“I can appreciate the peppers the Haradrim use in their foods, Legolas, but I cannot appreciate them every day. One must give the skin on the roof of one’s mouth time to heal.” Excepting, apparently, the Haradrim, who likely built up an immunity.

“And for that I thank you, my prince.” Having grown up with such a sharp-tongued father, Legolas had always seemed more able to handle Thranduil’s wit. It helped. Not as much was censured—some matter of state, but not casual conversation.

He worried about Legolas spending too much time in the cold, and turned their path towards the main keep. “Perhaps we might visit the kitchen, and see what we find there? I understand they have the sense to keep a cat or two.”