Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings although I've now added a ranger to my Christmas list.
Howdy, and welcome to yet another chapter of In Imladris. Thank you soooooo much to all of you absolutely wonderful reviewers, I've emailed replies when I could. Sorry about the delay for this chapter, I got distracted by men, elves and snowballs hehe! (That's another story I posted a couple of days ago, for those of you thinking that I'm really weird right now.) Hope you enjoy the new chapter!
A/N: Like many other fanfic authors, I have chosen to deviate from Tolkien's work in writing that Gilraen, Aragorn's mother, was killed along with Arathorn, just for the purposes of my story.
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Chapter 4: The Courage of Samwise
Samwise Gamgee's mouth hung open as he stared at the peculiar spectacle which was fast approaching him. From ringwraiths to rangers, he had seen many a strange sight since leaving his home on Bagshot Row, but this one beat them all solid. Never, in all his time as a hobbit of the Shire, had he ever though that he would see a dripping wet, fully-clothed prince of the elves stalking in his direction with a furious expression on his face.
As the elf continued to stride directly towards him, Sam edged back as far as he possibly could on the stone bench on which he sat. Frodo and Bilbo, who rested next to him, were also watching the approaching elf, Bilbo looking much amused at the sight of the sodden prince.
Much to Sam's relief, the elf veered to the right following a gravel path which ran alongside the stone seat. Finally noticing the three hobbits as he passed within a few feet of them, Legolas paused, gave a graceful bow as trails of water trickled down his pointed ears, then hurriedly continued on his way.
However, the Mirkwood elf altered his path abruptly as he caught sight of two dark-haired figures approaching from the very direction in which he was headed. Catching sight of the soaked being, a grin appeared on each identical face and their steps quickened simultaneously. Sam watched in puzzlement which bordered on fascination as Legolas glanced round frantically, apparently searching for an escape route. His face lit at the sight of a heavily limbed oak tree directly above him and he crouched slightly, preparing to leap into its branches. However, it was too late for escape, for Elladan and Elrohir had already reached his side. Despite the blonde elf's vehement protests, they each seized a slender arm and began to guide him back towards the hobbits.
"Come, Legolas," one of the twins was saying, Sam couldn't tell which, as they came within hearing distance. "If you are to journey with these admirable hobbits, you must get to know them a little better." Reaching the small party, the two seated themselves cross-legged on the ground before the bench, pulling their resisting friend down between them.
"I would prefer to make a slight detour to my room where I have a spare change of clothing," Legolas stated firmly, glaring at the twins, but his expression quickly changed to one of concern as he glanced towards the hobbits. "I mean no offence, master periannath," he added quickly, worried that he had offended the small creatures, who quickly hastened to assure him that they had taken no insult at his words.
"There is no time for that," said the other twin. "You are leaving soon, and there will be no chance for idle chatter on the quest."
The elf prince looked at his friend with his eyebrows raised, an act which only caused more water to trickle down his brow. "I believe that it is quite a long walk to Mordor, Elladan," he said bluntly, but the other elf shook his head impatiently.
"Of course it is, tithen las," he replied. "What I meant was that it will be hard to get a word in whilst in the company of the Masters Merry and Pippin." Sam chuckled at this, knowing only too well how true it was.
"Must you call me that?" Legolas demanded irritably as he pulled his long hair from where it was plastered to his back and began to wring it out between quick fingers. Both twins nodded simultaneously. The elf prince subsided with a sigh and resumed ridding himself of what water he could.
Silence reigned within the small party for some minutes, and Sam began to grow curious about a matter which had garnered his attention. However, he kept his mouth closed, too nervous to speak before the elves about whom he had heard so many stories. Sam began to hope that one of his fellow hobbits would ask about that which plagued him and thus save him from doing so himself. Yet when someone finally did speak, it was only Bilbo inquiring whether the ale in the Green Dragon was still at its old standard, which, Frodo assured him, it was. Sam waited patiently for the issue to arise in the general conversation, but finally his curiosity got the better of him. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage into one big ball and asked the question which had been badgering him ever since he had first seen a soaking wet elf prince march by.
"Mr. Legolas, sir?" His voice echoed in the stone courtyard. He took another breath and went on, his determination growing. "Not that it's any of my business or anything, but I was just wondering if there's a reason you're so wet, it being the middle of the day, and you in your clothes and all." His voice trailed off into silence and he glanced nervously at the elf, waiting for his reaction.
Legolas' lips tightened and Sam's heart quailed briefly before he realised that the elf's anger was not directed at him, but at someone else. "The reason that I'm so wet, Master Gamgee," he answered tersely, "is because that…Human…has an twisted sense of humour and no concern for his own safety!"
Bilbo chuckled. "What did that ranger do this time?" he asked, and Sam realised with a start that they were talking about Strider.
"For a reason inconceivable to any mind other than his, he pushed me into the lake."
The twins both broke into merry laughter at this revelation, which only increased in volume as the blonde elf glared at them. "Do not tell me that you did not expect he had something to do with my current state," Legolas grumbled, and both grinned at him, still laughing.
"We had our suspicions of course, but it is so much more enjoyable hearing it from you," the elder twin answered.
"I am glad that I was able to provide you with some entertainment, Elladan," the archer muttered, and moved to stand, but was quickly restrained by the other elf, who tugged him back to the ground.
"Nay, Legolas, you know we mean you no harm," he said. "Unlike our little brother it seems. May I ask why he felt it necessary to push you into the lake?"
"I believe he claimed it was revenge for depriving him of his sleep yesterday morning," he replied, then a smile formed on his face. "But he was running too fast to discern his exact words."
"Running?" Sam echoed.
"I imagine that he wished to avoid any revenge the prince here may have dealt out after he had emerged from the lake," Bilbo said with a chuckle. The youngest son of Thranduil merely smiled.
Elladan was eying the Mirkwood elf curiously. "I must admit, Legolas, I am surprised that you are not seeking vengeance upon my little brother at this very moment," he said, and the blonde elf mumbled a reply under his breath, too low for Sam to catch.
"I beg your pardon?" enquired Elrohir and Legolas glowered at the younger twin, knowing full well that the sharp elven ears had heard him quite clearly the first time.
"I said, he's with Arwen," he repeated abruptly, and the twins' laughter renewed. Frodo and Sam glanced at each other, puzzled as to why the presence of the lovely elf maid would stop the skilled archer from pursuing the man.
Seeing the puzzled looks of the two younger hobbits, Bilbo explained, his legs swaying gently between bench and ground. "The Lady Arwen is somewhat protective when it comes to the Dunedan," he announced, nodding in the direction of Legolas. "As I am sure the prince here can tell you."
"Valar," muttered Legolas. "Arwen did not speak to me for weeks after the last incident. After first lecturing me for near upon an hour that is. My ears are still sore," he added, and nimble fingers reached up to rub one tenderly. Sam could not help but stare at the elf, chewing his lip bemusedly. This behaviour did not fit at all with the proud elven prince who had represented his father and king at the previous day's council, who had heatedly defended Strider against the Man from Gondor. Sam glanced around at his companions to see if they were having the same thoughts, but his looks were in vain.
Frodo seemed amused rather than puzzled, but then, he had heard more of the elves and their ways from his uncle. "What happened?" he questioned curiously, and Sam glanced over at the other hobbit, whose blue eyes stood out sharply against his dark curls and still too pale face.
"Legolas pushed our brother off a cliff," stated Elladan simply, and the hobbits gaped at the prince in shock.
"Nay, he fell off that cliff of his own accord," protested Legolas defensively, raising his hands as if to proclaim his innocence. "I just happened to be the only person in the area when it happened and thus got the blame."
"Is that so?" enquired Elrohir, his left eyebrow raised sceptically. "For Estel claims something different."
"Of course he does," replied the blonde as though such a thing were obvious. "It sounds less foolish if he blames someone else for his own clumsiness. And anyway, it was only a little cliff."
"Nevertheless, my point is that you still had to face the Evenstar's wrath," interrupted Bilbo, as Elrohir's other eyebrow rose to the same level as the first.
Sam blinked. The word 'wrath' did not seem appropriate when discussing the lovely elf maiden. True enough, she had faced five of the Nazgul, and won, yet when he had seen her around Rivendell, most often with Strider come to think of it, she had seemed calm and gentle, the picture of a proper elf maid he thought.
Frodo's thoughts however, were of a different kind and he was looking at the elf prince curiously. "Excuse me, Legolas?" he asked politely, and the archer turned to him. "You seem to know Stri- Aragorn, I mean, quite well."
"Aye, we have known each other for many years," the elf replied.
"When did you meet him?" Sam blurted out eagerly, his cheeks reddening as he dared to ask another question which he had been wondering about ever since that first day in the gardens when the elf had ambushed the ranger from the trees.
Legolas looked to the twins. "He could not have been much more than two summers old," he said, and the Noldor elves nodded their agreement.
"Aye," Elladan confirmed. "He had not lived with us for very long, had he, Elrohir?"
"Nay," his younger brother replied, shaking his head.
By this time soft smiles had come over all three elven faces as they recalled the day when an elf prince and a future ranger had first met.
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Two elves sat on the steps of the Last Homely House watching the road which stretched around the cliffs as it made its way into Imladris. Often, their eyes would stray to the small toddler who played in the sand in front of them and a gentle smile would cross their faces.
"He is late."
"He is always late," the other elf replied easily.
"Nay, he usually arrives in good time."
"Ah, but you speak of those instances when he represents his father. I, on the other hand, speak of the occasions when he is responsible for his own arrival."
The two were interrupted by a squeal from the child, who was pointing in the direction of the road which led into Imladris.
"Roch!"
"Ai, Estel, roch," said Elladan distractedly, turning back to his twin. "Yet even when he is accompanied by a contingent of guards he still manages to arrive late, not to mention injured, inevitably because, if I may quote our absent friend himself, 'he had a small encounter with some orcs.'"
"Or wargs."
"Goblins…"
"Humans…"
"Wolves…"
"Then there was that occasion with the trolls..."
"Edhel!" the child cried, pointing again to the road, then looking to his adopted brothers for approval.
"Yes, Estel, edhel," repeated the younger twin absentmindedly, focused on the discussion. "I must admit, I am still amazed that his father let him return to Imladris after that little adventure, which I believe you instigated."
"I was not to blame, if that is what you are implying."
"I am not implying it, I am stating it as a fact."
By this time, the child had decided that he would have to embark upon more drastic actions if he were to gain the notice of his usually attentive brothers. He climbed unsteadily to his feet and moved slowly towards them, determinedly managing to keep his footing. Reaching the twins, who were now discussing whether being caught in the Misty Mountains during a sudden snowstorm qualified as an adventure or merely a mishap, the dark-haired toddler pushed at his eldest brother's knee with a small hand.
"Edhel!" he demanded again and the elf, still arguing with his twin, swept the child into his arms, eliciting a delighted cry of surprise from the boy. Content now that he was secure in his brother's arms, the child settled and began to play with a hanging strand of his brother's long hair. The two elves resumed their discussion.
"I have always wondered how such a skilled warrior can be injured so often when he is not even in a proper battle," reflected Elrohir thoughtfully.
Elladan contemplated the issue. "I do not think that it is his skills which fail him, it is more the sheer number of assailants which he encounters. Yes, he is wounded more often than either of us, yet he also encounters more foes than us. In terms of averages, I would think that it evens out."
"But we are not speaking of averages."
"Are we not?"
"Nay, we are speaking of each actual encounter."
"But we are older than he is, by many a year. Do we then count those injuries we received before his birth?"
"Yes, but even so, I think that he wins."
"Are we competing?"
"Aren't we always?"
"Aye."
"Then he wins."
There was a lull in the conversation as the brothers reflected dispiritedly on their defeat to one who did not even know he was in competition. Still in his elder brother's lap, the child had grown bored with his strand of hair and was shifting about trying to achieve the best possible view of the road which led to the Last Homely House. His movements stilled suddenly as his eyes fixed once more on something making its way slowly up the valley road.
"Anyway, I imagine that he will be injured when he arrives," said Elladan with a grin.
"Is that a wager?" his twin asked, eyes lighting in interest.
"I believe it is. Shall we say, a new quiver that our Mirkwood friend has at least one-" He broke off as the child in his lap began patting his face with a small hand, urging him to look towards the gates of Imladris. "What is it, Estel?"
"Edhel!" the child demanded again, his other hand pointing towards the gates, and the Noldor elf finally looked in the direction in which the child urged. There, trotting carefully into the gates of the Last Homely House, was a grey horse bearing a rider who was leaning forward unsteadily, grasping fixedly to the horse's mane.
"Legolas!"
Hurriedly passing the small child in his lap to his twin, Elladan rose swiftly to his feet and hurried towards horse and rider. Reaching them, he placed a hand on the animal's neck, easing it to a halt as he looked with concern at the figure on it's back.
"Elrohir?" the blonde elf asked uncertainly, looking down with unfocused eyes at the elf by his side.
"Nay, Legolas, it is I, Elladan." He watched suspiciously as the slim elf dismounted with far less than his usual grace. "It has been a long while since you confused my brother and I, tithen las."
"Must you call me that?" the new arrival muttered, placing a hand on his horse's neck affectionately, or, thought Elladan privately, to steady himself. The prince of Mirkwood then took a step forward and would have fallen had it not been for the quick reactions of the dark-haired elf by his side who grasped him firmly about the waist.
"Legolas, what is wrong?"
The blonde elf did not answer, instead murmuring softly to his steed, thanking him for the journey.
By this time Elrohir had reached them, still carrying Estel in his arms. Catching his twin's eye, he motioned in the direction of the new arrival. Following his brother's gaze, Elladan saw a deep dark stain spreading itself swiftly across the elf's right calf. Without warning, the Noldo scooped his lithe friend into his arms, and, ignoring the furious, if somewhat dazed, protests, proceeded to carry him into the house. His younger twin followed close behind bearing the small child who was watching the new arrival with fascination.
"Elrohir?"
"Yes?"
"I believe you owe me a new quiver."
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Legolas of Mirkwood woke to the dimming light of evening in Rivendell. Soft shadows played across the faces of the two dark-haired Noldos who were both dozing in soft armchairs by his bed, eyes half-glazed in sleep. Sitting up carefully in his bed, Legolas assessed himself for injuries and, much to his satisfaction, found that the previously slashing pain in his leg had dimmed to a soft ache. He pushed back the blankets silently and made to stand, but halted with a start at the sight of a small figure standing in the doorway, swaying on its feet with tiredness. Seeing that one of the room's occupants had awakened, the figure moved cautiously forward, but as his curiosity and courage grew, he slowly made his way across the room to the bed on which the strange elf sat.
Legolas stared at the small dark-haired child with the silver-grey eyes, who stared back just as intently from his position on the floor beside the bed.
"Edhel," he stated firmly, and proceeded to attempt the challenging climb onto the large bed on which Legolas still sat, mystified at the appearance of the new arrival who was currently pulling the blankets off of the tall bed in his determined attempts to reach the top. Gingerly, Legolas reached forward and grasped the small body about the waist, lifting him onto the end of the soft mattress. The child climbed over the mounds of blankets to the bewildered elf and looked at the prince of Mirkwood closely. "Mine," he declared finally, then, apparently satisfied, sat himself down in the elf's lap with a tired sigh. A little hand reached out to a nearby blanket, but fell short of its goal. A soft whimper sounded, and Legolas hurriedly drew a thick cover about the small body curled up in his lap. Within minutes the child was asleep.
Legolas sat unmoving, hardly daring to breathe in case he should accidentally wake the small child. However, his injured leg began to complain increasingly due to its cramped position underneath the new arrival and Legolas soon felt that something had to be done.
"Elladan," he whispered softly, hoping desperately that the elder twin would wake. Yet the elf slept on, oblivious to his friend's predicament.
"Elrohir," he tried next, slightly louder, and the Noldo shifted in his sleep. "Elrohir!" he tried again and the other elf's glazed eyes cleared slightly. Upon seeing his little brother wrapped securely in a blanket in the lap of a strained looking elf prince, Elrohir's eyes widened. He stood to his feet quickly, knocking against his twin in his haste, and swiftly but gently took the young human from the blonde elf's lap, cradling the child against his chest still wrapped in the soft blankets. Legolas let out a soft sigh as the pressure on his wounded leg was relieved. Elladan had wakened fully by this time and he stood up, taking the toddler who had wakened slightly from all the movement, from his brother's arms. Gently swaying back and forth in an effort to lull the little one back to sleep, he turned him carefully in his arms until the small child faced the elf prince.
"Legolas, meet Estel," Elladan whispered softly.
Silver-grey eyes stared curiously into bright blue ones.
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The twins paused at this point in their tale and Sam, following their gaze, became aware of a two figures nearing the group with arms entwined. As they came closer he recognized Strider and the elf maid, Arwen, and looked immediately to Legolas, curious as to what his reaction would be to the man's appearance. The prince's stare was icy as he glared at the approaching man furiously. Yet Arwen swiftly caught his eye, and he softened his gaze hastily. The elf maid then smiled at Frodo and Sam, who thought privately that if anyone were to rival the beauty of Rosie Cotton, it would be the Evenstar of Rivendell. The two were as opposite as could be; one tall, dark and slender, holding the mysterious beauty of a midnight sky in her raven hair and deep blue eyes; the other wearing all the warmth of a summer's day, with hair the colour of the corn at harvest, and a golden light in her dancing brown eyes.
As the two came to a stop next to the small group, Sam jumped to his feet to offer the elf maid his seat, but she waved to him to sit with a gentle smile, and sank lightly onto the grass, carefully folding her dress under her. Strider remained standing, apparently wary of relaxing his guard around Legolas enough to sit down, but Arwen tugged lightly at his hand and he too joined the ever-growing group around the bench.
As conversation resumed amongst the gathered company, Legolas threw an occasional daggered glare at his human friend, being careful to do so only whilst Arwen's attention was focused elsewhere. As she asked after Frodo's health, he took the opportunity to lean in close to Sam conspiratorially.
"I still walk with a limp because of my first meeting with that human," the elf confided in an extremely loud whisper to Sam, who failed to stifle a chuckle at this most un-elf like of comments. Strider's sharp ears easily caught his friend's words, as perhaps was intended, and he turned swiftly, immediately guessing what tale the twins had been telling the hobbits before Arwen and he had arrived.
"If you had not been so careless as to let yourself get injured in the first place-" he began, but the elf raised his hand in protest.
"Nay, Estel, you would have sat on me whether I was injured or not," he said in a voice which brooked no argument.
"Very well then, it was the twins' fault for falling asleep and thus allowing me entry to the room in the first place."
"You have a point," Legolas conceded thoughtfully, but the twins exchanged outraged glances and began to protest their brother's claim indignantly. "Nay, you cannot blame us!" began one. "Why, we were not even awake!" continued the other, but Aragorn just shook his head at his brothers' denial of guilt.
"But that is our very point," he argued, and Legolas nodded in agreement. " If you had been awake then you would have been able to prevent both my entering the room and also any attempt I made to climb onto the bed, thus further injuring a guest who had been so careless as to let himself be attacked by several wargs."
"They were not wargs, they were wolves," interjected Legolas, but the ranger raised his eyebrows disbelievingly.
"Elladan?" he inquired.
"Wargs," was the reply and the ranger nodded satisfied. "As I was saying, there is no doubt that it was the twins' fault."
"Nay!" The debate raged for some minutes and finally Elladan turned to the hobbits. "Master periannath, would you be so kind as to assist my honourable brother and I in our defence?
Sam reddened at the thought of an elf asking for his opinion, yet Bilbo shook his head in firm rejection of the elf's request. "Nay, Master Elladan, do not think to drag us hobbits into this mess. You will have to fight it out yourselves."
Elladan glared at the elderly hobbit who returned the look easily, leaning back a little in order to stretch his back. Finally the millennia-old elf conceded defeat and instead turned to his sister.
"Arwen-" he began, but his twin hurriedly interrupted him.
"Do not ask her, she is biased," he hissed.
"She is our sister," the elder twin protested.
"Exactly," Elrohir replied. "We have no chance of gaining her support."
"The answer does not change, no matter who you seek to ask. There is no denying that it was your fault," Strider affirmed triumphantly. The twins looked scandalised.
Bilbo had been tapping his feet against the leg of the bench impatiently. "When are you going to finish your story?" he asked. "Some of us have better things to do than to listen to a group of elves and a ranger argue all day."
Elrohir laughed. "Very well, Bilbo, we shall continue, if only for you," he replied, and the elderly hobbit nodded in satisfaction as the tale resumed.
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In the weeks since Legolas' dramatic arrival at Rivendell, Estel had attached himself firmly to the elf prince, becoming a small shadow which followed the archer wherever he went. Legolas, for his part, seemed to have attached himself just as closely to the small child, and could often be seen going about Imladris with a child on his back, rather than his usual weapons. Estel seemed to have realised how much control he held over the blonde elf, with the result that it soon became a common sight to see the respected prince sneaking cautiously into the extensive kitchens of Imladris and emerging minutes later with an armful of sweets, cakes and pastries and a guilty expression on his face. However, Lord Elrond held the suspicion that the kitchen staff had grown wise to the prince's exploits, for the treats Legolas carried began to both grow in number and shift towards those favoured by both prince and child.
The twins had found the ever-deepening friendship between the two somewhat of a problem, for Legolas delighted in making the child laugh, something which was sure to occur if one of the twins met with an unfortunate accident. The Mirkwood elf seemed to have found a new use for his sharply honed warrior skills, with the result that the twins began walking around their own home with far more care and caution than was usual, keeping a sharp eye out for the elf prince and his small shadow lurking behind curtains, corners or doors.
Late one morning, nearly two months after the wood-elf's arrival, two identical elves could be seen from the eastern windows of the Last Homely House standing amidst lush grass underneath a sturdy, sprawling oak. Their fair voices were raised as they looked up into the branches trying in vain to see the two figures, one big, one small, which were hidden amongst the leaves.
"Legolas!" called one of the elves. "He is too small to be up there! It is not safe!"
"You do not trust me?" Legolas' face appeared suddenly out of the branches, looking hurt.
"No!"
In response, the wood-elf stuck his tongue out at the other two elves, who looked slightly shocked, before disappearing back into the leaves.
"Legolas! What if Estel sees you doing that? He will imitate you!"
A merry laugh floated down from amongst the branches. "He taught me!" came the reply, followed by the sound of a child's giggle.
The twins sighed simultaneously. "Bring him down! Please!"
"Very well," Legolas said reluctantly and, after making sure that the child was secure on his back, began to carefully make his way down to the ground. As soon as the elf's feet were on firm earth, a small thunderbolt plummeted into Elladan's legs, giving them a swift hug, before giving the same treatment to Elrohir. The child then raced away towards the house, calling back to his new friend to race him.
With a grin at the twins, the elf prince stuck out his tongue at them before darting off after the small child, catching up with him easily, but then pretending to be unable to keep up, clasping his side as though he had a stitch. Peals of a child's laughter rang out over the gardens of Imladris.
The twins looked at each other.
"And Ada says that we are immature around Estel," muttered Elrohir with a sigh. Both twins turned and began to follow the now distant figures of elf and child back to the Last Homely House.
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Sam stared at Strider, unable to believe that the grim-faced ranger who had led them from Bree was the same child in the twin's story. But then the Man, who had been fiddling with a twig he had found on the ground, looked at the stick he held and a smile curved over his stubbled face. Stealthily, he glanced at Legolas, who was still protesting to Elladan that it had been wolves, not wargs, who had attacked him, and positioned the small piece of wood between his fingers carefully. Suddenly he flipped the stick in the direction of the elf, who caught it just before it hit his forehead without pausing in his conversation. Aragorn sighed and turned to Arwen, who took his hand consolingly and proceeded to flip a stick of her own in the wood-elf's direction. It struck Legolas' brow lightly and the blonde elf looked at Arwen with an injured expression as he rubbed his forehead.
"That hurt," he muttered, and the ranger smirked at his friend in triumph.
"Speaking of hurts, Legolas, how is that you managed to make the journey to Imladris this time without even a scratch?" asked Elrohir.
"Indeed," said Elladan. "That is a most unusual feat for you, tithen las, to avoid orcs all the way from Mirkwood."
Legolas frowned. "Why must you always assume that I will run into orcs?"
"Because, dear prince, you could run into orcs whilst inside locked inside your own bedroom in your father's palace," replied Elrohir, with the air of one who had made just such a claim many a time before. Ignoring the prince's affronted expression he continued. "You have yet to answer my question. How is it that you arrived unharmed?"
Sam, glancing around, noticed that Strider had raised himself up so that he was resting on one forearm, and was looking at the prince with his eyes narrowed.
"As you well know, I was accompanied by a number of my father's advisors."
"True enough. But you still have not answered my question. How is it you are not injured?"
"I am perfectly capable of travelling somewhere without getting injured."
"Nay, tithen ernil, you are not. Now, my question?"
"You are wounded." Strider spoke suddenly and Sam jumped, almost having forgotten that the ranger was present.
"Nay, I am well," Legolas protested, but Sam was sure that a glimmer of guilt flickered across the other's face as he spoke.
The ranger stared at his friend closely, then stood to his feet and moved towards the wood-elf. "You are injured," he stated more firmly. "On your left thigh if I am not mistaken."
"It is a scratch only," the elf relented, but the ranger continued to approach. "A mere flesh wound!" he exclaimed as Strider seized his arm and began to pull him to his feet. "Strider!"
But the man ignored him and continued to pull the still-damp elf in the direction of the main house. The rest of the company looked on, Sam and Frodo somewhat puzzled, Arwen and Bilbo with smiles upon their faces, and the twins looking as though this was not at all an unusual occurrence.
"Is Legolas alright?" asked Sam, concerned.
"Last time he claimed he was 'well', he collapsed a short while later," replied Elrohir. "Yet, although he is skilled at hiding his injuries, it is rare that he is able to conceal a more serious one from Elladan and I."
The sounds of a protesting elf and a determined ranger echoed through the Last Homely House as Sam wondered about the strangeness of the big folk.
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Not an hour had passed when the pair returned. The small company had moved to the dining room and a disgruntled ranger and a far more cheerful elf settled down at the table opposite the hobbits.
"Are you all right, Legolas?" asked Frodo.
"I am, thank you Frodo," replied the elf, selecting an apple from the bowl and throwing it to the ranger, then choosing one for himself and taking a small bite.
Both twins looked disbelievingly at the Mirkwood elf. "Estel?" They turned enquiringly to the ranger, who was staring at the apple held in his hands.
"He is well," Aragorn grunted, sending the elf a dirty look, but Legolas only looked more pleased and took another bite of apple.
"What was it this time?" Elrohir asked Legolas, but the other elf, chewing contentedly, did not answer, so the twin directed his attention to his little brother.
"Estel?"
"It was a scratch only," said the man, still staring at his apple. "A mere flesh wound."
A smile graced the fair being's lips as he took another bite.
TBC
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Periannath- hobbits
Tithen las- little leaf
Tithen ernil- little prince (princeling)
Roch- horse
Edhel- elf
Hope you enjoyed this new, rather long, chapter. I couldn't find a good place to halve it because when I did, each bit seemed too short. I try to email replies to reviews, so if you want one, please make sure you log in or leave your address. Thank you for reading and please review! Pretty please! With sugar on top!