Summary: none given.
* * *
Part One: Learning�
Legolas was unaccustomed to being particularly
bad at anything, but after two years and no improvement, he was forced
to admit that he would never be a smith.� The new sword in his
hand, for all his effort, possessed the grace and artistry of a loaf
of bread.� The finish was dull, the edges managed to be both too
thin and too blunt at the same time, and the tip curved like a drooping
fern.�
"It's a start," his teacher
told him with a sharp clap to the back.� Then, after a pause, "Ehm,
how long have you been here, now?"�
Legolas did not answer.�
"What if we start on something new.�
Something a bit less... ambitious.� Swords can be tricky.�
Why don't you try a shield?"�
Yes, Legolas thought dully, a shield.�
Shields did not have to be sharp, straight-edged, or even symmetrical.�
They only needed to be flat.� He could manage flat, more or less.�
"Fine," he said.�
"That's a boy," said the teacher.�
"Go on back to the draft table and plan your design.� I'll
take this off your hands."� He took the failed sword delicately,
as if it were liable to break at any moment, and set it aside to be
reworked later.� Legolas, thinking no more on it, sat down at the
drafting table and began to draw the simplest design he could imagine.�
His shield would be egg-shaped, for the
practical reason that, when it inevitably came out lopsided, he would
be able to insist that it was intentional.� It would have crimped
edges, to hide any sloppy finishing.� And it would be etched all
over in designs of knotwork and vines, to draw attention away from the
shame of never being able to produce a smooth surface.� Etched
designs were one thing he could do relatively well.� Not perfectly,
but at least on par with an average Noldorin twenty-year-old.�
He would make the shield out of copper.� He had grown fond of copper,
as far as he could grow fond of a substance that tormented him in an
environment he hated; it complimented his hair nicely.�
He finished the design, sought his teacher
for approval, and began work the next morning.�
Nearly twenty days later, he was no closer
to creating a useable shield than he was to learning all the secrets
of the universe.� As predicted, the shield was lopsided, but in
a way that more resembled a fried egg than one in its shell.� While
the middle was too thick, he had pounded the edges so thin that contact
with a falling acorn would likely cause a sizeable dent.� The overall
craftsmanship was of such a quality that Legolas was beginning to wonder
if he was, in fact, getting worse.� His efforts were nothing if
not pathetic.� Worse still, the master smith was quickly losing
patience.�
"Look here, Legolas," he said
sadly at the end of the day.� On the table before him, he had placed
the terrible sword, the useless shield, and a number of other failed
projects, including a bowl with a hole in the bottom, a spoon with an
impractically short handle, and a shovel too heavy to use.� "Look
at your work and tell me what you see."�
Legolas looked at his work, but did not
dare say what he thought for fear of being thrown out of the forge for
good.�
His teacher eyed him carefully.�
"Are you certain that smithwork is what you desire?"�
Legolas nodded.�
"Absolutely certain?"�
"Yes," said Legolas.�
The master smith's face fell.� "Then
I am afraid I can no longer help you," he said.�� And
before Legolas had a chance to respond, he continued, "You are
beyond my skill to teach.� I have never before, in countless years,
had a student make so little progress over so long a period of time.�
I can only guess that this is a reflection of my poor teaching ability.�
I am sorry, Legolas, but you must leave."�
For an uncomfortable moment, Legolas
only stared at his soon-to-be-former teacher.� "But..."
he eventually managed, "where will I go?"�
~�
He never told anyone exactly why it was
so important for him to learn the elusive skill of metalcrafting.�
Conveniently, no-one had ever asked.� His friends and family tolerated
the obsession with amused sighs and an attitude of 'this silly phase
will pass', attributing his stubborn interest to being surrounded by
so many Noldor.� He had lived almost his entire life among the
Elves of Mirkwood, who were such notoriously poor smiths that they were
willing to put aside cultural differences every now and then to trade
with Dwarves rather than learn how to set an anvil the right way up.�
And that was saying something.� But being now in Tavrobel, it was
only natural for Legolas to be curious about the smoke, ringing noise,
and occasional explosions coming from the Noldorin quarter of the city.�
The man who had agreed to take Legolas
as a student was named Matyelcar.� For a smith, he was remarkably
tall and thin, and between his dark hair, soot-blackened skin, and gangly
walk, he reminded Legolas rather unpleasantly of a spider.� This
was one of the reasons Legolas gave for his failure.� His vigilant
Mirkwood upbringing refused to allow him to relax and concentrate while
a giant spider (or something eerily similar thereto) lurked in the shadows.�
And while he was confident that Matyelcar did not have eight legs, he
had not yet ruled out the possibility of web spinning.� The master
smith was very gifted when it came to decorative filament.�
So he was not wholly disappointed when
Matyelcar told him to leave the forge and seek instruction elsewhere.�
But he was wary when Matyelcar offered to accompany him to the one teacher
who could surely teach, in the one place where Legolas could surely
learn.� Working the bellows with a giant spider was one thing.�
Following one on a journey was completely different.�
"Over this way!" Matyelcar
called to Legolas, who kept lagging behind.� "We take the
northern fork, then the next west, and we'll camp at the bottom of the
ridge tonight!"�
They had crossed the strait from Tol
Eress�a to the mainland that morning, and were now headed in no particular
direction that Legolas could discern.� Supposedly, they were going
to the mountains.�
"Where exactly is this place?"
asked Legolas. �
"At the roots of the Pel�ri, on
the other side of the Calacirya.� Past Tirion and almost to Valmar.�
We'll be there in five days."�
At this point, he knew he should not
have asked.� Matyelcar was far too optimistic.� If he said
five days, he meant eight.� And so it was nine days later that
they finally reached their destination.�
On a first glance, it appeared to be
nothing more than a large doorway stuck into the side of a mountain.�
This was nothing new to Legolas.� He had seen similar doors made
by Dwarves, though he did have to admit that this door was rather larger
than that of the average Dwarf construction.� In fact, it was easily
of sufficient size for an acrobatic square of Dwarves seven tall and
six wide to comfortably pass.� It was enough for Legolas to momentarily
worry that Dwarves here were much larger than they were in the east.
Until he remembered that there were no Dwarves in Aman.�
"Come on, come on, this is the place."�
Matyelcar pushed the doors open, as comfortably as if this were his
home and he were merely inviting Legolas in for supper.�
Legolas could see, then, that the doors
opened into a vast stone tunnel that was surprisingly well lit for its
absence of windows.� No-one was about to greet them.� "Oughtn't
we have knocked?" he asked.�
"No, my lord is expecting us.�
Just follow me.� I know the way.� Oh, but mind you don't touch
the walls."� Matyelcar added the last in a casually offhand
manner, though something about his words (possibly the fact that he
felt it necessary to say them at all) put Legolas on edge.� The
walls looked completely innocent.� Nonetheless, he stepped closer
behind Matyelcar, and did his best to remain in the exact middle of
the corridor.�
The tunnel was longer than it looked,
and the further they walked, the more Legolas was convinced that they
were making no progress at all.� The stairs ahead were no nearer.�
The door behind seemed as close as ever.� The only thing that changed
was the ceiling.� It had started off at door height, seven Dwarves
tall, but was growing progressively lower.� It dropped to four-Dwarf-height,
then three, and then two, at which point Legolas started to slouch.�
If he was not allowed to touch the walls, he had no desire to risk bumping
his head on the ceiling.�
"Mind your head," said Matyelcar,
which only annoyed Legolas.� He had been clever enough to think
of minding his head on his own.�
By the time the ceiling had fallen to
the height of one Dwarf, Legolas and his former teacher were crawling
on their hands and knees.� Not only had the tunnel become very
shallow, it had also become far narrower.� The walls had angled
inward to less than an arm's length away on either side.� What
was more, they appeared to be covered in some sort of glittering powder.�
"What's this on the walls?"
Legolas called ahead.�
"I've never asked," said Matyelcar,
though his tone of voice indicated exactly the opposite.� "Just
don't touch it."�
"Why not?� What will happen?"�
Matyelcar stopped, and turned his head
as much as he could to glance back at Legolas.� "You'll see."�
His words made Legolas' skin crawl unpleasantly.�
"What do you mean?"�
"Oh, you're bound to accidentally
brush against it sooner or later.� I would just prefer later."�
"What do you mean, 'sooner or later'?"
Legolas asked irritably.� "I'm not that uncoordinated."�
"Everyone does on the first time
through here," Matyelcar said.� "And then never again."�
"The first...?"�
"Once is enough.� You'll not
want to repeat the experience."�
Growling, Legolas crouched down even
lower to the floor, determined to stay on course and prove to Matyelcar
that he could at least crawl through a tunnel properly.� If life
in Mirkwood had given him anything, it was an intimate familiarity with
tunnels and caves.� Though to be fair, there had been nothing this
ridiculously small in his father's fortress.� No sooner had he
set his mind against grazing so much as a hair against the surrounding
stone than the walls and ceiling had seemed to close in around him.�
He was surrounded on all sides with mere inches of clearance.�
"How much more of this nonsense?"
he snapped at Matyelcar.�
"Nearly there.� I can see the
light ahead."�
"Where?"�
Legolas realised what he was about to
do in the split second before it happened.� He had raised his eyes
to look to the light, and had just enough time to swear loudly before
the top of his head bumped against the ceiling.� The floor lurched
under him, his left side became very heavy, and his head suddenly felt
as if it had been pulled off, tossed into a cyclone, and set back on
the wrong way.� He tipped one way, crashed into the wall, fell
back the other way, lost his balance completely, and toppled forward
onto his face.� "Matyelcar!" he shouted in panic.�
"Matyelcar, I can't... I can't..."�
"Just grab my ankles," Matyelcar
said calmly.�
Legolas pulled his arms out from under
him to fumble around wildly on the floor, looking for Matyelcar's ankles.�
Unfortunately, the floor seemed to have other ideas, and tipped him
backward with such force that he cracked his head once again on the
ceiling.�
"Keep you hands in front of you,
Legolas, and feel for my ankles.� Maintain contact with the floor."�
"I can't!� It keeps shifting!"�
Even as he spoke, the tunnel gave a great leap to one side, and Legolas
found himself rather suddenly on his back.� His head was still
spinning.�
"It only feels that way.� Hands
on the floor.� I'm right in front of you.� Trust me."�
Had Legolas been able to keep his balance
long enough, he would have given Matyelcar a sound kick in the ribs.�
He knew better than to trust oversized spiders.� However, he had
no other option.� He needed to get out of the wretched tunnel before
his head burst.� Focusing all his willpower in his hands, he slid
them along the floor, inch by inch.� His right hand seemed to have
a life of its own, veering off sideways, but the left hit something
solid.� �
"Good, that's one of my feet.�
Now your other hand."�
With a considerable effort, Legolas wrenched
his right hand in to meet the left and find Matyelcar's other ankle.�
He squeezed as hard as he could, though it did little to vent his frustration.�
"Good.� Very good.� Keep
holding on like that, and try your best to crawl behind me."�
Matyelcar began to move: one leg forward,
the other leg forward, dragging Legolas behind.� Legolas tried
to crawl along, or at least shuffle, but as soon as he pulled his legs
into position they would tip him the wrong way, causing him to collapse
against the walls.�
"Follow me, Legolas.� Concentrate
on following me."�
This he did, and promptly pitched forward
to head-butt Matyelcar in the rump.� �
The last thing Legolas remembered was
Matyelcar shouting something crude as he stumbled sideways and hit the
wall.�
~�
How much time passed before Legolas woke,
he could not say.� He was lying somewhere soft, covered in warm
blankets, and he was still dizzy.� Less dizzy than he had been
in the tunnel, but his stomach had started to churn in a nauseating
way, so he had not drastically improved on the whole.� He only
opened his eyes when he realised someone was trying to get him to drink
something hot.�
"You'd better drink this.�
All of it.� All that flailing in the tunnel will have done your
body grief."�
'Matyelcar?"�
"Yes, it's I.� Drink this."�
"Where are we?� What happened
in... What was that?!"�
"If you stop talking long enough
to take your medicine, I can tell you."�
Legolas sat up and took the cup from
Matyelcar.� The medicine tasted of spiced honey, but with unpleasant
undertones of lake water.� The more he drank, the lakier it tasted.�
"To your first question, we are
in the home of the great Lord Aul�, the Master Smith of all Arda, and
you are in your new bedroom."�
Legolas nearly dropped his cup.�
Matyelcar had brought him to the forge of the greatest smith in the
world and the training ground for the brightest and most talented.�
He was sure to be thrown out immediately. He stared at his former teacher
in horror, looking for any sign of a joke, but Matyelcar appeared to
be entirely serious.� His stomach began to churn in a way that
had nothing to do with dizziness.�
"Secondly and thirdly, as to what
happened in the tunnel and what 'that' was...� When you bumped
your head, you acquainted yourself with the enchantment that guards
this place from unwanted intruders.� Anyone who touches the walls
or ceiling will immediately find himself too dizzy and disoriented to
continue, and will thrash about helplessly until collected by the sentries."�
"Like the river..." Legolas
muttered.�
"Pardon?"�
"Nothing," said Legolas.�
"But you said... everyone touches the walls his first time through."�
"Yes, that's true," said Matyelcar.�
"I'm surprised you managed to get as far as you did.� Eventually,
had you not brushed the walls on your own, they would have continued
to close in until they touched you, while remaining just wide enough
for me to pass carefully.� But, they only do this to those they
don't recognise.� Your second time will be much more comfortable."�
Legolas silently finished the rest of
his medicine.� It left a gritty orange residue in the cup.�
"How come you don't look ill?� You hit the wall, too."�
"I was given the medicine immediately
by those who fetched us from the tunnel.� But we thought it might
be a good idea for you to have a bit of a sleep first.� Do you
feel better now?"�
"I suppose."� The medicine
helped with the dizziness, at least, though it did nothing to calm his
stomach.� "So if this is the home of Owly, or how's-he-called-"�
"Aul�."�
"Yes, him.� If this is the
home of Aul�," Legolas asked, "where is he?"�
"Right here," said Matyelcar.�
He stepped aside and gestured to the back of the room.�
In all his life, Legolas had never before
met a Vala.� Maiar, yes, in the forms of Gandalf and Saruman, but
never a Vala.� Now to see Aul� step out of the corner and grin
at him, he was, to be honest, underwhelmed.�
Aul� looked like a common Noldorin smith.�
He was neither particularly tall nor particularly impressive to look
at, both of which were features Legolas would have expected in a Vala.�
His black hair was tied back haphazardly, looking as if he had been
sleeping on it for several nights.� He had a wide smudge of dirt
across his chin, and his clothes were charred in several places.�
As he stepped forward, he extended a callused hand to Legolas, which
Legolas shook absently.� Everything was too disturbingly surreal.�
"Legolas, this is Aul�.� Aul�,
naryo Laiqualass�. I'll have to act as translator, Legolas; I'm afraid
Aul� doesn't speak your language."�
"Yes, I do," said Aul�.�
He had a deep, booming, Vala-like voice that was entirely at odds with
his humble appearance.�
Matyelcar, clearly taken aback, could
only gape.�
"I am a Vala," Aul� explained.�
"I can do most anything."� As if to prove his point,
he snapped his fingers and set his hair on fire.�
"Oh," said Matyelcar.�
"I never thought of that...�� Right.� As I was saying
before, my lord, young Legolas has come here to learn the fine art of
metalcrafting.� I have taught him all I can, and I believe that
the only way for him to progress is by way of your unmatchable expertise."�
Aul� nodded.� "I know."�
Again, Matyelcar gaped.� "I
suppose... Yes.� Vala.� Right. "� He cleared his
throat.� "Well then... if there's nothing more for me to do..."�
He squirmed with the distinct look of a man who desired nothing so much
as to leave the room immediately.�
Legolas knew exactly how Matyelcar felt.�
He desired the exact same thing.� He knew beyond the slightest
sliver of a doubt that he had been an idiot to come here, a feeling
only made worse when he remembered that it had not been his idea at
all.� Even after spiders, orcs, wargs, and everything else, Aul�
was easily the most frightening thing he had ever encountered.�
Something about the Vala's unassuming appearance coupled with his careless
use of power made Legolas wish like never before that he were back in
Mirkwood, where everything behaved in a completely normal and predictable
manner and nobody even knew what an Aul� was or how to pronounce it.�
He was profoundly sorry he had thought
to become a smith, and sorrier still when Matyelcar left in a fluster
of excuses and farewells.� The last thing he wanted was to be alone
with Aul�.� But alone they were.� Aul� turned to him with
a smile.�
"Fire," whispered Legolas.�
He had not meant to say this, or anything at all for that matter, but
he found it impossible to tear his eyes away from the Vala's burning
hair.�
'Oh, I'm sorry," said Aul�.�
With a shake of his head, the flames disappeared and his hair returned
to normal.� He laughed a booming laugh that threatened to shake
the foundations of the room.� "I forget about that sometimes."�
Legolas could only manage a weak smile,
and only for a moment.� Aul� watched him expectantly, and when
he did not move, the Vala picked him up by his shoulders, pulled him
out of the bed, and set him back down on the floor like a piece of furniture.�
"Better.� Can't get work done
in bed, can you?"� Aul� stared at him, waiting for an answer,
and Legolas forced his mouth to form the words, "No, sir."�
"Wonderful," said Aul�.�
"We start immediately."�
~ �
The last thing Legolas wanted to do with
a spinning head and twisting stomach was head to the loud, smelly forges,
but Aul� seemed to think there was no time like the present.�
He steered Legolas through his maze of a home, pointing every so often
to side corridors or closed doors with a quick, "Never go that
way," or, "Toilets are over there."� They seemed
to be walking in large circles, but to Aul�'s credit, the unmistakable
sound of hammers on metal was growing louder.� By the time they
finally stepped into the smithy, Legolas was so disoriented that he
was certain he would never again be able to find any of the places Aul�
mentioned.� Nor would he ever find the way out.� The Vala
had not shown him that, he quickly realised.�
"And where is the exit?" he
quietly asked, in a voice he hoped sounded casual enough.�
"Later," said Aul�.�
"Now, we work, and learn.� Learn, and work.� Always learn.�
Always work."� He thrust a sword into Legolas' hands: one
that looked uncannily like the shoddy blade he had produced for Matyelcar.�
"Ehmmm... what... what do I..."�
"Fix it," Aul� said simply.�
Scowling, Legolas set the sword down
on the anvil and picked up a nearby hammer.�
"No!" Aul� shouted at once.�
"Not like that!"� He grabbed Legolas' wrist, twisted
his hand slightly, and adjusted the grip on the hammer.� "How
can you expect to work when you can't hold your tools?� Hand goes
like this.� Always like this.� Now try."�
Legolas lifted his arm and brought the
hammer down in a half-hearted swing.� But it connected solidly
with the blade, producing a clear, silvery ringing sound, and the crooked
metal moved to correct itself immediately.� Not daring to believe
what he had just done and seen, Legolas swung again.� His hammer
hit the middle of the sword, and it was suddenly almost straight.�
He looked up at Aul� in wonder.� "But... how is that even
possible?!"�
"Vala," was all that Aul�
said.�
Legolas kept hammering.� Before
his eyes, the sword started to look distinctly like a sword.� It
was straighter, sharper, shinier, and better-looking on the whole.�
"Excellent, excellent," said Aul�.� He took the improved
sword from Legolas, and laid another poor effort on the anvil.�
"Now this one.� And after this, you can start on those."�
He gestured to a nearby table, on which stood a pile of improperly made
swords.� Fleetingly, Legolas wondered if this was where all the
failed metalworking projects in the world ended up.� He could see
a pile of misshapen helmets on another nearby table, and a shelf of
what looked like lumpy pots.�
"Is this," he started to ask,
but stopped as soon as the words left his mouth.� Aul� had disappeared.�
Sighing, and telling himself that Valar could not be expected to behave
like reasonable Elves due to the fact that they were not at all like
Elves, he took up the hammer again and went back to work.�
Fixing the swords was not as easy as
it had first seemed to Legolas once he was left alone.� Whether
it was luck or, more likely, a powerful aura radiating from Aul� that
had helped him on the first, he could not say.� And while he was
still fixing the sword rather than making it worse, which was a vast
improvement over the skills he had displayed to Matyelcar, it still
required immense effort and concentration.� The second sword took
hours rather than minutes to finish.� He had to sit down for a
rest before taking up a third.�
Aul�'s workshop was, as far as he could
see from his allotted space, a vast cave full of fires, anvils, kilns,
tables, projects, and apprentice smiths of all kinds.� It was much
longer than it was wide, and had been divided lengthwise into halves
by twin rows of pillars straight down the centre.� Some sort of
screen, like fine cheesecloth, had been hung between the pillars as
a barrier.� Legolas could only make out the blurred shapes of other
workers on beyond.� He could see no opening to pass between the
pillars to the other side of the room.�
On both sides, everyone seemed busy at
work, too absorbed in smelting, casting, hammering, and fuelling the
fires to pay Legolas any attention.� He picked up a third sword,
grumbling to himself about wastes of time, and sincerely hoped that
Aul� didn't mean for him to finish the whole pile on his own.�
But after nearly sixty days, he was still
mending useless blades.� Worse, Aul� was nearly impossible to
find, and even more difficult to question.� His Unremarkable Noldorin
aspect was unnerving enough.� But when Legolas realised that Aul�
could change his form at will, which would account for what Legolas
took to be long absences when the Unremarkable Noldo was nowhere to
be found, it made things even more disturbing.� The very large,
hairy man at the corner table, it turned out, was Aul�.� The distractingly
attractive white-robed prince was Aul�.� The yellow dog was Aul�
(though he only appeared in this form after quarrels with Yavanna).�
The hot, glittery cloud was Aul�.� The terrifying red monster
with six axe-wielding arms was also probably Aul�, though Legolas had
never quite found the courage to ask.�
"And that makes one-hundred-ninety-two,"
Legolas said dully to himself as he tossed another fixed sword into
the 'finished' pile.� The 'needs work' pile looked no smaller than
it did on the day he arrived.� He glanced around for any sign of
Aul�, desperate for a chance to ask when he would be done with the
sword pile, but saw only the red monster lumbering away at the far end
of the room.� "Fiery blasted rock-headed filth and orc bugger!"
he hissed to nobody in particular.�
"Yes, I know how you feel,"
said a voice behind him.� A voice with an accent that sounded slightly
Rivendellish, but still a Sindarin-speaking voice.� And those were
rare enough west of Tol Eress�a.�
Legolas spun around.� A cheerful-looking
Noldo stood behind him, holding an armful of dented helmets.� "Excuse
me?"�
"I said I know how you feel,"
the Noldo repeated.� "I often find myself swearing in this
place.� In fact, just yesterday I said a horrible word that I didn't
even know existed.� I think it's something in the air."�
"Oh," said Legolas.� "Uh..."�
He was at a loss for anything better to say.�
"My name is Gilfanon," said
the Noldo.� He did not hold out his hand, given that his arms were
full of helmets, but he did nod in a friendly way.� "What's
yours?� I don't believe I've seen you before.� You new?"�
"Yes.� I'm Legolas.� And
I don't mean to pry, but are you from Imladris?"�
Gilfanon shook his head.� "No.�
I was born in Tirion, but lived awhile in Nevrast and Gondolin, and
most recently I reside in Tavrobel.� When I am not here."�
"I just came from Tavrobel."�
"Oh!� Well how nice is that!�
You know, I-"� Gilfanon stopped abruptly mid-sentence, shutting
his mouth and staring with widened eyes at the pillars behind Legolas.�
"Look!" he whispered.� "A new one!"�
Legolas turned back around in time to
see two men step through a door at the near end of the room, between
the two rows of pillars.� Through one layer of screen, Legolas
could see that the first was dark and Noldorin-looking, while the second
was a tall, silver-haired Sinda.� "A new what?" he asked
Gilfanon.�
"New student.� All newcomers
to Aul�'s forge come in through the pillars."�
"I didn't," said Legolas.�
"I came through a-"�
"Just watch," Gilfanon told
him.� "You'll understand."�
The pair beyond the screen walked half
the length of the room until they came to a spot just past where Legolas
and Gilfanon were standing.� Then, something very odd happened.�
They continued to walk, but did not move.� Legolas could see the
steps they took, but for whatever reason, they stayed in the very same
place.� They walked on the spot for several minutes, and then the
taller one, the Sinda, started to duck.� Both were soon bent over
nearly double.� They continued to shuffle along for another minute
before touching the floor and crawling on hands and knees.� Something
clicked into place in Legolas' mind.�
"The tunnel!" he said.�
"It's..."�
"Part of the enchantment,"
Gilfanon confirmed.� "To anyone inside the pillar rows, it
will seem as if they are in a tunnel.� But we on the other side
can watch whoever enters.� Keep your eyes on the Sinda now; the
best part is still to come."�
Legolas held his breath as he waited
for what was about to happen.� And sure enough, a moment later
the Sinda reached up to brush his hair back. His elbow must have touched
the wall, because in the next second he was wobbling and falling over
like an orc with its head cut off.� Only after several minutes
and much laughter from those watching did the Sinda manage to grasp
his companion's ankles to continue dizzily forward.� From that
point, they started to move again in a slow crawl toward the far end
of the room.�
"What is that?� What makes
you so dizzy?"�
"It's the dust," said Gilfanon.�
"The what?"�
"Noldorin Confusion Dust.�
It's brushed liberally over the walls and ceiling.� Originally,
Aul� just enchanted the tunnel to grow narrow so that intruders got
stuck.� But he found that the ill-meaning ones were difficult for
his sentries to subdue.� So the Noldor invented Confusion Dust,
which makes intruders quite manageable.� And more hilarious besides."�
He paused before adding, "Valar have an odd sense of humour.�
They seem to find nothing funnier than Elves floundering about within
the limitations of their physicality."�
"Did I look that stupid?" �
"I don't remember seeing you,"
said Gilfanon.� "But the odds are good."�
~�
Two days later, Legolas saw the Sindarin
man again.� This time, he was following Aul� through the workshop.�
Aul� was wearing his Unremarkable Noldorin aspect again.� The
two seemed to be heading toward Legolas' anvil.� "Seeing as
you two are both new," Aul� said as he approached, "you can
work together."�
The Sinda glanced around with the least
amount of interest possible and said nothing.� He was wearing what
looked like Valarin pajamas, and had put a jaunty hawthorn sprig behind
his ear.�
"Legolas," said Aul�, "this
is Elw�.� He has recently been released from Mandos, and was sent
here for a brief probation before he is fit to rejoin the living world.�
Elw�, Legolas arrived not long ago and has been making excellent progress
on fixing faulty swords.� He can show you what to do."�
Legolas stared at the man in front of
him.� "Elw�?!" he asked.� "As in Elu, as in
Thingol?!"�
"You may call me 'sir' or 'your
highness'," Elw� said dismissively.�
"Splendid!" said Aul�.�
"I'll leave you two here!"�
Legolas would have protested, but he
was too busy staring at the former king of Doriath with a mixture of
awe and annoyance to notice that Aul� had disappeared again.�
By the time he looked away, the Vala was gone.� "Well I guess
it's just you and I, Elu."�
Elu sniffed.� "What are we
supposed to do here, exactly?"�
"We're fixing swords, Elu."�
"How?"�
"With hammers, Elu."�
"I thought I only gave you permission
to call me-"�
"Aul� said I'm in charge, Elu."�
Growling, Elu stood up as straight as
he could to his full, impressive height.� "I prefer to be
addressed formally.� Or at least as 'Thingol'."�
Legolas shrugged and suppressed a grin.�
"Whatever you say, Elu."�
The king stood beside the anvil and moped
for the rest of the day.�
The next morning, however, he was in
far better spirits.� So much better, in fact, that Legolas secretly
wondered if Aul� had drugged him.�
"I say, this is actually quite fun!"
Elu told Legolas as he hammered away at a crooked longsword.� "Really
lets you free your frustrations, doesn't it?"�
Legolas refrained from pointing out that
most of his frustrations of late were caused by hammering swords, not
freed by it.�
"I think I'm getting the hang of
it.� I don't know why I didn't think to try this sooner.�
Would have really helped toward the end, you know.� Why, if I'd
have tried my hand at smithery back in the day, that business with the
Nauglamir might have gone differently!� I might not have died!�
But then I wouldn't be here now.� And I wouldn't know how enjoyable
this can be, and I never would have wished I'd done it long ago.�
Hmm, perplexing."�
"You probably would have been killed
by the Sons of Feanor," said Legolas.�
"Oh right," said Elu.�
"That would have been messy.� Though do you suppose I might
have made myself a fine sword like this one here;" he swung the
blade up dangerously close to Legolas' ear before slamming it back down;
"and defeated them all single-handedly?"�
"Unlikely.� You'd need to have
been a better swordsman than Maedhros, who knocked off half your royal
guard from what I hear.� Single-handedly."�
"True," Elu admitted.�
"I'd have to go back further in time and learn to be an amazing
swordsman.� Do you suppose that if I'd had a reputation as an amazing
swordsman, that would have prevented Doriath from being invaded?"�
Legolas did not answer.� This had
no impact on Elu's talkativeness whatsoever.�
"Where are you from, anyhow, Legolas?"�
"I am a prince of Eryn Lasgalen."�
"Never heard of it.� Who was
your father?"�
"His name is Thranduil."�
"Never heard of him.� Grandfather?"�
"Oropher."�
Elu frowned.� "No, doesn't
ring a bell.� Are you sure you're a prince?� You don't seem
to be related to anybody important."�
"Elu, you're hammering the sword
too much.� Now it's gone concave."�
Between the two of them, Legolas and
Elu managed to finish only two swords that day.�
The next day was hardly better.�
For an excess of talking and dearth of working, Elu actually managed
to make one blade worse.� Legolas had to take it away before he
broke it clear in half.� The day after, Legolas wisely made Elu
supervise.� He could talk and supervise at the same time.�
Most of the talking happened to be on his favourite topic: himself.�
"Now," he told Legolas in a
way that indicated he was about to divulge a great secret, "the
reason I am here is because the fellow from Mandos, N�mo or however
he's called, thinks I have a bad attitude toward Dwarves and Goldin...
or Noldor, as I suppose they're called here.� Can you imagine?�
He suggested that spending some time in the traditional role of those
types might improve my understanding.� Of course, hammering and
making noise is all fine and good.� But would you really want to
put yourself in the place of a Dwarf?� I just can't fathom.�
A Dwarf!� Really."�
"One of my closest friends was a
Dwarf," Legolas said irritably.�
"Really?� A friendly Dwarf?"�
"Yes.� His name was Gimli.�
You wouldn't have liked him.� He was too short and bearded for
your taste."�
"That does sound Dwarvish,"
said Elu.� "When you say he was your friend, what do you mean
happened to him?� Did you have a falling out?"�
Again, Legolas did not answer.�
Again, this had no impact on Elu's talkativeness.�
"I don't think I could ever be a
friend to a Dwarf.� After all, they did kill me, and that was a
nasty experience, let me tell you.� You'd think they'd keep those
little knives of theirs sharper.� Of course I didn't think they
were actually going to do it!� You know, when someone whose head
is as high as your navel threatens to kill you, it's very difficult
to take him seriously.� I kept wanting to pinch his nose.�
Dwarves have rather bulbous noses, have you noticed?� I did that
once, and you wouldn't believe the outrage it caused.� Just for
tweaking a Dwarf's nose!� You'd think I'd stripped him naked and
painted him blue for the fuss he made.� Those Dwarves have no sense
of fun.� They bang and hammer in their little workshops all day,
but don't know how to enjoy themselves.� Frankly, I find it baffling.�
No wonder they're not allowed out here.� Their dour Dwarvishness
would bring down the whole atmosphere."�
Legolas had finally had enough.�
He slammed the hammer down, knocking his sword to the floor, and glared
at Elu.� As long as he had lived, he could not recall any person
who had better annoyed him, insulted him, or driven him to such loathing.�
"Elu," he hissed, "if one more ignorant word comes out
of your thoughtless head, I swear by the stars I'll-"�
He never managed to finish the sentence.�
A searing breeze had suddenly come up behind, and that could only mean
one thing.� Aul� had donned his Hot Cloud aspect.�
Elu, who was unaccustomed to being spoken
to in such a manner, narrowed his eyes contemptuously at Legolas.�
"You'll what?"�
"I'll tell Aul� what you think
about Dwarves."�
"Ha!" Elu laughed.� "What
I think about Dwarves?� Why should he care?"�
"Aul�," Legolas said clearly
to the hot cloud hovering overhead, "would you mind telling Elu
what you know about Dwarves?"�
The cloud cooled, solidified, and compacted
itself into the shape of an Unremarkable Noldo.� "I know everything
about Dwarves," he said.� "After all, I did invent them."�
For the rest of the day and the two following,
Elu was uncharacteristically quiet, courteous, and helpful.� And
for the first time since his arrival, Legolas began to notice that the
pile of poorly-made swords was getting smaller.�
"Lucky," muttered Gilfanon
as he staggered by under the weight of another armful of helmets.�
He was partnered with somebody called Findor, and both were convinced
that their workload was only increasing.�
"Have you noticed," Elu said
to Legolas at the start of one day, "that the pile of swords is
always larger in the morning than when we leave it at night?"�
"I had noticed, yes," said
Legolas.�
Elu glanced around to make sure nobody
was listening, and even felt the air above his head for tell-tale warmth
before continuing.� "I think somebody is sneaking in here
at night and adding to our workloads," he whispered.�
Legolas rolled his eyes.� "That
would be logical."�
"Do you want to know my plan?"�
"Are you going to tell me whether
I want to know or not?"�
Elu nodded.� "Yes.� Here's
what I think.� I think we should work in shifts.� I will work
the day, and you the night.� That way we can find out where all
the new swords are coming from.� I don't think anybody would dare
add to our pile while one of us stood guard.� That way, we could
be finished!"�
"But if we finish, Aul� will only
give us a new job.� And I don't mind swords.� They're far
better than helmets.� Ask Gilfanon."�
'But don't you know?" Elu asked
excitedly.�
"...know?"�
"The end of the swords means the
end of our imprisonment!� As soon as we get through that pile,
we're free to go!� Aul� can only keep us here as long as we have
a job to do.� Once that one job is finished, we're free!�
And I do want to be free.� Don't you?"�
Legolas was baffled by Elu's words.�
As far as he knew, he was not imprisoned, unless both Aul� and Matyelcar
had neglected to tell him something important.�
If Elu saw Legolas' confusion, he showed
no sign.� "This is what Aul� told me on my first day here.�
As long as there are swords to mend, I am bound to his service.�
But when the swords are finished, I am free to go.� There is no
way out of here except to finish the job; it's part of the enchantment
of this place.� And if we don't take some action against the pile-up
of new swords every night, we can never leave!� When the swords
are gone, the wall will open for us, and we can leave freely.�
Don't you want that?"�
Yes, Legolas thought.� He suddenly
wanted it very much.� When he had been working out of what he had
thought was his own free will, it had been no hardship.� But at
the realisation that he was a prisoner, he wanted nothing more than
to leave immediately.� "Right," he said.� "I
do want that.� I'll stand guard tonight and find out who's adding
to our sword pile.� This has gone on long enough."�
~�
When everyone else finished for the day,
Legolas hid under his table and waited.� He did not dare try working;
the sound of a single hammer ringing on a single anvil in the vast room
would be certain to draw unwanted attention.� So he sat with legs
pulled up to his chest and his chin on his knees, his bottom growing
steadily sorer through its contact with the hard ground, and he waited.�
He hummed to himself, sang quietly, counted bricks, and picked at the
roughening skin on his fingers to pass the time.� He made a game
of sitting absolutely still for as long as he could.� He tossed
metal shavings, trying to get them to land in a bucket under the next
table.� And he waited more.�
It was not until shortly before the next
workday began that someone finally came into the room.� Aul�,
in his aspect of White-Robed Prince, was wandering up and down between
the tables.� Every once in a while, he would pause for a few moments,
his back always inconveniently turned to Legolas, before moving on.�
He paused at Gilfanon and Findor's table.� He paused at the table
next to where Legolas was hiding.� As Legolas crawled out and hid
behind the anvil to get a better look, he paused at Legolas and Elu's
table.�
This time, Legolas could see exactly
what was happening.� He and Elu had left their table as instructed:
finished swords in one pile, unfinished swords in another.� They
had always assumed that somebody came during the night to take away
the finished swords and add new ones to the pile for the morning.�
But Aul� did not gather the swords to clear away.� Instead, he
picked up only one.� His hand glowed momentarily with a bright
golden light, and the sword seemed to wilt from his power.� It
bent in the middle, the edges grew dull and uneven, and the tip became
blunted.� The glow faded, and Aul� tossed the ruined sword into
the unfinished pile.�
It took three repetitions of this for
Legolas to realise what was happening.� There were no new swords
in the morning.� During the night, Aul� deliberately ruined the
ones they had fixed, and set them back to be done again.� He was
the one who sabotaged their progress.� With a loud shout and no
thought at all, Legolas leapt up from his hiding place.� "Hey!�
What do you think you're doing?"�
Aul� did not even look at him.�
"I'm resetting your daily work, Legolas."�
"But we finished those!� Those
ones were done!� Why do we have to do them again?!"�
"You've likely done all the swords
in this pile at least ten times over," said Aul�.� "But
that's not the point of your work.� You are here to learn."�
"But... why make us... how are we
ever supposed to... I don't understand!"�
Slowly, Aul� turned around to gaze at
Legolas with a sad smile.� "Did you never wonder where all
the swords came from?"�
Legolas could not honestly say that he
had.�
"Did you never wonder why so many
people here spend so many days fixing weapons and armour in a land that
has no war?"�
"I... no."�
"It serves no purpose but to busy
the body and heal the mind.� Everyone here is here for a reason.�
To pay his penance to the world.� Did you never notice that?�
Your partner, Elu, new from Mandos, still harbours feelings of resentment
toward the Noldor and the Dwarves.� Before he can rejoin the world
of the living, he must rid himself of prejudices through their manner
of work.� Your friend Gilfanon followed F�anor out of Tirion and
slew the innocent Teleri at Alqualond�, and he has come here to work
away his guilt.� The more helmets he mends, the more he will learn
that battle is not a path of excitement and glory.� I will know
when they have worked enough, and I decide when they are ready to leave."�
"But what about me?" Legolas
asked.� "I did none of those things.� How long must I
stay?"�
"Matyelcar never told me your exact
situation.� But I should be able to tell when you are ready."�
"But I only came here to learn how
to be a smith.� I'm not here for any penance."�
Aul� stared at him.� It was an
uncomfortable kind of stare.� The kind of stare that made him think
Aul� had just realised a great mistake.�
"Ohhhhh..." said Aul�.�
"Ah.� Well then."� He shifted uncomfortably.�
"I'm afraid you're in the wrong place.� You should be on the
other side."�
"The other side?"�
�
"The other side of the pillars."� Aul� gestured to the
rows of pillars containing the tunnel enchantment.� "This
side is for those working off debts, guilts, curses, sins, and other
misfortunes.� That side is for the regular smiths.� You should
be over there."�
"You mean to say," Legolas
said hotly, "that I've been mending faulty swords, by myself and
with Elu, for no reason all this time?� Because you made a mistake?"�
Aul� nodded.� "That's exactly
it.� But don't worry.� You can move tomorrow.� Tomorrow,
I will show you the way to the other side.� Then you can properly
begin your training."�
Legolas slumped back down behind the
anvil.� "Thanks," he muttered to Aul�, in a tone that
indicated anything but gratitude.� He waited only until Aul� had
moved on to ruin the next table's work before leaving the workshop as
quickly as possible.�
Elu was waiting for him outside his bedroom.�
"Well?� What did you see?"�
"Aul�," said Legolas.�
"Aul�'s the one hindering our progress.� Every night he comes
in and undoes all our work.� One touch of his hand, and the swords
are back to the way they were before we fixed them."�
Elu looked furious.� "And to
think I told him he had nice eyes!" he spat.� "How horrible!�
Did you at least stop him?"�
"I couldn't.� He said... well...
I don't think I'm supposed to repeat what he said.� It sounded
too much like a secret.� But I couldn't stop him.� The pile
of mangled swords has been refreshed for you."�
"The nerve of him!� I'll be
reporting this abuse to my wife.� I can tell you now that she'll
have a thing or two to say about... wait a moment."� He paused
to look at Legolas shrewdly.� "You said the pile was waiting
for me.� What about you?"�
Legolas took a breath, and looked at
the floor.� "I'm leaving."�
"Leaving?� What do you mean,
leaving?� Aul�'s letting you go?"�
"It turns out I'm not supposed to
be here," said Legolas.� "It was a misunderstanding.�
I came here on my own to learn how to be a smith, and Aul� thought
I was here for penance like you.� When we talked, it became clear
that he had made a mistake.� He wants to transfer me to the regular
workshop today."�
"Oh.� Well that's alright,
then.� You'll still be here."�
"No..." Legolas said carefully.�
"I am leaving this place altogether."�
Elu looked confused.� "But
you just said you came here to learn the trade.� Why leave now
when you're finally getting your chance?"�
"I came here out of respect for
my friend," said Legolas.� "Gimli, the Dwarf.� I
wanted to learn the skill of metalcraft as a reminder of him."�
Once he spoke these words and started the story, a story he had told
no-one until this point, Legolas found he could not stop.� He looked
Elu squarely in the eye and continued.� "Gimli was a bearer
of a Ring of Power at the end of the Third Age.� Because of this,
he was granted the right to sail into the West with me.� And he
did.� That was nearly six hundred years ago.� He was the only
Dwarf ever to live in the Undying Lands, and this was both a blessing
and a curse for him.� With no others of his kind, he became unhappy
and withdrawn.� He came here to Aul�'s workshop to study under
his master, the one who made all Dwarves, but even that wasn't enough.�
Three hundred and ninety years after he arrived, he left.� We built
him a boat, and he sailed back into the east to search for anyone remaining
of his kin.� I don't know if he ever made it, or in the event that
he did make it back, if he ever found his people.� But he was a
close friend.� And to preserve his memory, I tried to learn the
craft he loved."�
For a long while, Elu was silent, respectfully
holding Legolas' gaze.� "I'm sorry to learn of your loss,"
he finally said.� "It's hard losing someone dear.� But
you've done a fine thing to honour him this way."�
Legolas could only nod.�
"Good luck on your journey home,"
Elu added, placing a hand on Legolas' shoulder.� "When I am
free, I will come find you."�
"Then I will wait for your visit."�
�
�
�
Part Two: Longing�
It was infuriating to Legolas that of
all the Elves in the world that could occupy his mind, he happened to
be stuck on Elu Thingol.�
He had not seen Elu in forty-eight years.�
During that time, his preoccupation had only grown.� Who he once
could not stand, he now missed.� Twice he had considered going
back to Aul�'s workshop.� Twice he had convinced himself that
he was better off simply forgetting.�
He had seen Gilfanon near the city tower
some years earlier, and had been told that Elu was still hard at work.�
For whatever reason, this thought gnawed at him like a guilt.�
As if he were somehow to blame, for not staying behind to help with
the interminable sword pile.� Even though he knew logically that
his efforts would have no impact.�
Mostly, he skulked around his father's
house feeling both restless and exhausted.� He refused to answer
when his mother asked him what was wrong.� He poked the fire, prodded
the furniture, scribbled on scraps of parchment, and twisted his hair
around his fingers.� He was bored.� He had no desire to do
anything.� He was hungry.� He never wanted to eat again.�
He wanted to run away.� He wanted to sleep for sixty years.�
He lay flat on his back in bed, staring at the roof beams, and did not
move when his mother knocked at the door.�
"Legolas?� Are you sleeping?"�
"No, Nana."�
"May I open the door?� You
have a guest."�
As Legolas stiffly sat up, the door swung
open.� And there stood Elu.� The light coming through the
doorway behind him made him shine like a star.�
"Elu," Legolas gasped.�
"Gilfanon told me you live here.�
I hope you don't mind me dropping in unexpectedly, but I only arrived
in town this morning and thought I would like to see you."�
Legolas got up and out of the bed in
one swift movement.� "Of course I don't mind," he said.�
"You're always welcome in my home."�
Elu grinned and handed him a perfectly
finished bronze and steel helmet.� "From Gilfanon.� Says
he's finished with it."�
"Thank you.� Elu... are you
wearing Aul�'s old clothes?"�
"Yes," said Elu.� "I
told him I liked the look, so he gave them to me as a parting gift.�
I gave him a lock of my hair, because his seemed to be on fire at the
time.� I thought he could use it."�
"Mm.� That's very thoughtful.�
Please, come in and sit down."�
As Elu passed, Legolas caught a whiff
of the distinct smell of molten iron.�
"Listen, Legolas," Elu said
abruptly as soon as he sat in the chair by the window.� "We
don't have much time.� Tomorrow morning, my wife will be here to
join me.� This is where we plan to start our new realm."�
Legolas' stomach sank down to somewhere
near his knees.� "Your... wife..."�
"Yes, Melian, I'm sure you've heard
of her.� Lovely woman, but very strict.� So if we're going
to do this, it needs to be done now before she sets up the walls and
enchantments again."�
Shaking, Legolas could only stare at
Elu in confusion.� "Do what?"�
"What we have both wanted to do
for a very long time." �
Elu stood, and in two strides he had
crossed the room to enfold Legolas in a smothering embrace.� Their
lips pressed together, despite a rather awkward difference in height,
and Legolas suddenly found himself sinking into a kiss that he had not
even realised he so desperately wanted.� "Elu..." he
gasped.�
"Shh.� Don't speak.� Someone
will hear."� Gently, he pushed Legolas toward the wall.�
His fingers moved to unfasten the clasps and ties of their clothing,
which had suddenly become far too cumbersome.� Without even breaking
the kiss, Elu managed to have them both undressed in a� matter
of seconds.� Their clothing disappeared like smoke.� Elu's
hands covered Legolas like ivy.�
A minute later, they had fallen to the
bed.� Legolas, pinned beneath, fiercely clutched Elu closer; everything
about him was rushing a memory of Aul�'s fortress.� The scent
of iron, the heat of furnaces, and the feel of work-roughened skin.�
It was as if they had never left.� The moment could have been an
extension of that last morning.� If Legolas had only stayed.�
Elu slid against him, bare and slick
skin teasing his body with a promise of something more, and Legolas
could hardly stand it.� He reached down to grasp his hardened shaft
and tugged with a frantic need.� Elu copied the movement.�
"I want..." he breathed.�
Elu only repeated, "Dont' speak."�
He kissed Legolas again, one more rough, biting kiss, before lowering
his head and slipping down to Legolas' neck, shoulder, chest, navel,
and thigh.� Legolas bit hard on his lip as Elu's mouth found its
final mark.� Aul�'s fire shot right through them in a line from
Elu's tongue to Legolas' very core.� He writhed on the bed, arching
and twisting as it burned him from the inside out.� Until, with
a flash of brilliant light, his body gave way and finished like a burst
of sparks from the heavens.� He gasped to breathe in the thick,
ringing charm that hovered around the bed.� Only cold air filled
his lungs.�
The sudden shock woke him more effectively
than a bucket of water, and he sat upright in bed so quickly it made
his head spin.� He was still clothed.� And he was still alone.�
The dream remained firmly scorched in memory, but only there.�
He could still smell the iron and taste the unique saltiness of Elu's
breath, but it was only a memory.� And his heart was still racing.�
And someone was knocking at the door.�
"Legolas?� Are you sleeping?"�
"No, Nana."�
"May I open the door?� You
have a guest."�
He nearly leapt out of his skin at the
words.� "Elu?"�
His mother opened the door a crack to
peek through.� "No, dear, he says his name is Gilfanon.�
Shall I have him come in?"�
Legolas looked down at the crumpled mess
of blankets on his bed, and the state of his clothing.� "No,
I need a moment to change.� Tell him I'll be out directly."�
~�
"I suppose you wonder why I'm here,"
Gilfanon said when Legolas entered the sitting room.�
"To bring me a helmet?"�
"...What?"�
"Sorry," said Legolas.�
"Just a dream I had."�
Gilfanon smiled uncertainly.� "Actually,
I'm here to tell you that your friend Elu has been released from Aul�'s
fortress.� He's resting at my house right now, and I told him I'd
come by here to let you know.� He's decided to live in Tavrobel."�
Legolas' heart threatened to jump out
through his mouth.� "Here?� He's coming here?� That's..."�
And it sunk right back down, even lower than before, when he remembered
one crucial fact about Elu.� He would be living in Tavrobel with
his wife.� "That's wonderful.� I suppose Melian will
be coming to live with him."�
"Ah..." said Gilfanon.�
"Not exactly.� You see...� It's not unheard of for Elven
couples to grow apart over the years.� It's even easier for an
Elf and a Maia to recognise their differences.� Melian has been
living without her husband for seven thousand years.� And Elu now
finds that, while he knows he will always love her, the feelings are
no longer of a romantic nature.� They are still close friends.�
But Melian will remain in Valmar with her kin, and Elu will come here
to be with his."�
"He's... he's not married any more,"
Legolas whispered.� It seemed an impossible thing to hope.�
"He and Melian are still married,"
Gilfanon corrected.� "Their marriage will endure until the
end of time.� But they are no longer together."�
The difference, as far as Legolas was
concerned, was immaterial.� He had a chance.� A small chance,
and one that he abruptly realised was based in the dream he just had,
but a chance all the same.� He needed to see Elu immediately.�
"Can I see him?" he asked Gilfanon.�
Gilfanon nodded.� "Of course.�
I did come here to collect you, after all."�
Legolas grabbed his cloak down from its
peg on the wall and pushed the door open.� "Come then!"
he called.� "No time to waste."�
Laughing, Gilfanon followed.� "He'll
be just as happy to see you.� You know, he talked about you incessantly
after you left Aul�'s workshop."�
Legolas could only grin stupidly as Gilfanon
stepped ahead and led the way.�
"Legolas this, and Legolas that...
all the time.� It was a bit irritating, actually."� He
stopped in the middle of the path and turned around with a smirk.�
"You'd think he was in love with you, the way he went on."�
"Well," Legolas replied, "one can always hope..."