Disclaimer: all characters, settings, and elvish language are strictly from
the mind of J.R.R. Tolkien or inspired by him.
1 Chapter III
2 Stirrings in the East
Sunlight blazed off the topmost tower of the newly built fortress of Amon Galen just as Legolas and Gimli came into view of the city. The sun was just rising over the nearby Emyn Arnen and as it's light poured over the city the magnificence of it was laid bare. The citadel in which Prince Faramir resided had been built with exquisite blue-veined marble painstakingly brought from the Grey Mountains far to the north. The giant slabs had been floated down the mighty river Anduin on boats made by the remnants of the elves of Lothlorien, who after Galadriel's departure had made a new home in the forests of southern Eryn Lasgalen. Mighty steeds from Rohan had been used to portage the marble around the rapids of Sarn Gebir and down below the foot of the Falls of Rauros where elven boats again carried the burden to the land of Ithilien.
There were four towers marking the points of the compass from which a constant vigil of the surrounding lands was kept. The top of each tower was shaped like the bulb of a flower coming to a point at it's height and had been completely overlaid with gold mined from the Emyn Arnen by Gimli's folk. In the middle of the four watchtowers was the main tower of the citadel. It was five times the girth of the other four and half again as high. Along it's length were many broad balconies and open verandas connected by open air staircases so that the King and his guests might view the beauty of the countryside at all times. The main tower was also crowned with gold in the same fashion as the other four and so it was called Minas Mallen, the Golden Towers. The fortress had taken ten years to complete, but all who looked upon it said its beauty rivaled that of the White Tower in Minas Tirith.
The city of Amon Galen with its houses and shops lay on the hillside surrounding Minas Mallen. This too the dwarves had helped to craft and all the dwellings were clean and bright being made of a white stone which could be mined in the White Mountains on the other side of the Anduin. The same stone had been used to build a wall encircling the entire city, but it was only perhaps twice the height of a man, for the wall was not the main defense of Amon Galen. Surrounding the entire base of the hill was a large moat. At all points it was 50 spans across and 25 spans deep. It had been dug by the men of Amon Galen and filled with water from the Anduin. The only route in or out of the city was by one bridge on the north side. It was constructed of the same marble as Minas Mallen and had no adornments or even rails, but was simply a smooth arch some 30 spans across. Gimli had designed it so that the bridge split in the middle. Many ropes and pulleys had been expertly placed so that only twenty men were needed to lift the nearer half. When in this position not only was the bridge not usable by enemies, but it also completed the wall encircling the city. High above the ground the peoples of Amon Galen could easily mark their foes on the shores of the moat below.
Legolas's elves had not been idle while the dwarves toiled. Many oak trees had stood on the hill upon which the city now lay and the elves had helped the dwarves to incorporate them into the city's layout. It was not unusual to see a large oak sticking out of the top of one house, and some houses had even been built among their branches with long staircases winding around their trunks to the front doors. Lamps hung from all the trees so even at night, when the sun no longer set the towers of Minas Mallen alight, the city was aglow with yellow light. But it was the flowers for which Amon Galen became most renowned. For the city lay far enough to the south that flowers could bloom all year long. So the elves with their knowledge and sway over living things planted large clumps of purple irises which bloomed in the summer and brilliant, red geraniums which bloomed in the winter with many others filling the spaces in the autumn and spring. There was not a patch of earth in Amon Galen that did not rear some living thing.
Even with all his heavy burdens it lightened Legolas's heart to see the fair city. The re-building of Ithilien had been healing to all the elves for they thrived on creating beauty. All their recent years had been spent in strife and battle, but now their lives had become peaceful and fulfilling once more. Luvien's death had disrupted that feeling amongst his people. It had disrupted that feeling within himself. Not for the first time Legolas thought of the sea, and the desire to travel to the Grey Havens and depart this earth for Valinor, the Blessed Realm. He knew it was inevitable that he would leave Middle-Earth one way or another, but whenever his heart called him to the sea it also reminded him of what he stood to lose. For those he loved most of all still remained in this realm. His heart could not bear leaving while Elessar and Arwen remained, nor indeed Faramir and Eowyn who he had come to love much in recent years, but most of all he was loathe to leave Gimli.
Strange though it may seem to his elvish sensibilities the dwarf was the best friend he had ever had. He knew the two of them made an unlikely pair, but he realized that where he brought caution Gimli brought courage, when Legolas's world became all too quiet the dwarf would almost assuredly provide a little chaos to "make things interesting", and when Legolas saw things only through fair elf eyes Gimli could and would always provide another perspective. It was their lot in life for elves to become narrow- minded creatures of habit, but Legolas knew he would never be allowed that luxury as long as the dwarf remained.
Legolas looked at Gimli who sat uncomfortably on the back of his pony. He had been unfair to his friend of late in being so closed. Legolas laughed to himself in remembering all the times the dwarf had chastised him for not telling him his troubles. Friends do not keep their problems to themselves, Master Elf. I think even you cannot deny that I have a sturdy back and strong legs and am well-equipped to help bear your burden. Now out with it! Whatever is troubling you will trouble me as well, only you have the great fortune of having a dwarf to advise you, whereas I have only an elf . He knew he must help to amend things.
They were crossing the bridge into the city when he turned to Gimli, "It is a wonder, my dear dwarf, that you have managed to stay atop your pony the entire journey. I wonder, what your father would say if he could see you so majestically mounted."
Gimli who had become quite bored during their quiet evening ride was half asleep in his saddle, and so was startled by Legolas's sudden outburst. Taken unawares as he was, he could think of no fitting response so he avoided the comment, "Ah, the elf speaks. I had begun to wonder if you even remembered I was here."
Legolas bowed his head acknowledging Gimli's grudge. "I am sorry Gimli for not sharing my thoughts with you." Legolas then grinned at him, "I should be taking advantage of my 'great fortune in having a dwarf to advise me.'"
The dwarf's long mustache twitched ever so slightly in his repressed laughter, but the rest of his face appeared stern. "It is good that you have finally come to your senses in this matter. There may be some hope for you yet."
Legolas grinned at him even more. Though he could not bring himself to utter it aloud he was well aware of his great fortune in having Gimli for a friend.
At the gate the sentinels greeted them, but did not hinder their progress for they knew them well. They made their way through the city streets with ease as it was still early and few had yet any need to be up and about. And so they soon came at last to the front gate of the fortress of Prince Faramir.
Faramir's guards immediately opened the gate for the two of them to enter. The news of their coming had apparently preceded them because on the other side of the gate Boromir, Faramir and Eowyn's son, was already there to greet them. "Welcome Prince Legolas and Master Gimli to Amon Galen."
He was very tall as was the nature of the men of Gondor, but his hair was golden like his mother's with only the slightest hint of red in it. His shoulders were broad and within him there was a great strength. His eyes were of a clear blue like his mother and though he was only 18 years of age they told of great wisdom and cunning.
Legolas dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to a young page as did Gimli who looked exceedingly happy to have both feet firmly on the ground. The elf-prince bowed low, "Greetings, Prince Boromir. I did not anticipate such a welcome, but it is well received."
Gimli bowed so low that his beard touched the ground. "Tis a fine morning to be greeted by the crown prince of glorious Ithilien. I am most humbled."
Legolas rolled his eyes in mock irritation, "Have you noticed, Boromir, how dwarves have such an incredible flair for the dramatic?"
Gimli took on the pained look of an ill-abused teacher, "Pay no attention to him, dear Prince. He is only jealous. Try as I might I have been unsuccessful in teaching him the art of fair speech."
"Stop, stop!" Boromir cried. Though he was used to such banter between the elf and dwarf he also knew that once it began it could be quite some time before it was ended. "You have both honored me with fine words, but if this continues it will be midday before we can even enter inside. Come. You must be weary from your long journey. Breakfast has been provided for you in your usual rooms, and you can also take some rest there." The young prince turned and they followed him into the tower.
As beautiful as Minas Mallen was on the outside, it was even more so from within. Every hallway was designed so that one felt as if they were traveling under a long trellis beset with grapevines heavy with fruit. All this carved from the magnificent marble. The floors were lined with carpet woven by the elves depicting landscapes of the many beautiful places throughout Ithilien. Lamps in the shapes of flowers lined the walls, but natural light poured in at every possible place setting the walls aglow.
The hallway they were passing through led into the very heart of the citadel. At it's center was a fountain, a large pedestal which water flowed over to fall in a circular sheet into a pool below. Many paths wound from the outer wall through brilliant flowers and green plants to their eventual end at the fountain. On the next level of the tower, which was some ways above the ground floor, were three wide balconies facing both inside and out which allowed much sunlight to fall on the indoor garden. Legolas and Gimli smiled at one another. The atrium was a masterpiece of dwarvish and elvish craftsmanship, and they were proud of what their cooperation had accomplished.
The three mounted one of the staircases which led up to the level of the balconies. From there Boromir led them outside again. They climbed many stairways on the outside of the tower until they reached a small balcony near the top of the tower. "Here you are. Breakfast is inside, and if there is anything else you require please ask one of the pages. I must go inform Mother and Father of your arrival." With a slight nod of his head Boromir continued up another stairway and was quickly out of sight.
Gimli immediately turned to go inside for food. Just inside there was a table set with foods favored by both of them. Gimli had already helped himself to a venison steak before Legolas had even sat down. The elf found some of the sweet cakes Faramir's chefs were known for. He had not eaten since early yesterday, and was quite hungry.
The two were content to eat for some time with no talking, but eventually Legolas broke the silence. "There is something going on, Gimli. More than just our news."
Gimli took a swig of beer to wash down the large hunk of yellow cheese he had just popped in his mouth, "What makes you say that? I see nothing out of the ordinary."
"Do you not? It is obvious that the watch saw us approaching and notified the prince. But Boromir did not look as one who has just risen from sleep. And the kitchens were already hard at work to have this meal ready for us when we arrived. Venison does not cook quickly."
Gimli had finished his steak and most of the cheese and was now hard at work on a bowl of grapes. "You have grown suspicious in your old age, elf. The venison may be from the night before, and who knows what prompts a young man to be up in the wee hours." The dwarf's eyes twinkled mischievously, "Perhaps, the young buck has his eyes set on a doe, and is so lovesick he cannot sleep."
Legolas grinned, "I did not know dwarves were such romantics. Next you will be writing love poetry!"
Gimli stopped eating and glared at the elf-prince. Legolas did his best to keep a straight face while becoming suddenly very interested in the sliced melon. Nothing was more infuriating to Gimli than the elf's nonchalant attitude when arguing, so he took his last grape and with a lightning quick motion flicked it across the table straight at the elf's pointy nose. Legolas did not look up but his hand was a blur, catching the grape before it hit it's mark and then popping it into his own mouth.
Gimli positively snorted with frustration. "Our long journey has apparently dulled my reflexes, lucky for you. I believe I shall take a short nap."
Gimli rose from his seat and started towards the door to his bedchamber when Legolas piped up, "Yes, perhaps a nap would be best for you. A dwarf cannot be expected to ride all night with no rest. They were not meant for such difficult labor."
Gimli stopped dead in his tracks. Dead silence rang in the room. Then he muttered something even Legolas's ears could not hear, although the elf was quite certain that whatever words he had used they were likely very colorful. He could not help smiling to himself. That thorn-in-my-side dwarf has suffered much to lighten my mood, he thought. And thinking once again of his great fortune in having such a friend Legolas took sip of his wine . . . and spat it out onto the ground. Someone had poured salt into his glass.
A few hours later Legolas and Gimli found themselves seated at a table with Prince Faramir, Princess Eowyn, and the young Prince Boromir. They were on a veranda which overlooked the mighty River Anduin to the north. The elf's keen eyes were just able to discern a glint of white light in the distance where the white city of Minas Tirith stood
After many warm welcomes Legolas had told the tale of Luvien's murder. The news seemed to greatly distress Faramir. Eowyn also looked pained to hear such news, but she also saw the sorrow of Legolas and so took his hand and said, "Dear Legolas, you must know how much your people love you. Do not be troubled by thoughts of failure. Though you are their leader you cannot know all things nor suspect foul play at every turn."
Her words seemed to ease the elf's mind, "Great is Faramir to have Eowyn at his side, and fortunate the peoples of Ithilien to have her guidance." Legolas rose and bowed before her.
Eowyn nodded in reply then said, "Please, sit, Legolas. There is more news."
Legolas was seated and Faramir stood. It was his habit to pace when discussing matters of great imoportance, and so he began to walk the length of the balcony, "As you both know, scouts have been sent regularly to Mordor to keep vigil over the men who reside there. King Elessar gave them the lands about the Sea of Nurnen to do as they wished as long as they no longer plotted to make war against Gondor. While we kept watch for last twenty years it appeared as though the Easterlings would abide by this command, but it does not appear so any more.
"Last July I sent more of my men to bring back tidings from Mordor. They returned with news that was curious, but not necessarily ominous. The Easterlings had been cultivating their land with great success, but now a great number of them had taken to entering the caves of the southern Ephel Duath. What they were doing there my men could not say, but we thought at the time that it was likely they had taken to mining.
"Again, I was not overly concerned by this news, but l did wonder what they were doing under those mountains. So, last month I sent out eight men to spy on them. Five of those men have not returned, and I do not believe they ever will The other three have only returned last night, through great personal peril, and they brought grave news indeed. The Easterlings are mining in the Ephel Duath, alongside many orcs, and all their smithies are hard at work making weaponry and mail. They are preparing for war." Faramir had at last stopped pacing and now stood, hands resting on the table, eyes searching Legolas and Gimli for their reactions.
Gimli was the first to regain his speech from the shock of the news, "Prince Faramir, these Easterlings and Orcs will only find death if they dare to cross the mountains into this country. You have the strength of the dwarves at your call." Gimli said these words proudly. Faramir smiled grimly at him. It was just the reaction he had expected.
Legolas was slower to respond, and less heatedly, "Gimli is correct, Faramir. If they attempt to cross the Ephel Duath they will most assuredly meet their doom. Without Sauron's power and the power of the one ring they have little cunning or strength of themselves. Why then do they prepare for war? What force organizes them?"
Faramir began to pace again, "That is what troubles my heart most, Legolas. Has some great evil come again to that foul land. We do not know. And now your there is news of murder in Edhil-e-londe. Possibly coincidence. Possibly not. But if these orcs or foul men of the east can murder an elf then there is some greater evil behind all of this."
Eowyn then spoke, "Letters have been drafted to send to Aragorn in Minas Tirith, Eomer in Rohan, Thranduil in Eryn Lasgalen, and to Thorin Stonehelm in the Iron Hills. Your news will now also be included, Legolas. The letters will leave tonight with our fastest riders."
Legolas nodded in agreement with this statement as did Gimli. The dwarf then began questioning Faramir on the numbers of orcs and men in Mordor. Legolas only half listened to the conversation. The what ifs and wherefores would continue long into the evening, but they were just suppositions based on minute scraps of information. Slowly the voices faded in his mind altogether and in their place Legolas heard the deep rumble waves breaking upon the shore. The sea was calling to him again.
1 Chapter III
2 Stirrings in the East
Sunlight blazed off the topmost tower of the newly built fortress of Amon Galen just as Legolas and Gimli came into view of the city. The sun was just rising over the nearby Emyn Arnen and as it's light poured over the city the magnificence of it was laid bare. The citadel in which Prince Faramir resided had been built with exquisite blue-veined marble painstakingly brought from the Grey Mountains far to the north. The giant slabs had been floated down the mighty river Anduin on boats made by the remnants of the elves of Lothlorien, who after Galadriel's departure had made a new home in the forests of southern Eryn Lasgalen. Mighty steeds from Rohan had been used to portage the marble around the rapids of Sarn Gebir and down below the foot of the Falls of Rauros where elven boats again carried the burden to the land of Ithilien.
There were four towers marking the points of the compass from which a constant vigil of the surrounding lands was kept. The top of each tower was shaped like the bulb of a flower coming to a point at it's height and had been completely overlaid with gold mined from the Emyn Arnen by Gimli's folk. In the middle of the four watchtowers was the main tower of the citadel. It was five times the girth of the other four and half again as high. Along it's length were many broad balconies and open verandas connected by open air staircases so that the King and his guests might view the beauty of the countryside at all times. The main tower was also crowned with gold in the same fashion as the other four and so it was called Minas Mallen, the Golden Towers. The fortress had taken ten years to complete, but all who looked upon it said its beauty rivaled that of the White Tower in Minas Tirith.
The city of Amon Galen with its houses and shops lay on the hillside surrounding Minas Mallen. This too the dwarves had helped to craft and all the dwellings were clean and bright being made of a white stone which could be mined in the White Mountains on the other side of the Anduin. The same stone had been used to build a wall encircling the entire city, but it was only perhaps twice the height of a man, for the wall was not the main defense of Amon Galen. Surrounding the entire base of the hill was a large moat. At all points it was 50 spans across and 25 spans deep. It had been dug by the men of Amon Galen and filled with water from the Anduin. The only route in or out of the city was by one bridge on the north side. It was constructed of the same marble as Minas Mallen and had no adornments or even rails, but was simply a smooth arch some 30 spans across. Gimli had designed it so that the bridge split in the middle. Many ropes and pulleys had been expertly placed so that only twenty men were needed to lift the nearer half. When in this position not only was the bridge not usable by enemies, but it also completed the wall encircling the city. High above the ground the peoples of Amon Galen could easily mark their foes on the shores of the moat below.
Legolas's elves had not been idle while the dwarves toiled. Many oak trees had stood on the hill upon which the city now lay and the elves had helped the dwarves to incorporate them into the city's layout. It was not unusual to see a large oak sticking out of the top of one house, and some houses had even been built among their branches with long staircases winding around their trunks to the front doors. Lamps hung from all the trees so even at night, when the sun no longer set the towers of Minas Mallen alight, the city was aglow with yellow light. But it was the flowers for which Amon Galen became most renowned. For the city lay far enough to the south that flowers could bloom all year long. So the elves with their knowledge and sway over living things planted large clumps of purple irises which bloomed in the summer and brilliant, red geraniums which bloomed in the winter with many others filling the spaces in the autumn and spring. There was not a patch of earth in Amon Galen that did not rear some living thing.
Even with all his heavy burdens it lightened Legolas's heart to see the fair city. The re-building of Ithilien had been healing to all the elves for they thrived on creating beauty. All their recent years had been spent in strife and battle, but now their lives had become peaceful and fulfilling once more. Luvien's death had disrupted that feeling amongst his people. It had disrupted that feeling within himself. Not for the first time Legolas thought of the sea, and the desire to travel to the Grey Havens and depart this earth for Valinor, the Blessed Realm. He knew it was inevitable that he would leave Middle-Earth one way or another, but whenever his heart called him to the sea it also reminded him of what he stood to lose. For those he loved most of all still remained in this realm. His heart could not bear leaving while Elessar and Arwen remained, nor indeed Faramir and Eowyn who he had come to love much in recent years, but most of all he was loathe to leave Gimli.
Strange though it may seem to his elvish sensibilities the dwarf was the best friend he had ever had. He knew the two of them made an unlikely pair, but he realized that where he brought caution Gimli brought courage, when Legolas's world became all too quiet the dwarf would almost assuredly provide a little chaos to "make things interesting", and when Legolas saw things only through fair elf eyes Gimli could and would always provide another perspective. It was their lot in life for elves to become narrow- minded creatures of habit, but Legolas knew he would never be allowed that luxury as long as the dwarf remained.
Legolas looked at Gimli who sat uncomfortably on the back of his pony. He had been unfair to his friend of late in being so closed. Legolas laughed to himself in remembering all the times the dwarf had chastised him for not telling him his troubles. Friends do not keep their problems to themselves, Master Elf. I think even you cannot deny that I have a sturdy back and strong legs and am well-equipped to help bear your burden. Now out with it! Whatever is troubling you will trouble me as well, only you have the great fortune of having a dwarf to advise you, whereas I have only an elf . He knew he must help to amend things.
They were crossing the bridge into the city when he turned to Gimli, "It is a wonder, my dear dwarf, that you have managed to stay atop your pony the entire journey. I wonder, what your father would say if he could see you so majestically mounted."
Gimli who had become quite bored during their quiet evening ride was half asleep in his saddle, and so was startled by Legolas's sudden outburst. Taken unawares as he was, he could think of no fitting response so he avoided the comment, "Ah, the elf speaks. I had begun to wonder if you even remembered I was here."
Legolas bowed his head acknowledging Gimli's grudge. "I am sorry Gimli for not sharing my thoughts with you." Legolas then grinned at him, "I should be taking advantage of my 'great fortune in having a dwarf to advise me.'"
The dwarf's long mustache twitched ever so slightly in his repressed laughter, but the rest of his face appeared stern. "It is good that you have finally come to your senses in this matter. There may be some hope for you yet."
Legolas grinned at him even more. Though he could not bring himself to utter it aloud he was well aware of his great fortune in having Gimli for a friend.
At the gate the sentinels greeted them, but did not hinder their progress for they knew them well. They made their way through the city streets with ease as it was still early and few had yet any need to be up and about. And so they soon came at last to the front gate of the fortress of Prince Faramir.
Faramir's guards immediately opened the gate for the two of them to enter. The news of their coming had apparently preceded them because on the other side of the gate Boromir, Faramir and Eowyn's son, was already there to greet them. "Welcome Prince Legolas and Master Gimli to Amon Galen."
He was very tall as was the nature of the men of Gondor, but his hair was golden like his mother's with only the slightest hint of red in it. His shoulders were broad and within him there was a great strength. His eyes were of a clear blue like his mother and though he was only 18 years of age they told of great wisdom and cunning.
Legolas dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to a young page as did Gimli who looked exceedingly happy to have both feet firmly on the ground. The elf-prince bowed low, "Greetings, Prince Boromir. I did not anticipate such a welcome, but it is well received."
Gimli bowed so low that his beard touched the ground. "Tis a fine morning to be greeted by the crown prince of glorious Ithilien. I am most humbled."
Legolas rolled his eyes in mock irritation, "Have you noticed, Boromir, how dwarves have such an incredible flair for the dramatic?"
Gimli took on the pained look of an ill-abused teacher, "Pay no attention to him, dear Prince. He is only jealous. Try as I might I have been unsuccessful in teaching him the art of fair speech."
"Stop, stop!" Boromir cried. Though he was used to such banter between the elf and dwarf he also knew that once it began it could be quite some time before it was ended. "You have both honored me with fine words, but if this continues it will be midday before we can even enter inside. Come. You must be weary from your long journey. Breakfast has been provided for you in your usual rooms, and you can also take some rest there." The young prince turned and they followed him into the tower.
As beautiful as Minas Mallen was on the outside, it was even more so from within. Every hallway was designed so that one felt as if they were traveling under a long trellis beset with grapevines heavy with fruit. All this carved from the magnificent marble. The floors were lined with carpet woven by the elves depicting landscapes of the many beautiful places throughout Ithilien. Lamps in the shapes of flowers lined the walls, but natural light poured in at every possible place setting the walls aglow.
The hallway they were passing through led into the very heart of the citadel. At it's center was a fountain, a large pedestal which water flowed over to fall in a circular sheet into a pool below. Many paths wound from the outer wall through brilliant flowers and green plants to their eventual end at the fountain. On the next level of the tower, which was some ways above the ground floor, were three wide balconies facing both inside and out which allowed much sunlight to fall on the indoor garden. Legolas and Gimli smiled at one another. The atrium was a masterpiece of dwarvish and elvish craftsmanship, and they were proud of what their cooperation had accomplished.
The three mounted one of the staircases which led up to the level of the balconies. From there Boromir led them outside again. They climbed many stairways on the outside of the tower until they reached a small balcony near the top of the tower. "Here you are. Breakfast is inside, and if there is anything else you require please ask one of the pages. I must go inform Mother and Father of your arrival." With a slight nod of his head Boromir continued up another stairway and was quickly out of sight.
Gimli immediately turned to go inside for food. Just inside there was a table set with foods favored by both of them. Gimli had already helped himself to a venison steak before Legolas had even sat down. The elf found some of the sweet cakes Faramir's chefs were known for. He had not eaten since early yesterday, and was quite hungry.
The two were content to eat for some time with no talking, but eventually Legolas broke the silence. "There is something going on, Gimli. More than just our news."
Gimli took a swig of beer to wash down the large hunk of yellow cheese he had just popped in his mouth, "What makes you say that? I see nothing out of the ordinary."
"Do you not? It is obvious that the watch saw us approaching and notified the prince. But Boromir did not look as one who has just risen from sleep. And the kitchens were already hard at work to have this meal ready for us when we arrived. Venison does not cook quickly."
Gimli had finished his steak and most of the cheese and was now hard at work on a bowl of grapes. "You have grown suspicious in your old age, elf. The venison may be from the night before, and who knows what prompts a young man to be up in the wee hours." The dwarf's eyes twinkled mischievously, "Perhaps, the young buck has his eyes set on a doe, and is so lovesick he cannot sleep."
Legolas grinned, "I did not know dwarves were such romantics. Next you will be writing love poetry!"
Gimli stopped eating and glared at the elf-prince. Legolas did his best to keep a straight face while becoming suddenly very interested in the sliced melon. Nothing was more infuriating to Gimli than the elf's nonchalant attitude when arguing, so he took his last grape and with a lightning quick motion flicked it across the table straight at the elf's pointy nose. Legolas did not look up but his hand was a blur, catching the grape before it hit it's mark and then popping it into his own mouth.
Gimli positively snorted with frustration. "Our long journey has apparently dulled my reflexes, lucky for you. I believe I shall take a short nap."
Gimli rose from his seat and started towards the door to his bedchamber when Legolas piped up, "Yes, perhaps a nap would be best for you. A dwarf cannot be expected to ride all night with no rest. They were not meant for such difficult labor."
Gimli stopped dead in his tracks. Dead silence rang in the room. Then he muttered something even Legolas's ears could not hear, although the elf was quite certain that whatever words he had used they were likely very colorful. He could not help smiling to himself. That thorn-in-my-side dwarf has suffered much to lighten my mood, he thought. And thinking once again of his great fortune in having such a friend Legolas took sip of his wine . . . and spat it out onto the ground. Someone had poured salt into his glass.
A few hours later Legolas and Gimli found themselves seated at a table with Prince Faramir, Princess Eowyn, and the young Prince Boromir. They were on a veranda which overlooked the mighty River Anduin to the north. The elf's keen eyes were just able to discern a glint of white light in the distance where the white city of Minas Tirith stood
After many warm welcomes Legolas had told the tale of Luvien's murder. The news seemed to greatly distress Faramir. Eowyn also looked pained to hear such news, but she also saw the sorrow of Legolas and so took his hand and said, "Dear Legolas, you must know how much your people love you. Do not be troubled by thoughts of failure. Though you are their leader you cannot know all things nor suspect foul play at every turn."
Her words seemed to ease the elf's mind, "Great is Faramir to have Eowyn at his side, and fortunate the peoples of Ithilien to have her guidance." Legolas rose and bowed before her.
Eowyn nodded in reply then said, "Please, sit, Legolas. There is more news."
Legolas was seated and Faramir stood. It was his habit to pace when discussing matters of great imoportance, and so he began to walk the length of the balcony, "As you both know, scouts have been sent regularly to Mordor to keep vigil over the men who reside there. King Elessar gave them the lands about the Sea of Nurnen to do as they wished as long as they no longer plotted to make war against Gondor. While we kept watch for last twenty years it appeared as though the Easterlings would abide by this command, but it does not appear so any more.
"Last July I sent more of my men to bring back tidings from Mordor. They returned with news that was curious, but not necessarily ominous. The Easterlings had been cultivating their land with great success, but now a great number of them had taken to entering the caves of the southern Ephel Duath. What they were doing there my men could not say, but we thought at the time that it was likely they had taken to mining.
"Again, I was not overly concerned by this news, but l did wonder what they were doing under those mountains. So, last month I sent out eight men to spy on them. Five of those men have not returned, and I do not believe they ever will The other three have only returned last night, through great personal peril, and they brought grave news indeed. The Easterlings are mining in the Ephel Duath, alongside many orcs, and all their smithies are hard at work making weaponry and mail. They are preparing for war." Faramir had at last stopped pacing and now stood, hands resting on the table, eyes searching Legolas and Gimli for their reactions.
Gimli was the first to regain his speech from the shock of the news, "Prince Faramir, these Easterlings and Orcs will only find death if they dare to cross the mountains into this country. You have the strength of the dwarves at your call." Gimli said these words proudly. Faramir smiled grimly at him. It was just the reaction he had expected.
Legolas was slower to respond, and less heatedly, "Gimli is correct, Faramir. If they attempt to cross the Ephel Duath they will most assuredly meet their doom. Without Sauron's power and the power of the one ring they have little cunning or strength of themselves. Why then do they prepare for war? What force organizes them?"
Faramir began to pace again, "That is what troubles my heart most, Legolas. Has some great evil come again to that foul land. We do not know. And now your there is news of murder in Edhil-e-londe. Possibly coincidence. Possibly not. But if these orcs or foul men of the east can murder an elf then there is some greater evil behind all of this."
Eowyn then spoke, "Letters have been drafted to send to Aragorn in Minas Tirith, Eomer in Rohan, Thranduil in Eryn Lasgalen, and to Thorin Stonehelm in the Iron Hills. Your news will now also be included, Legolas. The letters will leave tonight with our fastest riders."
Legolas nodded in agreement with this statement as did Gimli. The dwarf then began questioning Faramir on the numbers of orcs and men in Mordor. Legolas only half listened to the conversation. The what ifs and wherefores would continue long into the evening, but they were just suppositions based on minute scraps of information. Slowly the voices faded in his mind altogether and in their place Legolas heard the deep rumble waves breaking upon the shore. The sea was calling to him again.