Morning was blue yet warm.  The grey elven ship sat in the calm, almost flat sea, under a canopy of thin, high clouds, tinged with the rosy and violet hues of daybreak.  Its passengers were having breakfast outside the tiny cabin.  Legolas was eating a piece of dried fish with a resigned look on his face.  He had finally agreed to eat fish after finding out that his store of fruits and nuts was nearly depleted.  Although he found the taste quite agreeable and even delicious sometimes, he hadn't entirely gotten over his initial revulsion after preparing a fish for the first time.  And that was two months ago. 

They had been out in the sea for nearly four months.  Many storms they had survived.  But it seemed that they did not get any closer to the Undying Land.  Legolas felt still the tug of the Blessed Realm, an urge so unshakable that he never even dreamed of abandoning his seemingly fruitless quest.  But looking at Gimli sitting across from him, drawing contentedly on his pipe, Legolas felt the beginning of doubts. 

"What is it, Master Legolas?" said Gimli.  "You look troubled."

"It is this journey, Gimli," said Legolas.  "Four months have passed and we are no nearer to Avallone than the day we set out.  I feel something is amiss.  We must have done something wrong."

"Well, nothing in the lore is said about how long it takes to travel to the Blessed realm," said Gimli.  "The ships of the older days were mightier than ours, so it might seem that they traversed the sea with greater speed.  Especially after the sundering of the West from the East; who knows full well what we are to behold beyond the sea?  We do not know if we have reached the end of the eastern waters yet.  Maybe in our small way, we are making progress nevertheless.  So have a heart, Legolas.  Do not despair."

Legolas looked at his friend, a smile breaking on his fair lips. 

"What?" demanded Gimli.  "I do not think I like that smile."

"I was just thinking how fortunate I am to have your company," said the Elf.  "It would have been a cheerless, dreadful journey without you."

Gimli growled gruffly.  "Well, someone has to keep an eye on you, Master Elf, lest you stray into trouble."

Legolas laughed.  "A good job you have done, Gimli, dragging me into the water to save you.  You and that heavy mail shirt of yours.  My hands were numb for hours afterwards."

"Well, if it were not for me, Legolas," countered Gimli, "you would have starved when your squirrel food ran out."

       But just then, Legolas heard a faint sound in the distance.  His keen elvish ears pricked up as he stood up suddenly and stood leaning on the railing.

       "What is it?" demanded Gimli.  He squinted but could see nothing.  His ears only heard the creaking of the ship's timber. 

       "A song!  Can you not hear it?" said Legolas.  He ran up to the stern and, shading his eyes to see better, looked beyond the water.  "It comes from there!"

       He leapt behind the helm and turned the ship to the east.  "Unfurl all the sails, Gimli.  We must haste!"

       "What song?" said Gimli.  "I hear nothing."

       "Believe me, Master Dwarf," Legolas laughed.  "A song there is, and a beautiful one too.  Speed we must have.  Hurry!"

       Gimli scrambled along the deck, tugging at ropes.  Presently, an impatient Legolas left the helm unmanned and scuttled up the masts, releasing white sails from the tall pinnacles, singing joyously in Elvish.  It struck Gimli that he had never seen Legolas so happy.

       "Where are we going?" asked Gimli. 

But Legolas seemed not to hear him and instead the Elf sang as he steered the ship ever eastward.  A small dot appeared in the horizon.  It grew larger and as it loomed in the distance, Gimli too could hear a beautiful melody, sung by the loveliest voice he had ever heard.  He understood not a word, but the song conjured up in his mind a blissful and glorious place: deep, vast caverns with glittering walls, tall columns of crystalline stalactites and stalagmites, carved into beautiful pillars that seemed to shine with a cold radiance.  Gimli could envision smithies deep under the mountains, blazing furnaces and forges, gleaming black behind the dancing fire.  In his ear he heard the singing of anvils and hammers.  He could see in his mind silver and gold being shaped into wonderful things, set with jewels that contained cold, glittering flames.  He was hardly conscious of anything else.  He did not see Legolas standing on the bow of the ship, singing an Elvish song, his hair swept back by wind, his eyes shut, a blissful smile on his lips. 

The song became stronger as they approached the tiny island.  It was the most beautiful one Gimli had ever seen.  There were mountain peaks there, clad in glittering snow.  Gimli could see cliffs, white and beautiful, dotted with openings that promised great, cavernous caves inside.  And on the cliff nearest to the sea, stood a beautiful woman.  Her golden hair was tossed by the wind.  Her face glowed like the moon.  On her white neck she wore a sparkling pendant of sapphire and diamond.  Earrings of gleaming silver were on her ears.  On her wrists there were thick gold bangles, the loveliest Gimli had ever beheld.  Gimli rushed to the bow, climbed the railing and reached out his hand, so eager was he to reach that island. 

Then he fell.

The water closed around him and he saw the island or heard the song no more.  Instead he saw a ring of sharp, jagged rocks, ready to snag and maroon any ship that came near.  He heard horrible, discordant shrieks, meaningless and full of evil mockery.  And Gimli realised what had happened.  Yet he also felt powerless to do anything.  He felt himself sinking into the deep, his hauberk was very heavy and stiff, he felt he could not move. Beyond the curtain of bluish green clear water, he saw Legolas standing on the prow, his hair streaming behind him.  He heard Legolas's voice singing.  And Gimli felt a fire stirred within him.  The grey ship with Legolas in it was going to crash into the treacherous reef. 

Gimli struggled, moving his hands and feet desperately against the weight of his mail shirt.  It was only by the sheer stoutness of his muscle that he managed to burst into the surface.  But when he was again above water and the lovely song once again assailed his ears, for a while Gimli was blinded and nearly paralysed by the beautiful vision of a Dwarven paradise.  But then he remembered Legolas who was about to topple into the deadly reef; and shaking his head violently, Gimli slipped his axe from its holder and swung it fiercely upward.  It buried itself in the ship's timber; and holding on to it, Gimli hauled himself up.   He climbed up to the deck, dripping water all over the polished wood, shaking his head to ward off the lethal song. He tried to walk to the helm and alter the ship's course, but his feet felt heavy, as though he had been tied on to the floor. 

He looked up to the top of the cliff beyond, and saw the woman had turned into a horrible apparition; ashen dark, her eyes a deep, revolting green, and green flame seemed to dance on her head.  She was huge, looming against the sky like a dark cloud.  Gimli felt paralysed by dread.  But he heard the song of Legolas, his voice like clear water washing over the filthy terror that strangled him, and Gimli took up his axe and rushed to the helm, crying, "Baruk Khazad!  Khazad ai menu!"

With a great effort he gripped the wheel and turned it.  He felt the wheel groaning as though it too was loath to leave the glorious but deceiving vision.  The wheel's timber seemed to burn his skin and Gimli cried in pain.  But the ship steered clear of the gaping maw of the deadly reed, just in time.  Gimli kept turning the wheel, trying to bring the ship to sail away from the island. 

       But then he heard Legolas cry out in anger and pain.  The Elf had turned from the prow and looked at Gimli with wrath in his bright Elven eyes. 

       "What are you doing?" he screamed as he leapt to the helm.  "Turn back, turn back this instant!"

       "You do not know what you are doing!" said Gimli.

       "I should never have taken you!  You care not at all for my heart's desire!" shouted Legolas as he tried to wrench the wheel from Gimli's hand.  "Turn the ship back, Gimli, or I shall have to kill you!"

       In a flash, Legolas had taken out his knife and had Gimli not stepped back nimbly enough, he would have been decapitated by the deadly Elven blade.  But as it was, only his beard fell victim to Legolas's knife. 

       Gimli stared briefly at the strands of reddish brown hair on the floor.  The dwarf's eyes glinted in fury.  He swung his axe, saying under his breath, "Never trust an Elf!"

       But the axe missed and its blade was buried in the railing.  Legolas swung his knife again.  Gimli ducked and snatched the Elf's foot from under him and for a split second Legolas lost his balance and fell.  The Elf and the Dwarf wrestled, the terribly beautiful song blaring between them.  The Dwarf's strength and endurance were fully matched by the Elf's agility and swiftness. 

In their struggle something fell out of Gimli's pocket and rolled on the floor.  Gimli glimpsed it and at that moment the fire was extinguished in his heart.  For it was a crystal sphere that he had made in Ithilien to house the three strands of lovely, golden hair of the Lady of Lothlorien, a parting gift bestowed on the Dwarf on the day of his leaving with the Ring-bearer and his companions.  The red screen of anger that blinded him vanished, and Gimli beheld before him the angry face of his Elf friend.  Sadness filled the Dwarf's heart.  He took a deep breath, said, "Please forgive me," and swung his fist viciously to the Elf's head.  The blow was hard and for a second Gimli was certain that he had cracked Legolas's skull.  The Elf's eyes lost their fiery focus and he fell limp onto Gimli's body, his hair splayed on the Dwarf's face.  Gimli rose and gently placed Legolas on the floor. 

The Elf seemed to be in a deep sleep, but not the Elven sleep whereby the eyes were open.  Legolas had shut his eyes and this troubled Gimli deeply.  But at least the Elf was breathing.  Gimli left him to see to the ship's course, but the wind was favouring them, and though the song was still tugging and demanding them to go to the island, Gimli heeded it no more.  He picked up his crystal ball and put it back in his pocket.  Then he returned to Legolas.

The mark of the Dwarf's fist was purplish blue in Legolas's temple, but even then the Elf was moaning softly and stirring.  He blinked twice and stared at Gimli. 

"What happened?" he whispered.  "My head hurts."

"You fell and knocked yourself out," said Gimli. 

"Fell?  Where from?" The Elf rubbed his temple as he sat up.  "Why is your axe in the railing?"

Then he saw the island, growing smaller in the horizon.  The song too he could hear again, but the beauty of it was marred by the pain in his head, and the wonderful imagery it conjured up was blurred and hazy.  Legolas gazed at Gimli.  "What was that, Gimli?"

"It was the Siren, Legolas," said Gimli.  "She sang and beckoned us to the island.  But there is a ring of dangerous reef around it and had we heeded her summons, we would have crashed into those rocks.  Then she would come down from her throne, along with her terrible people, and they would drink up our blood and feast on our flesh.  Remember that story that we heard from one of your kinsfolk in Lothlorien?"

Legolas shivered.  "But you saved us, Gimli," he said, his eyes shone with gratitude.  "She can not touch you."

"She did ensnare me," said Gimli.  "But I proved too strong for her."

Then Legolas smiled, looking at the dripping hair and beard (missing a few strands at the end) and the waterlogged mail shirt.  "And I suppose you swam out into the island and wrestled with her and thus defeated her?" he smiled gently.

The Dwarf turned red, "You should not speak so much.  There is an ugly welt in your head and I say we should have a look at it and see that it has not done your brain any serious damage."

Legolas laughed and with the peals of his Elven laughter, the last remnant of the siren's enchantment was dispelled.