Greeted by laughs and teasing, they kicked off muddy boots in the hallway and hung damp cloaks near the door to dry. They moved about the kitchen checking under steaming lids and in crocks for their late repast. Past experience told them the kitchen staff ate as well, or better, than the guests upstairs, and their search soon gained them heaping plates and brimming tankards for their efforts. Throwing protective tablecloths over the stacked sacks of newly milled flour and corn, they clambered up onto stacked sacks and settled in, stocking footed and out of the bustle of the kitchen's evening business. They tucked into their food like hungry field hands.
The exercise of the long ride, plus the cold and damp, had sharpened their appetites, and they enjoyed the impromptu evening meal with gusto and appreciation. They settled back in complete comfort and abandon. Legolas had learned to relax in their company and be himself, unlike the restrained behavior required of him at home. He smiled and joked a bit between bites, his usual reserve lost in the warmth of the setting. Centuries of refinement, and elegant manners, faded before the simple joys of good food eaten simply with friends. The informal atmosphere and warmth of the kitchen with a crackling fire warmed their hearts and souls. Refreshed by the exercise, meal and good company, Elrond settled back against the hard sacks and rough wall and decided no place was better to be than here. The kitchen tabby crept into his lap and curled into a ball, content with just a scratch behind the ears and a soft place to nap. Her kittens rolled and played amidst the stacked sacks around them. Legolas was taking in the bustle of the kitchen and the pantries, the efficient, yet casual, nature of this part of the house never failed to fascinate and amuse him.
Findalor was refilling their tankards when Erestor came in with the first of the servers clearing up from the meal upstairs. Elegantly clothed with hair braided into a complex pattern, Erestor was looking his most stately tonight. Looking briefly at the muddy boots by the door he started to speak with the cooks. He stopped in mid-sentence and looked at the three sets of boots again, and slowly looked around the kitchen. Seeing the three seated in the distant corner, feet up and cozy amidst the rewards of a good harvest year startled him into silence, and with open mouth he stared at them. Walking across the room in a few strides, his hands crept to his hips in that old habit everyone knew.
Elrond and Findalor braced themselves for an upbraiding; their sidelong glances confirmed their sense of guiltiness. Legolas raised his eyebrows and waited to see what would happen next. No one would have dared to upbraid his father in his own house, yet the management circle at Rivendell often kept Elrond "in line" with a remark, or a downright scolding. Legolas suspected this flexibility kept things fresh and effective, and only extreme fondness, strong trust, and years of friendship allowed this interaction between the patient Master of the Great House and the others who helped manage the community.
Erestor, left alone to manage a houseful of guests with no host, and with foul weather keeping everyone in, was pressed to manage the evening to his satisfaction, and was cranky now because of it. To see the threesome before him smiling over tankards, damp, muddy and with empty plates stacked beside them was more than he could bear. "What? Where? When?" he sputtered, hands waving. Lindefal wandered through the kitchen just then and was drawn over by the gestures and expressions of the group. He knew a guilty look when he saw one; he saw plenty in his role as Aide of the Master's Chambers. He was clucking his tongue at the state of their garments and tangled hair. He did note the relaxed smile that played across Elrond's lips, and filed the fact that another strenuous horseback ride had restored the center and joy in life for the Master of the House.
Erestor began again. "Where have you been? Why are you here? Don't you know we have a dining hall full of guests upstairs?" He stomped a foot in incensed affrontage.
"I have packed them into the Hall of Fire for another evening of song with this inclement weather, but they all have asked to see you as soon as you were located. I have made excuses and apologized all evening for you, and here you sit" He looked at Findalor, "And I suppose you had a hand in all this?" Findalor shrugged. Legolas just smiled under scrutiny. Erestor was greeted by quiet looks and smiles, and raised eyebrows; they knew he would sputter himself out in a bit and then really want to know where they had been and what they were up too.
Centuries of friendship made this group all too comfortable with each other, and Legolas was beginning to understand that this was part of the nature of life at Rivendell. Thunder cracked and rolled, and the downpour increased. The shutters of the small high windows of the kitchen pantry were opened a bit and let the fresh air and noises into the warm space. Still scowling, Erestor took a tankard from Findalor, and carefully gathering up his heavy velvet robes, took a seat next to them on the long row of grain sacks. Kittens clambered up his long robes and batted at his silver buttons. He carefully removed them and piled the furry bunch into Findalor's lap, then leaned back against the wall. "So, who's first to tell their tale?" he asked. " It had better be good."
The kitchen slowly filled with servers and dishwashers, and the friendly background clatter of everyday life contrasted with worrisome tales from patrols, rumors and news from the south. The evening grew late as they spoke among themselves. As the kitchen staff finished their chores, and the bread bakers came in to start their early morning baking chores, and the group gathered plates of cheese and loaves of bread, and retired to Elrond's chambers for more discussion.
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