Stand Not Alone:
By Ryoko
http://knightofvegeta.cjb.net
The pain in his side had eased off considerably in the last hour or so, but it was still annoying him as he strolled alongside the mighty white horse. He pushed his clothing out of the way slightly to again inspect the damage.
"Are you troubled?" asked the figure on the horse. Legolas looked down on Gimli as the dwarf pretended to flick a spot of dried blood off his clothes.
"Nay, Legolas" he said, raising an eyebrow as a look of concern flashed across the elves face. "No more so than you at least."
"Nay, my friend, I am fine and you know it."
"… Bloody elves" mumbled Gimli as the white horse neighed at him. "My, Legolas, the ears on this horse are almost as big as yours!" He petted the horse gently but firmly on the neck, gently as he had become (almost) accustomed to dealing with the creature, and firmly, as it had always been the way of the dwarves with their heavy hands.
"Aye, if you insist, son of Gloin," said Legolas, his manor fitting that of a warrior prince, all be it with the sarcastic undertone their friendship allowed at such conversations.
"Be as it may" Gimli groaned, "that hurt on my side ails you as much as it does me, so there's no point in acting even more stubborn than you and your kind already are."
"If it ails you so, are you sure you will not ride with me? Arod knows and trusts you, he has no problem bearing us both." He lightly stroked the shining mane of the horse, who didn't seem to be disagreeing with its master.
"True, he is a fine creature," said Gimli, remembering for a brief moment when the horse and its master had first met. Legolas had intended to return Arod to the Riders of Rohan, as it was understood that he was only on loan to the elf whist their quest was ongoing. Come to think of it, that was the same time that Legolas had so readily jumped to defend him, after he and Ėomer had gotten into harsh words over the Lady Galadriel.
"I would cut off your head, beard and all, Master Dwarf," scowled Ėomer, as Gimli remembered, his sword ready in his hand "if it stood but a little higher from the ground,"
"He stands not alone," said Legolas, who was at the Dwarfs side, bending his bow and fitting an arrow with hands that moved quicker than sight. "You would die before your stroke fell." Gimli had been quite taken back at the time; a friendship between himself and the Elf had rooted its self (God forbid) but that was the first indication he'd ever gotten as to how strong that bond would become. Legolas himself hadn't flinched as the Riders of Rohan held pointed spear tips inches from his head and body as the tension in the situation exploded. Thank the stars that Aragon had been thinking rationally at the time (and it seemed, he was the only one) and had intervened before it got ugly.
"Gimli?"
The Dwarf snapped out of his memory at hearing his voice.
"Hmm?"
"You were about to say, my friend," said Legolas, slightly mimicking the manor of Gimli's speech "'True, he is a fine creature, but maybe it is time we took some rest, you are looking like you could do with it Master Elf."
"Aye, you are looking tired," mocked Gimli, "Maybe we should rest for a few hours, you elves are terrible company when you are so weary."
"If you insist."
They reached a clearing just ahead. There was a small stream and the ground was soft and warm. They both twinged slightly as Legolas jumped down from Arod's back. Gimli reached a hand to his side, as did Legolas.
"I am sorry, my friend, I did not think for a moment," said Legolas.
"Hmph, I hardly noticed" Gimli sighed. To both share the same pain from the same wound, which only one of them carried was a strange feeling to both of them, to Legolas, who could feel every tug and snare and gauge in his side, when where to look there was nothing, and Gimli, to have his side bleed again after his friends dismount from the horse. What hurt one would hurt the other, and what killed the one, would kill the other.
~#~#~#~#~#~The morning of that day~#~#~#~#~#~
A summons from the White City meant that once again, he was on the road. Not that he minded. It would be good to visit the great City of Gondor once again. He had decided to travel alone, as he often did in these days, feeling that nothing could compare with the company of the Fellowship and his friends, but also, taking a lot more time to think and exercise his mind, than he had remembered doing in the days before the threat from Mordor had been resurrected. He had no horse, as was the way of his people, and carried what he needed on his back, along with an armoury of (very well crafted) axes. The late morning sun shone heavily over the land as Gimli walked over the grass, being careful not to trample on any flowers that might find their way under his feet.
"Damn that elf" he mumbled to himself, after realising what he had been doing for the last few leagues. He looked over the valley, glaring for a moment at a figure all in white in the distance, which seemed to be standing, and waiting. "Damn that elf indeed" he smiled, as the figure now began to gallop towards him.
"It seams I am hardly able to be rid of you!" he called, when the rider was within a reasonable distance. He could see now that what looked from afar to be a radiant white had become an earthly shade of brown and olive green, the colours of Mirkwood. The rider took form and his hair flowed behind him as the white horse slowed to a gallop.
"Hail, my friend" said Legolas, "It appears that we would be going the same way!" he said, knowing full well that they had both received the same message from Aragorn, and had himself been waiting for the last few hours for sight of the Dwarf. With all the grace Gimli had come to expect from the elves, Legolas slid from the horses back (whilst still at a speedy gallop) and greeted his friend properly.
"It has been too long" smiled the son of Gloin, as Legolas bowed in greeting before clapping a warm friendly hand firmly on his shoulder.
"Aye, that it has, too long a time" he smiled, as Gimli clasped the hand on his shoulder with his own (of course, not being able to reach the shoulder of his companion). Legolas still carried on his back, the bow of the Galadrime, which had been given to him in Lóthlòrien as well as a healthy quiver of arrows, and the most beautiful of blades, his white fighting knives. Even in times of piece, the pair were warriors and hunters, and neither would be rid of axe nor bow if every orc in Middle-earth were slain.
"What news from the Grey Mountains?" Asked the elf, who strode alongside his horse and Gimli.
"Plans to retake Moria are well underway, Nywg son of Glive, an old friend of mine, is set to marry the fair Gwen, and trade in mythril and jewels with the city of Gondor and Rohan are making a lot of dwarves very well off" laughed Gimli. "Times of piece, although they offer little in the way of interesting news, they are a wonder to behold, I will say that I do not miss the need for skills such as ours."
"I know, I never thought I would say it, but boring times are safe times, and it is good to see the people happy again" Legolas added, "Both of our people." The people of Grey Mountains and Mirkwood still didn't get on as well as maybe they should now, in times of peace, but the friendship between the son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood and Lord Gimli, one of the most honoured and renowned Dwarves in Middle-earth was known well by each of their people, maybe one day it would be the key to uniting both Elves and Dwarves.
Afternoon was setting in as the pair came upon a village. They didn't need to stop for anything there, their journey was still young and they had all the provisions they needed for the time being, and it was doubtful that either could carry anymore without slowing them down. They decided it would hasten their travels if they were to bypass the village boundaries altogether.
"What are you listening to?" Not missing the concentration on Legolas' face. He knew his friend better than even he himself thought.
"I heard a cry," he said, looking ahead as they walked along the boarders of the village.