With a secret mission to marry an elf, Wynne must join Legolas' and Elvenking Thranduil's new quest as a horsekeeper. She begins an adventurous journey, encountering orcs and monsters, friendly uruk-hai, a lady dwarf and many Fellowship heroes - but...
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~ Wynne and Thranduil are on a first name basis and Legolas renews her new braids. ~
16. Drinking With Elves (Again)
"So, now that we are on a first name basis, can I call you Thranny?" Wynne hiccuped, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Absolutely not."
"Aww why not? Galion is Gale, and Nodir and Bronedir are Nodi and Bron. Thranny would be perfect for you. And you," she poked Legolas in the chest with her index finger, "you can be Leggy."
"If you call me Leggy I shall call you Lembas Lover."
"Not funny." Wynne scowled at him.
"I think it is hilarious." Legolas' features were deadpan apart from the slightly upturned corners of his mouth.
Wynne tried to poke him again but he caught her hand. She wanted him to keep holding it but sadly he let go, and she couldn't think of a plausible excuse to touch him again.
Then she remembered his bite wound. "Is your hand better now?"
"It is. This fire water really has benefits." He took a sip from his cup.
"I didn't clean it for you yesterday, what with the orcs kidnapping me and everything. I can do it now if you want?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Then let's go to the river. You should wash it before I apply the liquor."
Legolas followed her down to the dark stream, that now had a red tint reflecting the setting sun. She noticed with some satisfaction that the elf swayed a little in his gait.
"I thought you were so unaffected by spirits that you even beat a dwarf in a drinking competition. How come you can't walk straight?"
"I do walk straight. And look at my hand, steady as a rock." He held out his good hand for her to see.
She came closer, stumbling on a tuft of grass.
"Now who cannot walk straight?"
"Ha, I never said liquor doesn't affect me. It does. So you must support me." Wynne took his hand and he didn't seem to mind. It felt strong and warm and covered hers entirely.
She walked extra slowly the last few yards, making the moment last, but eventually she had to release him.
As Legolas removed the bandage and began to wash, Wynne sat on the grassy slope just above the rough gravel of the shore.
Music drifted from the campfire above; Nodir and Bronedir were singing again, accompanied by Galion's flute. This time their bass voices were joined by a third, a baritone.
