Summary: My take on the beginning of the friendship between Legolas and Gimli. AU fic.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or places mentioned in this story. It was written purely for fun and I am receiving no profit from it.
Warning: I would just like to say that this story is completely AU and does not follow the beginning of Legolas and Gimli's friendship as written in Lord of the Rings – it is simply my idea of how the event would have played out. This is also a story for Legolas fans!
Smoke from Gimli's pipe curled upwards in an intricate spiral, and the four hobbits gazed at it in awe. "Mr Gimli, could you teach me how to do that?" asked an admiring Pippin his voice hushed with reverence. Gimli bellowed a laugh and grinned a triumphant grin at the elf that sat directly opposite. "Aye, that I can young hobbit. A dwarf can out do anyone, even an elf on that account!" he cried out, just for the elf opposite him to hear. He knew well how much the elf hated his pipe smoke and relished in blowing it in Legolas' direction, just to see him wrinkle his nose in disgust. Speaking of which, Gimli took along drag on his pipe and released it in a slow whoosh letting the wind do the work of carrying it so that it swirled about the elf. There were gasps of admiration from the hobbits, but a very different response from Legolas,
"Gimli! Stop that!" he cried in frustration. The dwarf had to know how annoying it was for the elf! In fact, Legolas thought, with more than a hint of bitterness, that was probably the very reason the dwarf did it so much. At first Gimli had smoked infrequently, but once he had discovered how it enraged the elf he had taken to doing it everyday, much to Legolas' chagrin.
When Aragorn, Boromir and Gandalf were out collecting firewood, leaving it to Legolas, Gimli and the hobbits to make camp and prepare the food, Gimli would get out his pipe and begin to smoke. He had tried doing when everyone was present, but Aragorn and Gandalf soon made him stop, seeing it's effect on the Prince. But now they had no knowledge of it, Gimli did not advertise the fact, Legolas was too proud to mention it and the hobbits were not aware that it was a cause for concern. Legolas, in other words, suffered in silence.
A soft crunching of footfalls came dimly to the elf's ears and he felt a warm haze of relief, Aragorn and the others were returning. Soon Gimli would have to put that terrible pipe away and the air would be clear once more. Gimli heard the noises moments later and hastily snatched the pipe from his mouth, emptying its contents to the ground and quickly scuffing dirt over the top to hide the glow of the embers. "Legolas!" greeted Aragorn brightly as he entered the camp, noting that his friend sat an unusual distance away from the others and the warmth of the fire. "You need the warmth of that fire also mellon nin, move closer and I will join you shortly." Dumping his armfuls of firewood unceremoniously to the ground he hastened to his friend's side, not able to shake the feeling as was not well with the elf.
"Are you well?" he questioned in what he hoped Legolas would take to be a nonchalant manner, but no such luck. Legolas' eyes narrowed suspiciously, "I am fine, Aragorn," he said straightening his posture, "You would do better if you paid more attention to your own health," he said indicating a slight scratch on one of Aragorn's arms that must have been done by a stray twig. Aragorn was about to say that it was nothing, which it was, when Gandalf intervened, "You never know what orcs might have left on trees around here Strider," he said with authority, "Let me see to it." Reluctantly Aragorn rose to his feet, 'I'll get you for this,' he mouthed at the smirking elf as he dragged himself to where Gandalf waited.
Gimli watched the human go. Aragorn had never really taken much to the dwarf, and for that Gimli blamed that accursed elf, filling the man's head with Elvish notions of superiority. Tricky creatures elves, Gimli mused, you should never trust them. Don't turn your back to one or they'll stab you as soon as look at you, he finished the thought with a sharp nod of his head and stood to his feet, passing the elf as he did so. "I'll get some extra firewood," he announced, "I notice you didn't bring much back with you today." He turned and began searching for his axe; he went practically nowhere without it.
" I shall come with you also," said Legolas, rising to his feet in one smooth motion, glad for the opportunity to move. His whole body ached dully and he head swam in a manner most unusual for elves, unless they were… sick. Legolas pushed that thought away roughly, he had sustained no injuries and elves did not just get sick like Middle-Earth's other inhabitants. Even so he swayed slightly on his feet as he stood and closed his eyes briefly, willing the ground to cease it's spinning. When he opened his eyes moments later he found seven pairs of concerned eyes focused upon him.
His eyebrows flying up into his hairline, he turned a questioning gaze upon them, "What?" he asked, his face and tone the picture of innocence. "You know what!" said Aragorn as Gandalf released him after seeing to his cut. He strode angrily towards the elf, "Elves do not sway nor look ill for no reason! What wound are you hiding now?" He reached Legolas' side and began to search the elf for signs of injury. Legolas gave an impatient snort, "I am fine, Aragorn! I just need food and rest. I have been on watch for the past five nights and my lack of sleep has caught up with me."
Legolas hated lying to his friend. Although he had been without sleep for the previous five nights he knew he could go much longer, that was not the cause for his present weakness. But as he had little or no idea what was, he did not want to alarm Aragorn. The man slowly released his grip on Legolas, "Very well," he said, his tone still slightly wary, "But you will not be on watch tonight! I will do that myself and you will sleep. For now take it easy and I will see how you fare in the morning." Legolas locked eyes with the man in a battle of wills, but after a little while he relented seeing the worry the ranger was making no effort to hide. "I concede." He said finally with a small roll of his eyes, "Although your precautions are unnecessary."
Swinging his bow lightly onto his back he turned to face the woods. "Now I am going to collect firewood." Without another word he walked past Aragorn and disappeared among the trees. "Stubborn elf," he muttered and was surprised as he heard the laughter from behind him. Turning he saw the rest of the fellowship laughing merrily, "Really," gasped Gandalf between chuckles, "the two of you are quite entertaining!" grinning his lopsided grin Aragorn settled among his friends to await the return of Legolas.
Unnoticed by anyone, Gimli slipped silently into the woods following the trail of the wood-elf.
Legolas wandered here and there, occasionally stooping to collect a dry twig from the leaf-littered ground. So intent was he on his task that he didn't hear the quiet footsteps of the dwarf behind him until it was too late.
Gimli approached the elf as silently as his dwarven feet would allow. He would show Legolas what it was truly like to be sick.
Legolas whirled suddenly hearing the snap of a twig behind him. With no time to turn and face his assailant he moved quickly, twisting his body through the air striking out with his left fist, catching the creature full in the face, then using his right leg he drove his attacker to the ground. Breathing lightly he turned so that his face hovered above his assailant's, who now lay flat on his back, his expression slowly changing from surprise to displeasure. "Gimli!" he cried, releasing his grip and pivoting lightly away. "What on Middle-Earth were you doing?" the dwarf rose slowly to his feet, his face turning purple with embarrassment and rage. "You broke my dose!" he shouted angrily, "Broke it!" Blood flowing down his face Gimli stalked out of the woods, the packet of sneezing powder he had been about to shake over the elf, lying forgotten on the woodland floor.
Aragorn started in shock as he heard the shouting in the woods, drawing his sword he ran forward, fearful that Legolas he been attacked, and in his weakened state too! Damn! He should never have let that elf out of his sight! He was surprised to find moments later that he was faced with Gimli, instead of an entire contingent of orcs, as the dwarf strode past him out of the wood, followed closely by a scowling Legolas. "Dat stupid elf broke my dose!" he yelled aloud to no-one in particular, Legolas scowled even deeper and replied equally angrily, " That dwarf tried to sneak up on me! To what end I do not know, but I took him to be the enemy."
Legolas had turned to Gandalf as he spoke, to explain why the dwarf was bleeding, but as he heard Gimli's snort of derision in response to his comment, he turned to face the dwarf once more. "He is lucky that I did not kill him," he said, his lip curling up in disdain. With a slightly muffled cry of outrage, Gimli started forward, hefting his axe, at the same time Legolas dropped into a fighting stance. Anything could have happened had Gandalf not reached them first, "Enough!" he cried stepping between the two and stretching out his arms. "Both of you are behaving despicably!" he chastised and both Legolas and Gimli had the grace to look at the floor. "Legolas, I am ashamed that you responded in such a manner to Gimli's provoking, you should know better." The elf blushed faintly, but met Gandalf's gaze unfalteringly, with his brilliant blue eyes. Gandalf turned towards Gimli, " As for you Master Dwarf! What possessed you to go after Legolas in the woods, and then to provoke him such? You should be deeply ashamed of your actions this night Gimli, son of Gloin!"
With no further word, Gandalf grasped the arm of the dwarf and led him away to see to his injured feature. Hesitantly, Aragorn approached his friend. "Legolas?" the elf turned angry and ashamed eyes on his friend, "What now?" he snapped, his words having more a bite to them than he intended. Aragorn flinched and backed up a step, unsure how to proceed, the elf never normally got angry.
Legolas let out a deep sigh. What was wrong with him today? There had been no reason the snap at Aragorn. Legolas placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and fixed his weary gaze on the Ranger. "I am sorry, mellon nin. I don't know what's wrong with me today. Forgive me." The elf's voice held such an exhausted edge that Aragorn hurried to reassure him, "There is nothing to forgive. Come sit, Boromir and I are anxious for your company." Smiling gently, Legolas allowed his friend to lead him towards the comfort of the fire.
Gimli watched bitterly as Aragorn pushed the elf down onto a bedroll by the fire and joined Boromir and the hobbits in talking and laughing with the worn-out being. Gimli's glare was dark, he had been playing an innocent prank and where did that leave him? Tended to by a cold Gandalf while the elf was surrounded by pity! That elf was going to get it, thought Gimli, and he knew exactly how to do it. Once Gandalf had declared his poor nose sufficiently bandaged Gimli made his way over to the fire, where the other members of the Fellowship lay sleeping. Legolas was curled up between Aragorn and Boromir, his breathing deep and even, his eyes squeezed shut.
This was a new sight to the dwarf, though it was a welcome one. From the day he had first known the elf, Legolas had slept with his eyes open, and it had made him feel most uncomfortable, like he was constantly being watched. Gimli smiled, not a particularly nice smile. It was well the elf's eyes were shut this night, he wanted no one to see what he was about to do. Rummaging deep in his pack Gimli brought out a hand full of pipe-weed, and, grinning maliciously, tossed it into the flames, where a puff of smoke rose up almost immediately. Gimli grinned, let the elf sleep through that he thought. With any luck he would get no rest at all. Revenge is sweet, thought Gimli silently before the darkness claimed him also.
Aragorn was first to awaken the next morning. Stretching his limbs carefully he opened his eyes slowly to the glare of sunlight about him. It was a beautiful morning. Rolling onto his side he saw with some satisfaction that the elf next to him still slept, his eyes locked shut in slumber… wait a minute… Legolas' eyes were shut? That should not be so unless… unless Legolas was sick, or worse, dead! With a shock of alarm Aragorn flew upright, his hands fastening onto the shoulders of the elf, "Legolas!" he cried, "Mellon nin, wake up!" His shout aroused all others around the, now, embers of the fire in their midst. Gandalf was kneeling next to the prone fair being in moments, checking his vital signs and pulse. Legolas' breathing was shallow and ragged and his pulse was weak and erratic under Gandalf's seeking fingers. "He is fading, Aragorn," whispered the wizard, his voice soft with sorrow, "And I do not know why."
Aragorn moaned in pain and leaned over Legolas' body, holding the elf close to his chest and rocking slightly. Only Boromir, who was nearest to the ranger, could hear the words he whispered to the unconscious elf, "Please, my friend, hold on. We cannot loose you, not now, not like this. Don't leave me, please…" he continued to whisper, but the words faded from Boromir's hearing. Silently the son of the steward of Gondor, moved closer, hoping to somehow help the Prince and his stricken friend, by his nearness. The hobbits too, pressed close, whispering to elf, begging and pleading with him to wake up, Pippin even offered Legolas his last bag of pipe-weed (his most prized possession, unaware of how loathsome it was to the elf,) if he would but open his eyes.
Gimli was left on the outskirts, a heavy weight of dread beginning to pull at his mind. This was all his fault. It must be the pipe-weed that is making Legolas sick, thought the dwarf, closing his eyes as guilt hit him hard. He had paid a terrible price for his revenge, and now so would the elf. He cast his eyes sorrowfully over Legolas, who lay limply in Aragorn's grasp, his eyes absorbing the faint sheen of sweat that coated the fair being's body and the rough edge to his breathing. All his fault. If this elf was to die… not only would the rest of the fellowship never forgive him, but also he would never forgive himself.
Steeling himself for their reaction the dwarf began kicking dirt and debris over the fire, stopping the noxious fumes from the pipe-weed that still burned at it's centre. Gandalf looked up at Gimli's actions, "What are you doing Gimli?" he questioned, his voice angrier than usual in annoyance at the dwarf and worry for Legolas. Aragorn did not even glance up, so intent was he on the unresponsive elf in his arms. "Pipe-weed… fell in the fire… wasn't meant to…" Gimli muttered half his words inaudible to the hearing of the wizard. "Pipe-weed?" Gandalf questioned grimly, his voice holding a hard edge. "Are you saying that you put pipe-weed into the fire, even knowing the effect it has on Legolas?" Gimli gave a half-hearted nod and was about to fully explain his actions, when Pippin spoke up, "Pipe-weed makes Legolas sick?" he questioned, clarifying what he had overheard between Gandalf and Gimli. At Gandalf's curt nod and look of fury at Gimli, Pippin let out a huge breath. "So that's why he always coughed so much… I did wonder." He murmured sadly, mostly to himself, but Gandalf overheard. "Have there been further incidents involving Legolas and pipe-weed Pippin?" Gandalf spoke urgently, "Answer quickly. This could explain Legolas' condition." Pippin swallowed nervously and, at a nudge from Merry, continued, "Yes. Almost every night, when you collected firewood, Gimli would get out his pipe. None of us were aware it would hurt Mr Legolas," Said Pippin sorrowfully. "I would never have let Gimli if I knew that. But then I don't think any of us knew the effect it would have."
At Pippin's words Gandalf bowed his head and the entire camp fell silent. Boromir put a comforting hand on Aragorn's shoulder and was surprised to find it shaking. Believing the ranger to be sobbing in grief he moved closer to offer some comfort, when Strider erupted from his crouched position, placing Legolas gently into Boromir's arms. "You stupid dwarf! You might have killed him! What were you thinking!" He began an advance to where Gimli stood, his hands balling into fists, his voice shaking in rage barely held in check. The dwarf held his ground, "I never liked the elf, that much you all know," he bellowed at the oncoming Aragorn, "But I am no killer! If I had known the extent of it's effect I would never have done it!" Aragorn stopped a few feet away from the dwarf, who met his gaze evenly, "I am deeply sorry for my actions and I want Legolas to live."
As the dwarf spoke his voice trembled slightly and Aragorn was forced to hear the sincerity behind his words. He advanced no further, and just simply stood, his chest heaving with barely held in sobs, staring off into middle distance. No one in the camp moved, all were too stunned by what had just happened and what might have just occurred. They were saved the task of breaking the silence, by a moan from Legolas. Immediately the camp was bustling with movement as every member of the Fellowship hastened to his side.
Aragorn was there first, gently taking the elf back from Boromir, he cradled him close. Reaching out with one hand he brushed away the stray locks of hair that clung to the clammy skin of the elf. Pressing the back of his hand to the elf's forehead he felt the heat radiating from the translucent skin, and shifted his stance as Legolas moved slightly in his grip. "Aragorn…" he murmured, delirious with fever. Aragorn held him closer and the elf's eyes locked onto his. A soft sigh escaped his lips. He was glad Aragorn was here, at the end of all things… "Namárië, nin mellon. Morth tolo. Goodbye my friend. Darkness comes…"Legolas' voice was weak and sorrowful, as if this was something he did not want to say, but was forced to. Aragorn tightened his arms around the elf and moved closer his heart almost breaking from grief, "No! No Legolas, don't! Fight it as you have so many times before! Urin dant-mina dae. Do not fall into shadow."
He pressed his forehead against the elf's and the words he had yet to say stuck on his tongue as he felt Legolas go lax in his grasp. His eyes flew open to lock onto the closed lids of the elf in his arms. He could no longer feel the ragged breathing pressing against his arms. Legolas was still. "NO!" the cry ripped itself from Aragorn's lips as Legolas lay silent and still, his chest no longer heaving for air. "LEGOLAS!" Aragorn shrieked, his eyes wild, he gave the elf in his arms a frantic shake. Rising to his feet he brought Legolas up with him holding on tight to what he was certain was now the life-less body of his best friend. A small hand on his arm distracted him and he paused momentarily in his sobbing to swipe it away.
The hand was insistent and blearily Aragorn turned to face its owner. Pippin stared up at him, "Strider, he's not dead!" Aragorn blinked once in disbelief and stared down at the hobbit incredulously. "Yes he is." He said, his voice thick with tears. Pippin shook his head fiercely, "No, Strider he sleeps. Look!" Aragorn finally decided to indulge the hobbit, after all the death of Legolas would hit them all hard. If Pippin wanted to believe that Legolas still lived it was a fantasy in which many would happily indulge. Aragorn looked down.
The fair being in his arms stirred faintly, his chest rising and falling evenly, even if he still ran a raging temperature. Tears that had previously been unable to fall now ran easily down Aragorn's weathered cheeks. "Legolas?" he whispered softly and the elf in his arms stirred again. Blearily a pair of blue eyes opened and locked onto the silver one above him, "Aragorn." Legolas' whisper was faint, but it was enough to convince the ranger that Legolas truly lived. Crushing the elf to him as tightly as he dared without injuring him further, he whispered gently into the pointed ear, "I though I had lost you. Never do that again." Legolas gave a weak laugh and smiled gently at the ranger, "I am not so easily got rid of, human. But I can make no promises. You always get me into trouble…" he smiled again and his eyes drifted shut as he fell into a peaceful slumber to help his body heal.
Aragorn did not release his grip until he had double-checked the elf's vital signs and laid him gently back onto his bedroll. This accomplished Aragorn sat back wearily, his hand never leaving the elf's. He sighed softly and felt Gimli's presence at his shoulder. The dwarf did not say a word, and for that Aragorn was glad, he felt as if his heart had just been shattered and then, without warning, repaired so that it felt like it had never broken. Even the slightest noise could unbalance that mend at the moment.
Gimli leaned over Aragorn apprehensively, he had to make sure that Legolas truly lived. The elf still lay unmoving on the ground, but his breathing was now deep and regular. Gimli sighed, a weight of tension relieved from his mind. Gandalf stepped up behind him and Gimli turned, ready to offer his most profuse apologies but Gandalf silently shook his head. Now was not the time, Legolas was not out of danger yet.
It was the early hours of the next morning before Legolas' fever finally broke. The entire time, Gimli had not left the inner circle of the fire, ready to help with whatever they may need. He had fetched firewood, soaked clothes and heated water non-stop for the past twenty-four hours and only now was some of Aragorn's hostility towards him beginning to wear off. The ranger had seen the way the dwarf had not slept, much as he himself had not, and had witnessed the true concern in the dwarf's gaze when he looked at Legolas. Aragorn decided that Gimli had paid enough. It was time that he should be forgiven, but not right now.
Aragorn's limbs were stiff and aching and worry for his friend had taken a heavy toll on him, both physically and mentally. Now that the danger was finally past weariness descended like a cloud on his body and he sank wearily to the floor. He would make amends with Gimli when he had rested. At the moment he could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence.
Gimli watched as Aragorn sank to the ground next to Legolas, not making eye contact with the dwarf at all. Gimli suppressed a defeated sigh. All that work and Aragorn still would not forgive him. Could the man not see how deeply he now regretted his actions? The elf slept peacefully and Gimli gazed for along time into his serene and beautiful face. How could his actions have all gone so horribly wrong that he had nearly killed a member of the Fellowship through his own carelessness and prejudice?
Gimli shook his head, disgusted with himself. Stepping carefully around the sleeping ranger Gimli knelt next to the unconscious elf, "Lad, I'm so sorry. I did not mean for this to happen. I hope you can find it in your heart someday to forgive a foolish old dwarf his stupid mistake. I'll leave you be now, you'll never have to worry about me again." With those words Gimli turned, facing outwards, and marched away from the warm fire of the camp. He did not look back, so he did not see Legolas silently watching him leave.
Gimli walked all that day until the sun sank behind the clouds, staining the sky blood red. The dwarf's steps had been heavy, but he had made swift progress, and he now supposed himself to be at least a mile from the rest of the Fellowship. Gimli stopped as the sky grew dark and looked around at the foreboding eaves of the forest to the West. The branches and leaves stirred uneasily in the breeze and Gimli felt no compulsion to approach them. He had heard that elves shared a special bond with trees. If these trees knew how he had hurt Legolas, what would they do to him then? He shivered, no, he would make his camp far away from the forest and hope that the light of his fire would draw the attention of nothing living in under their boughs.
Legolas stood on the edges of the forest, watching as the dwarf made himself a fire. He had walked long that day, following the dwarf's progress. Alas, dwarves have no affinity with trees, so Gimli could not hear their warnings as Legolas could. As the dwarf had left camp that morning the trees had warned of orcs in the woods. The orcs were travelling in the opposite direction to the Fellowship, but from what Legolas had seen of Gimli's trajectory, he would walk straight into them. By the time Legolas had regained enough strength to stand or call out Gimli had disappeared even from Elven vision. Legolas had quickly decided the best course of action would be for him to follow. The rest of the Fellowship was exhausted, Legolas could see it in the way they slept, and they were in no danger from the orcs. Legolas left them resting and followed the Gimli's trail into the woods, leaving a note with Aragorn, telling of what had happened.
Silently Legolas stepped forward from the dark of the forest and headed over to Gimli to warn the dwarf of his danger. Gimli started at the sight of the elf and turned to face him. Legolas stepped quickly next to fire, letting the heat seep into him and chase away some of the unnatural cold that his weakened body had been unable to fight off. Hiding his slight shivering he turned to face the dwarf, who stared at him in shock. "Gimli there is danger in these woods. Orcs are heading in this direction, you cannot make camp here." For a moment it looked as if Gimli might believe him, but then the dwarf gave a snort, "And how do you know this Mr High and Mighty elf? Did a woodland birdie fly down and warn you?" Gimli was unable to keep the taunt from his voice. Shock at seeing the elf here and apparently quite well had left him unprepared for conversation. Not to mention how much like a know-it-all Legolas sounded.
Legolas winced at Gimli's comment, but he did not feel up to the challenge of responding, as he would have liked, with a similar insult. As it was he sighed tiredly and sank to his knees on the forest floor, the long day's walk, and his still not fully healed body combining against him and forcing him down. "Gimli, the warning is there. I came a very long way to tell you of it, so please listen to me." Despite his weariness his words held a sharp edge and Legolas sighed. He couldn't help it; this dwarf brought out the worst in him! Gimli harrumphed in annoyed manner and Legolas resisted the urge to sigh once more. Burying his head in his hands he gave a soft moan, he just couldn't cope with this right now, not with the stubbornness of that dwarf as well as his own body's weakness. His head was pounding so fiercely he did not hear the approach of the orcs until they burst out from the cover of the trees, swords and blades flying ahead of them.
Aragorn awoke in the middle of the afternoon and his first thought was of the welfare of Legolas. Flying upright he searched for the elf prince, his panic heightening, as he found no trace. He felt a light touch against his hand and looked down to see a scrap of paper addressed to him in Legolas' handwriting resting against his fist. He groaned, what was that elf up to now?
An axe whizzed next to Gimli's head and for once his short stature was an advantage as the weapon flew straight over, missing him by about two centimetres. There was to time to feel relief, however, as the next second an orc pressed in, driving a sweep of its morgul blade at Gimli's throat. Gimli deflected the swipe with a bash from his axe handle and another sweep of the axe severed the orcs head from its shoulders, where it rolled to a stop some feet away. But there were many more orcs to take its place and Gimli soon began to tire. Great, was his last thought as an orc came up behind him raising its sword for a lethal strike at his exposed throat, I'm about to die and I still haven't said a nice word to that elf.
Legolas was having his own problems. The first of his attackers he defeated easily, even in his weakened state, but as time wore on he began to tire more and more quickly. For every orc he slew another three took its place and their strikes were getting ever nearer to his flesh. There was barely enough time to turn, when an orc leapt on him from behind, pinning his arms and driving him to the ground. Twisting lightly as he fell Legolas easily crushed the orcs trachea, killing the creature instantly, but he could not twist out from underneath the body and it landed heavily on his still aching chest, driving all the air out and covering his vision in a blanket of stars. I'm sure they weren't there a minute ago, he thought dimly as one of the orcs that hazed in and out of his vision drove his sword down in a deadly strike for Legolas' stomach.
Aragorn burst into the clearing and loosed his first arrow at an orc bent over something with his sword raised. The orc fell dead instantly and Aragorn turned away satisfied. The rest of the Fellowship burst into the clearing moments later. Upon reading Legolas' note the ranger had informed them as quickly as possible and it had been decided, much to Aragorn's relief, to give chase directly. Boromir and Gandalf hurried over to help Gimli and Aragorn watched attentively, should they need any help. Once he was satisfied that Gimli was out of danger Aragorn turned his full attention on the battlefield to searching out his friend. The black orcs were everywhere and Aragorn could see only seven others fighting at his side. Where was Legolas?
The battle was finally over, though it had been short, much blood had been spilt and each member of the Fellowship had sustained an injury. The hobbits each had a small scrape, that Gandalf had tested fully for toxins and poison, before bandaging and they were now proudly comparing length width and depth of their battle wounds. Gandalf had taken a sharp blow to the head, which left him feeling slightly nauseous, but fortunately without concussion. Gimli had slight nick on his neck, that, while it bled profusely, was a minor matter, and Aragorn had sustained a gash that ran the length of his arm. He would let Gandalf see to it later though, now there was but one thing on his mind. Legolas. He had not seen the elf since they were back at camp, even though Gimli insisted he had been here. Aragorn's worry went up a notch and with a heavy heart he began searching the bodies that littered the bloodstained battlefield.
Legolas' head was swimming and it was hard to breathe. The weight of two dead orcs pressed down on his lungs and a morgul blade had at some point embedded itself in his thigh. His vision hazed and black spots swam in front of his eyes as his body screamed for oxygen. He uttered one word before his body went limp and he fell into darkness, whether death or unconsciousness he did not know, nor did he care so long as it took him away from all this pain. "Aragorn…"
The ranger heard the faint whisper and turned towards its source, just in time to see a pale hand fall limply to the forest floor. With a strangled cry Aragorn forced his way to his friend's side and pulled the two dead orcs away from on top of him. Fighting the nausea that came from his own wound, he knelt by the elf, his own eyes closing as he sank to the ground. "At least we go together…" he whispered before the darkness swallowed him also.
Gandalf saw Aragorn fall and hurried over to the unconscious ranger. He found Aragorn lying by the side of a very pale Legolas, and scooping Aragorn into his arms, he called for Boromir to retrieve Legolas. It was not Boromir, but Gimli who appeared at his side moments later, and with utmost care gathered the elf into his arms. He turned a fierce gaze on Gandalf, as if daring him to tell him to leave Legolas, and spoke with conviction. "He came all the way out here for me and I'm damn well going to see that he makes it back." The dwarf carried his precious burden like glass as they headed away from here to make camp for the night and see to their wounded. "I'll not let anything happen to you, Legolas." He whispered to the rapidly breathing being in his arms, "Nothing."
The world dipped and spun and stubbornly refused to regain focus when Legolas next opened his eyes three days later. It took the earth some minutes to remember its manners and hold still. With etiquette once again in place Legolas found sitting up somewhat easier. Looking to his left he found a bushy, concerned gaze met his. "Gimli?" he questioned unbelievingly, what on Middle-Earth was the dwarf doing in his tent? The dwarf smiled gently at the confusion in the Prince's eyes and gently pushed at the elf's shoulders until Legolas lay flat on the ground once more. "Aye, lad, it's Gimli. Good to see you're finally awake. You've had a three day sleep and we've all been worried sick."
Legolas tried in vain to absorb this new information, "We?" he questioned, still desperately confused. "You were worried too? Where is Aragorn? Are we back at camp-" Gimli cut off the Prince's questions with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Enough questions Master Elf! Give me chance to answer." Legolas quieted and waited for the dwarf to speak, believe it or not the events of the past few days had caused him to see to dwarf in a whole new light. "Now you're quiet, I can answer," said the dwarf calmly. "Of course I've been worried about you, Aragorn is in the tent next door sleeping off his own wound and we're at a new camp, not far from where you found me."
Legolas was silent as he took in this information, but moments later his brow creased, "What wound did Aragorn sustain? I must see him-" Legolas trailed off as he tried to sit up too fast and the world turned into a merry-go-round once more. "You're in no shape to be going anywhere," said the dwarf firmly. "Aragorn will be awake by tonight and I daresay he'll come visit you then." The dwarf scowled as Legolas aimed an evil glare at him. "Sleep, you stubborn elf! I'll see to it myself that Aragorn comes." Legolas' scowl faded slightly and he curled into himself turning onto his side, muttering something under his breath in Elvish that Gimli couldn't quite hear. Moments later his eyes were open and fixed and he was lost in Elvish dreams. The dwarf was momentarily stunned speechless. Not only had Legolas done as Gimli had told him, but it was painfully apparent that he still trusted the dwarf, even after all Gimli had done to him this past week. Gimli suddenly felt incredibly protective over his elven companion and he felt he had never been happier to see him sleep with his eyes open, he looked so young and vulnerable like that. Checking all around for anything that might wake the elf or cause him discomfort Gimli stood to his feet. Satisfied that the elf would be safe and undisturbed for a few minutes Gimli went to make good his promise to Legolas and talk to Gandalf about Aragorn visiting the elf.
Deep in slumber a small smile crossed Legolas' fair features. This was the start of a beautiful friendship.
In Meth
(The End)
A/N: I would like to apologise for the delay in posting this story, it took me quite a while longer than I expected! Also, if you like this story please, please review – I would love to hear from you. Constructive criticism is also appreciated