The few dwarves I encounter seem as anxious to avoid me as I am to avoid them and I find that by staring straight ahead and looking as if I know where I am going most are prepared to let me be. Oh there are a few mutterings and dark looks but no more than I anticipated at the beginning of this disastrous visit and if I can actually pull off my plan then I hope that my presence will be tolerated if not approved of.
Once away from the main halls it is much quieter. The usual guards have obviously been called away to assist in the rescue and the tunnel that leads to the north door is deserted. Slipping easily around the blocked entrance I find myself in another hall, similar in design to the one that Gimli and I came in at yesterday. Light still filters through from the shafts built high into the ceilings above me and I can see the damaged bridge that spans the chasm that leads to the outside.
I step as close as I dare to the edge of the drop and peer into its depths. Far below me I can hear water, it is dark and dank but does not feel evil as Moria did. Yet it is clear that a great battle took place here.
Any dwarven casualties have long since been moved away but there are still stray Orc arrows and spears on this side of the bridge and my sharp eyes can make out skeletons and goblin armour on the other side. Somewhere amongst that pile of bones is the Great Red Axe. Now all I have to do is find a way to cross the bridge and locate it.
That is a great deal easier to say than it is to do I find. The bridge is as Greirr said in a very poor state and I see now why the dwarves have not yet attempted to retrieve their prize relic.
Since I know they are both determined and stubborn, or at least Gimli is, and he appears to be a fair representative of his race I do not doubt that eventually they will turn their attention to attempting a rescue of the axe. Of course during the war they had more urgent matters at hand and there was little danger of an attack since the way outside is as far as I can tell completely sealed so it could be left there in perfect safety. Even so, ever cautious the dwarves had set up a guard post to see to it that the way was watched for I passed it only a moment or two ago. It would need only a single guard to stand here and prevent anyone who managed to get in from the north gate from crossing the bridge. I put one light foot on the end of it and feel it move beneath my feet. Any goblin or orc who was foolish enough to attempt to access this entrance would have ended up falling into the abyss below alongside the bridge itself. Of course that could also be my fate should I attempt to use the stone walkway. I will have to find another way to cross.
If I had my bow with me and some hithlain rope, I could easily get over the gap, but I had to surrender my weapons at the gate as we entered Erebor. I frown then recall the small stone gate house still partially standing, a little way back down the tunnel and hurry off to see what I can find that may aid me in my quest.
Someone has stored orc and goblin weapons here, obviously taken from the beasts that they slaughtered in the battle. I find a bow, not of the quality I am accustomed to using but serviceable enough for my purposes, also some arrows and dwarven rope and return to the edge of the shaft.
Fitting an arrow with rope attached I fire it across the gap and test to see that it has bedded itself securely in the strong wood of the great gates. Satisfied with that I tie the rope off at this end and then taking a deep breath and calming myself, step out onto it.
This is just as simple as crossing the river at home I remind myself keeping my gaze firmly on the wall opposite not on the gaping chasm below my feet. It is the work of a moment to cross and find myself on firm ground again. I retrieve an old torch and light it using my flint which I keep in my belt pouch.
It is a gruesome task I have set myself, yet I do not flinch from searching amongst the remains of the slain Orc and goblins and eventually my search is rewarded. Here, lodged deep into an orc skull just as the stories said it would be, is the axe.
I lift it free reverently for I know its importance and history and strap it securely to my back before beginning to make my return across the rope. Almost immediately I feel the difference and the rope begins to swing under the additional weight of the axe. I barely manage to set my right foot on solid ground when the arrow pulls away from the door and the rope skitters back across the ground bouncing as it reaches the edge of the gap. This sends a few small pebbles over the edge and that small amount of movement sets the remains of the stone bridge wobbling before falling in on itself and crashing down into the abyss below. The roar seems to go on and on echoing in the empty chamber and dust rises high up into the roof.
I do not wait to see if the noise brings folk to see what has happened but race off down the tunnel.
Before I get to the main hallways I wrap the axe in my tunic so that it is hidden, just in time for a group of dwarves are coming this way laughing and talking, I step into a side walkway and make my way back towards Gimli's sister's home.
I am sure that once I show her the axe she will support me when I have to explain to Gimli what I have done and that he will be so happy to present it to his mother that his anxiety and anger over my conduct will be forgotten.
That is I hope it will!
XXXX
Dwarves do not swoon, but I admit that if it were not for my father's steadying hand, my knees might buckle as I stare down at the gaping abyss. Visions of Moria and the terrible loss we suffered there flash into my thoughts, only this time it is my own sweet elfling who might be lying at the bottom, broken and buried in the rubble of the fallen bridge. My first thought is that I must find a way down. Legolas detests dank, dark places. I cannot leave him down there alone, but I do not know how to get to the bottom. Then a solution seems to present itself. Tied to a jutting rock formation, I see a rope, which hangs inside the wall of the chasm. Looking down I see a black arrow halfway down, bouncing off the smooth stone. So that is how he tried to make it across! I test the knot and finding it secure, I am almost ready to begin lowering myself when I hear Gloin's panicked voice shouting at me to stop. He grabs my arm and I am surprised by the strength his iron grip.
"Ye must not try it. The rope didn't hold even his slight weight; it will certainly not hold yours!"
"I cannot leave him Da'." I must make him understand so he will release my arm!
"I know, but if we are to have any hope of retrieving his bod…" I glare at him, daring him to finish that sentence. He cuts off those words and tries again, "If we are to find him, we must get help. Be reasonable and listen to me!"
I know he is right, but I find it to be the hardest task I've ever undertaken to turn away and leave my elfling behind in that cavern. Yet there is no time to waste, so I drop the rope and run back to alert the rescue crews that they are needed again. On our way, I try to dispel the visions that keep threatening to enter my thoughts. I try not to let the logical part of my brain consider my father's earlier words that we are likely looking for a body. I try not to think of bringing the broken corpse of an only son back to the father who trusted me with his life. I try not to consider my own life without this child who has come to mean more to me than any other. But as hard as I try, these thoughts sneak in, so that by the time we arrive my hands are shaking badly, and my vision is blurred to that point that I wonder if I will be of any use on a rescue mission.
I stop to take a deep breath, and try to orient myself. I have been blindly following my father, and now I realize we are just outside his door, where he quickly sticks his head in to tell mother what we are about. He pales as he steps back and makes a strangled sound in his throat, and then beckons me. He moves back and gestures for me to enter ahead of him into the room.
The first thing I notice is my mother, standing with her eyes and her mouth wide open. Then her mouth moves as if to speak, but not a sound issues from her. It is the first time I have ever seen the daughter of Urhild rendered speechless. I turn to see what is the cause of this wondrous event and when I do, my theory that dwarves never swoon is nearly proven wrong for the second time in one day. I feel the blood drain from my face, and I find I must hold onto the doorframe to remain upright.
It is Legolas. I don't know how, but it is not my imagination for I could never have imagined such a sight. He's covered with dirt and grime from head to toe. Dust coats his hair and clothing, and I can see where his grubby hands have left marks on Mam's furniture. My first thought that she will have something to say about that, seem out of place in this situation.
Even filthy as he is, he is a glorious sight to behold, though I can't quite shake the feeling that I am looking at a ghost. I feel I must have my hands on him to truly believe what I am seeing and without thinking about it, I find myself across the room. I wonder why he looks fearful as he tries to dance out of my reach, but for once I am too fast for him. I wrap both arms around him in a crushing embrace, and then grab him by both shoulders in order to hold him away from me, so I can get a better look.
"I thought you were lost to me, Child! Are ye hurt?" I look him up and down checking for injuries, but he is standing on his feet and trying to wriggle out of my grasp, so he must not be too bad off. I pull him down so that I can kiss the side of his head, and I do not even mind the mouthful of dust I receive for my effort, so happy am I to see him alive.
It is only when I release him and step away that I notice what he is holding in his hands. Barazantathul! He has managed to come out on top in spite of all the dangers that lay in his path.
"No need to wait, Lad," I say gesturing toward Lady Vonild. "Go on. Give it to her."
Legolas goes down on one knee and holds the Great Axe up with both hands, offering it to my mother, "I wish to thank you for opening your home to me, my Lady, and I hope this token will make up for any inconvenience or discomfort my stay here has caused." His words are as fiery coals upon her heart, for her hard exterior seems to melt away, leaving her soft inner core exposed for all to witness.
Tears roll freely down her face, as she reaches out to stroke his cheek, before taking the axe from his hands. "Never have I received such a bonny gift, son of Thranduil. Ye shall be ever welcome in my home and please forgive this old lady her stubborn pride. My son does well to call you axe brother." She bows low and continues, "Thank you, Lad. I shall never forget your bravery and kindness, though I am ashamed that I drove you to go to such dangerous extremes to gain my approval."
Seeing my mother holding the famous Red Axe, I am surprised that I do not feel more excited than I do. When last I saw it, it seemed very grand indeed, and all the years of hearing and telling the tale of it's prowess in battle and how it is the most formidable weapon ever formed by dwarf kind, has perhaps made it seem even more magnificent in my mind. I glance briefly at my mother for permission and then take it from her hands. Turning it over and over, I fail to see the greatness of it. It is large and formidable indeed, but when all is said and done it is really only sharpened metal with a painted red handle. Now it will become a decoration, for all who enter the Gates of Erebor to admire. Another treasured artifact among many, many treasured artifacts. For this thing, Legolas has risked his life. For this wall hanging my elfling was almost lost to me! Does he not consider his life worth more than this… this bit of iron? I feel the ire begin to rise within me and my face becomes hot. The axe rattles in my hands as I turn to glare at him. He cringes as he sees my face.
"It is only an AXE!" I shout waving it in a wild gesture. My father quickly takes Barazantathul from me and wraps it in a blanket, hiding it from view as if he fears I might go pitch it into the deepest ravine in Erebor. A good thing too, for that is exactly what I'd like to do with it, to be quickly followed by one dust covered elvish prince. Never have I been so angry, and my face must be a sight for both Dorbryn and Mother are staring at me with wide-open eyes. As I advance toward Legolas and see him looking nervously about, I hear both feminine voices pleading with me to be reasonable.
"Now, Brother you must calm down!"
"He only did it to please me. I drove him to it!"
"His heart was in the right place."
"All's well that ends well, Gimli."
I barely hear all their well-meant words, for I have one goal in mind. The Lad has earned the walloping of a lifetime and I am about to deliver it, but before I can get to him I run into an obstacle in the form of Lady Vonild. She stands directly in front of me with her feet planted wide apart, and her hands on her hips.
"You must stop immediately. I cannot permit this!"
"Get out of my way, Mam," I say, trying to walk around her, but she will not have it.
She puts both hands on my chest trying to prevent my forward movement and states, "You are too angry. Now sit down and calm yourself!"
My sister seems to agree. "Mother is right, Gimli. You are too angry to deal with him fairly right now." She then turns to Legolas and says, "Don't stand there gaping, Child. Get out of sight!" He is quick to heed her advice and I hear the door to the bedchamber slam behind him.
I allow my mother to lead me to her table where I sit and I accept a mug of amber ale from Dorbryn. I am still furious, but there is no point in fighting the feminine force that has come up against me. I am not ready to give up though. "You cannot protect him forever, Mam. After that stunt he has it coming."
"Aye, I understand," she says patting my arm, "but well do I know your soft heart, my son, and you will regret it something terrible if you deal with him in anger."
She is right of course. On top of being stubborn and willful, she is also kind and wise so I will do well to listen to her advice. Still when I think of the ramifications of what might have happened it is not easy. Never mind, my own grief or that of King Thranduil. Had the princeling died trying to retrieve that axe, the rift between the wood and the mountain would have widened beyond repair. I shudder thinking about it.
Lady Vonild and Lady Dorbryn can be quite charming when they are of a mind to, and soon they have me feeling more myself with their chatter about the gossip that is going about the Grand hall. Next they are asking my opinion on what should be served at the upcoming feast they are planning. My father sits smoking in the background, adding a word or two here and there as well. I light my own pipe and slowly the knot in my gut begins to loosen, and I am much more relaxed. It has been nearly two hours and not a peep from my elfling. I am certain he is suffering from all this waiting so I rise to go to him and end his misery. Still my mother places her hand on my arm.
"You do understand why he did it don't you?" she asks.
"Yes Mother, he wanted to get in your good graces and mend the rift between us." I do understand that he meant well.
"No doubt that is so," she says patting my hand, "but the real reason is because he loves you." Her eyes go to the door of the bedchamber and then back to me, "Remember that my son."
"I will keep it in mind," I say kissing her cheek. I will remember it, yet good intentions do not make up for everything.
XXXXX
"Don't stand there gaping, Child. Get out of sight!"
I do not need a second recommendation and hurry to put some space between myself and my irate guardian.
I stand with my shoulders to the door waiting for Gimli to come after me for I know well what that expression of his forebodes for me and know also that I will not be able to prevent it trapped as I am under the ground. There is nowhere for me to run even if I wished to.
My heart begins to race as I hear Gimli shouting angrily, but it seems Lady Vonild is not the head of the household for nothing for Gimli does not immediately appear in my doorway she having ordered him to sit down and calm himself. I offer up a prayer of relief for that, for facing Gimli in a rage is not something I have any wish to do.
It seems I am to have at least a temporary reprieve and I welcome it for my own mind is racing and I need time to put my thoughts in some kind of order before I have to face the consequences of my actions.
Stepping away from the door I turn and catch a first glimpse of myself in a burnished mirror, I stare in momentary disbelief at the reflection that looks back at me I look truly terrible. My hair, face and clothes are covered in grey dust; my eyes are the only hint of color left in my face. No wonder Lord Gloin thought he was seeing a ghost, when he came in just now and I can see why Lady Dorbryn and Lady Vonild also stared at me in surprise when they first saw me.
I had given no thought to the fact that I would be covered in dust and dirt after the collapse of the bridge so anxious was I to get back to Lady Dorbryn's before my absence was noted. I shake my head and grey ash and dust flies off, coating the floor and surfaces with a fine sheen of particles, that will scarcely endear me to Lady Vonild although that might be the least of my worries presently.
So much is becoming clearer to me now. When I reached Dorbryn's door she had flung it open and then given a cry of surprise before snagging my arm and dragging me off without giving me an opportunity to argue, up the hallway to Gloin's home.
I thought her actions were strange at the time and put it down to the fact that perhaps Lady Vonild had checked up on my whereabouts; found me not where she had supposed me to be, and had ordered her daughter to bring me before her as soon as I did arrive at her door. I expected to be have a real peal rung over me, but like her daughter, Vonild just stood and stared to begin with and then uttered something I had never thought to hear from her.
"Thank Mahal you are safe."
I had scarcely recovered from that shock when the door opened behind me and Lord Gloin looked in. He made this strange strangled sound when he saw me standing there, then looked behind him and beckoned for someone else to enter.
That someone was of course Gimli; he looked even more shocked than his father and grasped the lintel of the doorway as if needing it to keep him upright. If I did not know that dwarves do not faint I would say he looked as if he was about to.
He recovered swiftly however and crossed the room so quickly that I was unable to avoid being clasped in his strong embrace as he cried "I thought you were lost to me, Child! Are ye hurt?"
I did my best to wriggle out of his grasp while assuring him I was fine but it is not until he had planted a kiss on my cheek that I got free.
He then saw the Great Red Axe and I saw his amazement and delight in having it returned, and he told me not to delay but to present it to his mother.
Here at least I got the reaction I was expecting when I retrieved the axe.
I got down on one knee and presented it to Lady Vonild.
"I wish to thank you for opening your home to me, my Lady, and I hope this token will make up for any inconvenience or discomfort my stay here has caused." I said and saw that my words and the gift have had the effect I hoped for, for she reached out to stroke my cheek and I saw she was crying.
"Never have I received such a bonny gift, son of Thranduil. Ye shall be ever welcome in my home and please forgive this old lady her stubborn pride. My son does well to call you axe brother." She replied, "Thank you, Lad. I shall never forget your bravery and kindness, though I am ashamed that I drove you to go to such dangerous extremes to gain my approval."
I was about to say that there was no danger when I heard this low growl behind me and I saw Gimli's darkening expression.
And with that sudden rush of knowledge that comes sometimes, I realized that not only did Gimli know I had retrieved the axe but that he and his father must have gone after me somehow and seen the broken bridge and the rope and had feared that I had fallen into the abyss and been killed.
And it was then that I knew my days on Arda were numbered and the number seems to be rapidly diminishing if the voices in the next room are anything to go by.
I decide to take a chance and wash off the worst of the dust from my face and brush my hair, after that I take a seat on the edge of the bed, my hands clasped tightly in my lap.
There is nothing for me to do except wait … and wait … and wait.
My fear for my future grows over the next two hours and it is with a mix of relief and dread that I finally hear his footsteps approaching and I stand to meet my doom at least on my feet to begin with.
As the door opens I take a deep breath and lift my chin. No one will accuse me of cowardice even in the face of this wrathful dwarf lord.
He does not speak but merely looks at me with those dark eyes of his, eyes that speak more plainly than words of the worry and fear my recent conduct has elicited in him.
"I am very sorry," I manage.
"Are you?"
"I know I should not have done it without gaining your permission."
"Then why did you?"
I drop my gaze to my dusty boots, and I wonder how I can explain without making things worse. Do I tell him that it is because I wanted to make things right between him and his mother, or that I thought it would be a good thing to do to help with relations between the mountain and the wood? Or the real reason, which is that there is nothing I would not do to make him happy whatever it takes and whatever danger it may place me in.
As I hesitate over which answer to give, Gimli takes the decision out of my hands and growls,
"Ye do not have to tell me child, I already know. And while it does not excuse you, I do understand the reasons for what you did. The fact that you have brought back the Great Axe is something that will undoubtedly stand you in good stead when we meet Thorin tomorrow. And just as I prophesized you have managed to win over my Mam."
He then stops and scowls, "though I would have preferred you to have done so in a fashion that did not place you in danger of losing your immortal life." His calm facade breaks a trifle here and he splutters, "You could have died in that shaft … and then … then," his voice cracks, "then what would I do without you?"
This loss of control and his simple plea is what undoes me entirely, and I all but throw myself at him telling him that I am not worth upsetting himself over.
Perhaps that was not very wise I decide as he first shakes me fiercely then swings me around, seats himself on the bed, and hauls me over his lap. Now that the punishment is upon me I wish with all my heart that I was anywhere but in this horribly embarrassing position even knowing that I truly deserve this for the hurt and worry I have caused my friend. Gimli's hand lands with that first jarring swat on my backside and I have to bite my lip to prevent myself from shouting out.
That is something I am determined not to do. I will not humiliate myself by crying out and adding to my present mortification. I do not harbor false hopes that his family in the main room will not know what is taking place, nor that this will undoubtedly lead to their losing any little respect that they may still have for me now that they know I am called to book in what they must know is a childish fashion.
Yet Gimli is as determined and in a far better position than I am to have his way in the matter. My leggings are now peeled down exposing my already red backside and he sets to with a will to break down my remaining barriers by paddling my rear end into submission.
It is the shortest of time before my best of intentions are broken, a whimper escapes and then a sob. Any pride that I might have had in my being able to withhold tears is as easily stripped from me by my indomitable guardian as my leggings just were.
"S… sorry, so sorry!"
"Aye I know," Gimli responds and then surprises me by pulling me up and holding me against his chest, "all done and all is well between us. I feared so, Laddie, when father and I saw the collapsed bridge and the rope. My heart almost stopped. What would I do without you in my life?"
"Spend less time walloping people" I sniffle and he laughs and I drop my head onto his broad shoulder and allow him to comfort me, but even as my eyes drift closed I recall that I will have to face up to Lord Gloin and his family all too soon and I groan.
I recall the collapsed bridge, and the swinging rope and the horror I felt when just a few short hours ago I believed Legolas to be crushed at the bottom of a pit. This was no careless mistake or thoughtless action. To carry out what he has done took some serious scheming and planning and so I continue my task with a clear conscience that I am doing the right thing. Each time my hand falls, great clouds of dust are raised until it is almost as if we are back in the shaft with the falling debris. This does not deter me however, and I continue on with a will to make him see the folly of his actions. Though I have calmed down considerably since earlier, his words that he is not worth getting upset over have raised my ire again. Where does he come up with such foolish ideas? Yet I know that anger can cloud my judgment, just as dust is clouding this room, so at his first 'sorry' I pull him up into my arms. A lump forms in my throat as I say a prayer of thanksgiving that I am not dealing with the other possible outcome for this day. I knew there were only two, and I am thankful that it is this one. It could just have easily ended with me hauling his broken body out of the abyss and the thought nearly overwhelms me. I hold him tighter to me for a moment and try to explain how I felt when I thought him lost.
"What would I do without you in my life?" I implore him.
His breathing is a little hitched as he answers, "Spend less time walloping people." I laugh as he drops his head onto my shoulder.
"Perhaps I might spend less time walloping people if people would spend more time thinking through the possible consequences of their actions," I say, tapping his forehead with one finger. "I could have lost you today, and for a dreadfully trivial reason. Do you not think that I value your life more than any mere weapon, no matter how famous it is?"
His shrugs as his eyes begin to close.
I shake him a little and growl, "Unacceptable answer, Elfling." His eyes open in alarm at the warning in my voice.
"What I meant to say is that of course I know you care for me more than any axe, even if it is legendary. I am not thinking straight, that is all." He looks at me with true remorse, "I am honestly sorry, Elvellon."
"Aye, I can see that you are, Lad." What he says is so; I can see it. There is no doubt he is sorry. Sorry he got caught out and has ended up in his current situation. I am certain he is sorry that my family might be aware of what has taken place between us. He is very sorry indeed that his actions have upset, and worried me so much. But is he sorry he risked his life to retrieve Barazantathul? Somehow I doubt it, and no amount of pounding is going to make him sorry for that so I have no intention of trying. I cannot change his nature, nor do I want to. All I can do is keep everlastingly at it and hope someday he will learn to be more careful with his life and well-being. A dwarf can dream anyway, and I like to think of myself as an optimist.
I continue to stroke the golden head resting against my shoulder as I look around the room. Everything is covered with a fine layer of dust, and I'm sure I do not look any better considering I have spent the better part of this day inside different dusty shafts. I start to tell my elfling that perhaps we had better clean up, when I realize he has fallen asleep. I think of waking him up, but decide against it and instead disentangle his hand from my beard and leave him sleeping on the dusty coverlet. I will go make myself presentable and then come back to work on this room before Mam sees it. It will not endear either of us to her if she's sees the state of her floors and furniture.
As soon as I exit the bedchamber, I notice a chill in the air that wasn't there before and it seems to be coming from the occupants of the main room. Greirr, who I had forgotten about but who has likely been here the whole time, glares at me with a right good will. His brow is furrowed in a fierce scowl and his hard black eyes follow me across the room.
"What is wrong little nephew?" I ask patting his head.
"Mam says we must be nice to guests," he says crossing his arms in a pout, his scowl deepening, "and you are Not. Being. Nice!" He stomps his foot for emphasis. I look to Mother for help only to find she is ignoring my presence with a vengeance. Even Dorbryn looks amused at my discomfort so I only sigh and continue on my way. I take my time refreshing myself for I am in no hurry to enter in among the ravenous wolves that are my mother and my nephew. When I do finally make an appearance, Mam is finished with the silent treatment it seems.
"That child has not eaten since first meal, Gimli. There is no need to keep him imprisoned in that bedchamber!" She scolds. Since when does she think I would starve someone into submission?
"I did not say he must stay in there," I protest, "he is there entirely by his own volition." It is clear she does not believe me. Feeling like a villain, I return to the bedchamber to flush Legolas out so my family can see I have not damaged him.
When I enter I see he has changed clothes and his hair is still wet from a recent wash, and he is just finishing cleaning the room as well. I help him find clean linen and we change the bed, leaving the dirty sheets and blankets in a pile in the corner of the room. I then begin the arduous process of coaxing him out of the privacy of the bedchamber. I wheedle and sweet talk, and even bribe, promising all will be well. When that doesn't work, I resort to practically begging.
" Please come Lad, Mother wants to see you." I plead.
"I would rather stay in here, if you don't mind." My methods of persuasion do not seem to be working so I change tactics.
"I do mind," I inform him, "you will come out without arguing any further." I take his arm to assist him in leaving, but he plants his feet firmly and pulls out of my grasp.
"Please don't make me Gimli," he entreats me, "it is too embarrassing."
But I will not lose this argument. "Perhaps you should have thought of that when you were planning your day this morning, Elfling!" I send him toward the door with a smart swat to his already tender backside, which elicits a yelp and an offended glare. Too late I think to hope that no one in the next room has heard this altercation
.
Legolas' appearance causes quite a sensation. If I didn't know better, I might think he was a beloved warrior son returning from battle. First Greirr runs to him, wrapping his small arms around the elf's slim waist. When Dorbryn finally frees him from her son, Lady Vonild is quick to offer him the most comfortable chair in the room. It is too short for him, of course, but is plenty wide enough that he can easily fold his long legs up under him in the seat. I guess it is acceptable for him to have his precious feet on the furniture, even though I recall many times getting cuffed in the back of the head for that same action in my youth! It is really rather ridiculous how she coos over him and plies him first with food and then with molasses taffy she has made herself while we were both busy earlier.
Greirr has climbed into Legolas' lap and begun with a bit of charcoal a drawing of his 'guest from outside' holding the Red Axe. It is his intention to add it as a final chapter to his other 'Barazantathul book." In spite of the animosity I still feel from Greirr, I cannot help smiling at this image of my elfling with my nephew cuddled in his lap. I store it away as a reminder of this special time when good relations between our folk began to be restored. Our talk turns to our meeting with the King, and I mention my earlier intent to leave shortly after that. This really gets my mother's dander up!
"You must not leave so soon," she insists. "After all that Legolas has done to return Barazantathul to us, he deserves to be here to see it set in its place of honor and to be at the feast that will no doubt follow."
My mother obviously feels we should throw a festival for the Lad for almost killing himself. Somehow that does not sound like a good idea for encouraging good behavior, so I voice my dissent. "For what he has done he deserves to be fit for a leading string that should be securely attached to my belt, until I can return him to his escort along with a full report for King Thranduil." He looks thoroughly horrified, so I relent just a little, "I am in jest Lad, but you are not to be out of my sight again even for a moment until I am able to return you back home. I will be sleeping on your floor this night." Again my mother offers her so welcomed support.
"How can he possibly enjoy his stay here, tethered to your side so?" she argues. "I am sure a Lad so full of energy does not want to spend his time watching you drink bitter and spin yarns with a bunch of boring old codgers."
I have no hope at winning this so I give in, though not entirely, "He will stay in my sight, Mother, for I have made a vow to his father, but I promise he may do whatever he desires. I will follow him wherever he wants to go." Evidently this is acceptable for she smiles and pats his hand before I add, "Within reason that is." My mother and my elfling share a look, and I can see he would like to roll his eyes, but knows he is on too thin of ice to indulge in that. My mother, however, having no such reservations, goes ahead and rolls hers.
"You can be such a spoil sport sometimes, Gimli."
I am considering going back to Eryn Lasgalen to live where I am more appreciated.