge, and got cut. He tested the balance, and found it exquisite. The sword was simply adorned, though a bit light for his taste. Gimli was right. It was perfect, even though it was not new.
Not new. Obviously used. Hanging right next to the Nargothondian. A suspicion formed. "Who did this belong to, Margaretta?" Legolas asked quietly.
The shopkeeper inspected the sword as though seeing it for the first time. "That one?" she asked unnecessarily. "That was Illya's."
Suspicion confirmed. "I cannot take this from you," Legolas whispered.
"You can buy it from me. It is for sale. I have better remembrances of my daughter," Margaretta retorted. The elf looked about to argue further, when the door banged open.
"Aunt 'Retta! I'm home! I got that wire you wanted! And some apples! Why's the shop closed? What's for sup...." a bellowing whirlwind burst into the shop. The whirlwind became a gangly boy, all knees and elbows. Neither elf nor dwarf was a good judge of human children's ages, but this one seemed just beginning the journey to manhood. He stopped midsentence and stared at them. "Who are you?" he demanded.
"Halorec! That is no way to talk to my guests! They are Master Gimli and Master Legolas of the Fellowship of the Ring," Margaretta chided. She turned to Gimli and Legolas. "Please forgive my nephew his insolence. He usually has better manners," she said, giving Halorec a meaningful look.
The boy was not impressed. Stories of the olden days just didn't interest him, unless someone he knew personally had been involved. Thus, he knew very little of the Fellowship. Still, he could tell he'd be in trouble if he didn't try to be polite, so he mumbled something that might have been "Sorry, pleased to meet you," before going back to staring at these strangers.
When he noticed the sword Legolas held, he bristled visibly. "Why are you messing about with my cousin's sword?" he asked belligerently.
"Halorec!" Margaretta exclaimed, ready to give her nephew the rough side of her tongue.
Gimli saw a storm brewing and gestured for Margaretta to lean in so he could speak quietly to her. "Legolas will handle the boy."
Surely enough, Halorec's attitude had not fazed the elf at all. "I intend to purchase it, as a gift for a friend," he answered mildly.
Halorec looked Legolas up and down. He had heard elves were valiant warriors, but he wanted to be sure whoever got Illya's sword deserved it. "What kind of friend?" he wanted to know.
"A lady," Legolas began before being interrupted.
"A Lady?!? I don't know that I want a needle-pointing lady to have my cousin's sword," the boy sneered.
"Mithsewwen is hardly a 'needle-pointing lady'. When first I met her, she was pointing an arrow at my Fellowship," Legolas informed Halorec, with a smile for Gimli at the memory. "She defended Lorien all three times Sauron attacked, only succumbing when she took a blow meant for another."
"When she saved the Lady Galadriel's life nearly at the expense of her own, you mean. Tell it as we were told, Master Elf," Gimli put in. He had developed a very high opinion of Legolas's lady-friend when he learned of that. It was one reason he teased his elf so much about her.
Now that impressed Halorec. Even he had heard stories of the Lady of the Golden Wood, who sailed away West a long time ago, taking the beauty of the Elves with her. Besides, he knew Sauron meant orcs, so that meant... "Your lady killed orcs?" he asked. Legolas nodded. "Lots of orcs?" Halorec pestered. The elf nodded again. "Y'know, Illya killed a hundred orcs with that before she died. If your lady killed orcs, too, then I guess you can buy it," the boy finally decided.
"I thank you," Legolas replied seriously.
Margaretta wanted to die of embarrassment. Gimli was having a hard time suppressing a laugh at her discomfort. The shopkeeper shot him a glare before turning her attention to her wayward nephew.
"Now that THAT is settled," she said with barely concealed sarcasm that went right over Halorec's head, "why don't you, young man, go upstairs and begin washing potatoes for supper?"
"But Aunt! I still want to know why the shop was closed when I came home," the lad protested.
"Your aunt was telling us the story of the Nargothondian, and her role in the Battle of Dale," Gimli spoke before Margaretta's thinning patience with the boy snapped completely. He had no wish to listen to the tongue-lashing the lad had coming.
"Did she?" Halorec asked, surprised. His aunt usually refused to talk about those days, though he never tired of hearing about them. "About time she told that story! She was brilliant! You should have seen her. She came in here and tore the sword off the wall and struck down SEVEN ORCS with one blow and..."
"HALOREC!" Margaretta interrupted. Once she had his attention, she gestured upstairs. "The potatoes? Else we will not have any dinner. Though if you move now, I may have time to bake those apples with honey and brown sugar."
Like most boys his age, Halorec thought primarily with his stomach. The threat of no dinner coupled with the promise of his favorite dessert pried him away from these fascinating guests as nothing else would have. He was upstairs almost before Margaretta finished speaking.
"He seems a lively lad," Gimli commented.
"He is. Too lively for his own good, sometimes. Raising a boy is very different from what I was used to with my daughters," Margaretta answered.
"That reminds me, you never told us what happened to your other daughter," the dwarf said.
"Ana? She married some Ranger I'd met twice and moved to Minas Tirith. She writes often, though. Last I heard, he'd turned blacksmith and they were expecting their third child," she said, smiling softly.
"It is good you know joy, as well as pain," Legolas commented. The elf was still holding Illya's sword. Margaretta looked at it and sighed.
"I would like to give you that as a gift, but I am afraid I sorely need the sale. What think you a fair price?" she said.
"No, 'tis quite proper for a shopkeeper to require payment for her goods. Besides, you already gave me a gift, in your story," the elf replied.
Margaretta smiled, flattered. Once negotiations began, however, she showed herself a shrewd businesswoman. Legolas also was no novice at haggling; being the son of a king he'd had experience. Gimli settled back to watch the fun.
Soon, a price was agreed upon, the sword scabbarded and wrapped and handed over to Legolas. Margaretta turned to Gimli. "And what about you, Master Dwarf? Do you need anything from my shop?"
Gimli made a show of thinking for a moment. He browsed around the store while Legolas smiled indulgently behind his back. Eventually, the dwarf noticed a fine display of belt knives. "I may purchase a belt knife, as I am notoriously hard on mine. But only if you remember to call me Gimli," he said.
"Gimli went through three of them in the Fellowship," Legolas put in, "and five more since. 'Tis a bit of a joke between us now."
Margaretta grinned. "Well, Gimli, these are the finest knives available, of a new design, and will stand up to the hardest use," the shopkeeper said.
"In that case, I will buy two. My father's name-day is coming up, and he is even worse on knives than I am," Gimli laughed. He selected two off the tray and the haggling began again.
All too soon, however, business was at an end, and the elf and the dwarf prepared to leave. Gimli bowed to Margaretta, took her hand and kissed it. "You are truly a lady of intelligence and strength, as well as beauty. I fully enjoyed our stay here today. Thank you for your goods, your story, and your hospitality. We will meet again, so that I may have more of those most excellent tarts."
Margaretta laughed. "You are most welcome, Gimli. I sincerely hope your father has a happy name-day, and enjoys his knife. May they serve you both well. I look forward to our next meeting."
Once Gimli relinquished the shopkeeper's hand, Legolas claimed it. He kissed it gently, a mere brush of the lips before releasing it. Margaretta shivered, and blushed from bosom to hairline. "It has been a true pleasure, Margaretta," the elf said gently. "Elen sila lumenn omentielvo."
"I'm sorry, I don't speak Elvish," Margaretta babbled. "What does that mean?"
" 'A star shines on the hour of our meeting'," the elf replied with a smile.
"That it does, Legolas, that it does," Margaretta agreed. "But I am afraid I must shoo you out now. If Halorec is not fed soon, he will become a rampaging monster, and I do not wish to deal with that. It has been a most enjoyable afternoon. Thank you for coming here."
"You are very welcome, Margaretta. Come, Gimli. Let us visit the Crown and Hammer, and see if their wine cellar is as good as it once was," the elf said.
"An excellent idea, Master Elf," Gimli replied. "Farewell, good Margaretta."
"Farewell, Gimli. Farewell, Legolas. I hope your lady appreciates your gift," Margaretta said.
"I am certain she will," Legolas replied. "Fare thee well, Margaretta of the Blade."
With that, the elf and the dwarf left Burleigh and Stronginthearm's. Margaretta went upstairs to cook supper, humming happily. The day had turned out much better than she ever expected. She returned to her life with a lightened heart, thinking herself blessed to have met and entertained such remarkable people.