A/N: Yup, next chappie! And if anyone knows the name of the Chief of the Naugrim approximately 3310 Second Age, I would really appreciate it. Thanks!
And I'm using the version of Celeborn's history which states that he comes from Doriath. And I
Disclaimer: All Tolkien's, not mine, not mine.
Elrond mentally groaned. Against all his wishes and all his careful planning he had been seated next to Celebrian. This was not good. Especially because he really didn't think that a conversation about fabrics went well with fish appetizer.
He was pleasantly surprised.
Celebrian was, not exactly shocked, but definitely surprised to be seated next to Elrond. She was willing to bet that he thought her a silly twit, especially after yesterday. Well, her mother was occupied, so she could drop that mask. Come, on, fool – say something! She sat, desperately thinking of a topic of conversation.
"Your realm, Imladris." Celebrian said.
"Yes?" Elrond replied.
"It's very nice."
"Thank you." He turned back to his fish. She was about to turn away, but decided that she should at least try again; he was her host, and she hated to be rude.
"I really liked the gardens. I've never been outside of Lothlorien, and some of those plants don't grow there, and, would you be able to let me know who designed them?"
"I did." Now Celebrian was shocked. The only models she had for running a kingdom was that of her parents' – and neither one particularly cared for gardens except that they looked pretty.
"Really? Could you show me around tomorrow? I know that you probably have one hundred and one things to do, but I don't know anyone here, really, except Glorfindel, and he, er,"
Elrond grinned. "Would you actually mean that you probably know more about gardens then he does?"
"Well, yes. So – could you?"
"I think I will have the time. Tomorrow?"
"Please."
"Lady Celebrian?" She gestured to show that her mouth was full. She swallowed.
"Yes, Lord Elrond?"
"What do you know about gardens?"
Erestor had his hands full. He was attempting to convince Celeborn and the Chief of the Naugrim (Dorin? Fwalin? Tharin? Aargh!) to cooperate. "Lord Celeborn?"
"Yes, Erestor?"
"This is the Chief of the Naugrim."
"Good evening, Chief of the Naugrim." Although the words were civil enough, the tone made the rudeness obvious. The Chief of the Naugrim caught on. His beard began to bristle like a porcupine's quills. Erestor clapped a hand to his head. He was incredibly grateful when Galadriel stepped in and smoothed things over.
"I am sure that we three have many things to discuss. My lord," she turned to Celeborn. "Were you not just saying that orcs have been found with greater frequency upon our borders?"
Celeborn nodded.
Galadriel continued. "We will probably need greater supplies of armor and weapons. We would be willing to purchase more."
The Chief of the Naugrim grinned. "I believe that I and my people might be able to assist in that; are you considering importing the completed supplies, or simply ores?"
The conversation went on from there. Lord Celeborn remained civil – which, as was later pointed out, was little short of a miracle from an elf who had once lived in Doriath. Lady Galadriel managed to lay the groundwork for negotiations, and Erestor managed to prevent putting his feet into his over-large mouth. It was later wondered if that were a larger miracle than the Lord Celeborn's courtesy.
Glorfindel, who had been seated with the Galadhrim, observed this miraculous feat. His eyes narrowed – he would do something about this Erestor. Later, when things had quieted down, and Erestor would not suspect him – he would take care of this advisor. Glorfindel had an excellent sense of humor – except when he was the butt of a joke. Unfortunately, Erestor had an excellent sense of the ridiculous, and had used Glorfindel as an example.