Author's note: For this story to make sense and work for you, you have to accept some alternate universe ideas. In this story, and in the rest of this series, which is written with my co author Minnie, Legolas is considered to be a minor. In our universe elves reach their majority at age 1,000, making him relatively one of the youngest members of the fellowship. We do know what the Great Professor said about elves regarding this, but we have decided to respectfully ignore this. Most of the time we follow book verse, but there are some instances where we follow movie verse just for the fun of it. Also quite a few of our stories contain non kinky spanking, so if this offends please don't read. Some do not, however, and this is one of those. I will always put appropriate warnings on the ones that do. Because you have been warned, I would appreciate it if no one comments negatively on either of these aspects of the stories. Otherwise, I would love to hear your thoughts and find out if you would like to read more of this series. There are fifty stories in all. Thanks for taking the time to read this!
And now the story! Enjoy!
Gimli helped the younger hobbits kindle a fire of brush and fir wood, and then assisted them in drawing water. All the while he kept up a lighthearted chatter, trying to distract the young ones from their grief by engaging them in conversation. He was careful to keep his tone cheerful, eventually eliciting smiles from the halflings with tales of his life in Erebor. He patted the curly head of the youngest hobbit, and smiling, turned away from the fire and walked a little distance from the camp. The dwarf felt it was his duty to keep up the spirits of the other members of the company, as too much sorrow could cripple their mission. This was not an easy task, however, since Gimli's own heart was weighed down with anguish over the loss of their leader and friend. Losing the wizard had been a devastating blow to the fellowship.
The dwarf sat on the trunk of a fallen tree, pulled a pipe from his pack and lit it. He drew in a great breath of smoke and let the memories of the last several days flood his mind. He recalled the horror he had felt as he had stared into the darkness of the deep pit that had swallowed Gandalf. Before it had registered in anyone's mind that they had lost their leader, the bridge had cracked and fallen, and they were chasing after a new leader. Aragorn had led them up the great stairs and into a wide echoing passage. Gimli had heard the weeping of Frodo and Sam as they ran along this corridor until they finally reached the shattered gates. Aragorn had slain the orc captain that had been in their path, and the company had continued their mad dash down the age worn steps at the threshold of Moria. They had finally reached the relative safety of the open sky, but had not stopped running until they were out of bowshot of the walls.
Only then had the company looked back and allowed grief to overcome them. Gimli recalled the tears that had coursed down his own cheeks as the hobbits had cast themselves upon the ground weeping. He remembered the stricken faces of the men as they stood silently watching the thin black smoke coming out from the archway of the gates under the mountain's shadow. Only the elf had remained stoic and unreadable as he quickly set about dealing with the necessary tasks of practical matters. Gimli drew again on the pipe and shook his head at the memory. If he lived a thousand years, he would never understand the thinking of elves. In the days since the loss of the wizard, Gimli felt he had grown closer to the halflings and the men in the company, but the elf had become even more illusive than before if that were possible. At least before, he could count on an occasional insult or haughty look being thrown in his direction. Now it was as if the elf did not see him, or anyone else for that matter, though he had been indispensable in helping move the company forward from that dreadful day.
So engrossed in thought was Gimli that he started a bit when a hand was placed on his shoulder. Aragorn sat next to the dwarf and lit his own pipe before speaking.
"I wanted to thank you, friend Gimli, for all your assistance in trying to return our lives back to as normal as possible since that dark day we will never forget. Your positive attitude and cheerful demeanor have been invaluable to all of us."
"Think nothing of it, Laddie," the dwarf brushed aside the compliment. "Anyone could have provided the same service. It takes no great skill to tell a joke or two."
"It may not take great skill," Aragorn said, "but it takes a kind and caring heart to bother to try to help others as you have done."
"Don't be ridiculous, Human!" the dwarf snorted. " 'Twas nothing I tell you."
Aragorn smiled, "Admit it Master Dwarf! You have already shown your softer side, it is too late to hide it from us now. In fact it is because of this that I wish to talk to you. I need to explain something to you and ask a favor of you as well."
Gimli blushed at the man's words. "Get on with it then Boy!" the dwarf said gruffly. "I don't have all day to listen to your flowery speech! What is it you would talk to me about?"
"I wish to talk to you about Legolas."
"The elf?" Gimli said in astonishment. "What could you possible have to say about him that I need to know?"
"I have a favor to ask of you in regards to him, but I need to explain a few things first." The man took a deep breath and began. "Legolas is very dear to me. We have been friends since I was a mere babe in Rivendell. He is a formidable warrior and his fighting skill is unsurpassed anywhere on Arda."
"That is clear to anyone with eyes who has seen him fight." Gimli replied. "Get to your point."
"It is just this:" Aragorn continued. "He is still very young, and he needs more care than I am able to provide alone."
"You just said you have known him since your childhood. How can he be young?" the dwarf asked skeptically.
"He is centuries older than either of us, Gimli, but as you know different races mature at different rates." The man explained. "The Eldar have the opportunity to live forever, which means childhood and adolescence lasts much longer than it does among mortal races. By the laws of the elves, he has not even come of age yet."
Gimli furrowed his brow. "You should have let me know this sooner!" a note of regret was in his voice. "It would have made a difference in how I've treated him thus far. Exactly how old is he anyway? And tell me in terms I can comprehend."
"There are many factors to consider, so it is hard to say exactly," Aragorn answered, "in human terms perhaps between fifteen and twenty years."
Gimli widened his eyes in shock at this information. "He is nothing but a precocious child then! Why he should not even be here!"
The man looked anguished at the dwarf's words. "Believe me, Gimli, I have spent many nights having that exact thought. However, his presence in the fellowship has proven to be invaluable. It was not a mistake to bring him."
"Perhaps," the dwarf said doubtfully, "I can't say that I think much of his father, for allowing it, however. This is possibly the most dangerous quest ever to go forth in the history of Middle Earth."
"I have not asked him for certain," the man admitted, "but likely his father was unaware that he had decided to embark on this journey."
"He is here without his father's leave then?"
"Aye, I believe so. For a certainty I would not wish to be in his shoes when he returns home."
Gimli felt oddly protective of the one whom he had considered almost a rival a few minutes ago. "If he is only a child as you say, he can be forgiven such foolishness. I would not wish to be in YOUR shoes when his father discovers you allowed him to accompany us!"
Aragorn winced at the censure he heard in the dwarf's voice. "It was not a decision that was made lightly or by me alone. Lord Elrond, Mithrandir, and I discussed this at great length. We decided that his arrival at just the precise moment when the company was being formed was not a mere coincidence. My father felt that the Valar may have had a hand in it."
The dwarf was still unconvinced, but did not wish to add to Aragorn's burden by heaping more guilt upon his shoulders. "It matters not," he said, "the fact is he is here and there is no turning back now. What favor did you wish to ask of me then?"
"As I've already said, he needs more care than I can provide alone. Now that we no longer have Gandalf, it falls to me to lead this quest. Of course my primary concern must be for the ring bearer so I am no longer able to keep close enough watch on the elf. He should not be left entirely to his own devices."
"You are asking me to act as his guardian?" Gimli asked in disbelief.
"Exactly so!" the man exclaimed.
"Why me? I have not a single clue about the needs of elflings."
"I ask you because it has become clear that you have a caring heart and the ability to fulfill this assignment. You have already done so with the others of the fellowship in these last days." The man pointed out. "As for his needs, they are the same as a youngster of any race. He needs encouragement and affection. Someone to talk to and to confide his concerns in. Someone to monitor his behavior and call him to account if necessary…"
"Hold on a minute! You don't expect me to…"
"He needs someone, and there is no one else I could ask," Aragorn implored the dwarf, "Like all young ones, he does not always recognize his own limitations. He needs someone watching out to make sure he doesn't become a danger to himself. I would not ask this of you if we were not in such dire straits."
"He would never agree to such a thing!"
"He will do as I bid him, Master Gimli," the man said evenly.
"That may be so, but I will do this thing on one condition," the dwarf declared, "he must agree to it. I will not bully the lad into heeding me against his will."
The man patted Gimli's shoulder and smiled in relief. At least the dwarf had not refused altogether. "I will talk to him then," Aragorn said. Gimli nodded, rose from his seat, and returned to the fire. From this spot he could see the man call the elf to sit next to him. The two heads bent together and Gimli could see Aragorn was speaking, though he could not hear what was being said. Legolas' face remained unreadable. After a while, the man pulled the elf into a one-armed embrace and then came to stand next to Gimli near the fire, leaving Legolas sitting on the fallen log.
"What did he have to say?" the dwarf asked.
"He did not refuse," Aragorn replied, "though he didn't agree either."
"What do you suppose that means?"
"It means he wishes to think it over perhaps. Or it could mean he is too distressed to come up with a proper answer. I'm afraid that grief over the loss of Mithrandir is eating at him even more than I suspected. He has not been able to mourn properly and that can be as dangerous to an elf as a festering arrow wound," the man explained.
"I could not tell that he was affected at all. He seems to be entirely unfazed to me," Gimli observed.
"It is not a custom among elves to give voice to grief, except with close family members. I alone among the company am close enough to help him, and yet I have not had the opportunity to do so," Aragorn explained anxiously, " Even now it is pressing on me to tend to Frodo. I cannot have my attention drawn away from him for too long." His eyes drifted to the ring bearer.
"What would you have me do?" Gimli asked helplessly.
"Try talking to him. Say whatever feels natural to you."
"Nothing feels natural when it comes to conversing with elves," Gimli grumbled, "but never let it be said that a dwarf is not willing to try new things."
Gimli observed the elfling from his place near the fire, and was surprised to find that his heart twisted a little in sympathy for the lad. The child should be at home with his family to comfort him over the great loss he had endured, but instead he was on this broken path in the middle of this wilderness trying to deal with the staggering responsibility of continuing on with the quest. The face that had earlier seemed stoic and expressionless now appeared to look merely lost. Gimli wondered why he had not noticed this before. Gathering his determination, the dwarf walked over to sit next to the elf, though he was careful not to touch him. He started to say something jovial, but under the circumstances it didn't seem appropriate so he tried a different tactic, "It's been a rough few days eh Laddie?"
Legolas' only response was a single nod of his head. Gimli sighed. So much for talking, he thought. Perhaps he should begin with a peace offering. "Look Lad, I wanted to apologize for my treatment of you since this quest began. You have proven to be a capable warrior and you have my utmost respect. I wish to call a truce if you are willing."
"I appreciate the sentiment, Master Dwarf," the elf replied bitterly, "but I doubt you would be saying such things if Aragorn had not revealed to you my humiliating secret."
"Humiliating secret?" the dwarf was puzzled, "do you mean that he let me know your true age? I admit I wish I had known earlier, but it is hardly something to be ashamed of. You have no reason to be embarrassed of your youth."
"Sometimes it seems so," Legolas sighed, "I have made many mistakes on this quest."
"Don't be absurd, Elfling," Gimli said, patting the pale hand, "everyone makes mistakes occasionally, and we were all young at one time you know. Why even the old wizard had to have been a child at some point, though I admit it is hard to imagine that!"
Gimli saw the elf stiffen at the mention of their fallen leader. He cautiously put his hand on Legolas' shoulder and was pleased when the lad did not pull away. "We shall all miss him, Laddie, but he would wish us to continue on," he said, giving the shoulder a squeeze.
"But Master Gimli, I don't see how I can. You do not know what I have done!" The elf said desperately.
"Perhaps you would like to tell me about it?" Gimli suggested.
Legolas searched the honest face of the dwarf and something in the dark, kind eyes made him confide his concerns. "I saw it first, before anyone else."
"Saw what first Lad?"
"The Balrog!" he said in horror, " I saw its shadow and even strung my bow. But when I truly realized what it was, I was petrified for a moment! I was so frightened that I dropped the arrow! It slipped right out of my hand, Master Gimli. Had I released that first shot, things might have turned out differently. If I hadn't been so craven, Mithrandir might still be alive!" The anguish was plain to see in the cerulean eyes of the elf.
Gimli's heart broke at these haunted words, and then black rage filled him and came up into his throat. What kind of world was it that required children to experience such carnage? The elfling had not only seen a close companion being slain right before his eyes, but had also somehow twisted the event in his mind until he felt he was to blame for this tragedy. This was an outrage of enormous proportions! They were indeed living in evil times. Gimli blinked several times and swallowed hard before he could get his emotions under control enough to speak.
"Listen to me carefully, child," he whispered, grasping a slim shoulder in each hand, and looking deeply into the troubled eyes, "there is no possible way the wizard's death could be construed as your fault. You have done absolutely nothing wrong. We were all terrified, Lad. It would have been unnatural not to be."
Legolas looked away. "I wish I could believe that," he said, his eyes bright with unshed tears.
"You must believe it!" The dwarf's voice became sharp as he gave the elf a little shake, "and you are one of the most courageous individuals I've ever met! If I ever hear you call yourself craven again you will not like the consequences! Do you understand me, Elf?"
"I…I believe so," Legolas said, though it was clear he was not entirely certain of the dwarf's meaning. "Anyway, your words have eased my heart a bit, and I shall never forget you kindness. Thank you, friend Gimli."
"You are most welcome, Lad," he said. The dwarf dared to run his hand once down the golden hair, and was gratified when the elfling leaned into his touch. Neither the elf nor the dwarf spoke for several minutes, each one lost in his own thoughts. Gimli was the first to break the silence. "I suppose Aragorn had spoken to you about the proposal he has for us?" he asked.
"He has."
"Do you understand what it would mean if you agree?"
"Yes. He wishes for you to act as my guardian. I would be agreeing to accept you as a replacement parent of sorts, until I return home."
"I know this is a difficult decision," Gimli said, "but I promise I would do my best for you, though I have little experience in such things. I must warn you, though, that dwarves take their vows very seriously. I never do anything with half a heart!"
"I do not doubt that," Legolas said, "it is thoughtful of you to agree to assist me in this way."
"So what say you, Laddie?" Gimli asked cheerfully.
Instead of answering directly, Legolas did something that the dwarf would recognize from that day on as the elven way of coming at a subject sideways. He changed the topic.
"My father always likes me to braid his hair," he said. He thought of his Adar's regal elegance, and then the dwarf's blunt, matter of fact ways.
"Is that so?" Gimli was confused by this turn in the conversation.
"He can do it himself, of course," Legolas continued, "but he finds it pleasant when I do it for him. My naneth always did it before she died. Perhaps it reminds him of her."
"Perhaps so," Gimli said, still unsure where this was leading.
The elf looked at the dwarf from under his lashes. "I could re-braid your beard," he said shyly, picking up the frazzled hair from the dwarf's face, "you look a bit of a mess."
"It's true that I haven't had much time for preening of late," Gimli said, finally understanding. "I would appreciate your ministrations, Laddie."
Later that evening, after Boromir had taken over the watch, the four hobbits stared in amazement as Legolas sat in front of the dwarf and began combing sections of the great beard. "What is he doing to you, Gimli?" Pippin asked curiously.
"We are having a new type of competition between the two of us!" Gimli joked, " It is to be a contest to see who is the fairest. He didn't want to beat me too badly so he's giving me a little help."
"Now Master Gimli," the elf laughed, "I'm sure when I'm finished with you, you will have no trouble coming in second." He lifted great hands full of the bristly beard. "I could get lost in here, Pip," he said smiling at the young hobbit, "If you don't see me for a while, send in a search party." Aragorn heard this last line, along with the laughter of the hobbits. He alone, though, understood the significance of what was taking place.
"I see it is settled then?" Aragorn asked.
Legolas and Gimli looked at the man, and then at each other, and nodded. A friendship that was to become famous throughout all of Arda had begun.