Okay, this is my first story on ff.net so I don't know how good it is. Please R&R so I will know whether or not to inflict more on you.
Legolas walked swiftly but carefully up to the edge of the cliff. He would have run, but he couldn't help Aragorn much if he turned his ankle. He peered down at the rushing river with trepidation. It was not a straight drop, but that only made it worse because the man would have hit many rocks as he fell. Tears slid down the elf's cheeks, as his heart seized with anguish at the realization that his very dear friend was not likely to have survived the fall. Aragorn was the first mortal friend he had ever had, but Legolas had believed he would have many more years with the man. For it to end so ignominiously was a terrible tragedy he did not feel able to live with. Spreading out his arms, he prepared to jump.
"Nooooo!" yelled Gimli, sprinting up to his friend. Legolas was surprised at the speed the dwarf was able to attain since he had seen no evidence of it despite Gimli's claims when they were tracking the hobbits. Before Legolas had managed to do more than lean forward, he was seized from behind by the strong arms of the short stocky figure who had yelled.
Although Legolas landed full weight upon him, Gimli did not loosen his grip on the elf. "Oh no you don't, Master Elf." He snarled. "You are not taking the easy way out and Aragorn would not have wanted you to!"
"How do you know what Aragorn would have wanted?" Legolas shot back. He managed to turn enough to see his friend's face and saw evidence of tears on the rough cheeks. Gimli, he realized, bore a sorrow as deep as his own. Then he turned his face away in an attempt to hide the external evidence of his gut-wrenching sobs. It was a useless gesture, however, because Gimli was still holding him and could feel his body jerk. The dwarf too began once more to weep and relaxed slightly his hold on Legolas. To his relief, the elf did not try to flee, but slid off of him to sprawl in a completely undignified position on the ground, his face concealed in his hands, his bow and quiver abandoned off to the side. Gimli gingerly sat up and pulled the elf's head onto his lap. Despite his own grief, Gimli had lost friends and relatives before to death and so was able to push back his sorrow enough to cope. He felt as bad as his immortal friend, but he knew that the elf had never lost anyone he was close to before. (His mother was dead, but she had died before he had developed a close personal relationship with her.) Gimli also knew that elves could die of grief, a fact he had picked up at some point without really giving it much thought.
With these thoughts in mind, he stroked Legolas's hair gently and murmured whatever came to mind. Then he realized with shock that he was telling this elf, whom he used to think was one of his worst enemies, about his feelings at the death of his own mother, which had occurred five years earlier. He had not even told his father or his best friends about what he had felt, which was a combination of anger and betrayal. The logical part of his mind had told him that she had not really wanted to die. Underneath those feelings was guilt, for he blamed himself for her death. Once again, the sensible part of him said he was not a fault, but emotions don't respond well to reason. He continued out loud on a similar line of thought, though he tried to stop himself. "It will be all my fault if you die of grief. I know I could not have saved Aragorn, but if you die too, I will never be able to forgive myself."
To Legolas, this came like a slap in the face. I can't burden him with that—with my death. Legolas thought. He scrubbed his eyes with his hands and then looked up that the distraught dwarf. "I'll stay."
Gimli slowly focused on his friend and finally said simply, "Thank you." They helped each other stand and Legolas carefully placed Gimli on Arod then mounted in front of him. Together they rode as brothers to defend Helm's deep.