Author's note: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, they keep me writing (and keep me halfway sane). Prepare for some violence in the coming chapters.

Chapter Two: Onward

A Olórin i yáresse

Mentaner i Númeherui

Tíren i Rómenóri

Maiaron i Oiosaila

Manan elye etevanne

Nórie i melanelye?

Mithrandir, Mithrandir, A Randir Vithren

Ú-reniathach i amar galen

I reniad lín ne mór, nuithannen

In gwidh ristennin, i fae narchannen

I lach Anor ed ardhon gwannen

Caled veleg, ethuiannen.

"A Lament for Gandalf..."

" What does it say?"

" I dare not tell... for me the grief is yet too near..."

Mithrandir, Mithrandir...

When Aragorn awoke he found his rough cheeks wet with tears, his lips forming the word, and in his head the memories of the night in Lothlórien gave birth to a new flood of grief for Gandalf, ever so much stronger in sleep than in the waking hours, where purpose staved off sadness. In the brief time between sleep and wakefulness, he blearily wondered if they would ever see him again, or if the horrid sight at Khazad-dúm had truly been the final moments of the great wizard. A fresh tear escaped him, and he became aware of the world again.

It was nearly dawn, and birds were beginning to stir in the boughs above him. He sat up, rubbing the tears from his face and the sleep from his eyes, and ran a hand through his dark hair, looking round the clearing and wondering why he had been left to sleep for so long.

Beside him Gimli still snored, no doubt wandering the long halls of Moria in his dreams, for only in the dwarf's dreams could he hear the voices of his people there again. A pang of sadness swept Aragorn on Gimli's behalf. So much loss...

Legolas sat with his back to a great oak, his hands resting on his bow- a gift from Galadriel in the havens of Lothlórien, where it seemed evil could not find foothold. He was watching Aragorn silently and smiled when his gaze was met.

" You didn't wake me sooner?"

Legolas shook his head, a serene look upon his face. " Nay, I needed you not. The council of the forest brings more comfort and benefit than sleep."

" Shall we wake Gimli and eat, then?"

" Wake Gimli, and eat if you must, but make no fire in these woods."

Aragorn needed no explanation. He nodded and rose to his feet, wincing as his joints popped loudly in the still morning air. " Have you heard anything more of the orcs?"

" They have traveled again, out of the forest and into the great plains beyond. We must move soon, for they will meet with the others soon, I am sure of it. In the open plains their scent roams freely, and it is the only path East that leads to Moria. They will unite soon, if they have not done so yet."

" We will have to be very careful in the plains, then," Gimli spoke up, hearing the conversation and injured that he had not been a part of it. " Though it may be difficult going if some of us continue to hold counsel without all ears present."

Aragorn furrowed his brow. " Gimli, you were asleep..."

" I was no such thing!" the dwarf argued, rising to his feet and going to them, too defensive, his hand too close to the hilt of his great axe.

" Friend Gimli," Legolas stepped in, hands up in pacification, "we meant to harm to you by 'holding counsel', as you say. We have no secrets betwixt us. I must admit, I am slightly confused by your reaction, but I shall not argue the matter with you. Please stay your hand, son of Gloin."

Grumbling, the dwarf moved to the baggage by there he had slept, and began removing food from the parcels stored there, including flint, tinder, and a pan to fry the salted raw meat that he had brought from his homeland.

Legolas was the first to take note of this, and he shook his head at Gimli.

" No, Gimli- we must not make a fire. We discussed this matter already. It is not safe."

" You discussed it without me."

" And yet you claim to have been awake, and heard every bit," Aragorn pointed out, trying to keep the puzzled anger from his voice. " Why do you stand against us so, Gimli?"

The dwarf's hands suddenly fell to his sides, and he looked up, weary and helpless. " I...I do not know," he whispered. " It seems, ever since we hove onto these shores and into this forest, a dark thing has been brooding at the back of my mind. It has made me angry and suspicious when I know I have no right to be." He sighed heavily, and sat upon the ground, placing the cooking tools back into their bags. " Please forgive me, friend Legolas, and friend Aragorn. I meant not what I said..." His eyes dimmed with perhaps the hint of tears, and his shoulders hunched as though he bore a great burden. The others shifted uncomfortably.

"Of course you didn't, sir dwarf," Aragorn suddenly said briskly, attempting to spare Gimli as much embarrassment and shame as possible. " Now then, I say we take sustenance as we walk, and set out this very minute, while the sun is warm on our backs and the birds sings to us in the trees."

Both were in agreement, and soon they were on their way, the darkness gone from Gimli's face and words. As they traveled he sang an old mining song in a strong gruff voice, more relieved and happier than he had been in a long time.

Truly, he thought, there must be no companions more loyal, to forgive me of my actions this day.

So he sang, and his heart gladdened.

O'er hill and dale and fields pale

The ground is soft; Our hammers fail

To serve us any proper use

But when the mountains loom ahead

We rest there, take our daily bread,

And then set our hammers loose!

Down deep, and deeper, and deeper still

With hammer and pick as strong as will

We shake great mountains loose!

Legolas smiled at the song's rough charm, and they embarked upon the days journey with an extra spring in their step, telling stories of older and less burdened times, laughing and pausing sadly at intervals, each strengthened by the bond of friendship they held amongst them. New hope blossomed where there had once been none.

Behind them, a shadow bared its feral teeth in the fury of defeat.