Chapter 2
As they entered the valley Athelas gave a small sigh of happiness. She loved the Mirkwood, but Rivendell had been her home for many years and she could not return to it without joy. Life in the Hall of the Elven King had been a challenge for her, used to the open air and space of Elrond's house. Her first thought on seeing it had been that for elves to live in a cave was wrong, but over time she'd grown accustomed to it. Still, to be surrounded by the gardens and trees again would be a welcome change.
Legolas, riding beside her, noticed the sigh and smiled. "So you've been missing your home after all," he said, his eyes twinkling. He pulled his horse up, and she stopped as well. Together they looked over the waterfalls and trees of the Last Homely House. Athelas grinned at him and held out her hand. He took it gladly.
"It is beautiful," she murmured, looking at it fondly. "But I can't miss a home I haven't left." She turned her head toward him, her black eyes sparkling with merriment.
"Never left?" Legolas asked her, puzzled. The breeze played with his hair, and he felt tired and dusty. He longed for a hot bath and a good meal. They had been on the road for many days.
"Home is wherever you are, Legolas," she told him simply. She smiled at him and he felt again the overwhelming force of his love for her.
She lifted a hand to her hair and delicately pushed a strand loosened by the breeze back behind her ear and laughed. "Come. Arwen will have food and wine, and I wish to be presentable once again, my lord."
"Athelas," he began, his voice low. "You aren't going to 'my lord' me endlessly, are you?"
She shrugged and adjusted her gloves. "Not endlessly, my love. It may slip once in a while," she said teasingly. He rolled his eyes at her and laughed ruefully.
"I thought we had discussed this," he said plaintively. "You are no longer only the Lady Athelas, companion to Arwen, you're the Lady of Mirkwood."
"Yes, yes, and Arwen is Lady of Imladris. But old habits are hard to break, Legolas. It will take much longer than this for me to get used to the idea. You may have to remind me once or twice." She laughed softly at the exasperated expression on his face.
Legolas began to urge his horse forward, Athelas following behind him. "If you call me 'my lord Prince and husband' even once, Athelas, I will not be happy."
"Oh, I promise to behave, Legolas," she told him. He wished he could believe their notions of proper behaviour would coincide.
Arwen was waiting impatiently by the gate as they rode in. Athelas had barely dismounted when she was swept up in a hug by her friend. Arwen smiled at Legolas, as he lightly got down from his horse. He bowed gracefully to her, but she ignored that and pulled him into an embrace. He returned it gently and stepped back to look at her.
"What is it, Arwen?" he asked, noticing the worry in her face. She glanced at him and his companion, then linking her arm with Athelas, began to lead them to the rooms she had prepared for them.
"I am worried," she told them in a quiet voice as they walked. "Aragorn hasn't returned yet. Gandalf has just arrived with terrible news about Saruman." She looked at both of them with concern. "Thranduil must have told you why Father has called everyone together."
Legolas nodded and noticed that Athelas was holding the hand Arwen had laid on her arm. "Mirkwood is prepared to offer any aid we can," he told her. She smiled her gratitude.
"As Father and Gandalf are still deep in conversation," Arwen continued, with a knowing glance at Athelas, "you both have time to freshen up and rest a bit, if you wish. I've had wine sent to your rooms."
"That was considerate of you, Arwen." Athelas told her friend, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
"Only the best for the Lord Prince of Mirkwood and his Lady Wife." Arwen told her, laughing.
"You know we're not that formal in the Mirkwood, Arwen." Legolas chided her. "A simple Prince would suffice." He winked at Arwen, startling her.
"Are you jesting with me, Legolas?" Arwen asked in pretended surprise.
"He's developed this notion that he is adorably droll." Athelas said with feigned aggravation. "It doesn't help that he can be, at times." She smiled fondly at her husband. "Would you excuse Arwen and me for a little while, Legolas? I promise not to fill her ears with tales of your wicked ways."
Grinning broadly, he bowed and left them. Athelas embraced her friend once again and followed Arwen to her own rooms.
"Now, tell me everything," Athelas demanded as Arwen poured wine for them both.
She listened intently, sipping at her glass, as Arwen outlined the troubles her father and Gandalf faced.
"Saruman has betrayed us!" she told her spellbound companion. "He actually tried to kill Gandalf! Aragorn has gone to find the hobbits, and bring them here. I am worried and afraid, Athelas. The thought of the ring in the hands of the Enemy terrifies me!" Arwen paced the room, the gestures of her hands telling her friend more about her fear than her words. Athelas shuddered and turned the conversation away from that subject.
"And yet, the thought comes, unbidden, that this may be what impels Aragorn to take the throne of Gondor," Athelas remarked. "But at what cost?"
Arwen turned to Athelas, fear and anger mixed on her face. "What did you mean by that?" she asked.
Athelas rose to embrace her friend. "We, none of us, know what consequences will come of this." She moved her head close to Arwen's ear. "I'm frightened. You remember what your father said of the Last Alliance."
"Aragorn was not alive during the Last Alliance! He would not have made that mistake. He will not this time." Arwen told her confidently.
"Thank you, Arwen. I needed to hear that. Now, while I am here, what can I do to help you?"
"You are a guest, Athelas." Arwen grinned at her. "You are to be entertained."
Athelas let out a laugh at that. "At least let me help in the entertaining. And I'm not above helping you organize and prepare for the council. I do have some experience."
"Thank you, Athelas. I must admit your presence here is a comfort. We are expecting people from all over." She grinned at her friend. "Father says I have become even more impulsive since you left us."
Athelas grinned back. "That I can well believe. However, what will he say of me?"
"He's heard about all the spider hunting you've been doing," Arwen told her with a knowing look. "Why don't you go and get ready now? I will see you at the evening meal."
Athelas made her way to her rooms. There she found Legolas, freshly dressed and busy with the arrangement of his hair. She went to him and took the comb from him. "Allow me, my lord," she said teasingly.
Legolas sighed as she quickly and deftly continued the blond plaits. "How is Arwen?" he asked her, as she finished the right side and began on the central braid.
"Worried," she replied, her fingers rapid. "There are many things preying on her mind. The situation may be worse than your father anticipated." She quickly outlined what Arwen had told her as she finished. "There, my Lord Legolas," she finished, holding up a mirror for him to admire her handiwork. "Now you shall not disgrace your father or me."
He stood up and regarded her. "I thank you, my Lady," he said, smiling at her. "However, unless you wish to face Lord Elrond's wrath by turning up at his dinner table covered in the dust of the road, you might wish to bathe yourself." He raised an eyebrow. "I could help," he suggested wolfishly.
She laughed at him and went to prepare her bath. "I think I can manage on my own, Legolas!"
"If you wear your hair down, Athelas, it will take much less time," he said, looking through the packs they had brought. "What will you wear?"
"Whatever looks freshest, Legolas. You decide." She poked her head around the screen that hid her bath. "And I would like to wear the circlet of athelas your father gave me."
She washed quickly and brushed out her hair. It was still damp as she placed the silver leaves on her head. Legolas smiled at her appreciatively, and she turned.
"How do I look?" she asked, then laughed. Growing up in Arwen's shadow had cured her of any vanity of her own person, but she still took great care with her clothes, and appearance. The deep red of her gown set her skin glowing, and her eyes were sparkling.
"As Aragorn once said to me, 'you'll do'," he told her with a good-humoured grin. "Are we now suitable to meet Lord Elrond?" He sighed. "I hope the formalities don't take too long. I am hungry!" He held out his arm to her and she placed her hand on it.
"My Lord Elrond is nothing if not hospitable," she told him in a cheery voice. "I'm sure that you will be feasting before you know it."
They made their way to the dining hall, stopping every so often to exchange greetings with other elves. They did not wish to appear rude, and so it took longer than Legolas expected. They both had many friends in Imladris, and it seemed everyone wanted to have a word with them. By the time they reached Elrond, Legolas was famished.
Elrond came down from the dais in the hall to greet them. Legolas and Athelas both placed a hand over their hearts and bowed their heads. Elrond returned the greeting and began to exchange the usual pleasantries with his guests. When Elrond turned to Athelas, she reached up to him and whispered something in his ear. Elrond smiled and inclined his head.
"Of course, dear one," he told her. "Refreshment has been prepared." He led them to seats at the table, and they began to fill their plates. Legolas looked at his wife, who smiled demurely at him and then began to speak animatedly with Elrond. He sighed and picked up his fork.
"My Lord Elrond, Imladris is as wonderful as ever. It gives me great joy to be here once more," Athelas said, turning her black eyes on him.
"I am glad to hear it, child," he told her, his dark eyes sparkling. "Although I had thought you might prefer Mirkwood."
"It is a delightful place in all its seasons. Yet there is something to be said for well-tended gardens and walks." Athelas said happily. She took a sip of her wine. "One is able to lower one's guard when strolling through Rivendell."
Elrond looked at her curiously, and sipped at his own wine. Replacing the goblet on the table, he continued. "Arwen tells me you have become quite proficient at hunting spiders."
"Yes, my lord," Athelas said contentedly. "They are a problem, and they seem to be breeding in ferocious numbers as of late. Is it not so, Legolas?"
The blond elf looked up. "Yes, they have become much more vicious lately as well."
Elrond spoke again to Athelas, ignoring Legolas contribution. "I had thought that by now you would have given up hunting all together, Athelas."
There was a spluttered choking sound from Legolas. Everyone looked at him as he drank his wine, trying to pretend he had not heard Elrond. Arwen noticed that the tips of his ears had gone very pink.
"You are not a child any longer, Athelas." Elrond began. She looked at him and blushed.
"In troubled times, Lord Elrond, sometimes ones personal desires are best set aside for a time . . . " she broke off, as Legolas dropped his fork. Arwen whispered furiously to her father for a moment. When Legolas returned from under the table, the conversation had turned to the condition of the roads on the passes. Legolas looked about, relieved.
Athelas laughed merrily and began to eat. Legolas smiled at Arwen, who winked at him teasingly, and enjoyed his meal.
After dinner was over, they went out to the garden, where Gandalf was waiting for them. He had been deep in thought, and started as they came out.
"They should be here by now," he told Elrond abruptly. "We need to send out search riders." He nodded absently at Legolas and Athelas, barely registering their presence.
"In the morning then," Elrond said. Gandalf shook his grizzled head.
"Now, Elrond. As soon as they can be readied."
Arwen turned and began to run to her rooms. Athelas followed her. Once there, Arwen began changing into riding clothes. Athelas helped by fetching her boots, her gloves. Arwen was shaking with apprehension. Athelas grabbed her hands, forcing her to look at her.
"You must calm down. You will do no one any good rushing off in a panic," she told her friend. Arwen nodded and took a few deep breaths. When her hands stopped trembling, Athelas let her go and helped Arwen finish dressing. When she had done, Athelas pushed her into her chair and began to rapidly braid Arwen's obsidian hair.
"Be done, Athelas!" she snapped. "Who cares what I look like?"
"You will care if you get your hair caught in a stray branch. Stop fussing. I'll be finished in a moment." She was as good as her word, and Arwen hastily strapped on her sword. Athelas had to hurry to keep up with her friend's long strides as hurried off to the stables. Once there, she and Athelas readied her mount and Athelas held the bridle while Arwen leapt into the saddle.
"Go. I will take care of everything here." Athelas told her. Arwen reached down and gave her hand a squeeze. "May the Valar go with you. I pray you reach Aragorn quickly."
Arwen nodded and turned her beast. Before she reached the gates of Rivendell, she was at a gallop.
Athelas hurried back to Elrond and Gandalf. Legolas had gone to round up searchers and maps. The elf lord and the wizard looked at her.
"Where is Arwen?" Elrond asked her with slight surprise.
"Arwen has gone in search of Estel," she told him quietly. He furrowed his brow and glared at her. Athelas stood her ground.
"Lord Elrond, she is an excellent rider, there are few better. She is armed. Do not be angry with her. She had to go."
"What of her duties here?" Elrond asked. "She is becoming much too rash."
"I will assume her tasks while she is away, my lord. I am sure she will not be gone overlong."
Legolas returned with several elves, distracting Elrond. He gave Athelas a long look before turning to the riders. Elrond outlined the search area, and Gandalf urged them to be off as quickly as possible. The riders, understanding the need for haste, hurried off. Legolas gave her a brief smile and joined them. Athelas rubbed her hands on her skirts and headed off to the kitchens, where she began Arwen's tasks of organizing the meals for the next few days. Having lived long in Rivendell, she was welcomed back heartily, and salved her worry for her friends in work.
The next few days passed slowly for Athelas. She worried constantly about Arwen, fearful that her love for Aragorn would overcome her better judgement. She felt anxious about Legolas as well. She had every faith in his abilities, and pushed down the occasional stab of fear for him. She went from task to task, performing duties she had long done in Rivendell, and in the evenings sat with Elrond, as serenely as ever, working at a piece of embroidery. Elrond marvelled at her calm until he caught her picking out her stitches.
"They will be well, Athelas," he told her gently. She smiled up at him, putting aside her work.
"I trust that they will, Lord Elrond. But I fear I shall not rest easy until they are all back in Imladris."
Arwen returned first, carrying a fading hobbit. Elrond rushed to her as soon as she was sighted and taking the unconscious Frodo, hastened back to the house, calling for Gandalf. Arwen, exhausted, led her horse back to the stable where she was greeted by Athelas.
"Are you all right?" she asked her friend, worry written in her eyes.
"I am fine." Arwen told her, weariness in every line of her body. "But I am afraid Frodo may not survive. The Wraiths were very close, and the wound is serious."
Athelas would let no one tend to Arwen but herself. She sent for hot water and ointments, and ordered a meal to be prepared at once. Exhausted, Arwen let her companion bathe and dress her injuries, and sat down to eat as soon as the food arrived. After finishing a glass of wine with Athelas, who sat wide eyed through Arwen's narration of the tale, she went to confer with her father. Athelas went back to the kitchens to oversee the preparations for the evening meal.
She heard a commotion in the halls, and when she went to investigate, her apron covered in flour, she found that the delegation of Dwarves had arrived. Unfortunately neither Elrond nor Gandalf could be spared from tending Frodo. Arwen rushed down the hall, nearly colliding with her friend.
"For goodness' sake, Athelas, get cleaned up and help me! I've welcomed them and sent them to see their rooms. I'm going to find Bilbo, I believe he's somewhere in the gardens. Please, see to their comfort until I get back!"
"Of course," Athelas agreed, tucking up her skirts and sprinting to her rooms. She quickly washed and made herself presentable, then headed to the Hall to attend to their company. The dwarves were seated around the hall, mugs in hand, listening to music someone had thoughtfully provided. She went to the oldest looking of the deputation and curtsied low before him.
"I am Lady Athelas, my lord. My most sincere apologies that my Lord Elrond is not able to greet you himself. An emergency has arisen. May I ask if your needs have all been met? Is there aught I can do for your comfort?"
A younger dwarf came up beside him and made a slight bow. "I hope that our arrival has not inconvenienced you too much, my Lady," he said politely. Athelas was not sure if he was as courteous as he sounded. There was a glitter in the younger dwarf's eye.
"It is I who must apologize, my lord," she said quietly. "Please believe that nothing but the utmost necessity would keep my Lord Elrond from greeting you himself."
"That's enough, Gimli," said the older dwarf. "I am Gloin, and this is my son, Gimli. We are from the Lonely Mountain." He named his other companions and they all inclined their heads to Athelas. She made another curtsy.
"Has Bilbo been told of our arrival?" Gloin asked her. "I thought I understood from the Lady Arwen that he had been."
Athelas smiled at him. "Master Baggins has aged somewhat since you last met with him, my lord. He has developed a fondness for sleeping in the sun in out of the way corners of the gardens. It may take a few moments for him to be alerted to your presence."
"You lost Bilbo Baggins!" Gimli said, accusingly. Gloin stared at his son, then turned to the elf in front of him.
"Forgive my son, my Lady," he said kindly. "He is unused to elvish ways."
"I must ask forgiveness, Master Gloin. I have kept you talking when I should have been attending to your comfort. Master Baggins will be brought as soon as it is possible. The evening meal will be ready in a short while. Is there anything I can bring for your ease in the meantime? Is the music pleasing?" She felt the muscles in her cheek twitch at the accusation of losing Bilbo. The hobbit had a disconcerting habit of disappearing just when he was most wanted. Somehow, she felt an impulse to laugh. She pushed it down, but her eyes were bright with merriment.
"The music is well enough." Gloin said, with an answering smile in his own eyes.
"Aye, if one could understand the words." Gimli said gruffly.
"Your pardon, Master Gimli," she said. "I shall attend to it directly." She looked with relief at Arwen ushering a smiling Bilbo into the Hall. The dwarves gathered around the hobbit and greeted him enthusiastically.
"How did it go?" Arwen asked in a whisper. Athelas hid her giggle behind her hand.
"The young one, Gimli, is a bit outspoken," she whispered back. "But the others are all politeness. Pardon me, I must ask the musicians to sing in a language our guests can comprehend." She spoke to the elves, who gladly switched to the common tongue. On her way back to Arwen and their guests, she saw an older elf gesturing to her urgently.
"The prince has returned, my lady," he told her, "and he is asking for you."
"Where is he?"
"In the courtyard. I have told him of the Lady Arwen's return."
"Thank you. Please tell Lady Arwen where I have gone."
She calmly left the hall, and once she was out of sight quickened her steps. To run would be undignified, she thought, as her pace increased.
He was waiting in the courtyard, with the breeze blowing his fair hair about his face. She reached him and, surprising herself, reached out her hand. He took it and smiled at her. She led him quickly back to their rooms where she immediately threw herself into his arms.
"I have missed you, Legolas," she told him, burying her face in his chest. He held her tightly for a moment, and then pulled back and looked at her.
"What has been going on?" he asked teasingly. "I leave for a few days, and when I return all Imladris is in uproar. What have you done?"
She poured them both wine, and then sat on her divan. Legolas took the chair he had always preferred, and toasted her. "To you, beloved," he said, taking a sip. "Now tell me what has been happening to cause you to lose all sense of propriety and run down the halls of Rivendell." He laughed at her shock. "Oh, yes. I saw you."
"In my defense, Legolas, it has been a most trying day." She outlined Arwen's return, Elrond and Gandalf's frantic attempts to save Frodo, Aragorn's journey with the hobbits, and the arrival of the dwarves. Legolas did not find Gimli's implications that they had misplaced Bilbo as humorous as Athelas did.
"Dwarves," he muttered. "Why dwarves?"
"Lord Elrond would not have invited them if he did not think it important, my love," she told him soothingly. "Please, try to be patient with them. Master Gloin is very polite and kind. His son, Gimli, is, well, feisty. I fear it is he who may be the most trying to you."
Legolas muttered under his breath, and Athelas, choosing not to hear him, began to heat water for his bath. While it warmed, she helped him out of his travel clothes and into a loose robe. Then she untied his braids and began to tease out the tangles in his long blond hair. He sighed and relaxed under her ministrations.
"I should go away more often," he told her, "if only for the pleasure of the homecoming."
She laughed and shooed him into the bath. "I should see if Arwen needs any help with the dwarves," she told her husband.
"Arwen will understand," he replied, as the hot water eased tired muscles. "Do you honestly think we'll see much of her when Aragorn returns?"
Athelas could not argue with that.
When they returned to the Hall, it was to find Gandalf and Bilbo in animated conversation with their guests. Arwen had gone to oversee the final preparations for the meal, and Athelas quickly made the introductions. A chill fell over the group as they discovered Legolas was the son of Thranduil.
"Oh, for goodness sake!" Bilbo's voice rang out. "We shan't drag up all that old business again! What's done is done, I say, and you must admit, the whole incident makes a wonderful chapter in my book."
"Of course," Gloin said, extending his hand to Legolas, who took it, gripping the dwarf's forearm. Gandalf looked up to see Arwen coming to announce dinner. Gandalf offered his arm to Arwen, who took it gratefully. Gloin surprised Athelas by offering her his arm. She took it with a smile and he led her into dinner.
Arwen had put some thought into the seating arrangements, with Gloin on her right and Gandalf on her left. Athelas was between Bilbo and Gimli, and Legolas was a few places down from her. She did her diplomatic best to keep Gimli cheerful, and discovered that if she just let him talk, he found her a wonderful conversationalist. In her heart she would have much preferred an intimate dinner with Legolas in their rooms, but she found this new duty both stimulating and amusing.
After dinner they retired to the hall. There was always music in Imladris, and Athelas found herself grateful to sit quietly behind Arwen and listen for a few moments after the hectic day she'd had. Arwen sat composedly by Gloin, who was discussing something with Bilbo. Athelas, knowing Arwen was more tired than she appeared, caught Legolas' attention and nodded her head in Arwen's direction. She was appreciative that he understood her hint and approached Arwen with a fresh cup of wine.
While she watched Legolas and Arwen, Gimli came and sat beside her. He was anxious to continue their conversation about the Lonely Mountain. With one eye on Arwen she listened to him. When Legolas strode away from Arwen, Athelas stood and excused herself to Gimli. He bowed, a genuine smile on his face, and she turned to Arwen.
"Forgive me, Lady Arwen, but I believe the days events have fatigued you more than we anticipated. If you will excuse us?" she said politely to the company. "I fear we must retire."
Amid the farewells and bows, she took Arwen by the hand and they left the hall. Legolas looked after them longingly, but Athelas shook her head at him. He sighed and turned back to listen to Bilbo.
"You are too bold these days, Athelas." Arwen told her, giggling, as they reached her rooms. "What will Father say about this?"
"Oh, he'll have many things to say. But you are exhausted, Arwen. You need rest. He'll understand that. He loves you above all other considerations."
"I would rather help Father with Frodo," she began, but Athelas would have none of it.
"I will go and check with your father. He is more than able to care for our young hobbit," she told her friend, a hint of facetiousness in her voice. " You get into that bed and I'll have some tea sent in. I'll be back in a moment."
Elrond's report was not encouraging, and Arwen understood his frustration. He was single-minded when he had a patient. The hot tea relaxed her. She was content to lay under soft blankets and share some light conversation with Athelas. Faster than she had thought possible, she fell asleep. Athelas slipped from the rooms to her own suite. She was surprised to find Legolas already there, and in a foul temper.
Shutting the door behind her, she went to the kettle to make tea. Legolas stared out the window at the autumn trees.
"What happened?" she asked quietly. He turned and looked at her, his eyes snapping with rage.
"Elrond sent me to my room," he said acerbically. She stared at him in astonishment.
"You are not a child, Legolas. He would not send you from the Hall unless . . . " she began cautiously.
"I got into an argument with that dwarf," he told her, looking out the window again.
"Gloin?" she asked, shocked.
"No, he's very courteous. It was that other one, the one you were cavorting with all evening."
She tried to hide her smile, ducking her head to check the tea things. When she felt she had control of herself again she straightened and handed him a cup. "I was not cavorting, Legolas. I was being hospitable. Arwen was in no way ready to deal with all those dwarves on her own. She was completely drained by today's events. I have spent many hours with guests in the Mirkwood, and you have never called it 'cavorting' before." She forced back a giggle and took a seat.
"I wish you would take this seriously, Athelas. I have been sent from the company in disgrace. What will my father have to say about that?"
"I do not know. I also do not plan to tell him. Now," she said, patting the seat beside her on the divan. "What was the argument about?"
"Father. That Gimli insulted him," he told her, sitting down with her.
She looked at him in horror. "Insulted Thranduil! What did he say? And how did Elrond come to be there?"
"Gandalf had gone to relieve Elrond for a while. Elrond wanted to greet his guests. I stayed there and listened attentively, as a good elf should. My manners were impeccable, Athelas. And then, after Elrond came into the Hall, Gloin went to speak with him. Gimli said something terrible about Mirkwood and Father." He looked at her with smouldering anger in his eyes.
She put her cup on the side table and folded her hands in her lap. Bracing herself for the worst, she asked him. "What did he say?"
"He said," Legolas took a deep breath, "that the Mirkwood was known to be the worst and most foul forest in Middle-Earth and he did not understand how anyone could choose to live there." He banged his cup down, and Athelas took his hands in hers.
"And what did he say about your father?" she asked gently.
He looked at her with some surprise. "I just told you," he said. She stared at him blankly.
"But, my love, that is not an insult to Thranduil . . . " she began. He pulled his hands away and stood up.
"Foul forest? How anyone could live there?" he exclaimed loudly. She jumped up and pulled his arm, forcing him to sit again.
"Please, speak softly," she told him, "this is Imladris. Sound carries. You will upset the others."
"Of course," he said, lowering his voice. "I couldn't take that, that, rock cutter having the gall to insult my home! He insinuated that if Father wished he could clean out the whole place!" he continued in a vicious whisper. "I lost my temper and told him that the Mirkwood was a pleasant home, much more pleasant than grubbing underground. Then Elrond called me, and very gently suggested that I was tired from my journey and should return to my rooms and rest."
"Legolas, to those who don't know the delights of Mirkwood, it does have the reputation of being an evil place. There is nothing we can do about that. And you must face it, my love, you do not completely trust dwarves." He looked at her sharply. She reached out and cupped his face in her hand.
"You don't. Neither does you father. Gloin was once imprisoned in the Hall. Gimli feels that as keenly as you do the insult to Thranduil tonight. But for the good of all Middle-Earth, you must keep your temper! Bilbo was right, there is no benefit in listing all the injuries elves and dwarves have done to each other. We are guests here. We must be in control of ourselves." She sighed, looking at him with love in her black eyes.
"Arwen should have been asleep hours ago," she told him. "But we must do what civility demands. And although I think I've heard enough about the Lonely Mountain for a lifetime, should circumstances require it, I will listen to even more." He chuckled softly at that, some of the anger leaving his face.
"What about Elrond?" he asked her, taking her hand and turning it to kiss the inside of her wrist.
"That," she laughed, "is the easiest part of your dilemma. Tomorrow you will look in on our Frodo, and mention to my Lord that you are ashamed that you were unable to keep your temper under control."
"I should probably add that I am terribly sorry to have caused uproar in his house at such a delicate time." Legolas told her, humour now replacing the anger.
"You see," she said brightly, "once you begin it's quite easy. He will, of course, tell you how shocked he is at your behaviour, and that he expected better from you."
"And I shall be properly contrite, and plead exhaustion as my excuse."
"No, no excuses. Lord Elrond is not fond of excuses," she said, getting up to pour more tea for them.
"You sound as if you know from experience," he teased her, accepting his cup.
"Trust me in this," she said, sitting back down. "I have done my share of apologizing to Lord Elrond, and the cooks, and the grooms, and just about everyone else in Imladris. I told you before, I was a wayward child."
"And I still refuse to believe it," he told her, laughing softly.
"I can also tell you that Lord Elrond's anger does not last long. Once you apologize to him, and to the dwarves, all will be well."
"To the dwarves . . . " he began, all his new found good humour leaving him. He put down his cup, stood and went back to looking out the window. She sighed and sipped her tea.
After a long while in thought, he came back and sat down beside her. She looked at him with concern, fearful that perhaps he could not do this thing.
"I will apologize to the dwarves before the morning meal," he said stoically. "I shall be properly remorseful for my behaviour tonight. I shall do as my father commanded me, attend this council and give whatever aid I can. But, beloved," he turned and looked at her with determination, "that does not mean I have to like it."