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Night had already fallen hours ago as Gimli, son of Gloin made his way back to the house close to the palace where the fellowship lived in during their stay in the white city of Gondor. The war of the ring was over and Aragorn had finally wed Arwen, daughter of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell.
Many feasts were held in this time of hard won peace and the members of the fellowship could be seen attending many of them. Tonight the hobbits had left soon, leaving Gimli to the task of retelling their adventures for the umpteenth time. Legolas had not joined at all and Gimli suspected him to be outside of town somewhere, no doubt close to some of his beloved trees. Living in this city of stone did not sit well with the elf.
The house was dark as Gimli entered, his steps relatively quiet despite the amount of ale he had drunk to moisten his throat during his long tale. He found the way to the room he shared with Legolas in the dark without problems. A lamp turned low was burning in the room, emitting just enough light to make out contours in the dark. Gimli closed the door behind him and cast a glance towards the bed close to the window. The elf did not need sleep they way mortals did and so many nights his bed stayed empty while he wandered under the stars, doing whatever elves did while sane people slept. As expected the bed was empty and Gimli turned up the light. Sitting down on his bed he took of his boots and with a content sigh he let himself fall backwards on the bed. The meal had been good and the ale even better. After the hardship of the last year things like that were appreciated even more.
He must have dozed of for when a strange sound woke him the lamp was still burning, filling the room with its flickering light. Upon hearing the sound again Gimli sat up, a frown appearing on his face. It sounded like steps outside of this room, but slow and heavy. Not the step of a hobbit or an elf.
Silently the dwarf got to his feet and stepped closer to the door, listening intently. Another of this steps, seemingly coming closer. Moving fast Gimli got hold of his axe, preparing to face whoever dared to intrude this house.
He listened again and as soon as another sound told him the position of the person outside he slammed open the door and raised his axe, attacking with a speed one would not have expected from him.
His opponent reacted quickly but not quick enough and found himself forced against the wall, a cry of pain escaping him and the sharp blade of the axe threateningly pressed against his throat. Gimli froze the moment he made out the face in the dim light and lowered his axe. So it had been the step of an elf after all.
'Legolas! What possesses you to trample through the house like an oliphant? Have you lost that elven ability to walk silently?'
'I beg your forgiveness, friend Gimli, I did not mean to wake you.' The elf answered softly, reminding the dwarf to lower his voice.
With a shake of his head Gimli let him go, stepping away from him. Legolas was wrapped tightly in his cloak and made no move, his breathing sounding slightly labored. Something seemed not right with him.
'I never heard an elf making so much noise.' Gimli grumbled. A sudden idea formed and he stepped closer again, to take a better look at his friend.
'Are you drunk?'
A short laugh escaped Legolas ending in something similar to a gasp.
'No, Gimli I am not.' He straightened and took a few steps, passing the dwarf and entering the room. Gimli watched quietly, a frown on his face. The elf's movement were far from his usual easy grace. He followed him into the room, closing the door once more and returning his axe to its resting place. Then his eyes returned to his friend.
He was sitting on his bed now, his cloak still wrapped around him. But in the light of the room the dark bruise and the dried blood on his face was plainly to see and sudden understanding dawned on Gimli.
'You are hurt.'
The elf did not deny it, simply looking back at him for a moment. His face seemed much too pale.
'What happened?'
The elf shook his head.
'I do not wish to speak of it.'
With a frown Gimli looked at him, trying to read the look in his wide eyes. Pain he could easily detect as well as a certain determination and he decided to let the matter rest for now.
'What is it that you can not tell me after waking me in the middle of the night? Have you fallen of a tree?'
But Legolas did not raise to his bait.
'Return to sleep, my friend, I do not wish to keep you from your rest.' Was all he said, his hand moving towards the lamp to turn it down. The light dimmed and the room fell into near darkness.
Slightly angry at being dismissed like that Gimli settled down on his bed again. He found himself listening to the rustle of cloth as Legolas laid down, his eyes wandering to the other bed. The sight he could make out in the dim light shocked him deeply.
Ever since he had known Legolas he had never seen him sleep in another position than laying on his back, his hands resting on his chest. But now he could see him resting on his side.
He rose again, his fingers finding the lamp, turning it up once more. He stepped to Legolas side, looking down on him. To his surprise the elf's eyes were vacant, his breathing slow and even. He had fallen asleep in this few moments.
For a few seconds Gimli only gazed at him, wondering at the strange sight. Then he reached out a tentative hand, tugging away the cloak that was still draped over his frend. His face grow darker as he noticed the bruising on Legolas' forearms, looking like dark fingerprints on the pale skin. Taking a step closer he leaned over to take a look at the elf's back, wondering what might cause him to sleep in this unusual position.
He froze, a look of dark anger crossing his face. He could not believe what he saw. The light silver tunic was torn to shreds and soaked with blood. The patches of skin visible were covered with welts and dried blood. The elf had been whipped.
He took a step back, immense anger welling up. He considered Legolas a friend and a good one. To see him harmed like that was more than his temper could take. Placing his hand on Legolas' shoulder that seemed to be free of welts he gently shook him, careful to not inflict further pain.
'Legolas.'
He watched as awareness slowly returned, much slower than usual. Maybe sleeping was part of the elven healing. Why had Legolas not said that he had been attacked, surely not even his stubborn pride would go so far as hiding injuries like this?
'Legolas?'
'Mhhm.'
Not the most eloquent answer but a sign he was awake. The dark eyes focused on Gimli and Legolas moved to sit up. With a moan he sank back as the movement jarred at his wounds and pain shot through him, making him dizzy.
'Crazy elf.' Gimli grumbled, hiding the stab of compassion he felt at his friends obvious pain. 'You should not move.'
'Thanks for pointing this out to me.' Legolas weakly responded. Part of him was relieved he had not to hide this from his friend any longer, part of him dreaded what was to come.
'Who did this?' Gimli demanded.
'I can not tell you.'
'You can not or you will not?' the dwarf asked, his voice harsh.
No answer came and he gave his friend a grim smile.
'I know not why you tried to hide this and hold back who did it. But I know that you have been hurt badly. I will get a healer.'
A hand grasped his arm as he turned away and he stopped, looking at his friend's pale face.
'No, Gimli, I do not need a healer. I do not wish for anybody to know what happened.'
'I do not understand. You have been attacked and hurt, right here in the White City of Gondor. At least Aragorn should know.'
Legolas closed his eyes, trying to find the words to convince his friend.
'It is Aragorn I do not wish to know of this. But trust me my friend if I say the matter is not settled yet. I was taken unaware and in no fair fight and I will seek retribution for that.'
Although his voice was weak and full of pain there was a glimmer in his eyes that made Gimli belief him without doubt. He knew him after all, knew his pride and his skills as a fighter. Whoever had done this would be sorry.
A grim smile played around Legolas' lips for a moment and his next words echoed Gimli's thoughts.
'They will be sorry that they did not kill me when they had the chance.'
'But your wounds need to be tended. I will resign to call a healer and do it myself if you can bring yourself to tell me the whole story.'
He knew the dwarf well enough to know this was the most he could get from him. So Legolas did not hesitate to agree.
'If you promise to not tell either Aragorn nor Arwen I will tell you.'
Gimli nodded, satisfied with this answer. Then he left Legolas' bedside to collect warm water and clean sheets to use them as bandages.
After removing the cloak he helped Legolas to lay down on his stomach, noticing the slight trembling and the draining of any color from his face. It was a task he that he would have wished for anyone else to do as he tried to be as gentle as he could, but removing the torn clothing sticking to the encrusted welts on the elf's back could not be done without causing pain. He could feel every tensing of the slender body, every wince. Many of the wounds broke open again and blood flowed freely. Finally the last shred was removed.
The whipping had been severe and Gimli needed to get clean water several times before he had cleaned away dirt and blood to his satisfaction.
He tried hard not to hear the hisses of pain and low moans coming from his friend as he worked. His anger was burning at the damage done but his fingers were gentle and careful.
He helped the elf into a sitting position once more to wrap his torso in bandages.
Legolas finally rested on his stomach again and Gimli went to dispose of the bloody water and cloths. When he returned he stepped to his friends bedside. With surprise he noticed the vacant stare in the dark eyes and sighed.
'I guess I will need to wait a little while longer to hear your story my friend.'
Pulling up the sheets he covered the still body with them and returned to his own bed. But sleep eluded him as he listened to the even breathing of the elf, wondering who could have any reason to hurt him like this.
Night had already fallen hours ago as Gimli, son of Gloin made his way back to the house close to the palace where the fellowship lived in during their stay in the white city of Gondor. The war of the ring was over and Aragorn had finally wed Arwen, daughter of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell.
Many feasts were held in this time of hard won peace and the members of the fellowship could be seen attending many of them. Tonight the hobbits had left soon, leaving Gimli to the task of retelling their adventures for the umpteenth time. Legolas had not joined at all and Gimli suspected him to be outside of town somewhere, no doubt close to some of his beloved trees. Living in this city of stone did not sit well with the elf.
The house was dark as Gimli entered, his steps relatively quiet despite the amount of ale he had drunk to moisten his throat during his long tale. He found the way to the room he shared with Legolas in the dark without problems. A lamp turned low was burning in the room, emitting just enough light to make out contours in the dark. Gimli closed the door behind him and cast a glance towards the bed close to the window. The elf did not need sleep they way mortals did and so many nights his bed stayed empty while he wandered under the stars, doing whatever elves did while sane people slept. As expected the bed was empty and Gimli turned up the light. Sitting down on his bed he took of his boots and with a content sigh he let himself fall backwards on the bed. The meal had been good and the ale even better. After the hardship of the last year things like that were appreciated even more.
He must have dozed of for when a strange sound woke him the lamp was still burning, filling the room with its flickering light. Upon hearing the sound again Gimli sat up, a frown appearing on his face. It sounded like steps outside of this room, but slow and heavy. Not the step of a hobbit or an elf.
Silently the dwarf got to his feet and stepped closer to the door, listening intently. Another of this steps, seemingly coming closer. Moving fast Gimli got hold of his axe, preparing to face whoever dared to intrude this house.
He listened again and as soon as another sound told him the position of the person outside he slammed open the door and raised his axe, attacking with a speed one would not have expected from him.
His opponent reacted quickly but not quick enough and found himself forced against the wall, a cry of pain escaping him and the sharp blade of the axe threateningly pressed against his throat. Gimli froze the moment he made out the face in the dim light and lowered his axe. So it had been the step of an elf after all.
'Legolas! What possesses you to trample through the house like an oliphant? Have you lost that elven ability to walk silently?'
'I beg your forgiveness, friend Gimli, I did not mean to wake you.' The elf answered softly, reminding the dwarf to lower his voice.
With a shake of his head Gimli let him go, stepping away from him. Legolas was wrapped tightly in his cloak and made no move, his breathing sounding slightly labored. Something seemed not right with him.
'I never heard an elf making so much noise.' Gimli grumbled. A sudden idea formed and he stepped closer again, to take a better look at his friend.
'Are you drunk?'
A short laugh escaped Legolas ending in something similar to a gasp.
'No, Gimli I am not.' He straightened and took a few steps, passing the dwarf and entering the room. Gimli watched quietly, a frown on his face. The elf's movement were far from his usual easy grace. He followed him into the room, closing the door once more and returning his axe to its resting place. Then his eyes returned to his friend.
He was sitting on his bed now, his cloak still wrapped around him. But in the light of the room the dark bruise and the dried blood on his face was plainly to see and sudden understanding dawned on Gimli.
'You are hurt.'
The elf did not deny it, simply looking back at him for a moment. His face seemed much too pale.
'What happened?'
The elf shook his head.
'I do not wish to speak of it.'
With a frown Gimli looked at him, trying to read the look in his wide eyes. Pain he could easily detect as well as a certain determination and he decided to let the matter rest for now.
'What is it that you can not tell me after waking me in the middle of the night? Have you fallen of a tree?'
But Legolas did not raise to his bait.
'Return to sleep, my friend, I do not wish to keep you from your rest.' Was all he said, his hand moving towards the lamp to turn it down. The light dimmed and the room fell into near darkness.
Slightly angry at being dismissed like that Gimli settled down on his bed again. He found himself listening to the rustle of cloth as Legolas laid down, his eyes wandering to the other bed. The sight he could make out in the dim light shocked him deeply.
Ever since he had known Legolas he had never seen him sleep in another position than laying on his back, his hands resting on his chest. But now he could see him resting on his side.
He rose again, his fingers finding the lamp, turning it up once more. He stepped to Legolas side, looking down on him. To his surprise the elf's eyes were vacant, his breathing slow and even. He had fallen asleep in this few moments.
For a few seconds Gimli only gazed at him, wondering at the strange sight. Then he reached out a tentative hand, tugging away the cloak that was still draped over his frend. His face grow darker as he noticed the bruising on Legolas' forearms, looking like dark fingerprints on the pale skin. Taking a step closer he leaned over to take a look at the elf's back, wondering what might cause him to sleep in this unusual position.
He froze, a look of dark anger crossing his face. He could not believe what he saw. The light silver tunic was torn to shreds and soaked with blood. The patches of skin visible were covered with welts and dried blood. The elf had been whipped.
He took a step back, immense anger welling up. He considered Legolas a friend and a good one. To see him harmed like that was more than his temper could take. Placing his hand on Legolas' shoulder that seemed to be free of welts he gently shook him, careful to not inflict further pain.
'Legolas.'
He watched as awareness slowly returned, much slower than usual. Maybe sleeping was part of the elven healing. Why had Legolas not said that he had been attacked, surely not even his stubborn pride would go so far as hiding injuries like this?
'Legolas?'
'Mhhm.'
Not the most eloquent answer but a sign he was awake. The dark eyes focused on Gimli and Legolas moved to sit up. With a moan he sank back as the movement jarred at his wounds and pain shot through him, making him dizzy.
'Crazy elf.' Gimli grumbled, hiding the stab of compassion he felt at his friends obvious pain. 'You should not move.'
'Thanks for pointing this out to me.' Legolas weakly responded. Part of him was relieved he had not to hide this from his friend any longer, part of him dreaded what was to come.
'Who did this?' Gimli demanded.
'I can not tell you.'
'You can not or you will not?' the dwarf asked, his voice harsh.
No answer came and he gave his friend a grim smile.
'I know not why you tried to hide this and hold back who did it. But I know that you have been hurt badly. I will get a healer.'
A hand grasped his arm as he turned away and he stopped, looking at his friend's pale face.
'No, Gimli, I do not need a healer. I do not wish for anybody to know what happened.'
'I do not understand. You have been attacked and hurt, right here in the White City of Gondor. At least Aragorn should know.'
Legolas closed his eyes, trying to find the words to convince his friend.
'It is Aragorn I do not wish to know of this. But trust me my friend if I say the matter is not settled yet. I was taken unaware and in no fair fight and I will seek retribution for that.'
Although his voice was weak and full of pain there was a glimmer in his eyes that made Gimli belief him without doubt. He knew him after all, knew his pride and his skills as a fighter. Whoever had done this would be sorry.
A grim smile played around Legolas' lips for a moment and his next words echoed Gimli's thoughts.
'They will be sorry that they did not kill me when they had the chance.'
'But your wounds need to be tended. I will resign to call a healer and do it myself if you can bring yourself to tell me the whole story.'
He knew the dwarf well enough to know this was the most he could get from him. So Legolas did not hesitate to agree.
'If you promise to not tell either Aragorn nor Arwen I will tell you.'
Gimli nodded, satisfied with this answer. Then he left Legolas' bedside to collect warm water and clean sheets to use them as bandages.
After removing the cloak he helped Legolas to lay down on his stomach, noticing the slight trembling and the draining of any color from his face. It was a task he that he would have wished for anyone else to do as he tried to be as gentle as he could, but removing the torn clothing sticking to the encrusted welts on the elf's back could not be done without causing pain. He could feel every tensing of the slender body, every wince. Many of the wounds broke open again and blood flowed freely. Finally the last shred was removed.
The whipping had been severe and Gimli needed to get clean water several times before he had cleaned away dirt and blood to his satisfaction.
He tried hard not to hear the hisses of pain and low moans coming from his friend as he worked. His anger was burning at the damage done but his fingers were gentle and careful.
He helped the elf into a sitting position once more to wrap his torso in bandages.
Legolas finally rested on his stomach again and Gimli went to dispose of the bloody water and cloths. When he returned he stepped to his friends bedside. With surprise he noticed the vacant stare in the dark eyes and sighed.
'I guess I will need to wait a little while longer to hear your story my friend.'
Pulling up the sheets he covered the still body with them and returned to his own bed. But sleep eluded him as he listened to the even breathing of the elf, wondering who could have any reason to hurt him like this.