A/N: And here is chapter 12!
Besides, I don't think I said it before, but Faelernil and Mîrdolen names are all mine. I really racked my brain to find them (because yes, their names actually mean something). Their personnalities are aaaall mine as well. I don't want to sound possessive, but I really worked on them so if you'd like to use them in a story, please ask.
Also, does any of you know how to get rid of a rather nasty plot bunny? Because one has been chewing on my leg ever since I wrote a particular part of this chapter and wouldn't let go.
BTW, I'd love to see if any of you can spot that plot bunny... That could be interesting...
Now a few answers to reviews:
dragonfly32: I'm glad you liked the way I wrote Thranduil, I hate it too when he's portrayed as evil. But Faelernil is not nasty. He's just, er... older and wiser? Well, older that's for sure, but wiser... *g* Anyway you'll hear more about Legolas' brothers in this chapter.
SpaceVixenX: Well I'm glad you enjoy this story! But I'm far from being done with it and still have plenty of things to write about! ;-)
I would also like to thank Candice again, because I really can't thank her enough.
Chapter Twelve
Some Stories are Better Left Untold
Cindra smiled broadly as her former travelling companions entered Mirkwood's House of Healing. She propped herself up on her elbows to greet them.
"It is a pleasure to see you well," Aragorn spoke up. "Have you fully recovered yet?"
"I believe I have, thanks to those healers," Cindra replied. "Actually I have not felt so well in a long time."
"I am delighted to hear that," Aragorn answered.
"It is my Lord's wish to hold a celebration soon," Legolas told her. "Dínendal, the Head Healer, informed us that you would be able to leave the House of Healing no sooner than later today. Hence my Lord decided the celebration would be held tomorrow night. You are of course invited to this event."
Cindra nodded. "It will be a pleasure. I also cannot wait to visit this place."
An Elf maid walked closer. "I beg your pardon gentlemen," she said, "but this lady still needs some rest. I will have to ask you to shorten your visit."
All complied immediately and left the House of Healing. However Niyan briefly insisted that the Elf maid allowed him to stay at Cindra's bedside but was promptly shut out by said Elf maid.
* * * * *
That little game Mîrdolen was playing was indeed very entertaining, Gimli thought. A bit cruel for the other two interlocutors, but certainly entertaining. The celebration had been going on for several hours already and he found he enjoyed the Elf's company almost as much as Legolas'. He had not spoken much among his conversation group, composed of Mîrdolen, Niyan, Cindra and himself, but the Elf was creating enough trouble on his own.
The Dwarf watched, concealing his amusement the best he could, while Niyan clumsily complimented Cindra. The young woman stared at the warrior for what seemed like the umpteenth time that evening - her unease in the dress Elf maidens had given her was obvious - and before she could reply anything Mîrdolen interrupted her and changed the subject. Again. And obviously intentionally.
"So, how far exactly is Norea from Middle-earth's shores?" Mîrdolen enquired innocently.
Gimli smiled as Cindra alternately looked at the Man and the Elf, probably trying to figure who to answer first. She seemed to choose Mîrdolen for she answered:
"I could not tell exactly in terms of distance since that trip is seldom taken, but it is quite close to Aman if that information can be of any help to you."
"Do you still suffer from your wound?" Niyan wondered worriedly.
"No, no I - "
"And how long is a journey here?" Mîrdolen interrupted again.
"It, er… Quite long, several weeks…" Cindra stuttered.
Before Niyan had a chance to say anything else, Mîrdolen asked, "That is fantastic. But how do you - "
Gimli did not listen to the new question - he had had enough of them. He gave a quick look around and soon spotted Legolas at the other side of the Dining Hall, talking to some Elves the Dwarf did not know and wearing an unnatural smile. Not far away were Thranduil and Aragorn, along with Faelernil and his spouse. If Aragorn's frown was any indication, they were in the middle of a very serious discussion.
His attention switched back to Legolas as some noble Elves took their leave of his friend. Somehow the archer seemed kind of relieved.
There was a lull in conversation so Gimli took the opportunity to speak. "If you will excuse me, there is someone I need to talk to."
The others nodded as he left and walked towards Legolas.
"Hail, Legolas."
"Suilad, Gimli. What brings you to this side of the room?"
"To be honest, I was wondering why you looked less than happy while this celebration is held in your honour. You used to be more cheerful at other festivities."
"Mind you, I *am* happy," Legolas retorted.
"But…?" Gimli guessed.
"But this celebration is different," the Elf stated.
Gimli understood what he meant right before he thought of asking how different it could be. They were in Mirkwood now, among his peers. He was no longer just Legolas. He was Prince Legolas, King Thranduil's son, standing stiffer than he used to, wearing a green and silver tunic embroidered with the Royal family's arms.
And as far as Gimli could tell, Legolas was not comfortable with being Prince Legolas. No wonder he usually never brought his title up.
"I understand," the Dwarf eventually said, "but you need not - "
"Legolas," Faelernil called as he walked along, only casting a quick disdainful look at Gimli before acting as if the Dwarf did not even exist.
Gimli coughed lightly to remind him of his presence but was politely ignored by the older Elf.
"Faelernil…" Legolas greeted back, hiding rather efficiently his lack of enthusiasm.
"I am afraid I did not have the time to talk to you until now, but I wanted to tell you I am glad to see you back, little one."
Legolas' slight flinch at the nickname was not lost on Gimli. Interesting, he thought. He might have to remember that one - one could never tell when knowing how to annoy an Elf could prove useful… The Dwarf repressed a mischievous smile. Instead he coughed again - he hated being ignored.
"I am glad to see you too, Faelernil," Legolas replied almost convincingly.
"A lot has happened here these last years but I am sure our Lord will soon tell you all about it," assured Faelernil.
"I have no doubt he will," came the reply.
Gimli decided it was high time to cough again, a bit louder this time. A gleam of annoyance briefly shone in Faelernil's eyes but the Elf kept looking at his younger brother.
"I will leave you for now, for you might want to check on your… friend's health," Faelernil finally said, hesitating on the word 'friend' and still pointedly ignoring Gimli, before turning round and leaving them.
Gimli snorted. "Do you reckon he realised he was interrupting a conversation? And I care not if he can still hear me."
Legolas smiled. "I am sure he did. But he probably considered a discussion with a Dwarf had to be unimportant."
"Of course," Gimli agreed. "Dwarves are always talking about gems, caves or gold-mining, are we not?"
Legolas slightly tilted his head as if pondering that statement. "Aye, I believe that is an accurate summary."
Gimli decided not to cast Legolas a dark look - some Elves around might take it at face value. "It is a wonder to see brothers behave so differently. You and Mîrdolen are much more light-hearted than your oldest brother."
"Faelernil is the Heir," Legolas explained. "He has always had more responsibilities and duties and was brought up accordingly. On the other hand, our Lord was... more lax with my and Mîrdolen's education."
"I always thought Thranduil and 'lax' did not mix well," Gimli teased.
"You would be surprised…" Legolas retorted with a mysterious smile. His eyes lay on the cup the Dwarf was holding. "Enjoying the wine so far?"
"Certainly, though I have tasted much better before."
Legolas did not pick the judgement out. "How do my folk behave around you?" he queried cautiously.
Gimli shrugged. "I was only stared at by a couple of Elves."
"And what did you do then? Nothing too rude I hope?" Legolas asked, knowing his friend had certainly done something in return.
"I just stared back until they stopped staring," the Dwarf answered innocently. "I have to admit though that I am surprised I got no more than cold looks from your kin. I suspect it had to do with Thranduil's speech at the beginning of the celebration stating that everyone there was his guest."
"My Lord might be uncomfortable with your presence but accepts you as my friend," Legolas replied. "I bet Faelernil does not approve but he or any other Elf will not object as long as our Lord allows your being there. As for Mîrdolen, I believe he does not really mind."
"Talking of Mîrdolen, you should come over and join our discussion group," Gimli offered. "It should get most entertaining in a minute."
"How so?" Legolas enquired.
"Well, Niyan is, I believe, making attempts at wooing Cindra and should get politely rejected very soon - I am afraid the poor lad ignores an important piece of information concerning the real nature of Cindra's and Ederis' relationship and that her grief is still too fresh. Hence I presume Cindra will soon have to state things more clearly since till now she has not been very successful at subtly having Niyan understand. Meanwhile, Mîrdolen is joyfully spoiling the poor man's tries by keeping interrupting him."
"Sounds fun. You are right I should come along. I do not feel like enduring another session of greetings from Elves I barely know."
Legolas followed Gimli back to where Mîrdolen, Niyan and Cindra were still talking. Mîrdolen turned to his younger brother as Legolas stood next to him.
"I see you finally decided to join us," the older Elf stated with a warm smile.
"I was too eager to know why on Middle-earth you were patrolling the south borders yourself," Legolas replied mischievously.
"Well, you know how much our Lord likes not to be wearied," his brother said.
"I also know how much you like to weary people, especially our Lord…" Legolas remarked.
"Then I believe I need not to tell any details," Mîrdolen assumed.
"On the contrary, I would love to hear about that," Legolas objected.
"I would not want to waste your precious time with such trivialities," Mîrdolen retorted.
"What I do of my 'precious' time is my concern," the younger Elf replied, "so will you please tell me what you did exactly?"
Gimli smiled. Now he understood better why Legolas was so good at their verbal jousts - he had had centuries to train with his older brother.
Assuming the two Elves might go on for ages, Cindra interrupted, "please excuse me my Lords, but my recovery from my wound left me a bit spent. Hence if you do not mind I will now take my leave of you and return to my rooms to rest."
"Shall I walk you back to your rooms?" Niyan volunteered.
The young woman hesitated, wondering how to put it. "Thank you for the offer but that will not be necessary."
"Said you not earlier that you almost got lost while wandering through the corridors?" Mîrdolen noted. "It would be wiser if someone accompanied you back to your rooms."
Cindra gave the Elf her darkest look while he gave her his most disarming smile.
"I guess you might be right," she replied reluctantly before leaving with no further word, Niyan in tow.
"So, about those patrols…" Legolas insisted.
"If you really wish to know, we needed someone of trust and high skills there."
"Oh. Who was sent then?" the archer teased.
"As you might guess, certainly not our dear brother," Mîrdolen answered.
The two brothers burst out laughing. Both Elves were rather entertaining separately, but together they put on quite a show, Gimli mused. The Dwarf briefly wondered if it was how he and Legolas appeared during one of their 'arguments'.
The pair went on for a little while, Mîrdolen never revealing the truth behind his assignment and Legolas never giving up, until they were joined by Aragorn.
"Gentlemen," the former Ranger greeted with a nod.
"King Elessar, it is a pleasure to see you join us," Mîrdolen welcomed. "Where have you been tonight?"
"I have been talking with King Thranduil. It seems he has received many reports of an abnormal Orc activity at the west of Mirkwood."
"At the west?" Legolas wondered. "There is nothing to seek at the west."
"That is what puzzles us most," confirmed Mîrdolen. "It looks like they are gathering."
"Gathering?" Legolas shook his head. "That cannot be good."
"I see the years have not impaired your smart little self…" Mîrdolen teased. "However, now is not the time to worry about those Orcs."
"Especially since you were sent to the south while the real troubles lay in the west," Legolas teased back.
"Our Lord is getting old, his assignment decisions no longer make much sense," his brother retorted.
Aragorn cast a questioning look at Gimli but the Dwarf only smiled at him and shrugged, obviously amused by the situation.
"I bet it is Faelernil who was sent to patrol the western borders," Legolas went on.
"Well, he has always loved to draw attention to himself, has he not?" Mîrdolen answered.
"Actually as far as I can remember it was more likely you," Legolas corrected. "You have a thing with getting into trouble with our Lord."
"What could possibly allow you to suggest that?" the older Elf said with a fake indignant tone.
"Do you really wish me to relate those stories while so many guests could hear?" Legolas asked, indicating the assembly of Elves all over the Dining Hall with a tilt of his head.
"First, I would rather tell them myself than have you do it since you would probably turn them at your advantage," Mîrdolen stated while his younger brother cocked an eyebrow. "Second, you are right about people around being able to overhear. Mayhap we could take this conversation to a more private place. May I offer you all to join me in my rooms?" he asked to the Man, Dwarf and Elf. "I keep some wine there, there should be enough to last all night. That is, if those gentlemen can stand Mirkwood's finest wine…" Mîrdolen finished, mischievously looking alternately at Aragorn and Gimli, while Legolas already nodded his agreement to come.
"That is an offer one cannot refuse," Aragorn said with a smile.
When Mîrdolen turned to Gimli, waiting for his answer, the Dwarf replied with assurance, "I will stand anything you will put in my glass."
Mîrdolen cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Let us have a try, shall we?"
* * * * *
"And he came calling, 'MÎRDOLEN!!'", the older Elf recounted, mimicking his father's tone. "'Will you ever grow up!'", he finished and all four of them burst out laughing. "I think I never saw him that angry… Except maybe that one time about the incident in the cellar… Do you remember, Legolas?" Mîrdolen concluded with a mischievous smile.
"It is still painfully engraved on my memory, especially the punishment…" Legolas winced. "He thought I was the one responsible for it and I got punished in your place."
The other Elf snorted. "You had not even gone halfway through the punishment, Mother relieved you while she never did such thing for me."
"She had guessed I was not to blame," shrugged Legolas.
"No, you have always been Mother's favourite," Mîrdolen retorted, no hint of jealousy or resentment in his voice, "her little one…"
During the awkward silent pause that followed, Gimli was sure he felt the mood slightly falling. However the ever cheerful Mîrdolen soon brightened up:
"There is also that one story involving Legolas and that fair maiden, what was her name? Legolas?"
Legolas suddenly blushed furiously and took Mîrdolen's glass of wine away from its owner. "I think you have already drunk more than is reasonable, Mîrdolen," he finally said.
"Have I?" the older Elf teased.
"Most certainly," Legolas stated. "Moreover it is already extremely late and I suggest we call it a day."
Aragorn nodded. "Legolas is right, it is very late and we need some rest. Therefore if you would excuse me, I will return to my rooms at once as well."
Mîrdolen walked his guests back to his door and in a minute Aragorn and Legolas both left, leaving behind them a Dwarf and an Elf alone in the dark corridor.
As for Gimli he dawdled, looking at Mîrdolen waiting on the doorstep. He soon asked with curiosity, "so what about that maiden?"
Mîrdolen burst out laughing and wrapped an arm around Gimli's shoulders, bringing him back inside. "Come, Master Dwarf, the end of the night has not to be lost for all…"
* * * * *
Gimli stood on tiptoe to reach the tray, refilled his plate before sitting again.
Legolas could not help but smile. "I see that while you claimed Mirkwood's wine was not much to your liking, Mirkwood's food is."
"That is not exactly what I would call a decent breakfast, but I will go for what I have handy."
Aragorn smiled but new better than to intervene - it would get out of hand soon enough.
Legolas snorted. "'Handy' hardly seems a fitting word seeing how much trouble you have to reach the salver."
"Out of respect for your long-legged selves," Gimli began, bowing quickly to Legolas, Aragorn, Mîrdolen and to a distant Faelernil - who did not even watch, "I decided not to chop the table's legs to make it more reachable."
"How considerate of you, Master Dwarf," Mîrdolen jested.
Faelernil, sitting alone at the other end of the long table and desperately trying to read some parchment while eating, would have rolled his eyes with annoyance had he had a little less control over his display of emotions. Instead he only let go a long and silent sigh.
"Aye, indeed. How considerate of me," Gimli concluded. The Dwarf looked thoughtful for a second until an amused gleam lit his eyes. "However, if that can be any comfort to you Legolas, I think that silver tray is beautiful."
Legolas turned to stare at his friend and blinked twice. A silver tray. Beautiful. Granted the silverwork was exquisite, but getting a compliment from a Dwarf used to handle gold and gems probably hid something.
"Actually I think that is the most beautiful silver tray I have ever seen," Gimli went on.
Maybe his friend had drunk too much wine the night before, Legolas mused - after all they had *all* drunk too much wine the night before. Turning to Aragorn the Elf saw that the former Ranger was mirroring his flustered expression while next to him Mîrdolen was smiling as if in anticipation. A bright red light suddenly flashed in Legolas' mind as he turned back to Gimli - he did not like that gleam in the Dwarf's eyes.
"Somehow it reminds me of a bird fallen from its nest," Gimli continued. "It is wounded and can only flutter its wings helplessly; its feathers are ruffled and it looks utterly lost." Gimli paused dramatically. "But in a good way, since it can still sing beautifully."
Aragorn barely held back his laughter when he realised what it was the Dwarf might be talking about, especially when he saw the way Legolas' face had suddenly fallen - obviously the storytelling had not totally stopped when he and the archer had left Mîrdolen's rooms.
Legolas' eyes had first widened and then he had cast a furious look at his brother while Gimli finished. Mîrdolen shrugged, wearing an almost angelic expression on his face.
"You," Legolas menaced the older Elf on a playful tone, "will pay for that."
"Who will pay for what and to whom?" Thranduil's voice echoed as the King of Mirkwood entered the room.
All immediately froze like children caught red-handed - except Legolas who had the presence of mind to sheepishly withdraw his accusing finger, Aragorn who was too amused to hide his growing smile, and Faelernil who was already stiff enough.
"It has been a long time since my sons were last all gathered under the same roof, and it is a rare pleasure," Thranduil went on. "It would grieve me to see them spend their time squabbling." The Elf's gaze hovered over his sons but remained mainly on Mîrdolen as if he guessed where the trouble came from.
After a long pause Thranduil sat somewhere near Faelernil and asked something to his oldest son in Elvish. Both Legolas and Aragorn pricked up their ears to listen but Mîrdolen seemed to be already aware of what was being said.
Meanwhile Gimli frowned and closed his eyes before slowly massaging his temples.
Legolas switched his attention back to the Dwarf. "Are you all right?" he asked with a hint of worry in his voice.
Gimli shook his head. "Worry not my friend, it is merely a headache that has been taunting me for a couple of days."
"Why did you not tell me about it earlier?" Aragorn intervened. "I could have given you something to ease the pain."
"I need no draught. It will be gone soon enough," Gimli claimed, wondering up to which point he believed his own words. His headache had done naught but increase along the last few days, and the wine the day before had only helped to briefly ease it a bit. Maybe should he take it more into consideration?
----------------------------------
End of Chapter Twelve...
I know. I'm evil. But the chapter was so light-hearted I *had* to write something evil at the end.
Anyway, did you spot that plot bunny I told you about? Please let me know in a review. I don't want to leave you hanging if you didn't spot it, but it's about that thing Gimli was told by Mîrdolen and that the Dwarf uses to tease Legolas in the last scene. After writing that I can't help but picture a very young Legolas trying to woo an Elf lady but saying all the wrong things because he asked his way too michievous older brother for help... I'm seriously considering writing a one chapter independant fic about that, so I'd like to know if you'd like me to.
Pleeeeease tell me in a review!
Next chapter: "A turn of events" (back to angst! yay! And if you hate me because of the end of chapter 12 you're going to want me dead by the end of chapter 13... So prepare your death threats!)
Besides, I don't think I said it before, but Faelernil and Mîrdolen names are all mine. I really racked my brain to find them (because yes, their names actually mean something). Their personnalities are aaaall mine as well. I don't want to sound possessive, but I really worked on them so if you'd like to use them in a story, please ask.
Also, does any of you know how to get rid of a rather nasty plot bunny? Because one has been chewing on my leg ever since I wrote a particular part of this chapter and wouldn't let go.
BTW, I'd love to see if any of you can spot that plot bunny... That could be interesting...
Now a few answers to reviews:
dragonfly32: I'm glad you liked the way I wrote Thranduil, I hate it too when he's portrayed as evil. But Faelernil is not nasty. He's just, er... older and wiser? Well, older that's for sure, but wiser... *g* Anyway you'll hear more about Legolas' brothers in this chapter.
SpaceVixenX: Well I'm glad you enjoy this story! But I'm far from being done with it and still have plenty of things to write about! ;-)
I would also like to thank Candice again, because I really can't thank her enough.
Some Stories are Better Left Untold
Cindra smiled broadly as her former travelling companions entered Mirkwood's House of Healing. She propped herself up on her elbows to greet them.
"It is a pleasure to see you well," Aragorn spoke up. "Have you fully recovered yet?"
"I believe I have, thanks to those healers," Cindra replied. "Actually I have not felt so well in a long time."
"I am delighted to hear that," Aragorn answered.
"It is my Lord's wish to hold a celebration soon," Legolas told her. "Dínendal, the Head Healer, informed us that you would be able to leave the House of Healing no sooner than later today. Hence my Lord decided the celebration would be held tomorrow night. You are of course invited to this event."
Cindra nodded. "It will be a pleasure. I also cannot wait to visit this place."
An Elf maid walked closer. "I beg your pardon gentlemen," she said, "but this lady still needs some rest. I will have to ask you to shorten your visit."
All complied immediately and left the House of Healing. However Niyan briefly insisted that the Elf maid allowed him to stay at Cindra's bedside but was promptly shut out by said Elf maid.
That little game Mîrdolen was playing was indeed very entertaining, Gimli thought. A bit cruel for the other two interlocutors, but certainly entertaining. The celebration had been going on for several hours already and he found he enjoyed the Elf's company almost as much as Legolas'. He had not spoken much among his conversation group, composed of Mîrdolen, Niyan, Cindra and himself, but the Elf was creating enough trouble on his own.
The Dwarf watched, concealing his amusement the best he could, while Niyan clumsily complimented Cindra. The young woman stared at the warrior for what seemed like the umpteenth time that evening - her unease in the dress Elf maidens had given her was obvious - and before she could reply anything Mîrdolen interrupted her and changed the subject. Again. And obviously intentionally.
"So, how far exactly is Norea from Middle-earth's shores?" Mîrdolen enquired innocently.
Gimli smiled as Cindra alternately looked at the Man and the Elf, probably trying to figure who to answer first. She seemed to choose Mîrdolen for she answered:
"I could not tell exactly in terms of distance since that trip is seldom taken, but it is quite close to Aman if that information can be of any help to you."
"Do you still suffer from your wound?" Niyan wondered worriedly.
"No, no I - "
"And how long is a journey here?" Mîrdolen interrupted again.
"It, er… Quite long, several weeks…" Cindra stuttered.
Before Niyan had a chance to say anything else, Mîrdolen asked, "That is fantastic. But how do you - "
Gimli did not listen to the new question - he had had enough of them. He gave a quick look around and soon spotted Legolas at the other side of the Dining Hall, talking to some Elves the Dwarf did not know and wearing an unnatural smile. Not far away were Thranduil and Aragorn, along with Faelernil and his spouse. If Aragorn's frown was any indication, they were in the middle of a very serious discussion.
His attention switched back to Legolas as some noble Elves took their leave of his friend. Somehow the archer seemed kind of relieved.
There was a lull in conversation so Gimli took the opportunity to speak. "If you will excuse me, there is someone I need to talk to."
The others nodded as he left and walked towards Legolas.
"Hail, Legolas."
"Suilad, Gimli. What brings you to this side of the room?"
"To be honest, I was wondering why you looked less than happy while this celebration is held in your honour. You used to be more cheerful at other festivities."
"Mind you, I *am* happy," Legolas retorted.
"But…?" Gimli guessed.
"But this celebration is different," the Elf stated.
Gimli understood what he meant right before he thought of asking how different it could be. They were in Mirkwood now, among his peers. He was no longer just Legolas. He was Prince Legolas, King Thranduil's son, standing stiffer than he used to, wearing a green and silver tunic embroidered with the Royal family's arms.
And as far as Gimli could tell, Legolas was not comfortable with being Prince Legolas. No wonder he usually never brought his title up.
"I understand," the Dwarf eventually said, "but you need not - "
"Legolas," Faelernil called as he walked along, only casting a quick disdainful look at Gimli before acting as if the Dwarf did not even exist.
Gimli coughed lightly to remind him of his presence but was politely ignored by the older Elf.
"Faelernil…" Legolas greeted back, hiding rather efficiently his lack of enthusiasm.
"I am afraid I did not have the time to talk to you until now, but I wanted to tell you I am glad to see you back, little one."
Legolas' slight flinch at the nickname was not lost on Gimli. Interesting, he thought. He might have to remember that one - one could never tell when knowing how to annoy an Elf could prove useful… The Dwarf repressed a mischievous smile. Instead he coughed again - he hated being ignored.
"I am glad to see you too, Faelernil," Legolas replied almost convincingly.
"A lot has happened here these last years but I am sure our Lord will soon tell you all about it," assured Faelernil.
"I have no doubt he will," came the reply.
Gimli decided it was high time to cough again, a bit louder this time. A gleam of annoyance briefly shone in Faelernil's eyes but the Elf kept looking at his younger brother.
"I will leave you for now, for you might want to check on your… friend's health," Faelernil finally said, hesitating on the word 'friend' and still pointedly ignoring Gimli, before turning round and leaving them.
Gimli snorted. "Do you reckon he realised he was interrupting a conversation? And I care not if he can still hear me."
Legolas smiled. "I am sure he did. But he probably considered a discussion with a Dwarf had to be unimportant."
"Of course," Gimli agreed. "Dwarves are always talking about gems, caves or gold-mining, are we not?"
Legolas slightly tilted his head as if pondering that statement. "Aye, I believe that is an accurate summary."
Gimli decided not to cast Legolas a dark look - some Elves around might take it at face value. "It is a wonder to see brothers behave so differently. You and Mîrdolen are much more light-hearted than your oldest brother."
"Faelernil is the Heir," Legolas explained. "He has always had more responsibilities and duties and was brought up accordingly. On the other hand, our Lord was... more lax with my and Mîrdolen's education."
"I always thought Thranduil and 'lax' did not mix well," Gimli teased.
"You would be surprised…" Legolas retorted with a mysterious smile. His eyes lay on the cup the Dwarf was holding. "Enjoying the wine so far?"
"Certainly, though I have tasted much better before."
Legolas did not pick the judgement out. "How do my folk behave around you?" he queried cautiously.
Gimli shrugged. "I was only stared at by a couple of Elves."
"And what did you do then? Nothing too rude I hope?" Legolas asked, knowing his friend had certainly done something in return.
"I just stared back until they stopped staring," the Dwarf answered innocently. "I have to admit though that I am surprised I got no more than cold looks from your kin. I suspect it had to do with Thranduil's speech at the beginning of the celebration stating that everyone there was his guest."
"My Lord might be uncomfortable with your presence but accepts you as my friend," Legolas replied. "I bet Faelernil does not approve but he or any other Elf will not object as long as our Lord allows your being there. As for Mîrdolen, I believe he does not really mind."
"Talking of Mîrdolen, you should come over and join our discussion group," Gimli offered. "It should get most entertaining in a minute."
"How so?" Legolas enquired.
"Well, Niyan is, I believe, making attempts at wooing Cindra and should get politely rejected very soon - I am afraid the poor lad ignores an important piece of information concerning the real nature of Cindra's and Ederis' relationship and that her grief is still too fresh. Hence I presume Cindra will soon have to state things more clearly since till now she has not been very successful at subtly having Niyan understand. Meanwhile, Mîrdolen is joyfully spoiling the poor man's tries by keeping interrupting him."
"Sounds fun. You are right I should come along. I do not feel like enduring another session of greetings from Elves I barely know."
Legolas followed Gimli back to where Mîrdolen, Niyan and Cindra were still talking. Mîrdolen turned to his younger brother as Legolas stood next to him.
"I see you finally decided to join us," the older Elf stated with a warm smile.
"I was too eager to know why on Middle-earth you were patrolling the south borders yourself," Legolas replied mischievously.
"Well, you know how much our Lord likes not to be wearied," his brother said.
"I also know how much you like to weary people, especially our Lord…" Legolas remarked.
"Then I believe I need not to tell any details," Mîrdolen assumed.
"On the contrary, I would love to hear about that," Legolas objected.
"I would not want to waste your precious time with such trivialities," Mîrdolen retorted.
"What I do of my 'precious' time is my concern," the younger Elf replied, "so will you please tell me what you did exactly?"
Gimli smiled. Now he understood better why Legolas was so good at their verbal jousts - he had had centuries to train with his older brother.
Assuming the two Elves might go on for ages, Cindra interrupted, "please excuse me my Lords, but my recovery from my wound left me a bit spent. Hence if you do not mind I will now take my leave of you and return to my rooms to rest."
"Shall I walk you back to your rooms?" Niyan volunteered.
The young woman hesitated, wondering how to put it. "Thank you for the offer but that will not be necessary."
"Said you not earlier that you almost got lost while wandering through the corridors?" Mîrdolen noted. "It would be wiser if someone accompanied you back to your rooms."
Cindra gave the Elf her darkest look while he gave her his most disarming smile.
"I guess you might be right," she replied reluctantly before leaving with no further word, Niyan in tow.
"So, about those patrols…" Legolas insisted.
"If you really wish to know, we needed someone of trust and high skills there."
"Oh. Who was sent then?" the archer teased.
"As you might guess, certainly not our dear brother," Mîrdolen answered.
The two brothers burst out laughing. Both Elves were rather entertaining separately, but together they put on quite a show, Gimli mused. The Dwarf briefly wondered if it was how he and Legolas appeared during one of their 'arguments'.
The pair went on for a little while, Mîrdolen never revealing the truth behind his assignment and Legolas never giving up, until they were joined by Aragorn.
"Gentlemen," the former Ranger greeted with a nod.
"King Elessar, it is a pleasure to see you join us," Mîrdolen welcomed. "Where have you been tonight?"
"I have been talking with King Thranduil. It seems he has received many reports of an abnormal Orc activity at the west of Mirkwood."
"At the west?" Legolas wondered. "There is nothing to seek at the west."
"That is what puzzles us most," confirmed Mîrdolen. "It looks like they are gathering."
"Gathering?" Legolas shook his head. "That cannot be good."
"I see the years have not impaired your smart little self…" Mîrdolen teased. "However, now is not the time to worry about those Orcs."
"Especially since you were sent to the south while the real troubles lay in the west," Legolas teased back.
"Our Lord is getting old, his assignment decisions no longer make much sense," his brother retorted.
Aragorn cast a questioning look at Gimli but the Dwarf only smiled at him and shrugged, obviously amused by the situation.
"I bet it is Faelernil who was sent to patrol the western borders," Legolas went on.
"Well, he has always loved to draw attention to himself, has he not?" Mîrdolen answered.
"Actually as far as I can remember it was more likely you," Legolas corrected. "You have a thing with getting into trouble with our Lord."
"What could possibly allow you to suggest that?" the older Elf said with a fake indignant tone.
"Do you really wish me to relate those stories while so many guests could hear?" Legolas asked, indicating the assembly of Elves all over the Dining Hall with a tilt of his head.
"First, I would rather tell them myself than have you do it since you would probably turn them at your advantage," Mîrdolen stated while his younger brother cocked an eyebrow. "Second, you are right about people around being able to overhear. Mayhap we could take this conversation to a more private place. May I offer you all to join me in my rooms?" he asked to the Man, Dwarf and Elf. "I keep some wine there, there should be enough to last all night. That is, if those gentlemen can stand Mirkwood's finest wine…" Mîrdolen finished, mischievously looking alternately at Aragorn and Gimli, while Legolas already nodded his agreement to come.
"That is an offer one cannot refuse," Aragorn said with a smile.
When Mîrdolen turned to Gimli, waiting for his answer, the Dwarf replied with assurance, "I will stand anything you will put in my glass."
Mîrdolen cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Let us have a try, shall we?"
"And he came calling, 'MÎRDOLEN!!'", the older Elf recounted, mimicking his father's tone. "'Will you ever grow up!'", he finished and all four of them burst out laughing. "I think I never saw him that angry… Except maybe that one time about the incident in the cellar… Do you remember, Legolas?" Mîrdolen concluded with a mischievous smile.
"It is still painfully engraved on my memory, especially the punishment…" Legolas winced. "He thought I was the one responsible for it and I got punished in your place."
The other Elf snorted. "You had not even gone halfway through the punishment, Mother relieved you while she never did such thing for me."
"She had guessed I was not to blame," shrugged Legolas.
"No, you have always been Mother's favourite," Mîrdolen retorted, no hint of jealousy or resentment in his voice, "her little one…"
During the awkward silent pause that followed, Gimli was sure he felt the mood slightly falling. However the ever cheerful Mîrdolen soon brightened up:
"There is also that one story involving Legolas and that fair maiden, what was her name? Legolas?"
Legolas suddenly blushed furiously and took Mîrdolen's glass of wine away from its owner. "I think you have already drunk more than is reasonable, Mîrdolen," he finally said.
"Have I?" the older Elf teased.
"Most certainly," Legolas stated. "Moreover it is already extremely late and I suggest we call it a day."
Aragorn nodded. "Legolas is right, it is very late and we need some rest. Therefore if you would excuse me, I will return to my rooms at once as well."
Mîrdolen walked his guests back to his door and in a minute Aragorn and Legolas both left, leaving behind them a Dwarf and an Elf alone in the dark corridor.
As for Gimli he dawdled, looking at Mîrdolen waiting on the doorstep. He soon asked with curiosity, "so what about that maiden?"
Mîrdolen burst out laughing and wrapped an arm around Gimli's shoulders, bringing him back inside. "Come, Master Dwarf, the end of the night has not to be lost for all…"
Gimli stood on tiptoe to reach the tray, refilled his plate before sitting again.
Legolas could not help but smile. "I see that while you claimed Mirkwood's wine was not much to your liking, Mirkwood's food is."
"That is not exactly what I would call a decent breakfast, but I will go for what I have handy."
Aragorn smiled but new better than to intervene - it would get out of hand soon enough.
Legolas snorted. "'Handy' hardly seems a fitting word seeing how much trouble you have to reach the salver."
"Out of respect for your long-legged selves," Gimli began, bowing quickly to Legolas, Aragorn, Mîrdolen and to a distant Faelernil - who did not even watch, "I decided not to chop the table's legs to make it more reachable."
"How considerate of you, Master Dwarf," Mîrdolen jested.
Faelernil, sitting alone at the other end of the long table and desperately trying to read some parchment while eating, would have rolled his eyes with annoyance had he had a little less control over his display of emotions. Instead he only let go a long and silent sigh.
"Aye, indeed. How considerate of me," Gimli concluded. The Dwarf looked thoughtful for a second until an amused gleam lit his eyes. "However, if that can be any comfort to you Legolas, I think that silver tray is beautiful."
Legolas turned to stare at his friend and blinked twice. A silver tray. Beautiful. Granted the silverwork was exquisite, but getting a compliment from a Dwarf used to handle gold and gems probably hid something.
"Actually I think that is the most beautiful silver tray I have ever seen," Gimli went on.
Maybe his friend had drunk too much wine the night before, Legolas mused - after all they had *all* drunk too much wine the night before. Turning to Aragorn the Elf saw that the former Ranger was mirroring his flustered expression while next to him Mîrdolen was smiling as if in anticipation. A bright red light suddenly flashed in Legolas' mind as he turned back to Gimli - he did not like that gleam in the Dwarf's eyes.
"Somehow it reminds me of a bird fallen from its nest," Gimli continued. "It is wounded and can only flutter its wings helplessly; its feathers are ruffled and it looks utterly lost." Gimli paused dramatically. "But in a good way, since it can still sing beautifully."
Aragorn barely held back his laughter when he realised what it was the Dwarf might be talking about, especially when he saw the way Legolas' face had suddenly fallen - obviously the storytelling had not totally stopped when he and the archer had left Mîrdolen's rooms.
Legolas' eyes had first widened and then he had cast a furious look at his brother while Gimli finished. Mîrdolen shrugged, wearing an almost angelic expression on his face.
"You," Legolas menaced the older Elf on a playful tone, "will pay for that."
"Who will pay for what and to whom?" Thranduil's voice echoed as the King of Mirkwood entered the room.
All immediately froze like children caught red-handed - except Legolas who had the presence of mind to sheepishly withdraw his accusing finger, Aragorn who was too amused to hide his growing smile, and Faelernil who was already stiff enough.
"It has been a long time since my sons were last all gathered under the same roof, and it is a rare pleasure," Thranduil went on. "It would grieve me to see them spend their time squabbling." The Elf's gaze hovered over his sons but remained mainly on Mîrdolen as if he guessed where the trouble came from.
After a long pause Thranduil sat somewhere near Faelernil and asked something to his oldest son in Elvish. Both Legolas and Aragorn pricked up their ears to listen but Mîrdolen seemed to be already aware of what was being said.
Meanwhile Gimli frowned and closed his eyes before slowly massaging his temples.
Legolas switched his attention back to the Dwarf. "Are you all right?" he asked with a hint of worry in his voice.
Gimli shook his head. "Worry not my friend, it is merely a headache that has been taunting me for a couple of days."
"Why did you not tell me about it earlier?" Aragorn intervened. "I could have given you something to ease the pain."
"I need no draught. It will be gone soon enough," Gimli claimed, wondering up to which point he believed his own words. His headache had done naught but increase along the last few days, and the wine the day before had only helped to briefly ease it a bit. Maybe should he take it more into consideration?
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End of Chapter Twelve...
I know. I'm evil. But the chapter was so light-hearted I *had* to write something evil at the end.
Anyway, did you spot that plot bunny I told you about? Please let me know in a review. I don't want to leave you hanging if you didn't spot it, but it's about that thing Gimli was told by Mîrdolen and that the Dwarf uses to tease Legolas in the last scene. After writing that I can't help but picture a very young Legolas trying to woo an Elf lady but saying all the wrong things because he asked his way too michievous older brother for help... I'm seriously considering writing a one chapter independant fic about that, so I'd like to know if you'd like me to.
Pleeeeease tell me in a review!
Next chapter: "A turn of events" (back to angst! yay! And if you hate me because of the end of chapter 12 you're going to want me dead by the end of chapter 13... So prepare your death threats!)