Disclaimer: Tolkien: Legolas and Gimli are MINE!MY OWN!MY PRECIOUS!
Me: yeah I know, can't you loan them to me for a short
while?

Pls read and comment; any comments would really make my day :-)

Chap 4
Gimli cursed in his dwarven tongue as he felt the barrel being
buffeted from side to side by the rushing stream. Though the sides
of the barrel had already been lined with as much straw as was
possible, the bumping was still rather uncomfortable and painful,
and on occasion Gimli felt as though he was butter being churned
from milk. It was also hot and stuffy, and it seemed as though air
was in short supply. He longed to stretch his limbs, but all he
could do was to wriggle around slightly, and even that was
uncomfortable, for the straw was prickly.

"Why ever did I let that elf persuade me to do this?" Gimli berated
himself. He was quite certain that if they did not suffocate, at the
very least they would be extremely sick when they had exited their
containers. He wondered how Legolas was faring in the next
container, and worried about him. Soon, though, he forgot about his
friend, and wished with all his might that he could be freed from
this suffering.

Then he gasped as he felt himself dropping down suddenly. A groan
escaped from his lips, for the knock he had received had been rather
forceful. Then he felt the container behind bump him.

Finally when Gimli felt that he could no longer stand it, he reached
out and heaved at the lid of the barrel. He pushed hard several
times, and at last the lid fell open.

Feeling the water rushing in, Gimli tried his best to scramble out,
but his cramped and stiff limbs seemed reluctant to obey him, and
Gimli floundered around helplessly, gulping down a few mouthfuls of
stream water in the process. Eventually he managed to grab the
barrel, and he held on for dear life.

Bright sunlight illuminated the sky. Gimli successfully steered
himself to the river's banks, and wearily clambered out and lay
there panting.

With a start, he suddenly remembered Legolas. The containers and the
barrels were now ahead! Gimli ran along the bank of the river, and
fortunately was able to catch hold of the two long containers and
the barrels and drag them onto the bank. He was glad now that
Legolas had thought of marking the barrels, otherwise they would
have had no way of identifying which was which.

"Legolas? You can come out now," Gimli called, knocking on the box.
He heard the elf heave at the lid.

"Gimli?! Can you move the lid?" Gimli heard his friend's voice,
muffled and with a wild note in it. Legolas heaved and Gimli tugged,
but the lid was so tight that it was unmovable. No matter how they
huffed and puffed, the lid remained in its place.

Gimli heard Legolas rain blows on the lid, to no avail.

"Legolas, calm down! I will think of a way!"

"It is hard to breathe…"

Gimli frantically tried to get the now-rusty wheels in his brain to
spin. What could he do? Then he snapped his fingers, and hurried
over to the weapon-box, which opened with little effort. Seizing the
haft of his axe, with a careful but firm stroke, he hewed at the
wooden lid. Inserting his fingers in the hole created, he managed to
remove the lid.

Legolas sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, greedily gulping in the
fresh air. For a full half-hour all they could do was to lie down
and moan and attempt to shake the cramp and stiffness from their
limbs.

"You and your bright idea," Gimli grumbled," had it not been for me,
you would have suffocated to death in your `coffin'." He coughed and
rolled a little, still trying to work some life into his arms and
legs.

"Thank you for saving my life," Legolas returned, "Why, did you have
a better idea? If so, I would have liked to hear it."

"Come, it is time for us to go into hiding for the present," Legolas
said after a long pause. They tried to stand up, but ended up
crawling into a thicket of trees. Legolas glanced at his friend.

"Your hair and beard is hanging like a mop," Legolas ribbed, "You
crawl like a lion with a wild mane."

"Why, your hair looks like a hornet's nest," Gimli returned,
regarding his bedraggled friend. Both laughed. They settled down to
some dried food and drank deeply from the river, for their mouths
and throats were parched. Then they lay down on some soft moss that
made a good bed, and slept.

Much recovered the next morning, they readied their luggage(which,
in fact, was merely two backpacks and a bag filled with food),
washed up, and embarked on their journey.

"Know you where we are now?" Gimli asked.

"Yes. Come, we go in that direction along the Forest Road."

"Will not we be seen, in this broad daylight?"

"I know secret shortcuts that we can use," Legolas answered. He led
the way, and they stayed on the main path for a while, then steered
into the undergrowth. Gimli felt rather uneasy, straying off the
road like that, but he had little choice. They went on for a long
way in the forest, and after some hours Gimli groaned, stout though
he was. The trying `journey' in the river had taken its toll on him.

"Are we near to the end, Legolas? We seem to have walked forever. We
are not lost, are we?"

"Hm….Alas, I seem to have lost the way!" Legolas sounded genuinely
alarmed. He stopped and looked frantically around. "I have yet to be
in this part of the forest before!"

"What?" Gimli cried. "Stupid elf! What are we to do,now? Loth was I
to venture off the path. Yet you said you knew the way, so I trusted
you."

"Hm…." Legolas hesitated, "Let me think….perhaps we should go that
way…"he switched directions.

"Will our food last? I assume that we will take a long time to—or
maybe never--- find the way." Gimli had little choice but to follow.
He dragged his tired limbs after the elf, who was rapidly—and
seemingly tirelessly--- pushing his slender body through the
undergrowth. "Ai Elbereth, help us! Have mercy on us and let us find
our way out of this place!"

The elf turned around, amused that his dwarven friend was using
elvish phrases.

Suddenly, beyond a thicket of trees, they came out into the open,
and in fact right onto the road!

"Why, we have found our way out!" Gimli cried with great
mirth.

"Of course," Legolas said smugly, "I know my home like
the back of my hand. I was jesting with you. We were not lost at
all. In fact, we have cut short about three-quarters of the original
distance."

"You!" Gimli shook his fist at the elf.

"Fool of a dwarf! Do not you hold trust in my ability?
Long or short, in my home, my cuts don't go wrong." Gimli began to
chase his friend, and laughing, Legolas sprang ahead, easily
outpacing his friend.

It was a long, long journey south to Minas Tirith,
almost unachievable on foot. As planned, the two friends stopped at
the house of Grimbeorn, son of Beorn, who willingly furnished them
with fresh food, and a horse.



Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

PilGariand, elder brother of Legolas, went up to his
brother's room and found it empty. He at once saw the note that
Legolas had left. It was addressed to their father, but PilGariand
had no qualms about reading it. As soon as he had fully digested the
meaning of the contents he hurried down to where his father was,
letter in hand.

"Father!" PilGariand panted up. "Forgive me for
interrupting, but this is urgent." He thrust the letter into a
bewildered Thranduil's hands. As soon as the elvenking read it his
face went white then red, but so as not to create a scene, he said
nothing, and not till the end of the festivities did he show any
reaction.

"My fate is to not have my family by my side," he said
bitterly, and isolated himself in his chamber, and would speak to no
one for a long time.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Legolas and Gimli were now close to Caras Galadhon,
where most of the remaining Lorien elves still dwelt, and these were
few. They were hoping to borrow a boat so that they might travel
down the Anduin by boat, and reach Sarn Gebir. From there they would
bypass the Fall of Rauros by foot, with the boat, and then travel
down Anduin again till they neared Minas Tirith.

The elves of Lorien glanced curiously at the pair. They
no longer mounted such a close guard on the borders of their realm,
and that was how Legolas and Gimli had managed to come thus far
without being noticed or stopped by anyone.

"Legolas and Gimli the dwarf, is it not?" A slightly
familiar voice said in Westron.

"Haldir!" The two friends cried simultaneously,
instantly recognizing the golden-haired elf of the Golden Wood, whom
they had met so many years ago.

"Indeed. Well met, my friends."

"I thought you would have followed the Lady Galadriel
over the sea," Gimli piped up.

"Yes, but I could not bear to leave Lorien, and never
see the mallorn trees again. I will stay as long as I may. But now
that our Lady has gone, the trees are no longer as beautiful as they
were." Haldir's voice held a note of sadness. Indeed the mallorn
trees did look a little less leafy than the visitors
remembered. "Come with me." He led the visitors up the stairs once
more, and into what had been Celeborn and Galadriel's oval-shaped
chamber. But this time, Legendel, now the lord of the Lorien elves,
was seated there.

"Welcome once again, Legolas son of Thranduil and Gimli
son of Gloin, to Lorien. There is one who wishes to speak to you,
and he has long awaited you."

Legolas and Gimli exchanged curious and amazed glances.
Who could be waiting for them?

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Well I tend to be rather long-winded when I write, so the story
might seem rather slow-moving later on. Please be patient :-P