Sometimes Healers Need Healing Too

Summary: Aragorn and Gimli devise a plan to help Legolas overcome the sea-longing. The plan, however, goes much deeper than it seems.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to the great professor. No profit is made through this story, except my own enjoyment, and hopefully yours as well. All I own is the rabbit stew, but it is quite good, so you are welcome to have some.

Note: Written for Teitho Challenge "Healing". Placed third. (Oh well… there were two first and two second places so it's technically fifth, but still… :-D). Thanks to everyone who voted!

Dinner at the Golden Hall of Edoras was lively and cheerful, the plates were full of exquisite meals and wine was plentiful. Éomer's mind, however, could not stay on the food for a long time and his eyes often drifted towards his guest.

"Not that I mind your visit, Aragorn," he finally said, "but you have not yet told me the true reason behind your arrival."

King Elessar looked up from his plate and met his gaze. "Does a man need a reason to visit a good friend, Éomer?" He asked.

The King of Rohan laughed. "Unfortunately, a king often does. As much as I would love to travel whenever I wanted and visit my loved ones abroad, it is hard to leave my duties behind, and I always come up with a good reason to relieve my conscience. So what reason did you come up with this time, my friend?"

Aragorn hesitated. "To be honest, I was hoping to see Gimli here."

Éomer grinned. "I knew you were not merely visiting a good friend!" His grinned broadened when he noticed that Aragorn was looking down guiltily. "Worry not," he continued. "Lord Gimli has been informed of your arrival and is expected to be in Edoras by tomorrow morning."

Aragorn sighed in relief. He repeated the dwarf's letter in his mind, and his worries returned tenfold. The message he had received was short and to the point.

We need to talk.

Gimli

The man had to admit that he was not truly surprised. Gimli was rarely generous with words and often said only what needed to be said, skipping all unnecessary formalities. This letter, however, had troubled him greatly. It was simple, and yet he felt that it was laden with great urgency. The king's heart would truly feel lighter if he knew what Gimli wanted to tell him. As it was, he could only imagine that it could not be anything good.

-:-

Soon after breakfast on the following day the arrival of The Lord of the Glittering Caves was announced. Aragorn resisted the urge to rush out of the room and meet Gimli as soon as it was physically possible, even before he had entered. Finally, with the use of great self-discipline, he managed to gain control over his body. Soon the gates opened and the dwarf strode into the hall.

"Well met, Lord Gimli," Éomer greeted him with a smile. "How do you fare? Is everything well in the Glittering Caves?"

"Fine, fine," Gimli replied impatiently. "All is well and many of my kin have already moved to the caves although some still reside in Erebor. But this is not why I am here. I came here to speak to the lad," he said quickly and waved his hand in Aragorn's direction.

Some of the Gondorian warriors who had come to Rohan to escort their king raised eyebrows and exchanged shocked glances. Their eyes turned towards their liege, clearly expecting the dwarf to be punished for his insolence. Aragorn laughed instead.

"I would love to speak to you, my friend, but surely you do not wish to be impolite towards out host," he said and nodded at Éomer.

The King of Rohan smiled. "Oh, no, Aragorn, I am not at all offended. In fact, I believe it is a good idea for you and Gimli to have a talk." Éomer's eyes locked with Gimli's and for a moment Aragorn had the feeling that something unspoken passed between the two. He frowned in confusion but decided to think about that later.

"Come," Gimli grabbed Aragorn's arm and practically dragged him out of the room. They entered a nearby chamber and the man whirled around to face his friend.

"What happened, Gimli?" He all but cried. He could hardly control his worry anymore.

"It's the Elf," Gimli murmured softly. Aragorn nodded and let the dwarf continue. He had a thing or two to say about "the Elf", but decided to let his friend speak first.

"Remember when Éomer visited you in Minas Tirith two months ago?" The man nodded again and Gimli went on. "I rode with him until he reached Gondor. I did not follow to Minas Tirith, however, but continued to Ithilien instead. This is why we did not meet then."

Aragorn was not surprised. He knew that Gimli would have wanted to see Legolas first. "I remember, Gimli," he said. "But what is wrong? Why did you wish to speak with me?"

"What is wrong?" Gimli cried. "What is wrong? I will tell you what is wrong!" The dwarf looked at the man who seemed slightly startled by his sudden outburst and continued in a softer voice. "His laughter is not the same anymore, Aragorn! His eyes do not shine the way they used to! He speaks to you and then his face turns blank and he gazes west, as if looking at something that only he can see. Nothing is the same after he heard those blasted gulls! He is suffering, dying inside! We need to help him!"

Aragorn sat on a sofa and bowed his head. He did not need to ask who 'he' was. "I know of what you speak, Gimli, for I have seen it many times. I want to help him, you have no idea how much I want to help him! I have even told him that he should give in to the longing and sail. Yes, it would break my heart to watch him go, but if it makes him happy, I would do it. And yet, he refuses. He is determined to stay here for as long as I live, but I fear that he will never feel true joy again. I do not know what to do, Gimli!" He buried his face in his hands and sighed heavily. For so many mouths he had been worried about Legolas, and now he finally had someone to talk to. But he doubted that any talking would help the elf.

"Perhaps there is a way to make him feel better," Gimli said hopefully.

Aragorn slowly shook his head. "No Gimli. I do not know how to explain the sea-longing to you, and I do not even think I understand it myself. But something I know is that it cannot be healed. It is like an old wound – no matter how many seasons pass, it will always be there. And it will always hurt."

"But an old wound could be treated too," the dwarf said. "True, it can never heal, but if you often apply healing salve to it, herbs and calming balms, it will not hurt that much. Perhaps the pain could even go away completely for a few short hours before it comes back once again."

"Of what salve do you speak?" Aragorn asked, his interest suddenly sparkled. "What could we do to lessen his pain?"

"We need to remind him of the times past," Gimli said. "We need to take him out and away from his duties for a while. Take him to his beloved forests, make him hear the birds and the trees once again! Let him remember the song of the forest and forget the song of the sea! Let us be the Three Hunters once again!"

Aragorn had risen on his feet. "You are right, Gimli!" He said enthusiastically. "This might help him! At least we have to try."

"We will!" The dwarf cried. "Let us set for Ithilien as soon as we are ready. Are you able to leave Minas Tirith for a few days?"

"I am sure I will find a way. I will send a message to Faramir at once. But, tell me Gimli, you said you had last seen Legolas two months ago. Why do you send for me now and not earlier?"

"Ah, it is just that I have been trying to come up with the best way to help Legolas. This idea came to me only a few days ago."

Aragorn suddenly frowned in suspicion. The dwarf had hesitated briefly before answering and there was something in his voice that made the man feels as if Gimli was hiding something. But what it was, he could not guess, and he decided to worry about this later.

-:-

Strangely, Éomer did not appear at all disappointed that Aragorn was leaving so soon. If the King of Gondor had not known better, he would have thought that Éomer actually wanted him to leave. Of course, he knew that this was not possible.

As they left, the King of Rohan and Gimli had exchanged a long look and a grin. Aragorn had observed them carefully. He was certain that those two knew something that he did not and were keeping it from him, but what it was he could not begin to guess.

They rode swiftly since Gimli had surprisingly agreed to share a horse with the man, and even more surprisingly the King had managed to persuade his escort to let him go on his own. Both Rohan and Gondor were quite safe, so neither the dwarf nor the man was greatly concerned about their safety.

After a long and a tiring ride, especially for Gimli, they finally reached the fair woods of Ithilien. Several elves spotted them and sent a message to their lord, while the man and the dwarf stopped for another long rest.

The forest was serene, and the silence was only interrupted by the cheerful voices of the numerous small birds and the happy song of a nearby stream. The serenity was soon shattered, however, by a cry of pure delight, and a golden-haired elf jumped from his steed and ran towards the duo. "What brings you here, my friends?" The elf asked after heartily embracing each one in greeting. "I had not expected to see you." And indeed he had not expected to see either of them. Rohan was far away, especially for someone who disliked riding as much as Gimli did, and the dwarf did not visit often. Aragorn's visits were not frequent either. The king had taken his responsibilities to heart and rarely left Minas Tirith. Sadly, after he had been crowned king, Aragorn had never left the White City for more than a day except when he was on a diplomatic mission abroad. This was something new for the former ranger, and Legolas was surprised that his friend was managing well with his new life.

But the greatest source of the elf's joy was that since the War of the Ring had ended he had never seen Aragorn and Gimli together. This was the first time that both of them had come to visit him, and for this he was immeasurably glad. He only hoped that they had come because they had both decided to take a break from their duties, and not because something was wrong. Aragorn's troubled sigh at his question, however, quickly dispelled all his hopes.

The man and the dwarf exchanged a brief glance. They had both seen it – there was joy in their friend's voice, there was a sparkle in his eyes, and yet something was missing. Some note in his voice that used to be there, but now was gone; some twinkle in his eyes that appeared every time the elf was happy, but had never returned after Pelargir. Yes, something was missing, but they were determined to get it back.

"I am afraid it is a grave reason that brings us here," Aragorn said and Legolas sobered immediately.

"What is it?"

The man sighed and looked down. "I lost something," he said. "Something precious to me. Something I would give my life to get back." He noticed that Legolas opened his mouth to ask a question and raised his hand to stop him. "I am sorry, mellon nîn, but I cannot tell you yet what it is, or I will never get it back. All I can tell you is that Gimli and I have set to find it, but I need your help. I will never get it back if you do not come with us."

The elf blinked in confusion. Now this was mysterious. What could this thing be that Aragorn would never get it back if he did not come? And why telling him what it was would prevent them from finding it? Did Gimli know what they were looking for, or was the dwarf just as oblivious? Worry ate at his heart – what had his friend lost?

"Is it…" he started to ask but his throat constricted in fear. "Is it a person?" Ai Valar! Has Arwen been captured?

"No, Legolas, it is not a person, but it is something just as important," Aragorn said. "But as I said, I cannot tell you yet what it is, or I will never get it back. You will learn soon, but until then I will ask you to be patient."

Legolas nodded although his fear and confusion were only growing. What was this thing that was as precious as a person and Aragorn would give his life to have it back? How were they going to find it? "What must I do?" He asked out loud.

"If you wish to help, come with us," Aragorn said. "We must travel in the direction of Umbar, but we must not take any horses and will travel on foot."

"Of course I wish to help you!" Legolas cried although his confusion was constantly growing. Why did they need to travel on foot? "I can leave early tomorrow morning, but first I need to make some arrangements for my absence."

"Tomorrow morning is good," the man said. "I will also speak to Faramir while I am here. He will have to travel to Minas Tirith and stay there while I am gone."

Gimli walked to his elven friend and patted him on the arm. "Do not worry, laddie, it is not as bad as it sounds. We will recover what is lost."

Legolas frowned – did Gimli know what they were looking for? Was he the only one kept in the dark? And why Umbar? Had the Corsairs stolen something? He knew, however, that he would not be able to solve the mystery without additional information and decided to postpone his musing for later. The sooner they set to this trip, the sooner they would recover this lost object.

-:-

They departed from Ithilien on the next morning, and Faramir and Éowyn came to bid them farewell. The Steward and his wife would leave for Minas Tirith soon after their departure. For a brief second the Steward and the King locked gazes, and Legolas could have sworn that Faramir was grinning conspiratorially. What was happening? If Aragorn had lost something so important, why did no one appear worried?

With a sigh of surrender the elf gave up trying to solve the mystery and followed his friends in the woods. The first few hours he was feeling rather tense and lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out what had happened. Soon, however, his friends' cheerful banter persuaded him that whatever had happened, the situation was not as dire as he had thought initially, and he joined the light-hearted conversations.

Ah, it was good to be together with his friends! And it was so good to be the Three Hunters once again – not the King of Gondor and Arnor, the Lord of the Glittering Caves, and the Lord of Ithilien, but the Man, the Dwarf, and the Elf. Just like before –

– before he had heard it. The cry of the seagulls had changed him beyond repair, it had robbed him of all joy he could feel in Middle-earth. And he knew – the problem was not that Aragorn was a king now, or that Gimli resided in Rohan, or that he himself had duties in Ithilien. The true problem was that he was different. The little birds in the fair woods kept singing, the trees kept rustling their leaves, whispering him soft words of comfort, but he could hear their songs no more. All he could hear was the deafening roar of the distant waves and the fateful cry of the gulls.

He had noticed the worried glances Gimli and Aragorn exchanged every time he grew quiet and his gaze wandered beyond the horizon. Ai, he did not wish to scare them! He wanted to reassure his friends, to tell them that he was well… but he had no reassurance to give.

-:-

It was their third night after they had left Ithilien, and the trio was preparing to go to sleep. They were still in South Gondor and the woods were safe, so they did not think it necessary to put watches. About an hour after they had lain down, however, Aragorn suddenly rose from his bedroll and crawled to Gimli, shaking the dwarf awake.

"Shh, we quiet, Gimli, we do not want to wake him up!" He whispered urgently and looked briefly at the elf to make sure that he was still sleeping. "There is something we need to discuss!"

"What is it?" The dwarf yawned tiredly and rubbed his eyes. "And cannot we talk about it next morning?"

"Not unless we want Legolas to hear," the man whispered in return.

This finally got the dwarf's attention and Gimli blinked a few times before staring at the man, fully awake at last. "What is it?"

"This is not working," Aragorn said sadly. "Obviously, Legolas seems more relaxed than he did in Ithilien – I even heard him singing to a tree yesterday, and I think this trip with us is doing him some good. But I cannot see this great improvement we have been hoping for. The time has come for more drastic measures."

"What do you suggest?" Gimli asked softly, throwing the sleeping elf a quick glance.

"We need to do something that will remind him of the times past. Remember when the two of you were competing who would kill more orcs? Something like that. A little contest in battle skills would do wonders to improve his spirits."

"Only that there are no orcs here," Gimli pointed out the little flaw in their plan.

"This is true," Aragorn agreed. "After the War I have worked hard to drive these foul creatures away, and unfortunately I have succeeded. Chances that we will meet with any orcs are rather slim."

"Unfortunately indeed," Gimli murmured. "Good word choice here. But if there are no orcs, what contest could we make?"

"I think that any competition with you will do him good," the man said. "Just try to think of some way you can challenge him."

"Like what?" The dwarf asked, feeling at a loss.

"Running competition?" Aragorn suggested, but Gimli snorted dismissively. The man sighed. They needed something that would give the elf and dwarf equal chances to win. "I suppose tree climbing is out of the question as well. Swimming perhaps? There is a lake we will be reaching tomorrow, perhaps you can challenge him there."

"I am not challenging the elf to a swimming competition! Nor a shooting competition or anything of the sort. Why does it have to be me anyway? Cannot you challenge him to a sparring match – your sword against his knives perhaps?"

Aragorn shook his head. "It needs to be you. It was you he was competing against in the past, when you were counting how many orcs you have slain."

"Well, we are not fighting anyone now, so I cannot do that!" Gimli murmured angrily. "In case you have failed to notice, all we have been doing is walking, hunting, cooking and eating!"

The man sighed. Gimli was right – this was all they had been doing for the past three days, and although they enjoyed their time together, those activities presented little opportunities for competition. A hunting contest was out of question – for an elf every life was precious and killing an animal needlessly was unthinkable. They only killed what they needed to eat and nothing more. Eating… yes, perhaps Gimli could challenge Legolas to an eating contest, but Aragorn doubted that this would be a fine idea. This left only one possibility.

"Cooking!" He announced triumphantly.

"What?" Gimli asked, not following his friend's thoughts.

"You will challenge Legolas to a cooking contest," the man explained, sounding pleased. "He will have a great desire to win and prove to you that elves are better cooks. And thus he will pour all his energy into this contest and will forget his present troubles, at least for a while!"

"Cooking?" The dwarf did not sound convinced. "Do you think I could beat him?"

Aragorn suppressed a smile. "This is not the point, Gimli," he said patiently. "You will not be doing this to win or lose, but to help Legolas heal."

The dwarf stubbornly crossed his arms across his chest. "I am doing anything to help this brainless elf heal, but I am not loosing!" He announced.

The man sighed and decided to change the strategy. "But Gimli, you are not going to lose. We all know that you are the better cook."

The dwarf eyed him suspiciously. "Do you truly think so, or are you saying this to make me compete?"

"Of course I think so!" Aragorn said. "I have traveled for long years throughout Middle-earth, and I have never met better cooks than Dwarves, except Hobbits perhaps."

Gimli looked pleased to hear this, but still did not feel convinced. "But if you are right and I am the better cook, Legolas would never agree to compete against me. He would not want to lose."

"He will agree," the man stated with conviction. "If he does not, he will be acknowledging your victory without even putting up a fight. It is not in his nature." Gimli still looked hesitant and Aragorn knelt in front of him, placing his hands on the shorter being's shoulders. "Tell me, my friend, do you want to help Legolas?"

"Of course!" The dwarf cried. "How can you doubt this?"

"I do not doubt it," Aragorn said. "But what are you waiting for? Help him! He needs you."

Gimli nodded solemnly. "I will." He said, and his eyes were shining with determination. "But if I lose, it will be your fault."

-:-

Legolas was walking back towards their camp, carrying the two rabbits he had just caught. Curiously, both Gimli and Aragorn had woken up quite late in the morning and had appeared as if they had not gotten much sleep last night. This made no sense since it had been a quiet night and a good weather, and Legolas had slept like a baby. There was no good reason for his friends' lack of sleep, but he had decided to let the matter drop and had helpfully offered to do the hunting while the two rested.

When he returned, he saw that Aragorn had already started a small fire going. "Well done, Legolas," he said when he noticed the rabbits. "Hand them here and lunch will be ready soon."

"Thank Valar!" Gimli exclaimed suddenly, throwing Aragorn a relieved glance. "For a moment I feared that he would be doing the cooking!" He added, pointing at the elf.

Legolas froze in his tracks and frowned at the dwarf. "What was that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, nothing," Gimli said cheerfully and took a puff from his pipe. "It is just that I do not enjoy food cooked by Elves too much."

Legolas resisted the urge to drop the rabbits in shock and raised his eyebrows. "And I suppose you could cook better, Master Dwarf?" He asked, his voice sweet as honey.

"Gimli, there is no need to-" Aragorn stood up and reached out to stop Gimli, as if trying to bring some peace.

"Leave me be, Aragorn!" The dwarf said angrily and brushed off the man's hand. "The Elf just insulted my cooking abilities!"

"As if there are any abilities to insult!" Legolas said with a grin.

"Oh, there are, and they are far greater than your own cooking abilities!" Gimli cried and glared at his friend.

"Fine!" Legolas said and tossed one of the rabbits towards the dwarf. Aragorn noticed a sparkle in the elf's eyes, a sparkle he had not seen in a long time and had believed lost forever, and it pleased him greatly to see it back. "You cook this one and I will cook the other. Let us see which one is better."

"Good!" Gimli agreed and grabbed the rabbit. Their plan was going quite well so far. "But how will we decide who the winner is?"

Legolas furrowed his brows in thought, just now realizing that he had not thought about that. How could they reach an objective decision about who the better cook was? And then a sudden thought occurred to him. "Aragorn will be the judge," he suggested. "He will taste both of our dishes and will say which one is better."

The man paled and took a step back. This was not going according to plan! He certainly did not want to get involved in this way – no matter whose dish he would prefer, the one who lost would see his judgment as personal betrayal and would repay him in kind. To accept this would be like signing his own death verdict! "No, I do not think this is a good idea-" he mumbled miserably.

"Why not?" Gimli asked. "I think it is wonderful! Let us start!"

Aragorn gulped nervously and watched in fearful anticipation as his friends skinned the rabbits and started rummaging through their packs to find all pots, pans, and additional food – vegetables and spices – that they might need. Legolas choose to make a rabbit stew with carrots and mushrooms, while Gimli decided to bake his rabbit with some potatoes.

Finally both cooks were ready and presented their food to the reluctant judge with smug smiles. Aragorn tried to control the slight shaking of his hand and took the offered spoon and fork, tasting both dishes in turn.

They were both quite good, for a food prepared in the wilds at least. It was nothing fancy such as the food prepared by hobbits or by the royal cooks in Minas Tirith, but both were dishes that he would gladly eat. Perhaps he liked Gimli's baked rabbit a bit more, but both were about equally good. That left him with only one choice – he had to decide which choice would result in less painful outcome for him and then he would judge accordingly.

Gimli would never forgive him if he preferred Legolas's meal. 'If I lose, it will be your fault,' the dwarf had said. Moreover, he was the one who had made Gimli compete. However, Legolas would never forgive him either if he said that the dwarf was better than him in something. His revenge would surely be great. Now the question was which one of his friends would kill him in a less painful way…

Aragorn looked down at the plates, avoiding his friends' expectant gazes. Something told him that Legolas would be more creative in his revenge. The elf then. Legolas would be the winner.

Fool! A little voice inside his head screamed angrily. This is not about you, it is about Legolas! Do not choose what will be less painful for you, but choose what would help him heal better!

And then he knew that Gimli had to be the winner. If Legolas lost, his fighting spirit would be motivated and would return stronger than ever, ready to strike back. True, the elf would never forgive him, but this was not about him after all…

"Gimli," he murmured barely audibly, still hesitant to look up. "Gimli's meal is better."

The dwarf gave out a cry of triumph, while Legolas froze in shock. "What did you say?" He finally asked in an icy voice.

"I said that Gimli is the winner," Aragorn repeated, sounding slightly more determined this time although his heart was pounding wildly in his chest. "He is the better cook."

"Are you sure?" Legolas asked. "Maybe you should take a second bite?"

"I am sure," Aragorn said and finally found the courage to look up. He immediately regretted it as he noticed that the elf's eyes were narrowed to mere slits.

Legolas stood frozen for a moment and took several deep breaths. Finally he turned around and faced his opponent. "This was a good contest, Gimli, thank you and I congratulate you for your victory." Then he turned back and glared at Aragorn. "And now I want to have a contest with you!"

The man's eyes widened in surprise. "A cooking contest?" The elf nodded. "But… but we have already used the rabbits…"

"We can use what we have brought with us," Legolas said and reached for his pack. "Potatoes, cabbage, onion, celery, beans, mushrooms… no meat, but we can still test our abilities. Come now, Aragorn, would you not do me this honor?" The elf's voice was still as cold as ice and it made the man shudder.

"This sounds like a fine idea to me," Gimli said, and Aragorn glared at him. "See," he added as Legolas left to fill his pan with water at a nearby stream, "he seems to be doing much better. I believe this helped him, and his contest with you will further add to his healing."

"You know that this makes you the judge now," the man murmured and Gimli nodded. "It will be better for him if you make me the winner. This will make his spirit fight back and he will heal faster."

"Of course, of course," Gimli said hastily and nodded to his left. Legolas was returning. It was time.

Man and elf cooked in silence, occasionally exchanging wary glances. Gimli was watching them, looking pleased with himself and puffing his pipe contently. Finally, the competitors were ready and proudly presented their meals.

Gimli took his time and ate quite a bit from both dishes, obviously reveling in the good food. Finally, he sat back and stretched. "This is a hard choice," he said. "But I have to say that Legolas is the winner. His meal tastes better."

The elf grinned smugly and Aragorn gaped in shock. "What-what-why?" He muttered as Legolas walked away. "We decided that I should win."

"I am sorry, laddie." Gimli smiled apologetically. "But I had to think about my own safety first. That elf looked quite murderous. I do not wish to imagine what he would have done to me if I had chosen your dish over his." He saw that Aragorn was about to protest, and raised his hand to silence him. "Shh! Before you say something, just look at him!"

Aragorn turned around and gasped. Legolas was leaning against a tree, gazing at a little bird flying after a tiny butterfly. And on his lips was the most brilliant smile the man had seen on his friend's face since that fateful day at Pelargir. The reason behind this smile, the man knew, was much, much more than simply the elf's recent victory. Legolas was remembering. He was remembering what it meant to enjoy the good times with his friends.

And this smile was worth everything they had gone through that day.

-:-

The three friends made good progress and by the evening they had reached the lake Aragorn had mentioned last night. After finishing what was left of their tasty meals, they laid down their bedrolls and prepared to go to sleep. After about an hour, however, Gimli felt a hand urgently shaking him awake. "What is it this time?" He murmured sleepily.

"It worked!" Aragorn said excitedly. "Did you see his eyes? It worked!"

"Yes, I did see them and I share your joy, but this is hardly a reason to wake me up," the dwarf mumbled unhappily.

"We have to do it again!" The man said.

Gimli stood up and stared at his friend as if he had gone mad. "Again? Challenge the elf to a cooking contest again?"

"No, not cooking," Aragorn said, "but we can think of something else. Are you sure you do not want a swimming contest in the lake?"

"I said no swimming!"

"As you wish." Aragorn took out his pipe and lit it. It helped him think. "I have an idea," he finally said, beaming. "You will climb a tree!"

"What?" Gimli stared at him, clearly doubting his sanity.

"You will climb a tree," the man explained. "This will amuse him."

"Amuse him?" The dwarf cried in outrage. "Amuse him! Who do you think I am, your Majesty? The royal clown?"

"Peace, Gimli!" The man said, laughing. "I did not mean that. But maybe you could climb a tree, and when he awakes in the morning, he will see you up there. Then you will cry at him that you could do anything an elf could do, including climbing trees; he will feel challenged again and will want to prove to you that he can do anything a dwarf can do, and-"

"Sounds reasonable," Gimli interrupted him, "but there is a slight problem. I cannot climb trees."

"This is not a problem," Aragorn said. "I will help you. When Legolas awakes, you will already be up there, and he will think that you have done it on your own. Besides, he will never suspect that I could have a reason to help you."

Gimli nodded thoughtfully. He did not like the idea much, but still could not resist the temptation of imagining Legolas's face as he grinned at him triumphantly from the top of the tree. "Then let us do it!" He said. "And we better start now. I am afraid this might take a while." He threw the sleeping elf a wary glance. "We have to be quiet."

"Worry not," Aragorn said. "I added some sleeping herbs to his rabbit stew. I thought that we might need to make more plans this night, and it would do us no good to keep worrying about not waking him up. Come!" Aragorn crouched and motioned to Gimli to get on his back.

"Ah, no, this is not going to happen!" The dwarf said. "You are not going to carry me as if I am a child!"

"Do you have any better suggestions?" The man asked. "You want to help Legolas, do you?"

"Of course I do!" Gimli said. And it was true. Well, he had to admit that he still was not sure if climbing a tree would help his friend heal, but at least he would see Legolas's stunned face on the morning, which made it worth it. With a sigh of surrender he wrapped his arms around the man's neck and his legs around his waist. Aragorn cautiously stood up and walked towards the tall oak. Gimli gulped. He hoped that Legolas would not wake up sooner than expected – if his friend saw him carried like this, he would never hear the end of it! On the other hand… it might help the elf's healing. Well, he was glad that this idea had never occurred to Aragorn and he was not going to share it with him!

Aragorn grabbed the lowest branch and started climbing. Ai, this was harder than he had anticipated! Gimli looked small but weighted as much as a fully-grown man, perhaps even more. Slowly but surely he made his upward progress, until he had to stand up on a branch to reach the next one. And then disaster happened.

The man was still not used to the heavy weight at his back and lost his balance. His cry of shock joined with Gimli's as they both flew towards the unyielding ground.

A heavy thud, and then pain – that was it. "Gimli?" Aragorn asked softly and rolled off the dwarf. "Are you alright? Anything broken?"

"Yes…" Gimli moaned, his voice laden with agony.

"What?" Aragorn knelled above him, frowning in worry. "Do not move, Gimli! What did you break?"

"My… pipe," the dwarf mumbled miserably and held up the broken piece of wood.

"Oh, this is serious," the man said sympathetically. "I am sorry. Well, I am unhurt."

"I know that you are unhurt!" Gimli grunted angrily. "You landed on top of me!"

Aragorn winced. "I am sorry, Gimli."

"You better be! But do not worry – I will remember this and return the favor!"

"As you wish, have your revenge on me, but let us get you on top of that tree first. The night will not last forever." The two looked briefly at Legolas, who was still sleeping peacefully, oblivious of what had just happened.

"You mean – you want to try this again?" Gimli asked incredulously. As the man nodded, he shook his head in dismay – sometimes he wondered who was more insane – men or elves… and how did he always end up surrounded by both was beyond him.

-:-

When Legolas awoke, Aragorn was already up, leaning against a tree and smoking his pipe. "Good morning, Legolas," the man said cheerfully although he looked strangely tired. "Breakfast is ready. Would you like some-"

"Where is Gimli?" The elf asked suddenly, looking wildly around.

"Ah, Gimli?" Aragorn shrugged. "Up there."

"Good morning, Master Elf!" The dwarf said and made Legolas jump. The elf looked up, and saw a very smug-looking dwarf waving at him. "You should join me. The view is beautiful."

Legolas's eyes widened and he looked at Aragorn in shock. "What is happening here?"

The man shrugged. "Nothing much. Gimli awoke early and decided that the air would be fresher up there."

The elf's gaze moved back-and-forth from the man to the dwarf, and he wondered which one of his friends had lost his mind. Finally, he jumped up and nimbly climbed next to Gimli. "Now will you tell me what you are really doing up here?" He asked. "And how did you climb the tree anyway?"

"I told you already, Legolas, I am simply enjoying the view," he answered calmly.

The elf sighed and touched his friend's forehead to check for any signs of fever. The dwarf seemed well and his bewilderment only grew. "I would very much like to see you climbing."

"You… would?" Gimli did not sound so sure anymore. "Well, I will show you some other time, but now I only wish to enjoy the view."

"So you do not wish to have a race down the tree?" Legolas asked with a mischievous grin. Normally this grin would have made Gimli very happy because it was a sure sign that his friend was healing, but now he was too worried about his upcoming humiliation to notice anything and simply shook his head. "You are afraid that I will win?" The elf asked sweetly. "Oh, come on, Gimli, you must be so good at climbing trees, I am sure you have nothing to fear." Saying this, Legolas nimbly jumped to a lower branch and started his swift descent, and Gimli had no choice but follow.

The dwarf had not even reached the lower branch, however, when he lost his footing and slipped from the branch. "Gimli!" The elf shouted in horror and reached out for his falling friend, but he was not fast enough and could only helplessly watch the dwarf falling, crushing branches on his way down.

Aragorn quickly rushed to catch Gimli, but as the dwarf fell on top of him, he was unable to keep his balance and fell to the ground, the weight of his shorter friend pinning him down. Legolas jumped next to them a heartbeat after the dwarf had fallen. "Are you alright?" He asked swiftly, his eyes shifting worriedly from the dwarf to the man and back.

"I am not hurt," Gimli answered happily and grinned down at Aragorn, who looked out of breath. "I told you I would return the favor laddie! No hard feelings!"

Satisfied that the dwarf was well, Legolas turned to his other friend. "Aragorn?"

"I… I…" he tried to speak, but Gimli's weight had pushed all air out of his lungs. He locked eyes with Legolas and the urgency in them startled the elf. Obviously Aragorn wanted to tell him something very important.

"What is it?" He asked and helped the man rise to a sitting position as the dwarf rolled off him. "Do you have a broken rib? Maybe you should not move too much…"

"I-" Aragorn tried to speak again, but the air that suddenly rushed into his lungs made him cough.

"What?" Legolas's worry was turning into panic. "You do not have a punctured lung, do you?"

"I… I think that Gimli won!" Aragorn finally managed to say and could not suppress a grin at his friend's stunned face.

"It is true, it is true!" Gimli cried happily. He had not realized this until then. "I won! I won the race down the tree!"

Legolas stood frozen and glared daggers at the dwarf, then at Aragorn, and then at Gimli again, until his lips suddenly started to twitch and finally he gave up and let them curl into a wide smile. And then the smile was not enough to express his mirth, and he started to laugh. His laughter was growing stronger and clearer, until he ended up lying curled on the ground, arms wrapped around his stomach, laughing helplessly. When the elf finally managed to gain control over himself, he rose up, still laughing feebly, and noticed that his friends were looking at him with broad grins.

"This was good," he said and blushed slightly. "Gimli won. He won a tree-climbing contest against me!" He shook his head in disbelief, not noticing that the man and the dwarf exchanged a glance. "Well, I suppose we should be going now," he finally said. "We have made some good progress, but it is still a long way to Umbar."

"We are not going to Umbar, Legolas," Aragorn said. "In fact, I believe it is time to go home."

The elf froze and stared at him in confusion. "Go home? But what about this thing you lost? We must find it! Surely you are not giving up!"

"I am not giving up, Legolas," the man said with a smile. "On the contrary. I succeeded. Now I have it back and my quest is complete."

"You found it?" The elf asked bewildered. "When? Where? How?" His confusion was growing, but finally he managed to find the right question. "What? What was it that you had lost?"

The man looked at him for a moment, smiling affectionately. "Your laughter, Legolas. This joyful smile on your face, this bright twinkle in your eyes. I had not heard this laughter and had not seen this twinkle for a long time, and I missed them. But now I have them back."

The elf blinked in surprise a few times. And then he remembered. He remembered the exact words Aragorn had used when he described this mysterious object that he had lost.

I lost something. Something precious to me. Something I would give my life to get back.

No, Legolas, it is not a person, but it is something just as important.

He blinked once again, but this time it was to keep a tear from falling. His throat felt too tight too speak. "Now I see why you did not tell me what it was," he uttered when he finally gained control over the sudden emotions. "And why you needed me to come with you, and why Faramir looked so happy when we were leaving. But there is still something that I do not understand. Why could we not take horses? Why did the trip have to be on foot?"

Aragorn laughed. "I have to admit that this has no significance in our plan, and was irrelevant to your healing. The only reason we did that was because Gimli refused to spend any more time 'on top of one of those horrible beasts'."

The dwarf blushed slightly. "Ah, do not look at me like that, Legolas, it is true! I rode all the way from Rohan." He rubbed his hands, looking satisfied. "And now at last I can return to Éomer and tell him that our plan succeeded."

"Our plan?" Legolas looked surprised. "Was Éomer involved as well in the plan to help me?"

"Er- not exactly…" Gimli looked uncertain, as if wondering if to tell them or not. Finally, he could not help it anymore. "Alright, I will tell you." His voice lowered as if he was revealing a big secret. "About two months ago I journeyed to Gondor with Éomer and his escort. When we crossed the White Mountains, our paths separated. I continued to Ithilien to meet with Legolas, and the Rohirrim traveled to Minas Tirith."

"We know this already," Legolas said. "What does it have to do with your plan?"

"Oh, it has everything to do with my plan," Gimli said cheerfully and looked at Aragorn. "I asked Éomer how you were faring, and he said that he was worried about you. You were working too much and refused to take a rest. He had talked to Lady Arwen, and she shared his concern, but the two were unable to persuade you to take a rest, and so they decided to ask me for my highly-valued advice." The dwarf grinned happily. "For nearly two months Éomer and I had been devising cunning plans how to make to leave Minas Tirith and your work for a few days, and have been corresponding actively with Arwen to exchange ideas. Finally we decided that the only way to make you take some time for yourself and remember the freedom of you life as a ranger would be to make you think that you are doing it to help Legolas."

Aragorn was staring at him in utter shock, and the dwarf smiled gently. "Come on, my friend, we all know that you are an excellent healer, but sometimes healers need healing too."

"You mean…" The man could barely believe what he was hearing. "You mean that this trip was for my sake and not for Legolas's?"

"Oh, no, not at all!" Gimli said. "It was for both of you! Both of you needed to heal, but both of you had to be ignorant of the true reason why you were coming. This is why I let Legolas win the cooking contest. You told me that I had to make him lose because this would challenge his fighting spirit. Well, I thought I had to take care of your fighting spirit too."

"You let me win?" Legolas asked incredulously. "I thought that I won because I had cooked the better meal! And you, Aragorn, told him that I had to lose! I cannot believe it!"

His friends smiled innocently and he shook his head in exasperation. "Well, it does not matter. This is a wonderful plan Gimli and I like it a lot. He surely needed to have some rest. Why did you not tell me of it? I could have helped you."

"Were you not listening?" Gimli cried. "This trip was for both of you. So you both needed to know nothing of my plan. Besides, there is nothing you could have done to help. The best way you could have helped me help Aragorn was to get better yourself, which you did."

"Hmm, you are right," the elf conceded. "How noble of you, Gimli… Aragorn, do you know what I am thinking?" He asked with a wink.

"I believe I do," the man replied.

"What?" Gimli asked, feeling strangely worried.

"I find all this rather unfair," Legolas continued in a deceptively gentle voice.

"Unfair?" The dwarf asked perplexed. "What is unfair?"

"You see, you helped me overcome the pain the sea-longing is causing me. You helped Aragorn escape his royal duties. And yet, no one has helped you heal."

"Heal?" Gimli was completely confused. "Heal from what?"

"Oh, but you surely need healing Gimli," Aragorn said. "Healing from your desire to make cunning plans and to manipulate your poor unsuspecting friends."

"No, no, I only wanted to help!" Gimli cried and took a few steps back, as the man and the elf approached him with slow and deliberate steps.

"Do not be shy, Gimli, let us help you," Legolas said sweetly. "You helped us heal. Now let us heal you. As you put it so well, sometimes healers need healing too."

"No! No! Noooo!" Gimli cried in horror as two pairs of arms grabbed him and threw him towards the lake. "You fools!" The dwarf shouted, splashing about and trying to stay on the surface. "I cannot swim!"

Aragorn and Legolas exchanged a worried glance. "He cannot swim!" Instantly both of them jumped into the water, swimming towards the dwarf with fast, powerful strokes. By the time they reached Gimli, however, the dwarf had disappeared underwater. Legolas looked around in near panic and was about to dive and look for the dwarf, when suddenly Aragorn gave out a startled cry and disappeared under the surface as if he had been pulled down. The elf stared in horror. Was there some underwater creature that had captured his friends? He had left his knives on the shore and there was no time to go back!

Before he could make up his mind on what to do, something grabbed his own leg and pulled him down. Legolas turned around under water and glared at the dwarf, who was grinning happily at him. After a brief fight he and Aragorn were free from the dwarf's strong grasp and the three friends swam towards the shore.

For a long while they lay on the grass, soaking wet, trying to regain their breath. "You said you could not swim!" Legolas murmured accusingly.

"I lied," Gimli admitted. "Oh, you should have seen your face under the water!"

The elf tried to glare at his friend but failed miserably as he dissolved into laughter. "Thank you Gimli," he finally said and smiled affectionately. "Thank you so much for all you did for me. I have not felt this good for a while." He then turned to Aragorn. "Thank you both," he added softly.

"I must thank you too, Gimli," Aragorn said. "You helped me a lot. This trip did me a great good and I was a fool not to realize myself how much I needed this." He looked at the elf, and noticed that he was frowning at him. "What is it Legolas?"

"What do you think it is?" The elf replied in mock-offence. "I thanked both of you, and now you are thanking only him!"

"And why would I thank you?" The man asked with a mischievous smile. "I lost a cooking contest to you and suffered great humiliation, and then I was nearly killed by a falling dwarf because you decided to challenge Gimli on tree-climbing! You better have a good reason, elf!"

"Oh, but I do!" Legolas said. "I helped you recover what you have lost. Remember, this thing so valuable to you that you wanted to get back?"

Aragorn laughed. "You are right. Thank you for being happy again, Legolas." They shared a smile.

Gimli cleared his throat. "And I must thank you both for throwing me into the lake. It was most entertaining!" He grinned innocently at his friends' glares.

"Be careful, dwarf, or we might throw you again," Legolas warned. "And now we know that you can swim."

Gimli decided that his best strategy would be to change the topic. "I do not want to go back yet," he said. "We are having a good time together, and I am sure that my kin in the Glittering Caves will manage well without me for a while."

"I also think I could delay my return to Ithilien," Legolas agreed. "It will be good to spend some more time together, just the three of us."

"Aragorn?" Two sets of round and hopeful eyes were turned towards the King.

The man looked downwards. "You know, I would have loved to stay longer, but now our task is accomplished, and I have duties in Minas Tirith, and-"

"Aragorn!"

He sighed in defeat. "As you wish, I am staying with you…" The happy cries of his friends were contagious and Aragorn soon laughed with them.

The tree rose up and walked towards the lake, letting their tired bodies relax in the water's gentle embrace. "I saw that you can swim, Gimli," Legolas said. "But can you swim faster than me?"

"You bet I can, elf!" The dwarf cried, and Aragorn jumped back to evade the wild splashing that followed. He could not help a smile. It was good to see that some things never changed.

The End

Thank you so much for reading! Comments are very welcome as usual.

To everyone reading "The Only Way to Kill the Dragon": Unfortunately, I won't be able to write anything during the next two weeks, so don't expect chapter 13 too soon. However, I'm quite inspired by the next chapter, and can't wait to get the chance to sit down and write. It is called "You Cannot Pass!"