The arrow flew in a flash from Legolas's bow, pulling with it a hithlain rope. It struck a big silver fish and went clear through its body. The fish made a last, desperate struggle, but the rope was already pulled into the ship. Soon it was lying on the deck of the grey elven ship, with Gimli half dancing near it.
"Finally, some real food!" he said. "I am becoming horribly tired of that dreadful lembas you made me eat everyday."
Legolas looked at the fish with a mingled feeling of disgust and doubt. "What shall we do with it?"
"Do? Many things, my friend. Come, let me show you how to do it," said Gimli, carrying the dead fish on his shoulder. They went into the cabin where Gimli lit fire to the brazier where they prepared their simple meals.
"Oh, I forget," said Gimli. "Why don't you go and clean the fish while I tend to the fire. It needs a little bit of urging before it can roast a fish nice and…"
"Clean the fish?" said Legolas frowning.
"Yes. Open it up, remove its innards, slice away the meat…"
"How do I do it?" said Legolas.
"How do you do it?" Gimli looked at Legolas with impatient eyes. It seemed that he could hardly believe Legolas the Wood-elf knew nothing about fish cleaning. "With a knife of course."
"My knife?" said Legolas.
"No, with Narsil, the sword of Isildur," growled Gimli, his eyes smouldering. "What is the matter with you! Have you never have fish before?"
"Well, we have fish in Greenwood. But I have never had to clean them up. They are always laid on the table, ready to be feasted on. It was never my duty to see to the preparation," said Legolas.
"Listen, Master Elf-prince," said Gimli. "This is going to be your first lesson on fish. They don't jump from the waters to the table and cook themselves in the process. They have to be cleaned, washed and cooked properly before you can feast on them."
"Well, if you know so much about fish cleaning, I suggest that you do it then, Gimli," said Legolas, smiling.
"Oh, no, no, Master Elf," said Gimli, wagging a fat, stubby finger. "You learn by doing. Go and clean that fish."
"I shall never be able to eat it later," muttered Legolas darkly.
"Then all the more reason why you should do it. I shall have all the fish to myself," said Gimli, handing the fish to Legolas and returning to the fire which was starting to dwindle in their quarrel.
Soon there came the scent of roasting fish from the cabin. Beside the roast, Gimli had also prepared fish stew, with some dried herbs that Legolas kept in the galley. The two friends sat down to dinner, Gimli with the roast fish and stew, Legolas with dried fruits, nuts and several wafers of lembas.
"We have travelled for well nigh two months now, Legolas," said Gimli. "We have followed the stars faithfully. Yet there is still no sign of the Blessed Realm."
Legolas looked at his friend thoughtfully. "It is said that the path there will be shown to all homecoming Elves and so far I felt that we had taken the right course. The Summons is getting stronger. Had we strayed, I would be sure to know it. But it is said in the lore of the Elves that the Valar had made the path full of treachery, to keep out those who are not allowed in the Undying Land."
Gimli sat silent for a while. He had finished eating and was puffing pensively on his pipe. "Suppose there are in the ship some who don't deserve to be let in, mortals," he said. "Do you think they will let you find the shores of Avallone then?"
"But it is said that Frodo and Bilbo, and Sam even, were taken to the Blessed Realm," said Legolas, a fierce hope in his eyes. "Surely it means that it is your deeds and valour that count, not immortality alone."
"I hope so, my good Elf," said Gimli. "I hope so."
"The worst that can happen," said Legolas more cheerfully, "is that instead of finding the Swan haven, we will go around and return to Middle Earth. I do not think there is aught we should fear."