Reconsideration
Thranduil sat, wine goblet forgotten in his hand, watching the dancing - watching that Dwarf dancing. There was grace there, in a very stunted, earthy way.
The Dwarf had proven to be far more than he'd expected, with a voice rougher than any Elven voice, but with courteous words that displayed a keen intelligence. His laughter was contagious, and his eyes showed not a hint of guile.
Listening to their stories, he'd discovered that the Dwarf had been a faithful friend. Gimli had saved the life of his son.
That changed everything.
Now he was glad he'd made the effort.