A/N: I am a day or two late in my pledge to update every two weeks. I'm sorry. This chapter asked for some edits and polish in the last moments, and I chose to give them.

Before you read let me just thank everyone who responded in either a review of private email to my query posted in the last chapter. You blew me away! What wonderful replies! I'm not giving up this story, I just wanted to know why readers were falling away.

There are a few of you who worried that I might take the critique as harsh, but I assure you I read everything in a positive light and agree with almost all said. Besides, I knew I was inviting commentary when I posted. Everything is welcome. Thank you, thank you!

As for my reply, I know this story is thick and somewhat difficult to read. It's not a quick, fangirl story -- so true! But there are plenty of those out there and I don't feel much like rushing to an end. I think this story would be unrealistic if I did. My only wish is that I if I could I would write faster as to make this move at the same speed as many of those other fics. I suppose if I dedicated more hours of the day to writing... but my family would tell you I'm torn in too many directions as it is, so I guess I have to be happy for the output I do manage.

Many of you are frustrated and want to see Legolas' side of the tale. All I can say is there is a reason I've delayed it. Not telling you why. Nope, not yet. The good news is that we are two chapters away from being done with Part II, and after that it will be all-Legolas-all-the-time through Part III. Heck, you may even get bored with him after awhile. Part IV will bring everyone together again for final resolutions. I do have a plan you see. Hopefully the payoff for plodding along with me into non-Legolas territory will be worth it in the end.

Some of you don't like our orcs. I have to laugh at that! I don't want Irgluk to be liked. Pitied maybe, but not liked. But I will admit that the she-orc is somewhat gratuitous matter on my part. She has a purpose, though I suppose I could tell this story without really going into her circumstances. In fact, there was a time that I weighed not including her at all. Yet in the end I decided I liked her as an allegory, a symbol. To me she represents the dark side of self as well as redemption. I think she's important. Besides, I like stories that have hidden meaning. We'll see what you think of her when all is done.

So that said, enjoy this latest offering! And please do not hesitate to leave a review telling me what you might think. One word or a thousand, your comments are always, always welcome!

Dark Forest
By Anarithilien

Part II: In Realms Beyond
Chapter Thirty-Five: Quiet Storm

They were beyond the borders of Caras Galadhon and it was the day after the last, just as Gimli had requested it be before this journey began. The hardy dwarf stood on his own feet though he knew he was not really ready to do so. He was indeed still ill. Yet he was glad, despite the toil beset upon him by making this early journey. Though the dwarf would never be remiss in keeping company with Galadriel and her folk, he knew there were more pressing matters that demanded his attention, and the safety of his friend was foremost among them.

He feared for Legolas, so much so that he was willing to shortcut his own recovery in order to give his aid. They had been attacked and injured, and though he held hope for his friend's safety, a long time had passed since they had been separated. He knew Legolas well enough to conjure up a multitude of scenarios that kept the elf away. Usually they placed the elf searching for Gimli in and around Fangorn, and though those thoughts brought guilt to the dwarf, they also gave him surety that Legolas was safe. But those scenes did not play well when Gimli factored in the amount of time that had passed. A fortnight, and then some. Legolas would not been about his search for so long, and had he been hale he would have done just as Gimli had; he would have come to Lothlorien for aid. That he did not doomed the dwarf to believing a myriad of alternate scenarios in which Legolas had suffered a dire fate. Elf-kind or not, Legolas could be injured, and Gimli feared terribly that such had come to be.

So they had left, seeking out his friend. He and Thranduil. They made this journey together and never in his wildest imaginings could he have put such a picture together.

The dwarf stretched. He felt as if it should be far later in the day, but gazing to the sky he could see it was only the midday hour. He felt weary and stiff and his head pained him. That only added to his grim mood. But he also felt glad to be out of his bed. He knew that he was pushing himself in this endeavor -- likely he would suffer for it later when all was done -- but Legolas needed him now as he never had, and Gimli was nothing if not a stalwart and loyal friend. He traveled now for the sake of one in need, for loath though he was to admit it, he was certain that if he did not, Legolas would die.

Still, his body ached. He and his companions had found a place of rest outside the wood, giving Arod a short break for the second time this day from his task. Also they waited for yet more of the company to come, and though eager, Gimli was grateful for the halt. He'd forgotten how wearying riding could be even if the ride had been at a slow walk, and for his part he was happy to distance himself from the mental battle he had been struggling with in his ride. It would be upon him again soon enough, but for now he relished the peace brought to his mind. It was far easier to suffer just in anxiety than to be subject to such doubts as he had felt through the morning journey.

He looked around at the landscape, trying to find some strength and vigor in knowing that they were underway. The wood was at their backs instead of surrounding them, and open lands lay before them. To the west he could see the mountains, blue and smoky, whispers of winter snow already painting the peaks. A breeze brought the chill touch of colder weather with it, but for now it was a brilliant day, and if not with the warmth of prior seasons, the climate would remain mild for a time longer. Gimli inhaled deeply, finding the cool air modestly reviving him, dulling his aches and his doubts.

He came to sit, his back resting in the nook created by one of the last of the mallorns on the fringes of the golden wood. He eased himself into the cranny, gazing about him and remembering the day without the fog of an uneasy mind. Clarity was returning to him after his dismount from the back of the horse. He frowned, silently realizing the reasoning behind his difficulty. It stemmed from the shared ride. He and Thranduil had ridden together. Even from its outset it was to the dwarf's chagrin that they had done so, but Gimli truly had not been in a position to demand much. Despite the knowledge he wielded over the elf while they had been within Lothlorien's borders, now that they were beyond the great settlement and, with it, Galadriel and Celeborn's scrutiny. Thranduil was in control. Strangely, even though the elf king did not wear his Ring, he was the master of the moment.

But perhaps that was the way it was meant. In these hours, Gimli had come to realize just what the king experienced as a ring-bearer and he was beginning to see Thranduil through an unfiltered spectrum. The Lord of Mirkwood was not quite the elf Gimli had thought. Given distance now, the dwarf saw both frailty and surety in the king, hesitancy and thoughtful contemplation, even impertinence combined with patience. It all seemed a strange jumble of traits, but at the same time it seemed to be a truer register than Gimli had noted before. In many ways, he almost admired Thranduil for the strength he started to recognize hidden in the recesses of the elf's will. Elements of his friend were mixed in all of this as well, and he would readily admit he liked these peculiarities in Legolas.

It had been strange to see Thranduil's face in the dim, pre-dawn light. That was when their combined venture had begun. The elf had helped him escape the Houses of Healing. Gimli had been startled at first, blinking to wakefulness with his dreams still prodding his sense of awareness and causing the dwarf confusion. If the king's voice were less deep and his jaw less stern, the illusion would have been complete; waking to this, Gimli had momentarily thought the elf Legolas and that they were off on another one of their adventures. Oft in their latest days were they rising and leaving in the early morning light. But Gimli had recovered enough so as not to appear befuddled before the king; it was only in his awareness that he felt off-balance. But once he was grounded he was capable of realizing Thranduil journeyed without wearing the Ring. This too had startled him and started him on this endeavor of contemplation.

Not that the Ring was far. Gimli could feel It. Like that of the Ring Frodo had borne, Thranduil's Ring had weight, a personality it might be called. It had a voice, though it was not resonant and commanding like that which the One Ring had. This Ring felt more like a yearning, a pull upon the dwarf, and Gimli suspected It was calling him. But Gimli was more resilient than that. He had resisted the lure of the One Ring for months and months, and if he could withstand that, he could resist the desires instilled by this lesser Ring. Or so he thought.

Of course there were Rings that could do good, and now that Sauron had been destroyed, Gimli imagined the original intent of Thranduil's Dwarf Ring had been restored. But Gimli also had to imagine the Ring had been tainted by the evil that had possessed It all those years, and so he still thought It a tool of devilry.

Yet he conceded good magic could be found through the many Rings that had been crafted. After all, he attributed much of his own healing to the Ring Galadriel wore. All through the prior day Galadriel had plied him with her drink and ministrations. As if she knew I planned to leave and was doing what she could to heal me while I yet remained, he thought. For any reason, he was grateful to her.

Still, he was lucky his legs held him, hence his need to sit with the tree to support him. In fact the world was quite lopsided and strange and he felt as if he were on the deck of some roiling ship. But for the sake of getting to Legolas quickly, he would do this and more. The memories of his dreams had not left him, and though he was not prescient by any means, when it came to elves, he was willing to accept magic as a part of their makeup and that he had been gifted with insights too whilst in their presence. He'd seen too much evidence of magic to quibble otherwise.

After Thranduil had helped him leave his bed Gimli had been left to wait while Thranduil had gone to fetch Arod. Gimli had shaken his head with dark chagrin when he saw that the horse followed the elf king of its own accord, as if he had been following Legolas. Gimli wondered if it would have been so had Thranduil had been wearing the Ring just then and he narrowed his eyes thinking perhaps not. He drew strength from that thought, pulling from his reserve of anger. He could not forget his anger in all of this.

The dwarf had hoped they would have no encounters along the way for he was not sure how they would explain themselves. In a short time though he realized that was not to be the case. Their discovery came.

Seemingly appearing out of nothing, a tall, broad figure emerged from the shadows. Fair in hair like all the Galadhrim, this elf had been muscled in greater mass than much of his kin though his eyes had been just as keen. A spark of amusement had danced in them for a moment before a mask of cool detachment had come over the full of his features. Glancing first at Gimli in a discerning fashion, and then at Thranduil, the elf of the Golden Wood had spoken, directing his words to the elf king.

"You leave?" Haldir had asked simply enough, and Gimli smiled inwardly at the memory. The warden was not an elf of expansive words though Gimli sensed in this simple question that Haldir was glad to see the elf king leave.

"I do," Thranduil had answered succinctly as well. There was a note of arrogance in his reply and again Gimli read the subtle hint of dislike between the two though he couldn't really perceive reason.

The Lothlorien elf had then glanced at Gimli before turning his gaze again on the elf king. "He travels with you," Haldir had stated. There was no question in his voice this time.

Thranduil hesitated for only a moment before drawing up to his full height. "He does," he had replied in proud demeanor and Gimli found himself looking again to see if the Ring had been there upon the king's hand. It had not though the elf's confidence would have made him think it so.

The marchwarden had nodded then, seeming to accept this. The need for further conversation had apparently been unmet. "The sun rises and the day progresses," he had said, turning to Gimli. "Let us get you upon your mount so that you may make your way well."

Stunned by the unquestioning manner in this reply, Gimli had been left to stammer, "You-- you aid us?" He had not thought it would be so easy to leave.

Haldir had blinked once at the dwarf, then had glanced again at the elf king before turning back to Gimli in answer. He offered his arm in assistance and Gimli had gladly taken it. "I understand your mission, Gimli Gloinson of Erebor, and for those that would ask I interpret it as needs be: you go on a simple ride. Will that not suffice?"

Gimli was surprised in this answer for he had expected they would encounter some resistance, arguments that he should not leave when so ill. Further he thought Thranduil might face an offer of aid from his elf kin, a gesture that would have demanded they remain until Gimli was more healed. He had not expected this easy acceptance.

With a fluid gesture Haldir then had cupped his hands and foisted the dwarf onto Arod's back before the dwarf even had time to think about the action. "You will be gone a short while, I assume, doing nothing more than riding about these forest lands. That is what I will tell any who might ask."

"Is that what you will tell your lady?" Thranduil had murmured, and it was in this query that the dwarf saw Haldir's face register foreboding. Gimli noted it because he felt it himself. There was derision in the words 'your lady' that, though subtle, marked Thranduil's disdain for the queen of these fair woods. That is why Haldir feels no affection for the king, Gimli thought, and he could understand for at that moment he felt much the same.

Haldir's brow had knitted as he drew Gimli's hands about the withers. It appeared he considered the kings words. "You fear that I would betray you? I think it is the Healers you should fear more, my lord, not the Lady. Our fair Galadriel shares your cause, whereas," he smiled ruefully, "Healers are no friend to me."

Gimli had glanced at Thranduil then, and something of remorse flitted in the king's eyes. If Gimli were to put words to the wave of those emotions, he would say the elf felt a change of heart. But the change was fleeting, and a moment later Thranduil had schooled his expression and he was again masked in complacency. "Very well then. We would be off if you should give us leave."

Haldir nodded. "A simple ride around the wood then, as I said. The Healers will not think Gloinson well enough, but I oft find time in the wood to be more healing than time abed. It is a curative many of my people would adhere to. Let us see you off."

That was all that was said for a time. Haldir led them on, not parting them but guiding, and Arod had followed without being directed. After a short while Gimli realized they were going by a shortened route, one that did not circle the city but rather cut through it. This was a gift, he knew, for several hours were being lessened from their trip though the dwarf had found himself exhausted and stiff despite the narrowed journey. Further, they encountered few in those dim hours and were left on their way without any other question. Still it was a few hours later when they had stopped for a rest and Gimli had been glad to step down from his mount and stretch.

"The remains of your entourage arrive," Haldir had announced then, looking off into what distance the wood provided. "This is not the full of your contingent though."

Thranduil's eyes had followed his and he had nodded as three more elves appeared carrying packs and supplies. Unlike the Galadhrim, they were clad in greens and greys, and Gimli had recognized them immediately as elves from Mirkwood.

"I had sent out scouts several days ago when Galadriel first told me we should seek Fangorn Forest," Thranduil supplied as if they had been conversing all along on this road. "They search the perimeters of that wood looking for signs of my son. But those soldiers have not returned from their missions yet. We will hope that they find us as we journey further. My cousin would not have me travel unescorted."

Haldir nodded in agreement. "A king should not go unprotected," he said. He then quirked a brow and turned to Gimli. He unfastened the knife he kept at his belt and handed it to the dwarf. "You may need this." Gimli felt gratified. He had known he was traveling without weapons, having left his own in Fangorn, but he had had little choice. Had he had been leaving in a more formal setting he might have asked if the elves had a blade or two they might spare. But leaving in clandestine fashion as they were, he had not had the opportunity to make such inelegant requests. Gratefully, Haldir had anticipated his need. The weapon was not an axe, but it had a sharp blade and a well-crafted handle. It was a good tool.

Turning back to the elf king, Haldir had then said, "I know few warriors as fierce as Gimli of the Lonely Mountain and I am sure my lady would concur. None can now say you will go unguarded, Lord Thranduil."

He had then stepped to the river stream beside which their path had meandered. Gimli had then recognized the place. The small bed was the Nimrodel where the Fellowship had once taken healing from the waters. From across his shoulder, Haldir had drawn off his waterskin. Uncorking it, he had dipped it into the water and refilled the flask. The companions in Thranduil's party had then done the same as Haldir stepped away, recorking the bottle, and handing it over to the dwarf.

He had followed this action then by unclasping his cape and throwing it over the dwarf's shoulders. The temperature was much different from when he had last been in the elements. The air had been sultry and thick then; now it was crisp and chilled. Gimli's clothes had been clean and mended, but when he and Legolas had been attacked, he had been caught in the rain without his helm or armor or his Galadhrim cape. That loss had contributed to his feeling of vulnerability. But this gift from Haldir had helped.

But the next part of this recollection made Gimli frown. Haldir had then turned to briefly gaze at Thranduil and again at the others. Haldir had fixed his eyes upon the dwarf and questioned, "Who rides with you now?"

It had taken Gimli a moment to understand the meaning of that question. For the first time that morning, Gimli had found himself at odds with the elf. "With me? No one rides with me. We set out together, but to ride, I do this alone," he had exclaimed.

But Haldir had shaken his head. "Your horse is hesitant to let you do such, and it was my understanding Legolas always directed when you jointly sat this mount," he had said.

Gimli had looked at the horse then just as he did now. He scowled as he recalled that the animal had pushed his snout into the dwarf's shoulder as if he were giving him a jocular shove. As if he had been saying, 'So he did!' Gimli thought. In present he wondered if a conspiracy was afoot, for Legolas, like Haldir, oft put words into this beast's mouth. But Gimli had ignored the first part of the comment, and had addressed the second. "Legolas is not here with me. I will ride alone."

But Haldir again had shaken his head. "That would not be wise." One brow shot up as he had explained, "Your cure has been swift, but I have been watching and your strength is not fully returned. It would be prudent for you to have an experienced rider with you in case you find yourself weakening."

"You just proclaimed me a fierce warrior!" Though the dwarf had known him right, he had argued all the same. "I do not weaken."

Haldir had pursed his lips as if he were about to retort, but instead Thranduil had interjected, "I will ride with him." Haldir had smiled then and it was clear this was exactly what he had been looking for.

Of course, Gimli was not pleased by this. But they had journeyed this far and in Gimli's mind there was no turning back. Further, he had no leverage over Haldir and so was lost for an argument. Instead, he had dropped his gaze, essentially admitting he would not fight. He might be physically ill but his mind was not muddled. He could contrive reason to acquiesce to this request and the king's closeness would give him opportunity to speak his mind as space would not.

One of Thranduil's people, a valet or aide, Gimli guessed, had been at Thranduil's side then, offering his cupped hands, and the elf quickly had mounted, followed next by the dwarf, sitting in his customary place as he did with Legolas; he sat at the king's back. It was then that Gimli had felt the Ring nearest and knew Thranduil carried It even if he did not wear It.

Their parting then from Haldir was simple, without any fanfare. The elf had simply uttered the customary words of departure and faded into the shroud of the forest spaces.

And so they set on, their journey simply theirs now. Silence had fallen over the group.

Gimli had never been a talkative fellow. Among dwarves he was considered somewhat remote. Yet while upon the Quest, he had been a vociferous fellow, speaking more for the sake of assuring the Hobbits than revealing his true self. He preferred it though when he had been left to Legolas alone. His more silent nature came out then, and Legolas never prodded him for conversation when they were out in the wilds. There, stealth was important and the elf appreciated that. Still, Gimli knew on this journey that it would be upon him to speak. He felt it his duty to examine the reasoning of this elf's actions and to make Thranduil realize the harm he had caused.

If only he could.

It was the feelings the Ring stirred that took over his mind and, in that way, their journey.

It was powerful and distracting though he did not realize It was acting upon him until he had dismounted and was now in the present. Being so near. It was disconcerting and It hampered Gimli's certainty of everything including the need to bear conversation with this elf.

From the very minute they set out, riding together, he began to doubt himself. The silence of the elves was peaceable and comforting, and like his journeying with Legolas he felt secure in it. To speak meant he would destroy that, and if he were to do so he should better be ready with his arguments. But those did not seem so heavy now that he was in the company of Thranduil. It had been easier to hate the elf when he had not been with him. He wondered for a time if it might be better to leave off at what had happened between Legolas and his father, to keep the matter theirs alone. After all, this was not his dispute; it belonged to his friend.

But then the memory of Legolas' pain assaulted him, and he knew for his friend that he must become involved. Could he truly let this elf confront Legolas without the dwarf expressing his place as a supporter? Legolas needed him to anchor his resolve. Thranduil should know, truly, what he had done, for if nothing else Gimli felt certain Legolas would not openly bring up past wounds. He'll skirt the issue, the dwarf thought, masking his hurts and never getting to the heart of it. That was what Legolas had done before. So like an elf, never speaking his mind directly. And so Gimli mustered again his will to speak, using ire to encourage him. He thought too that the elf king had shown that he could not be parted from his jewel. This angered him as well; it showed weakness on the elf's part.

But in the next moment he was left to contemplate the opposite. When he considered the possessive power the One Ring had had he supposed it was no small thing to even remove such a gem from one's hand. He wavered, thinking the elf king bore unseen strength. But then he relinquished, remembering again his friend's suffering at the hands of this elf, resolving to speak once more.

Yet again he wondered if it was really his place to speak. He was no elf. Certainly there must be reasons as to why Thranduil acted as he did, for none except those purely driven by evil were compelled to dark acts. Desperate as the dwarf was to hate the king, he did not find Thranduil to be thoroughly a creature of evil. In fact, despite the king's blustering ways, compared with the darkness Gimli had met on his journeys, Thranduil barely registered as a source of harm. Nay, this was not his to engage in!

At present though, Legolas could not speak for himself. And what if he never did! What if, in the end, they found his elf friend dead, shorn from this life simply because he sought answers to what his father had done to him? Could Gimli simply let such a thing go without expressing his disdain for what the elf did? Further, would he not want to know why such things had even happened? He must speak!

But the mental battle waged kept words from coming. In all several hours passed in silent jousting and Gimli felt as if he had been arguing with Thranduil throughout. His head pained him for his struggles, and he wondered if he had it in him to continue in such close proximity to the source of his puzzlement. It was the Ring that was doing this to him.

And now they rested. The distance from the king and his unseen jewel was blissful reprieve.

They rested.

They had picked up two more elves in this wait, both dressed in the greens and grays that marked them as Mirkwood elves. They were only seven in the company, himself included. He would have expected more in the king's guard.

"We may meet up with more of my warriors as we travel," Thranduil then said as if reading his thoughts and thus breaking the silence of their camp.

But as they waited no more elves came and Gimli, from his distance, marked impatience emanating from his host. He felt similarly. The quiet storm of their journey so far was over. It was time to speak his mind and somehow he would muster the strength to do such. Knowing now Its influence, he decided the Ring would not keep him from it.

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They waited. Irgluk could feel her heart beating in apprehension as they did. Dark premonitions danced in her mind, nervous hesitancy gripping her. She feared death was near though she had no clear reason for believing this.

She knew, given the mood of quiet excitement elicited by the other orcs around her that she should feel victorious. None could have predicted their current situation; in her assessment, they were lucky just to be alive. The elves' invasion of their hiding place had taken them completely by surprise. Fortunately the elves that had come upon them had been surprised too, not anticipating their foe's huge number when they had seemingly wandered upon the den. The three elves traveling over these fields between the wood and the mountains had come to death quickly under orc blades. That did not change the way she felt though. A strange wariness laid upon her in her worry, and she felt heavy with the thought of it.

The others seemed not to notice her ill feelings. They feasted on the bodies of the dead while they shored up their burrows. They were free of Mirkwood's eaves and far out in the plains, but still they had a distance to travel before they would reach the mountains their leader was guiding them to. The daylight hours weakened them and so they had taken to digging holes in the earth in those last hours of the night so that they might hide from the sun. They would leave their current hole when the day moved to evening.

But in the meantime she felt her anxiety mount. She could not stop imagining that there were more elves out there, waiting to attack. It was her experience that elves did not roam in small numbers unless they were scouts for a larger force. And should she be right, she was surely doomed, for her fetal sac had broken and the pains were starting to come. It would not be long before the birthing process would overwhelm her and she would be so overcome by it that she would be useless in a fight. The only good she saw was that once the labor progressed it would only be a short while before the babe would be out of her belly.

Until then, she hunkered down into her hole and waited for the inevitable to come. She had no gods that she could pray to, but she clung to something that she could not even name -- an instinct perhaps -- that if she put an open plea out to the world at large her worries might be allayed and she would be saved. She had nothing else. And so she sat alone, her pains her only company as her final fate drew near from the plains above and around her.

TBC