Thanks to the following for their reviews and encouragement: Fluffy's fangirls, Grumpy, Dragonfly, Amy, K'lare, and Joee. I am so glad to be back on the web. I had a wonderful vacation that actually ended several weeks ago, but I have been so busy with the start of school that I didn't have a chance to write at all! Sniff.
Beta Reader: Dragonfly.
Chapter 2: A Fetching Elf
From Gandalf's window, Legolas watched Arwen and Aragorn walking upon the greensward. He smiled and turned toward the wizard.
"Mithrandir, do you remember that upon a time my father desired that I should espouse Arwen?"
The wizard did not look up from the map he was studying.
"It's Gandalf, and, yes, I do recall that unfortunate episode. I may look old, Laiqua, but my memory is intact."
"Why may you call me 'Laiqua'," protested Legolas, 'when I may not call you Mithrandir?"
"Privilege of age," Gandalf replied cheerfully.
"You want to have it both ways," grumbled Legolas, "to be treated as agéd and yet not so." To himself, he wondered again how old Gandalf really was. When Legolas had first encountered the wizard in the woods of Imladris, he had been an elfling, and Gandalf had already taken on the guise of an old Man. Instinctively, Legolas had deferred to him, and had continued to do so, but the Elf wondered whether, in actual years, he might actually be the older.
'But it doesn't matter', Legolas thought to himself. 'Mithrandir—Gandalf—he will always be in some way older than I. His spirit, at least, is ageless, and I suspect it far antedates my own. Whether he took bodily form before or after I did, he is older'.
"Gandalf," he said aloud, "Elrond has said that he will allow Arwen to wed no mortal unless it be the King of the restored Kingdom of the West. But even if we succeed in destroying the Ring, there may be obstacles that stand between Aragorn and the throne in Minas Tirith."
Gandalf looked up and studied the Elf's face keenly.
"Obstacles, eh? What makes you say that, my lad?"
Legolas wished he hadn't spoken so boldly.
"Oh," he said, going to his bow and picking it up as if he had suddenly remembered an errand, "Orcs, Southrons, Easterlings, you know."
"I don't, and put that bow down. Now speak your mind."
"I imagine you already know my mind," retorted Legolas. "You and Galadriel are much akin in that respect."
"Nevertheless, I should like to hear your opinion directly. What obstacles does Aragorn face in addition to the more obvious ones?"
Legolas decided he had best be blunt.
"Boromir."
"Boromir pledged at the Council to do what he could to aid the Ring-bearer."
"Yes, but he did not pledge at the Council to do what he could to help Aragorn regain the throne of the West."
"He was not asked to, but do you have reason to believe that he would refuse if he were asked?"
"No-oo."
"Well, then!"
"But, Gandalf, Boromir is, is—Boromir is a Man!"
"And so is Aragorn. Do you doubt Aragorn for that reason?"
"They are both Men, yes, but Aragorn is—different. He is descended from the Eldar as well as the Edain."
"I think," Gandalf said severely, "that you are allowing your prejudices to get in the way of your judgment. I know you think Elves are superior to Dwarves, but I had not thought your bias extended to Men. Next you will be saying that you don't trust me."
"You are not a Man!"
"My pardon, but Edwen Nana would not agree with you there."
Legolas was about to fling back a reply when he saw that Gandalf was winking. He returned to the topic at hand.
"I have not explained myself clearly, Gandalf. It is not that Boromir is a Man; it is the kind of Man he is. For Men are not all alike."
"True, but neither are Elves, so let us not make Boromir's race the issue."
"Very well. Gandalf, Boromir seems so very—eager."
"And is eagerness a flaw?"
"It depends upon the object of the eagerness."
"Ah. And what is the object of Boromir's eagerness?"
"I am not sure," Legolas said slowly, "but I suspect that mastery matters to him, more than it matters to Aragorn."
"You think that Aragorn would not care to be King?"
"He does wish to be King, Gandalf, but his reasons for desiring that power are very different from any reasons Boromir would have were he in his place. Boromir, I think, would mean well. He is an honorable Man, who would wish to rule with benevolence and wisdom—at least that would be his intention at the outset. But he has a desire for the power to Command, for he deems that such is the path that must be followed for one who would be glorious in the eyes of Men."
Gandalf arose and walked to the window. He could see where Aragorn and Arwen had gone to stand by the statue of Gil-galad. Gil-galad! The elven lord who had fallen in the Battle of the Last Alliance. In that same battle had been slain King Elendil, ancestor of Aragorn. It was the Dark Lord himself who had broken the King's body, leaving him crumpled before the fortress of Barad-dûr . But in requital Isildur, Elendil's son, had cut the Ring from Sauron's finger. Ai! Then it was that Isildur had been the eager one. He had kept the Ring for his own, insisting that he took it as wergild for his father. But Gandalf suspected that Isildur had heard the voice of the Ring—heard it and been susceptible to its blandishments. Power! Command! Glory! These were what the Ring had offered Isildur, and these he had found tempting. But these enticements mattered not to Aragorn. Legolas was right. Aragorn had inherited Isildur's courage, but not his eagerness to stand high above all others. Aragorn was proof against the Ring. But Boromir, yes, Boromir would bear watching.
Legolas came to stand at the window beside the wizard.
"There is one other matter, Gandalf. In demeanor and speech, Boromir could be called forthright and bold, but he could equally be said to be reckless. Courage must be tempered with judgment. Are you sure that this Man will not inadvertently betray us through a hasty word or deed?"
"I am not sure," Gandalf replied acerbically. "No one could be sure of that sort of thing. Indeed, I cannot be certain that you won't inadvertently betray us."
"I would never!" Legolas exclaimed indignantly.
"I did say 'inadvertently', Legolas. Of course you would never intentionally betray us, but you cannot predict the outcome of your own actions. A decision to take one path and not another, and you may lead us straight into a nest of Orcs. Without ever meaning to, of course," the wizard reiterated as he saw Legolas opening his mouth to protest.
"Legolas," the wizard continued, "be sure that I shall hold your words in my heart. But a Fellowship has come into being, and, for good or for ill, the success of our endeavor must rest upon the shoulders of its members. We must guard one another and pray that the time does not come when we must guard against one another. My answer may not be to your liking, but it is the only answer I can give. Now do me a kindness and ask Gimli to attend me. There are some details of his story that I would like to go over with him one more time."
Gandalf turned back to the window before Legolas had a chance to reply, but the wizard knew even without seeing that the Elf was wrinkling his nose in dismay.
'Stubborn Elf', he laughed to himself. 'He's just as thick-necked as the Dwarves he despises so. Well, good! He'll discover before the end that he has something in common with Gimli son of Glóin'.
Gandalf heard the door bang shut behind Legolas, and the wizard laughed at the thought of an elegant Elf venting his anger in such a graceless manner.
'So I am to be errand runner to a Dwarf', thought Legolas to as he stomped toward Gimli's quarters in a fashion that, truth be told, was more than a little dwarf-like. However, by the time he arrived at the Dwarf's chamber, he had recovered his equanimity. Politely he knocked upon the door.
"Enter," bellowed Gimli. Legolas did so, and saw that the Dwarf, seated cross-legged upon the bed, was braiding his beard.
'Barbaric custom', the Elf thought smugly, without giving a moment's thought to the braids that adorned his own hair. Aloud he said, "Master Dwarf, Master Gandalf begs your presence in his chamber."
"Does he?" replied Gimli. "How kind of you to let me know, Prince Legolas."
Legolas kept his countenance but wondered how it was that the word 'Prince' could be made to sound such an insult in the mouth of a Dwarf. 'If I am a Prince', he thought indignantly, 'what of it!' Fuming, he accompanied Gimli back to Gandalf's room, struggling hard to match his long steps to the shorter ones of the Dwarf, who, it seemed to Legolas, moved with all the deliberateness of a turtle.
"Ah, Gimli, my friend," cried Gandalf when the odd couple had arrived at the wizard's chamber, "thank you for honoring my request. And thank you for fetching him," he added to Legolas.
'Fetching him!' thought Legolas indignantly. 'Fetching him! Am I your servant, then?' He turned to leave the chamber, but Gandalf stayed him.
"Nay, Legolas. You must remain. What Gimli has to say may be of interest to you as well as me."
'I doubt it', thought Legolas, but he would not be seen to challenge the wizard's judgment. He made as if to take a seat.
"Half a minute," cried Gandalf. "Could I trouble you to pour Gimli a glass of wine?"
"If it's all the same," said Gimli, "I'd rather have a beer, a good stout one, mind you."
"It just so happens," said Gandalf, "that Elrond keeps a keg on tap for various of the Men who visit from time to time. Legolas, be a good fellow and fetch a tankard."
Gandalf smiled innocently at Legolas, and it is much to the Elf's credit that he did not protest at the wizard's having again used the word 'fetch'. Instead, he obediently departed the room. 'I know what you are about, Gandalf', he said to himself as he descended the steps to the wine cellar. 'It is plain that you mean to lesson me in the need for humility. Very well. If you wish me to be humble, then humble I shall be. It shall not be said that Legolas Thranduilion is not up to any task set him by Gandalf the Grey'.
In the cellar, Legolas drew not one but two steins of beer before returning to Gandalf's chamber.
"Master Dwarf," he called as he entered the room, "here is a tankard of beer, and one extra lest Gandalf talk you dry."
Both Gandalf and Gimli looked surprised. Legolas remained standing after placing the tankards upon the table.
"Is there anything else you might be wanting, Master Dwarf? I shall be happy to fetch you anything you need. Cheese, perhaps, and bread? Or would you like an apple?"
"Salted pork?" asked Gimli hopefully.
"We haven't any salted pork, Master Dwarf, but we do have salted fish. I would be ever so glad to fetch you some."
Gandalf was gazing at Legolas through narrowed eyes.
"It is only a little while until dinner, Legolas. The beer will suffice, won't it, Gimli?"
"I suppose it will," Gimli conceded reluctantly, "if, as you say, it is not long until the evening meal."
"Indeed it is not. Sit down, Legolas."
"But, Gandalf—"
"Havo dad, Legolas!"
Careful not to smirk, Legolas sat down and counterfeited a great interest in the tale that Gimli resumed telling.
"Perhaps it has become difficult for Balin to send word to King Dain," the Dwarf was saying. "It may be that he can no longer spare any Dwarves as messengers. Or it may be that messages have gone astray in the vastness between Moria and Erebor."
"Or it may be," Gandalf pointed out, "that an ill fate has befallen Balin and his companions."
"Nay, Gandalf! Balin is a stout Dwarf, as are his companions."
"Time was when the stoutness of Dwarves was no match for the evil that had arisen in Moria."
"But that was long ago," argued Gimli.
"Some evil is ageless, my friend," Gandalf replied.
A bell sounded then. Gimli's face brightened.
"Dinner!" exclaimed the Dwarf, who had been visiting in Rivendell long enough to have learned to recognize several chimes, especially those pertaining to meals.
Gimli and Legolas both arose from their chairs, but Gandalf remained seated.
"You two go on ahead," he said, "for I wish to spend a little more time perusing this map."
Legolas had hoped that at the dinner table he would be able to put Gandalf between himself and Gimli, but now he knew that that would be impossible. He would enter the Dining Hall by the side of the Dwarf, and he would probably have to sit by him as well, as it would be noticed if Gimli went in one direction and Legolas another. Behind Gimli's back, the Elf glared at the wizard, who once again assumed an expression of utmost innocence.
'I will pay you back, Gandalf', Legolas vowed to himself before following Gimli from the room. "Oh, yes, Gandalf, be sure that I will!"
For now, however, he had no choice but to stroll by the side of the Dwarf, curbing both his impatience and his steps. Perhaps, he thought hopefully, another member of the Fellowship would join them before they reached the Dining Hall, in which case he might try to maneuver the newcomer between himself and the Dwarf. Ai! All the companions save Gandalf had preceded them into the hall. Three adjacent seats stood empty at the table set aside for the Fellowship. Legolas had a sudden flash of inspiration. As they reached the table, he said aloud, "Master Dwarf, Gandalf, being Maia and not mortal, is higher in dignity of any other of the Fellowship. It is fitting, therefore, that this seat in the center be reserved for him."
"Far be it from me to quarrel over a seat," replied the Dwarf. "I don't mind sitting to one side if that's what you mean to do as well."
"Yes, it would be an ill start to our Fellowship if you and I were to disagree over such a trifle."
Each went to either side, and each was well satisfied with the arrangement. For the Dwarf was as anxious to escape the Elf as the Elf was desirous of avoiding the Dwarf. "I hope you know what you have gotten yourself into," Gimli's father Gloin had fretted the night before the older Dwarf had set out to return to the Lonely Mountain. "'Tis a difficult task lies before you—an impossible task I would say didna I have more respect for Gandalf's opinions on the matter." Gloin shuddered at the thought of what lay before his son. "The Horror!" moaned Gloin, "the horror!"
"I know, Da," Gimli said gloomily. "I consider meself to be a doughty Dwarf, but I've lost some sleep over this one. But I'll guard meself as best I can."
"You see that you do, Son. If only you were up against a less fearsome creature. Truth be told, I'd druther see you face a dragon."
"Yes, for at least you know where you stand with a dragon. Now these creatures, who knows what they're thinkin' neath those smooth faces o' theirs."
Both Dwarves sat for awhile gloomily contemplating the perfidy of Elves and bemoaning the fact that for an untold number of months Gimli would be cast into the company of one. At last Gloin roused himself.
"Son, you be sure an' keep yer distance as much as you can."
Gimli assured his father that he would.
"Won't come within arm's length of 'im if I can help it, Da."
So it was that Gimli was pleased to have a chair standing between himself and the smooth-faced Elf. As for his own face, he gloated over its hirsute, dwarfly glory. Legolas, meanwhile, was similarly congratulating himself on his success at evading the Dwarf. As for his smooth face, he reveled in it. So Elf and Dwarf each possessed a surfeit of smugness as they awaited Gandalf's arrival.
In due course, the wizard entered the room and to his displeasure saw that Elf and Dwarf were no closer than before, save for the smugness they shared in common. He gave Legolas a hard look, and it was now the Elf's turn to smile innocently.
'Curséd thick-headedness of both races', the wizard muttered to himself. 'If only they knew how much alike they truly are. Ah, well, even if they won't be friends, they will be allies, for they are both honorable. Each has pledged himself to the Fellowship, and each will be true. Still, it would be pleasanter all around if they did not dislike each other so'.
Gandalf now turned his attention to the food, which was excellent, of course, for Elrond always set a good table. As he ate, he caught snatches of conversation. Gimli, on his one side, was itemizing, for the benefit of Pippin and Merry, the Orc necks he had hewn.
"Excuse me, Master Dwarf," Pippin asked politely, "but however do you reach?"
"Nothing easier, m'lad. First I cut 'em off at the knees. They drops down, and then it's a simple matter to detach heads from shoulders."
Gandalf both smiled at Gimli's boasts and felt wistfulness at the Halflings' innocent awe. 'Their awe may last a bit longer, but not their innocence,' he mused. 'As for Gimli, if his exploits have hitherto been more blustery than bloody, events will soon remedy that, I fear'.
From the other side, Gandalf overheard Legolas trying to draw out Boromir. Like Gimli, Boromir needed little encouragement to speak of his own exploits, but the Man's purposes in doing so were vastly different from those of the Dwarf. Gimli was a storyteller. Even if he was the main character of his own narratives, his purpose in telling his tales was to entertain his listeners. There was an unselfishness about Gimli that was almost childlike. Boromir, however, recounted his exploits not to entertain but to impress.
"Yes," he was saying to Legolas, "it is true that the forces of Gondor have but lately retaken Osgiliath from Sauron's hordes. I can easily satisfy your curiosity about that campaign, for my father entrusted me with its leadership."
The Man launched into a lengthy account of the battle, in which he returned again and again to his own part in it. Listening to him, Gandalf grew more and more uneasy. He compared Boromir's demeanor and words with those of Aragorn. Whenever the Ranger returned from the Wild, he would seek out Gandalf and report his doings. But the Dúnadan's emphasis was always on the strategic import of his deeds—the bearing they had upon the struggle of all Free Folk against the forces of Evil. He told of his exploits not to draw attention to his courage and prowess but so that they might be taken into account as Elrond and Gandalf considered what was best to be done.
'I wish Denethor had assigned Faramir this errand', fretted Gandalf. 'Indeed, it would have been more fitting, for Faramir dreamed repeatedly of the coming of the Ring, while to Boromir the dream came only once. Surely there was a reason for this!'
Between Faramir and Gandalf there was an understanding. Whenever the wizard had visited Minas Tirith, Boromir had dismissed him as of little interest, for Gandalf had not then worn his sword openly. To Boromir, then, he was naught but an agéd vagabond, weak and therefore pitiable. But Faramir, the younger son of the Steward, perceived the wisdom of Gandalf, and he knew that in wisdom, too, there is power. He spent hours with the wizard, answering his queries about conditions in Gondor, and taking counsel in return. His father, however, disapproved of the time that Faramir passed in Gandalf's company.
"Your brother improves himself upon the training field," Denethor rebuked Faramir, "whilst you while away the hours in a dusty library, in the company of one whose brain is no less filled with cobwebs. When will you show Boromir's zeal and vigor?"
Yet Faramir would not be swayed. Had Denethor been less imperious, he would have realized that this was itself a sign of vigor and zeal. Instead, the Steward grew more and more displeased with Faramir, and he did not trust his younger son when the time came to send a messenger to Imladris. When Boromir begged leave to take the errand upon his own shoulders, Denethor gladly gave permission, for he would have commanded him to go if he had not volunteered.
"I rely upon you to protect our interests, Boromir. You may find answers in Imladris, but do not expect to find allies! Above all, beware of Mithrandir and his machinations. Your first loyalty is to your own people. Do not become the wizard's tool, for his purposes may differ from ours."
And so Boromir had come to Imladris wary and mistrustful, his sole purpose to look to the needs of his own people, without regard to the safety of others. But the Council had not ended as he would have wished, and Boromir had thought it best to join the Fellowship. In that way he could at least be sure of the whereabouts of the Ring. For Boromir had not given over hopes that the Ring could be brought to Minas Tirith to serve in the defense of that City—and to raise the fortunes of his own family, which had begun to decline along with those of the City. Indeed, to raise his own fortunes, although he would have denied that such was his goal.
All this Gandalf perceived as he listened to Boromir brag of the victory at Osgiliath, a victory that Gandalf knew would be a fleeting one. Gandalf caught Legolas' eye, and the wizard nodded slightly. A message passed between Maia and Elda. Yes, Boromir would bear watching.
The dinner at an end, the Company withdrew to the Hall of Fire to enjoy one of the last evenings that they would be able to spend at ease. Aragorn quickly disappeared, and Gandalf knew that he had gone to walk with Arwen in some secluded dale. Then the wizard noticed that Legolas had likewise vanished.
'Probably trying to put some distance between himself and the Dwarf', Gandalf sighed to himself. 'Well, well, as long as they cooperate with each other, that will suffice, I suppose. I reckon that it was too much to hope that they would be friends'.
At length the evening drew on, and the remaining members of the Fellowship withdrew to their respective chambers. When Gandalf arrived at his, he thought he would indulge himself with a smoke before retiring. Absent-mindedly, he packed his pipe, lit it, and drew upon it.
"Paugh!" he gasped, hastily pulling the pipe from his mouth. "What is that taste? And that odor?"
He sniffed the air.
"Mint," he growled. "Someone has mixed mint into my pipe weed."
He heard singing and walked to the window to peer into the garden. There stood Legolas beside the statue of Gil-galad, looking up at the stars and singing.
"I'll warrant I know who meddled with my pipe weed," grumbled Gandalf. "If there were time, I should make him fetch me a barrel from the Shire. But there isn't time. Very well. I shall make him use his excellent elven vision to pick out each and every fragment of mint from my pipe weed. Yes, that shall be his penalty!"
With that, Gandalf retired to his rest, thinking ruefully to himself that not only Boromir but the Elf would 'bear watching'.
