A/N: Nothing like final papers to inspire you to write anything but final papers.

Strange Gesture, Chapter 4

Gimli wandered aimlessly through the hallways, letting his mind wander as well. To press the issue would damage their friendship, but to ignore it would only allow it to fester. If he asked someone, he would be going back on his work. The only course would be to puzzle everything out himself, but he did not know where to start in the whirlwind of senseless images.

Wenches and serving maids. Blushes and gasps. Courtyards and trees. Breaking ties and sleepless nights. Bachelors and weddings. Elves and ears.

The too-real prospect of losing his friendship with the Elf disturbed him more than he wanted to admit. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't notice young Pippin until he had nearly tripped over him.

"My apologies, lad," Gimli mumbled.

"No, I wasn't watching where I was going either," Pip answered dismissingly. "Gimli," he started carefully, his voice full of concern, as he continued walking. I had no real destination and fell into step with him. "Do you know what has happened to Legolas?"

"You sound as if he had suddenly taken ill! I promise you, lad, that I just left him in the courtyard, fit as a fiddle."

His face brightened quite a bit. "Oh thank goodness. The way the sons of Elrond were talking I feared he was quite ill. One spoke of bringing Aragorn in to help with something about his ears. The other may a joke about them falling off!"

Another piece of a puzzle that already overwhelmed his brain. "Elvish folly, lad, Elvish folly." But the gruff outburst softened to a gentle, melancholy, "No, he is not ill."

"Gimli, what is wrong with him?" Pip asked, curiously.

"You ask the wrong person," Gimli shook his head sadly. "I never know what thoughts fly through that Elvish head of his." He sighed, paused, the contemplatively started again, "Maybe he is mad at me. I might have done something against some Elvish custom I don't know about. Or maybe he's embarrassed at the way the son of Elrond was teasing him. Maybe he's just sensitive about his ears?"

Pippin played a sounding board quite well, listening intently. Truthfully, he just hoped to somehow make sense of what was said.

Gimli slowly wound down, throwing out ideas one by one, none of which ever quite fit with all the details and nuances. Five minutes of babbling to the poor confused Hobbit had only made him more determined to discover the meaning of that strange gesture.

The hour tolled, and Pippin excused himself to go to his post for watch. 'Already eight o'clock?' Gimli puzzled. However much he had used the wedding as an excuse, surely he did have much to do before noon. His gifts to the new King and his bride still required a bit of work on the details, and he would trust no servant to see that his armor and boots were properly cleaned and polished before the ceremony. With a sigh, he wandered to the oppressive loneliness of his room.