Chapter Three
"They are arriving in approximately one hour, Madeline." "I will have their rooms ready." "Thank you. And kindly remind the kitchen staff, will you?" "Yes, sir." Madeline hurried out of the room, almost colliding with Legolas on her way through the door. "Watch where you're going, Madeline!" bellowed Legolas. He was in a foul mood, and he was taking his anger out on anybody available. "Yes sir, I-I'm awful sorry sir, I-I...," stuttered the maid. "Legolas is the one who should be apologising." Interrupted Thranduil, with a dangerous glint in his eye, directed at his son. Legolas apologised and Madeline left, leaving the elf to avoid his father's eyes in shame. "I can't help it," Legolas finally spoke. "This is unfair. Why should we suffer for another city's problems?"
The war. A neighbouring city, Cvolloch, blamed Greenwood for their problems, saying that three thousand years ago they had stolen half their land, and that now they were going to claim it back. Thranduil denied this, saying that the land had been theirs for many millenniums.
The elder elf tried to comfort Legolas. "We are only responsible for our own actions, Legolas. Not other people's. This will blow over soon enough. We have more warriors than them; we have better resources. We will win this, son. It will take time, but we will win this." Legolas had a sneaking suspicion that he was trying to convince himself as well as his son, but he nodded and left the room.
The trio arrived an hour and a half later. Legolas, Arwen, Aragorn and Thranduil warmly greeted them at the side entrance of the palace. "It is wonderful to see you all again," said Frodo.
That night there was a feast, though not as much a celebration as a gathering. They ate and drank the finest foods and wines. They told stories, swapped the latest news and reminisced of the many days they spent together in search of Mordor. Finally they got on to the topic of why they were all there. "Has there been any progress or news on the war front?" asked Gandalf, his stomach full. "No, none. We have been informed by a source that they are planning to attack the West tomorrow at sunrise. I have, of course, taken extra precautions around that area," explained Thranduil. Frodo noticed that Legolas looked very sad, as if the weight of middle-earth was resting on his shoulders. "Legolas, are you alright?" Apparently Sam had noticed it too. "Yes thank you Sam, I worry about my home." "You must not worry worry, until worry worries you!" interjected Gandalf, with a twinkle in his eye. Arwen and Aragorn, who had been talking quietly to each other for a while, and they looked up and nodded at Gandalf's remark. "That is all too true," said Thranduil. After another two hours of talking, they all retired to bed, apart from Thranduil and Gandalf. Frodo overheard them talking when he came down to ask for some water. "How serious is it really, Thranduil?" Frodo heard Gandalf's familiar voice ask. "Very. When I said we'd heard from a source that they were going to attack the West...The truth is that we've been receiving threatening letters from them. There's nothing we can do, of course, until they actually attack us." "Do you think that it is wise to keep this from Legolas?" "No, I do not, but after all that he's-"
"Frodo?" called Sam. Frodo raced upstairs. "Sam. Sam, I'm just here." Frodo found Sam standing just outside his room. "Oh, there you are. Where have you been?" The candle that Sam was holding, in a silver holder decorated with ivy leaves lighted the corridor. "I-I've been downstairs getting a glass of water." Sam looked down at Frodo's empty hands. So did Frodo himself. "Strange lookin' water, Mr. Frodo." "Er-well, I mean, I did get the water...and then I, um..." "Yes?" "And then I drank it Sam. Just now." Frodo was using a slightly irritated voice, only out of nervousness of being found out. "And where's the-" "Yes, Sam?" "Where's the glass, Mr. Frodo. The glass?" "I-I..." Frodo knew that he would have to tell Sam the truth. He also knew that his friend would not take the news well, and that he would be very worried. "Oh dear," said Sam after Frodo had finished. He had been right. Sam had gone several shades paler, and was fiddling with the soft material of his pyjamas.
"They are arriving in approximately one hour, Madeline." "I will have their rooms ready." "Thank you. And kindly remind the kitchen staff, will you?" "Yes, sir." Madeline hurried out of the room, almost colliding with Legolas on her way through the door. "Watch where you're going, Madeline!" bellowed Legolas. He was in a foul mood, and he was taking his anger out on anybody available. "Yes sir, I-I'm awful sorry sir, I-I...," stuttered the maid. "Legolas is the one who should be apologising." Interrupted Thranduil, with a dangerous glint in his eye, directed at his son. Legolas apologised and Madeline left, leaving the elf to avoid his father's eyes in shame. "I can't help it," Legolas finally spoke. "This is unfair. Why should we suffer for another city's problems?"
The war. A neighbouring city, Cvolloch, blamed Greenwood for their problems, saying that three thousand years ago they had stolen half their land, and that now they were going to claim it back. Thranduil denied this, saying that the land had been theirs for many millenniums.
The elder elf tried to comfort Legolas. "We are only responsible for our own actions, Legolas. Not other people's. This will blow over soon enough. We have more warriors than them; we have better resources. We will win this, son. It will take time, but we will win this." Legolas had a sneaking suspicion that he was trying to convince himself as well as his son, but he nodded and left the room.
The trio arrived an hour and a half later. Legolas, Arwen, Aragorn and Thranduil warmly greeted them at the side entrance of the palace. "It is wonderful to see you all again," said Frodo.
That night there was a feast, though not as much a celebration as a gathering. They ate and drank the finest foods and wines. They told stories, swapped the latest news and reminisced of the many days they spent together in search of Mordor. Finally they got on to the topic of why they were all there. "Has there been any progress or news on the war front?" asked Gandalf, his stomach full. "No, none. We have been informed by a source that they are planning to attack the West tomorrow at sunrise. I have, of course, taken extra precautions around that area," explained Thranduil. Frodo noticed that Legolas looked very sad, as if the weight of middle-earth was resting on his shoulders. "Legolas, are you alright?" Apparently Sam had noticed it too. "Yes thank you Sam, I worry about my home." "You must not worry worry, until worry worries you!" interjected Gandalf, with a twinkle in his eye. Arwen and Aragorn, who had been talking quietly to each other for a while, and they looked up and nodded at Gandalf's remark. "That is all too true," said Thranduil. After another two hours of talking, they all retired to bed, apart from Thranduil and Gandalf. Frodo overheard them talking when he came down to ask for some water. "How serious is it really, Thranduil?" Frodo heard Gandalf's familiar voice ask. "Very. When I said we'd heard from a source that they were going to attack the West...The truth is that we've been receiving threatening letters from them. There's nothing we can do, of course, until they actually attack us." "Do you think that it is wise to keep this from Legolas?" "No, I do not, but after all that he's-"
"Frodo?" called Sam. Frodo raced upstairs. "Sam. Sam, I'm just here." Frodo found Sam standing just outside his room. "Oh, there you are. Where have you been?" The candle that Sam was holding, in a silver holder decorated with ivy leaves lighted the corridor. "I-I've been downstairs getting a glass of water." Sam looked down at Frodo's empty hands. So did Frodo himself. "Strange lookin' water, Mr. Frodo." "Er-well, I mean, I did get the water...and then I, um..." "Yes?" "And then I drank it Sam. Just now." Frodo was using a slightly irritated voice, only out of nervousness of being found out. "And where's the-" "Yes, Sam?" "Where's the glass, Mr. Frodo. The glass?" "I-I..." Frodo knew that he would have to tell Sam the truth. He also knew that his friend would not take the news well, and that he would be very worried. "Oh dear," said Sam after Frodo had finished. He had been right. Sam had gone several shades paler, and was fiddling with the soft material of his pyjamas.