Waiting

Authors note: Can be read by itself or as part of my story arc between Inauspicious Beginnings and Choices Made. Based more on the movie than book canon.

-o-o-o-

King Théoden of Rohan stood in the entrance of the Golden Hall. The battle of Helm's deep was over. Most of the refugees had returned to Edoras, and so had King Théoden and his family. And now, they had to wait. Wait for news of the war, wait for news from Gondor.

Currently the King was watching Aragorn, son of Arathorn, ranger of the North and future King of Gondor and his friend Legolas Thranduilion from the Woodland Realm sitting on the steps leading up to the hall's entrance. They had their backs turned to the King, and Théoden could not make out if they were talking. The two friend were fletching arrows. Earlier, Legolas had asked Éomer where he could get wood, fletching and metal for arrowheads. Éomer had directed him to the weaponry, where he had found a plentiful supply of all that he needed. Long had Théoden defended his land against the dark forces of Mordor, and his weaponry was always well stocked.

Théoden had spent much time thinking about Aragorn. This was the heir to Elendil, the rightful King of Gondor. The Steward of Gondor would not be happy with his appearance. Théoden struggled to reconcile the rather shabby appearance of the ranger with Aragorn's rightful position. Although, during the fighting King Théoden had seen, and experienced, just how good a leader Aragorn was, able to unite an army of villagers and elven warriors under one banner. Théoden had also seen something else. Éowyn, his nice, seemed to like Aragorn and sought him out. She told him that Aragorn was of the Dúnedain, blessed with long life and already 87 years old. He did not look older than mid-30s, a man in his prime, and not unattractive with his lean muscular body, dark, curly hair and grey eyes.

And then there was Legolas, his friend. He was the first elf Théoden had closer contact with. He had met elves before, but only in passing and had never had any interactions with them. The first time Théoden had seen Legolas, he had been surprised by Legolas' colouring, dark eyes and blond hair were not uncommon amongst the Rohirrim but Théoden had not often seen this colouring elsewhere and certainly not amongst the few elves he had met. Théoden had been pleasantly surprised how good an archer and fighter Legolas was, he had heard of the battle prowess of elves but had never experienced it before. Legolas intrigued him, in many ways the elf was so similar to humans and in other ways so different. But the differences were fewer than Théoden had thought, in the brief time that he had known the elf, he had seen him fighting expertly, dropping with exhaustion, stricken by grief, eating, drinking and enjoying the company of his friends. Somehow he had always thought elves were more different.

It was obvious to Théoden that Aragorn and Legolas were close friends and had known each other for a long time. They read each other without needing words, something that was rare amongst males and that Théoden found even more unlikely between a man and an elf. The King had noticed that between themselves, Legolas and Aragorn always spoke Elvish, he wondered if Aragorn had learned it as a child. The Dúnedain were said to have close connections to the elves.

Currently Legolas finished the arrow he was working on, put down his knife and began to gather together all the arrows that had been made. He carefully placed them in two bundles and tied them together with small leather bands. Then he said something to Aragorn. The ranger nodded, got up and for a moment, stood behind the elf and absent-mindedly gathered his friend's long hair and pushed it over the elf's shoulder. Legolas half turned and smiled at Aragorn. Théoden was surprised by the familiarity of this action, Legolas kept so much to himself that the intimacy of the moment was surprising, but neither elf nor ranger seemed to be really aware of it. After a brief moment, Aragorn turned and walked up the stairs.

"Hail, Théoden King", Aragorn said with a smile. "Do you have a healer here?"

"Hail, Aragorn" the king sighed. "Our healer died at Helm's Deep, but our midwife has survived, and she knows almost as much, or perhaps even more, than he did, about healing. Is your shoulder wound bothering you?"

"It is not that. I have some skill as a healer, and I would like to see if I can find some healing herbs, we have used up my provisions on our long journey."

"You are full of surprises, Aragorn. I will ask Éowyn to take you to the midwife."

"Eowyn…" Aragorn looked at the King.

"She likes you."

"I know." Aragorn looked down for a moment, and then met the King's eyes. "I would never mislead her. She deserves happiness, she has seen too much death for someone so young. But I cannot give her what she needs."

"Is she unpleasant to you?" Théoden sounded surprised.

"No. She is as fair as a beautiful spring morning. But…" Aragorn stopped. "What she sees in me is a dream – she sees valour and renown, and great deeds. But … I trained as a healer before I learned to be a warrior."

Théoden looked at Aragorn. He dimly remembered a prophecy, something about a healer-king. Wasn't there an old prophecy that went something like "The hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known"? Whilst these thoughts went through Théoden's mind, Aragorn had paused, and now the ranger returned the gaze of the king.

"I could not give her what she wants", Aragorn looked down again, "my heart is given." For a brief moment, Aragorn's eyes turned towards Legolas, who was still sitting with his back turned toward them, looking into the distance.

Théoden stood quietly for a moment. "You have not misled her. I will not hide that I hoped for her that there might be happiness for her. You are an honourable man, Aragorn, it was not I who lead our men to victory at Helm's Deep."

"Without you, your men would not have followed me so readily. Théoden, before this is over, we will raise swords together."

At this moment, Legolas came up the stairs and joined the two men. "Hail, King Théoden", the elf said with a small formal bow. The King nodded his acknowledgment in return.

"Aragorn, I will go and look for Gimli and Merry."

"You may well find them in the smithy. Éomer took Gimli there earlier, and Merry came along." Théoden pointed down the hill. "Just follow the road down. You will find the smithy right at the foot of the hill."

"Thank you." Legolas turned and walked down the hill.

-o-o-o-

In the smithy, Gimli was working on a new blade for his axe. Or rather not so much a new one as a spare one, the dwarf did not like to just have one – even a dwarven blade could break or chip in battle and it was better to have a second blade. Éomer had led him to the smithy – it was empty and the forge was cold. The smith and his apprentice were amongst the many who had not returned from Helm's Deep. Éomer had commented that Gimli's skills were very welcome, as weapons needed to be restocked. But he had left the dwarf and Merry to their own devices, as he had more pressing duties to see to. Gimli had quickly lit the fire and found metals and tools. He was now working on shaping the axe head from the initial rough shape to a more refined form. Merry had seated himself near the window, away from the heat of the forge. He had been much quieter than usual since Gandalf had left with Pippin.

Now he looked at the dwarf with a deep sigh. "Gimli, do you think we will ever see them again?"

Gimli looked up, but did not stop his work. The fire played on his bearded features and Merry was struck by how at home Gimli looked at the forge.

"Gandalf and Pippin? I don't know." Gimli also sighed. "We can only wait for news and keep up our courage, Gandalf would not want us to despair."

The dwarf focused again on the design he was trying to chisel into the hot metal.

"Why does Pippin always have to get into trouble? He can never just leave something alone… and now I cannot even help him."

Without losing the rhythm of his hammering, Gimli looked up. "Merry, there was a reason why you and Pippin were allowed to join the fellowship. I cannot read Lord Elrond's mind, but I am sure he had a reason. He would not have permitted Pippin to come if he did not have a role to play."

The dwarf had almost finished his work. "We are small pieces in big events. We can but try our best, and be true to our friends. Which is the reason why I will now try and make some arrowheads for Legolas, I know he is running short."

Pippin looked up in surprise. "I thought you don't like Legolas."

"That young elfling has grown on me. And I must admit, he has his uses in battle". The dwarf was embarrassed, too often had he taunted the elf in the early days of the journey. But so many things had happened, Legolas was strong and true, the fact that he was an elf was no longer as important.

The axe blade was now finished. Gimli was pleased with his work, even though he had to use the tools and materials of an unknown human, the blade was strong and the design unblemished. The clan markings and fortune runes stood out clearly. Now to the arrow heads.

Gimli looked at the young hobbit. "I need to make a mould to make the arrow heads. Could you run down to the river and get some sand or clay? I do not need both."

Pippin nodded. "Of course, it is better than doing nothing. I hate this waiting, just waiting for things to happen." The hobbit slid of his seat and set off in the direction of the river.

For a moment, Gimli stepped away from the forge. And out of the door. He looked up and down the street, only to see the familiar figure of Legolas approaching.

"I was wondering what you and Merry are up to. Where is Merry?" The elf quickly glanced into the smithy and saw that Merry was not there.

"He is running an errand for me."

At that moment, Legolas saw the axe blade that Gimli had crafted. As all elves, Legolas had a keen sense of aesthetics, and recognised beauty when he saw it, even if it was expressed in the alien form of dwarvish design.

"Gimli, this is a beautiful piece of work." The elf stretched out his hand to pick up the axe blade.

"Be careful, this is still hot", Gimli said with a gruff smile. He was more pleased by Legolas' compliment than he wanted to admit.

"Gimli, one of my daggers got badly chipped at Helm's Deep. Do you think you could repair it?"

Gimli was surprised by the request. Legolas must trust him to ask for this – perhaps he was not the only one who felt that something had changed between them.

"I can try. I have not yet worked on a weapon of Elvish make. Have you got it with you?"

"No, I am unarmed." It was only at that moment that Gimli realised that Legolas, very uncharacteristically, was indeed entirely without weapons.

"We can do this after the noon meal. Come, let's get back to the Hall and get some food. Aragorn will be looking for you. He always is." Gimli's voice was gruff, but there was also understanding and acceptance in the dwarf's voice. Legolas smiled, a shy smile that disappeared almost as quickly as it came, and Gimli was surprised how much this small grin mattered to him. Yes, Legolas was becoming a friend, and in these times of war, it was not a bad thing to have an elf on your side.

-o-o-o-

TBC. Please review if you enjoyed.