They risked a fire that night, unwilling to go without a warm meal before they set off on their journey. They would have to move fast, for their pursuers had been gaining ground. Legolas knew they should have started off during the day, but he had feared upsetting Nimrodel. He was still unsure as to how to act around her, especially under these strange circumstances. Could status be disregarded momentarily in times of danger? Would that offend her? That was the last thing he wanted to do. He watched Nimrodel stare silently at the fire, smiling occasionally at Gimli as he told her tales of his ancestors.
"Why do you fear, young one?" Nimrodel's voice floated into his thoughts, so soft he almost thought it was a whisper from the tree beside him. He shook his head, and looked at her.
"I fear we let our enemy get an advantage over us. We have stalled today, and now we light a fire. We are certainly not hindering whoever follows us." He looked at Gimli, who looked rather upset that his story had been interrupted. He didn't realize just how close their pursuers had become.
"Well then, let us leave." Nimrodel said, pulling her cloak closer. Legolas sighed, and shook his head.
"I do not believe we should do that, my lady, for we do not know the forest here. Walking around in the dark is likely to do more harm than good." He said. Gimli nodded in approval. If Legolas didn't feel right traveling in the forest after nightfall, he was more than willing to stay, no matter what chased them.
"Then what should we do?" She asked.
"I think we should rest now, and leave when the sun rises in the morning."
Nodding, Nimrodel stood and walked to the edge of the clearing, curling up beside a large tree. Gimli watched her curiously, and then moved his attention back to the fire. After a few minutes he moved to a tree close to the fire and leaned against it.
"Sleep my friend," Legolas told him. "I will keep watch." Accepting this, Gimli closed his eyes.
Legolas looked at the huddled figure of Nimrodel covered by the shadows of the trees. When he spoke of an enemy, her bright eyes had looked at him fearfully, and then with quiet acceptance, had narrowed in determination. He knew she would not sleep, but spend the next few hours wrapped in thought. She would listen to the forest she had come to understand almost like her own Lorien, and try to determine how far away their pursuers were. The trees would know, and if you listened to their slow whispers long enough, they would tell you all you needed. After a while he found himself listening to them as well, with his thoughts lost in the soft hum of the forest.