Hey all. This is my first multi chapter LotR fiction so here goes. This is all written (apart from some fairly obsessive tinkering) and is about five chapters at the moment with an epilogue. This may change. Tinkering. I can assure you that the action most certainly does start but I wanted to set the scene with this first chapter.

Gimli and Legolas friendship fic, naturally, with a bit of whump to come but nothing that drowns out everything else. As always these characters are not mine, I get nothing from this but the enjoyment of it. I truly hope you like it

MyselfOnly xx

"Gwanno ereb nin!"

The demand is spoken with every syllable dripping with warning. The night is dark and silent and the raised voice is jarring.

"Come down here!" demands another voice; this one cajoling but not without a trace of impatience. If I can hear it, so can the elf.

"Baw. Im gruitheb nan in"

"I am well aware of that. Come down!"

Aragorn is finally losing himself to his irritation. I am sat by the fire, propped up against my pack. It is early spring but the night is mild and the merry fire is heartening. I am warm and full and have a pipe to smoke, and now I have some entertainment to watch.

The tree that Legolas is in is very old; its branches are thick enough for even one as stout as I to stand quite comfortably upon and they spread very wide indeed. This whole clearing is under its protection. Aragorn – dusty and grimy as he always seems to be – stands beneath the particular branch that the elf stands upon. Legolas is in high agitation – his moon pale nimbus is clear and sharp and his eyes burn furiously at the Ranger turned King stood on the ground beneath him. If Aragorn could climb this particular tree I have no doubt that he would already be halfway up it by now.

Legolas reaches behind him and in a flash has his bow ready with an arrow nocked. It is not yet pointed at Aragorn but there is no question as to his intent.

"You would not." Aragorn hisses, but I note he turns his body slightly to try to make himself less of a target. It is a redundant gesture. It is Legolas and it is a bow. The Ranger tries a different tactic. "Saes, Legolas. I am only mortal and we spend so little time together now that the weight of Gondor sits upon my shoulders. Do not make me spend any more of the time we have left to us shouting up at a tree!"

His change in tactic works and I take note of this. Aragorn has known Legolas long enough to know how to manipulate him where I am still learning. I would have started throwing rocks at him long before now.

Legolas groans loudly in frustration. His bow vanishes as fast as it appeared and the elf jumps lightly to the ground. He stalks across the clearing and folds himself cleanly into a seat beside me, staring at the fire as though trying to extinguish it with thought alone. Aragorn tips his head back for a moment, thanking the stars before he too returns to the fireside.

The way that the elf has sat himself so close to me reminds me once again that he may be a half wild thing, he may be thousands of years old and he may have been fighting the darkness for most of that but he is still considered young. His seeking support in my presence is an astounding thing that I try not to think on too much as it twists my thoughts into knots.

"King Thranduil will side with him, you realise" I inform Aragorn. "If Gondor, Ithilien and Eryn Lasgalen declare war upon one another I am seeking refuge beneath the mountains and will not emerge until the smoke clears. I am far too old for these things now."

There is a moment of silence before Aragorn barks a laugh and Legolas emits an extremely undignified snort. It serves to break the tension and the elf finally relaxes back to lean upon his elbows.

"Saes, gwador nin. I ask only for your welfare" Aragorn picks up discussion again. He is like a warg worrying a carcass and will not let it drop. Legolas' eyes flash dangerous again and he tenses.

"Estel" he warns. "I have travelled the Hithaeglir more times than you can count and in darker times than this. I had no need of an escort then, I hardly need one now, and if I did I would choose better guards than the Elrondionnath – Arwen perhaps."

"Having done something many times does not mean that it is a good idea" Aragorn counters. "And my brothers are fine warriors. The mountains will not be safe for travellers for a long time yet; Orcs still roam there, and bandits and any number of His dark creatures yet left over. You attract trouble in lands far safer."

We are not far from Imladris but tomorrow we leave our friend so that Legolas may return – however briefly – home to his King and father. Aragorn does not wish him to travel the mountains without an escort of Imladrin elves. Legolas disagrees. It is the same conversation that has peppered our last few days together and the elf's patience has finally worn thin. I do not blame him; I grow weary of it myself. I believe that Aragorn is simply struggling with the separation but he is going to get himself shot. Not necessarily by Legolas either. The bow does not look that difficult.

"Those…Noldor have instilled upon you a lamentable habit of saying one thing many times believing the answer might change with repetition" Legolas announces irritably and concludes with a very certain: "They should never have been allowed to raise you."

Aragorn seems to struggle with how to address that. I speak instead.

"Do you think me so useless?" I ask. I keep my voice deceptively calm, curious. Both eyes turn to me in surprise. "I had believed that I had carried myself fairly well during the quest for the ring, and all the years even before we met. I had imagined myself more than enough of a companion for an elven princeling – you do not believe it so?"

Legolas' eyes dart right back to Aragorn, a rather juvenile smirk forming as the mighty King Elessar Telcontar flaps his mouth open and closed like a particularly horrified fish.

"Gimli I meant no offense, truly" he rushes, a placating hand out. "You are one of finest warriors that I have ever had the honour to know. However – "

"Then it is settled" I interrupt. "The elf and I journey to Eryn Lasgalen and then onward, as planned. Honestly Aragorn, you expend much energy coming to conclusions that any sensible dwarf would have put together days ago."

"Dwarves are far quicker of mind than men" Legolas confirms archly in my direction. A piece of firewood flies past his head and I am treated to further angry elvish jabberings that I am glad I do not understand. Aragorn removes himself from our company in annoyance, depositing himself beneath the tree that he had been shouting at a short while ago. Legolas is staring at me.

"This has gone on for days" he accuses. "Days. Why did you not speak before? Any longer and I would have deprived the realm of men yet again of any rightful King; the whole quest would have been an absolute waste."

I shrug. "At first it was entertaining. Then I was curious as to how long your patience would last; you are quick to anger at times and distressingly prone to violence but not so with Aragorn, I would have seen how long before you simply ran away into the trees and failed to return again."

Legolas thinks this through. He seems to conclude that this is an adequate answer and I am reminded again that elves are very strange creatures.

"What changed?"

"I learned today that the patience of the Firstborn is no myth, and that Aragorn is very lucky not to be bound and gagged despite the love I have for him."

Legolas laughs and it is good to hear. It is not long before Aragorn returns sheepishly and things are restored; we talk of small things and do not sour the mood with sad reminiscences. It will be a long while before we see each other again and these are our last hours. I drift off in the drowsy warmth of firelight and soft conversation and when I wake a few hours before dawn the Ranger is snoring from within his cloak and the elf is gone. I do not look for him out of concern but rather out of habit and find him back in the damned tree. He is awake and sitting high up, his eyes fixed upon the stars with the same expression that I have seen times beyond number but have yet to unravel. I know that he is listening to the Song so I grant him privacy, returning to my dreaming safe beneath his watch.

~{0}~

"I should have listened to the human" I grumble into my beard. The elf's eyes narrow and he hisses in irritation.

I spend the next few hours walking alone after he takes to the trees to remove himself from my presence and I do not care. Only a week has passed since we left Aragorn behind for the woodland realm and we have only just reached the foothills of the Hithaeglir. The weather has turned oppressive and overcast; the clouds are a low and menacing presence and the air is summer thick. I am uncomfortable and bad tempered and the elf is not responding well to my baiting; the more I snap and grouse at him the more taciturn he becomes, which irks me further. I wish that it was not the two of us so that there might be more people to talk to. A dwarf would be better – a dwarf knows the benefits of a good bellowing argument for stirring ones blood and clearing the air – but the elf is like a wild animal; he will remove himself from unpleasantness to seethe in silence. He will only respond when pushed too far and it is swift and bloody when he does. It is not healthy in my opinion.

When the evening begins to draw in and I decide that we have had enough of walking for the day I bellow up at the trees. I know he is up there somewhere although I can neither hear nor see him. He is always there. But no lithe figure drops to the ground, no slight stirring of the air indicates that he is behind me, no voice calls out.

I find water and I settle down. I am moving no further and I will wait out whatever game this is.

After an hour passes I have built a fire and am starting to feel concern but he finally appears from nowhere, removes his weapons and settles down. The look he fixes me with is unblinking and cold but I do not look up.

"Children sulk" I inform him.

"And warriors scout" he counters, answering the question I have not asked. "You move so slowly I went ahead to see the road. I could hear you grumbling and huffing for miles so I knew you lived."

"The air is too close" I growl. "It is too hot for spring."

"You have too much hair" is his quite certain answer. He pulls one of his silver knives out to twirl it expertly between elegant fingers. It flashes with the firelight. "I could trim it if you wish, or even your beard although it will likely blunt my blade."

My next torrent of epithets is expected; it is a game and we both know it well. I am apologising. He is showing that he bears no ill. His light laughter does my heart well and the unpleasantness of the day is forgotten.

"So what of the road?" I ask. I have pulled out my pipe and he regards it with disdain.

"You will enjoy it" he replies. "We will be out of the wood tomorrow and the path ahead is steep grassland. By tomorrow afternoon we will be in the foothills where the roots of the mountain are open to the world. You may regret us not bringing a horse by then, although you will not be so hot. There is snow on the passes still."

"You saw it?"

He nods. It is nothing to him, to see past leagues. I wonder if I would want to; the world before me is enough. To see and hear more than this would be eternally distracting. I wonder if I have just come to understand his oddness a little better.

We are quiet again but it is comfortable silence and after a while he begins to sing to himself. It is low but he has a pleasant voice and he is lying upon the ground, staring at the stars again.

"Elves and stars" I sigh. He jumps as though forgetting I am there and tilts his head upon the ground so that he can see me. There are leaves in his hair. He is waiting for me to elaborate so I sigh and indulge him.

"Elves – ever are you looking to the night sky. Never is your mind entirely here. It can feel lonely, being in the company of the Firstborn."

Legolas is quiet for a while and his eyes drift back to the shining firmament.

"What do you see?" he asks curiously.

"Blackness" I respond. "With a sea of tiny silver lights spread upon it. What do you see?"

He is silent again for a long time and his fingers dig into the soil.

"I will tell you one day" he promises. He does not mean to sound mysterious; it is likely that he has never thought on it before and has not yet decided upon his answer.

TBC

Translations:

Gwanno ereb nin! - leave me alone

Baw. Im gruitheb nan in - no, I am angry with you

Saes, gwador nin - please my (sworn) brother

Well that's chapter one finally let go of and set free. As I have said in previous fictions, the Legolas in my head is a much wilder creature than some write him and my Gimli is much wiser and more philosophical. That's just how I see them. Hope you enjoyed; I'll probably post the chapters every three or four days otherwise I'll never stop messing with them. A review would absolutely make my day.

MyselfOnly