CHAPTER SEVEN - LEGOLAS

I was in trouble. I was in more trouble now than I could ever have imagined. I had hit Lord Glorfindel, I had bitten Arwen. I yelled at Lord Elrond, and I used the words Gerdan had told me never, ever to say if I wasn't with the soldiers. This was really awful.

I was so scared when Arwen pulled me out of the tree. I thought it was Galion again. Really, I had thought it was him and I just wanted to get away. I've bitten him before. I made him bleed sometimes, and I'm not sorry either. I'm not sorry I bit the Elf Lady...but I shouldn't have bitten her. The Big Elves like Arwen, and now everyone is angry with me, and they'll tell Mithrandir what a ...what did Arwen call me? Horrid. They'll tell him I'm a horrid little Elf, and then he'll know and he'll send me home again, and then it WILL be Galion pulling me out of the tree again.

I hadn't felt this bad since I met Mithrandir, maybe ever. Leaning against the trunk of the tree, I pressed my face against the rough, wet bark. It wasn't Mith's beard, but it was as close as I could come. At least the tree still liked me. The tears started falling then, and I couldn't help crying. Galion was right. I was all of those things he said, and Arwen said, and Father said....

"Little Elf, are you awake?" It was Glorfindel.

My heart dropped down into my stomach and that began to roll over. Scared. Scaredscaredscared --I had bit him too! They sent him to fetch me in, I decided. They've figured out what to do with me, and he's come to bring me in so they can tell me and send me away.

"Could I come up?" He didn't sound mad.

I was startled and leaned over to peer down at him through the leaves. I suppose I wasn't as high as I thought, because he wasn't very far below me. He saw me then, and he smiled. And then he grabbed a branch and pulled himself up. Within just a moment he was seated beside me in the tree. Maybe I should get down? He could grab me and--

Glorfindel smiled sadly, then reached over to brush his fingers across my cheeks. I was too scared and worried to move, but his touch was kind and gentle, almost like Mith's.

"I thought you might be upset," he said softly. "I don't want you to worry about anything. You're not in trouble. No one is upset with you."

That was the silliest thing I'd ever heard from a grown Elf. How could they not be angry with me after all the awful things I'd just done? I bet I could just jump straight down and land well enough--

"We understand, Legolas. You were scared, and you were angry, and you answered in the only way you knew how."

He sounded like he meant that, and I could only stare at him. He smiled again, and it was kind of sad and kind of friendly all at once.

"You have a temper," Glorfindel continued. "You get angry. We all do, at some time or another. But we don't have to act the way you did tonight. We can control it and use it in other ways."

I guess he meant 'don't do that again,' but I wasn't sure.

"I can teach you how to act more appropriately when you are angry, if you'd like. I can show you what to do instead."

I considered this, then turned away. "Have to go now," I mumbled.

"We will talk again later, then."

I shook my head because he didn't understand. "No later. I have to go away."

"You want to leave Imladris?" He sounded surprised, but his eyes looked sad when I dared to glance over at him.

"No, but I have to. I...I bit Arwen and hit her and said bad things and yelled at Lord Elrond."

"That's all true, but that will all work out well enough. You'll see."

"They won't want me to stay." I didn't mean to sound as sad as I did, but it was hard to say that, and even harder to think of it.

He reached out then and touched my hair, stroking it like he did the horses' manes. "You are not going to leave Imladris, little one, and you are most certainly not going back to Mirkwood, if that is where your guilty thoughts are leading you. You live here, and here you will stay. And starting tomorrow, I'm going to teach you things."

He smiled and patted my shoulder and hopped out of the tree. Just kind of stood up and slid to the ground. I'd have to climb higher next time.

"Come in soon so you'll be dry in time for dinner." Waving, he walked back toward the house. I could see Lord Elrond at the balcony watching us, and he didn't look too angry any more, either, just interested.

Maybe it would be forgiven after all?

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I slipped into the darkened stable with a sigh of relief. No one was here. No one saw me. I'd managed to leave those Big Elves behind. It had been an awful evening, and I was grateful to have reached safety finally. Stables were always welcoming.

I stepped carefully along the deepest shadows of the wall and listened to the familiar sounds as those in the stalls shifted in their deep straw beds and chewed contentedly at the sweet hay. The sounds were comforting in their familiarity, but I needed more right now. Where was Annun? I needed Annun. Now.

Stepping into the aisle, I was looking through the gloom, toward where I thought she was, when someone touched my head, pushing at me. I nearly screamed and would have, had my breath not been choked off by the leap my heart took. I spun away from capture, only to find a white horse head shining faintly in the shadows, ears forward and dark eyes kind.

A horse. I'd been frightened by a horse. I was disgusted by my scared-baby actions, but.... But I *was* scared. And I needed my friend, my only friend since Mith left, and I needed her now. The tears were getting closer every moment.

Abandoning all stealth, I ran down the deserted stable aisle, knowing well it was a breach of the rules and not caring one whit. A soft nicker greeted me, welcomed me. My trembling hands fumbled at the latch I'd assured Lord Elrond I could work easily, but it finally yielded to my fingers as Annun breathed encouragement down my collar. Pulling the stall door open, I lunged for her, leaning against her chest as I wrapped my arms about the base of her neck as far as they would reach, drinking in the warmth and comfort she offered. She breathed softly, not a snort, but something softer and more welcoming, and lowered her head over mine to enfold me with neck and head, her chin pressed against my hip.

"Oh, Annun, it's all gone wrong. Mith's gone away without us."

The tears won free finally, and I cried quietly against her chest as she breathed her sweet hay breath over me. Annun had always been part of my life, had always welcomed me, had never hurt me, never left me. Annun was... Annun was security and love and all things good. Even here, she was all of those things.

Tears spent, my heart finally slowed and I heaved a sigh that seemed the signal the old mare was waiting for. Raising her head, she poked me in the ear with her nose, then moved back to the tempting pile of hay in the corner. It was a generous amount, and I nodded in approval. At least they cared for the horses here, even if little Elves without wizards weren't welcome. I settled in the hay while Annun ate, relaxing in the reassuring familiarity of this haven. She ate steadily, sparing me an occasional touch or glance while I occasionally stroked her foreleg.

Finally, though, I stood up. Fright had been overcome, and curiosity was swiftly moving in its wake. I had planned to explore this place once I was alone, and this was the perfect opportunity. There were hiding places to find, corners to examine, horses to meet; I decided that it was going to be an exciti+ng evening. Hiding places came first, though, for surely someone would come to check the horses during the night, especially the big-bellied mares like Annun. Best I be prepared.

I gave her neck a pat, and she acknowledged my leaving with one ear canted toward me as I shuffled through the rustling straw. I guessed that if I wasn't crying or scared, the hay was more important. That was all right, I had more important things to do too.

I carefully closed the latch behind me this time, then turned to my first solo adventure in Rivendell. The first corner by Annun's stall had hay piled in it. Could I fit behind it?

It took some wiggling, and I had to pull it out from the wall just a little bit, but I could fit back there, and I didn't think anyone would notice me. This was good.

My spirits rising, I headed down the aisle, patting this nose and looking in that doorway. This was a huge stable, much bigger than Mirkwood's. Much better, too, with many possibilities. Before long I'd found at least seven good places to hide, several of which would probably work well even in daylight. I found what I guessed was a storeroom, as it held lots of work tools, grooming tools, carts for mucking out the big stalls, *huge* pitchforks and lots of other things. Curiosity dragged me to one corner, where carefully hung up on a rack was tack. A bridle, and a saddle. It was smaller than Mith's, with pretty things carved into the leather.

The pretty things were stupid, I decided. Who would want to ride in that? It was clean, though, the leather supple and it smelled wonderful. Somebody kept it in good shape, though I couldn't figure out why it was here.

The loft stairs were another exciting discovery. Hesitating, I peering into the darkness for any sign someone might be watching before I stepped onto the lowest stair. Stairs could cry out and creak and moan and tell all the big Elves for just miles around that I was climbing somewhere I ought not. I didn't trust stairs. But once I put my full weight on it, the step proved as sound as everything else in Rivendell. I jumped off of it and then back on, just to be sure, but nothing happened at all, except the horse in the stall across the aisle looked startled and started staring at me. I guess Big Elves don't do such things. I laughed at his surprise before hopping to the next step, and then hopped from one side to the other. Stair number two was friendly as well. On to number three!

It took quite a while, but I finally made it to the loft, confident that only the fourth step would squeak and give me away, and only on the right side. I'd accomplished a lot tonight, and I felt really pleased about it. Clambering up into the loft proper, I looked around at the lumps and piles in the shadows up here. I had to be careful because sometimes there were holes. I remembered the awful day when I stepped on a feeding hole that was intended for dropping hay down right inside the stall. I got dropped down inside instead, right in front of the horse in there. He was really scared, and so was I. Worse, it happened when Big Elves were in the stable aisle. I was really lucky then because Gerdan moved over really quickly to quiet the horse and saw me first. He stood in front of the door, so nobody could see me before I could hide in the corner. I wouldn't make that mistake again; it was scary. And it hurt, too, falling all the way down.

Rivendell didn't seem to want to drop hay on their horses' heads, as there were no holes in the floor. At least none as I could find. What they did have was lots of hay, bundled together with twine and stacked loosely with lots of hiding places in between. It was good hay, too; soft and sweet. Good for sleeping in. And I could see through the floor, too. Lots of wide- set boards formed the floor, and I could peer down into almost all the stalls from up here. It was wonderful. I also discovered the floor rested on the rafters. They were wide, heavy timbers, just right for me to walk across, so I could move from one side of the aisle to the other up here. I could also watch absolutely everything.

I scooted across the wide beam as easily as a branch in my old friend Oak, pausing in the middle to look down at the stable below. I could see everything from this spot -- both sides of the stable, all the way down the aisle to each end, all four doors and both stairs. I sat down, swinging my legs in the open air and grinned at this unexpected fortune.

Yes, I'd always felt safe in stables, and I knew this one would be the best spot in all of Middle-earth. I knocked a bit of dust down as I thumped my legs against my perch, which inspired an irritated snort and a bang from the far end stall. I peered harder through the gloom, only to realize....

Yes...yes it was! Naur was in that box. Oh, this was my chance to talk to him, to make friends with him without some Big Elf pulling me away and telling me something stupid about how scary he was. Horses weren't scary. All horses liked me. All horses were happy to see me. Naur just didn't know me yet. Now was my chance to fix that.

Scrambling to my feet, I headed back across to the loft floor and down the stairs as fast as I dared move. I broke the 'no running' rule again as I pelted back to the big workroom. I'd found some big boxes in the corner early, and now lifted the heavy lid of one. It wasn't easy, and I had to hold it open by letting it rest on the top of my head, but inside were oats. Sweet, clean oats. I reached down to grab handfuls of the grain, but to my disgust the level was so low that all I could do was wave my fingers helplessly several inches above them.

Wriggling out from under the heavy lid, I stood and thought about it. How could I reach the grain? I just had to have some, for Naur. I kicked at the box in annoyance, but the hollow thunk only made me crosser. I kicked the other one as well for good measure, and that box made hardly any noise at all. Did that mean it was fuller than the other box?

I got that one open and found it as stuffed as my father's treasure room. With the lid carefully balanced on top of my head, I pulled my tunic out to make a pouch and filled it with handfuls of cool, slippery oats. Only when the cloth bulged and threatened to spill did I stop. I did remember to smooth the oats in the box mostly flat, so nobody would notice what I'd stolen. Backing out from under the lid, I let it bang as it fell and headed back into the aisle.

My presence in the feed room had not escaped notice. I stopped dead to realize that every horse was staring at me. Every single one. I sighed, as I had wanted to head for Naur right away. Now, I couldn't do that.

"A bite. Just a bite," I warned them, flinching at the sound of my voice in this great and silent place. Zigzaggin my way back to Naur's end of the stable, I held up handfuls of oats to each horse along the way. Some were nice and just nibbled the grain off off my palm. Some snorted at my hand as though it was something wrong and strange. Too bad. No oats for them, for I was in a hurry.

One big bay seemed to have learned that those who paused to question such treats lost them. He grabbed my whole hand in his mouth and scraped the oats off of my fingers with his lips as I yanked back my fingers. I thought he was going to bite my hand right off, but when I looked up at him he was laughing at me. I wiped the horse spit off on my leggings and laughed back. He was funny, and I liked him. I thought he liked me, too. Maybe he just liked oats. I'd find out tomorrow, I promised myself, when I did this again. I'd do this every night, I decided instantly. This was great fun.

Annun accepted her bite with crabby indifference, as though it was too much effort for her to walk all the way to the stall door. She was often grumpy when her belly was fat, so I didn't think she meant it.

Finally, I reached Naur. He stood still in his stall, shining in the gloom, haughty and proud, staring over my head and down the aisle as though he didn't even see me. I'd saved him two handfuls of oats cradled carefully in my tunic, my arm holding the bribe tight against my chest.

"Naur?" I whispered softly. "Naur, I have a treat for you."

He deigned to glance down at me, then flicked his ears back in irritation.

"Look, Naur, I have oats."

I held up one precious handful toward the nose that remained raised over my head. I blinked, surprised. No horse ever ignored me, and no horse EVER ignored oats. He finally looked down at me -- really looked at me and my oats -- and banged his nose hard against my hand, scattering my offering. Then he turned away as though I wasn't there and circled back into the darkness of his stall.

Hurt, I looked down at the few oats still cradled in my tunic. Perhaps he just didn't see me. Maybe if I went inside the stall where I could actually talk to him and touch him, he wouldn't act this way.

Decision made, I clamped my arm over the fold in my tunic, grabbed the latch on the stall with my other hand, and stepped on the cross-brace of his stall door. Climbing in was the best way because I wasn't about to open the door and chance his getting out.

It wasn't hard to climb, only three steps on the cross-braces. I had just reached the top of the tall door and was swinging my leg over the board when I saw him coming toward me -- No, he was lungeing toward me, all angry eyes and lots of teeth.