GUESS WHO'S COMING FOR DINNER?



Thranduil was coming for dinner and bringing a 'friend'. Fortunately this only happened once every four or five hundred years, because the domestic fallout was on the scale of a small war, complete with the need for outside peacekeeping forces -usually Gandalf - and reparations.

Preparations began early the week before the planned visit. Legolas started cooking obsessively. Gimli built a new wall or two in the garden – it would give him something to destroy should the evening become too stressful. Conversation dwindled into the kind of wary silence that absolutely repels any attempt at drawing confidences.

And yet, it was Gimli who had encouraged Legolas to make his peace with Thranduil. Having no family left made you appreciate just how important they were – despite all the complications and issues involved. All the same, he'd rather amputate his foot with his own axe than spend a whole evening in company with Legolas' sire. The things we do for love.

It was one of those issues of trust where things just were. No go areas like, "What did happen to your mother?" or "What exactly is your real name?" - they proved their commitment by just accepting and not asking.

Trust. Commitment. Gimli reminded himself of the importance of both as Thranduil entered the house with 'friend' number 57 in tow. Both wore long gowns in shades of purple decorated with jewels. Gimli bowed courteously. Thranduil grunted something that sounded like "Grumpy" or perhaps it was "Greetings". His lady smiled but didn't speak. Thranduil kicked a cat that had come to investigate his robes. The others got the message and ran into hiding. Legolas poured them all a glass of wine.

Three hours later, Gimli was wondering if he had built enough walls in the garden. Legolas' culinary efforts had resulted in a 10-course feast and they were still only half way through.

"Ah, Grimli," said Thranduil.

Gimli forced a smile. Legolas poured more wine. Friend ate.

Thranduil talked about prisons and the trouble he'd had back in Mirkwood with prisoners escaping and the general undesirability of tradesmen and travelling folk.

"Don't you agree, Gamely?"

Gimli glowered. Legolas drank more wine - at this rate there would be more hangover than legover. He considered the places in the garden left to build a wall. A good high wall, suitable for pushing elven kings off would be nice…

The king's companion sat silently and daintily worked her way through the enormous quantities of food. As always, Gimli wondered how Thranduil was able to attract such beautiful ladies. It helped if you were beautiful yourself, he supposed, but old Thrandy was as rotten and hollow inside as one of those trees the Ents used to talk about.

"And then Snow White said --"

Gimli didn't wait to hear what Snow White said. He went into the kitchen to help Legolas. The film version of Snow White some years ago had been an occasion of deep personal crisis – worse than watching what had been done to him in that film. At least they had got Legolas right. What was it with men and dwarves? There would be lot of building and demolishing needed to excise this night. Legolas caught his eye and poured them both some wine. "I could help you mix cement," he offered.

Relatives. Gloin's visits had not exactly been a walk in a shady forest for Legolas. He still winced at the hairless jokes the elf had had to endure. Legolas had been pretty decent about that. He could do no less. "It's going well," he lied.

"So Dimli--" began Thranduil as they returned bearing yet more food. He noticed Legolas give a particularly vicious swipe to the crystal doorstop as he passed and made a mental note to check it later.

So the evening progressed through all ten courses. Would it never end? Enough! Gimli belched loudly and deliberately. "Time for songs and dwarvish stories, my friends," he said with bluff good humour. "I intend to start with the story of the naming of the rocks and elements. There are a hundred and twenty verses but it shouldn't take more than an hour or two. Then we'll go on to something longer and more serious."

Friend giggled. Legolas drank more wine. Thranduil winced and put down his fork. "Alas, it grows late. We have tarried long over eating and it is now time for us to take our leave."

No one bothered to protest. Cloaks were gathered, bows hoisted on to shoulders, and several large baskets of leftovers solicitously wrapped up and handed over.

"See you around, Glumly," said Thranduil.

Perhaps they could move and not leave a forwarding address. Friend drifted towards the door in a cloud of purple gauze, her gold and amethyst evening arrow with matching quiver sack almost hidden in the billowing folds of material. In her hand she held a piece of cake. As she passed Gimli she gave an unmistakable wink. "Bye Glorgious."

Behind him, Gimli felt Legolas come up behind and place his hands on his shoulders in an unmistakable gesture of possession. He leaned back against the elf. To his fore, Thranduil gave Legolas a single searching glance, before turning away. Another opportunity lost.

"Farewell," Gimli said firmly and shut the door, turning the key in the lock. The 20 cats sighed and began to emerge from their hiding places. Legolas loosed his hold and strode quickly away without speaking. Gimli waited until he had left the room before giving the crystal doorstop a quick once over and a polish. A chorus of meows told him that Legolas had begun feeding the remains of the food to the cats. It could have been worse.

He went into the kitchen to help clear up.