Author's Note: Back again! Oh, and before we start, anyone who has not yet seen Pirates of the Caribbean seriously needs to (I tried to see it for the second time today but it was all sold out, bugger.) That said, I continue to love you guys for your lovely reviews, I am not Tolkien, and here's the new chapter!

Chapter 19

Aragorn and Gimli came back to the spot in front of the Inn where they had last been with Bergel. Distractedly, Gimli looked down and noticed a small puddle of blood on the ground. Not blood from any sort of skirmish or fight, but his blood from being taken unawares by his own friend. Gimli shook his head and looked up, his eyes searching for Bergel.

"Do you know where he could have gone?" Aragorn asked.

Gimli shook his head. "He could be anywhere that he thinks safe." Gimli had a thought. "I'll wager he went back to the Houses of the Kings, probably to look for you. He feels safe with you."

Aragorn nodded. "Let us go there then."

Gimli did not move. "I'll stay to look for him here, in case he is not there. If you do not find him come back here and then we shall think of what else to do."

Aragorn hesitated a small moment before nodding and turning in the opposite direction. He did not run, Gimli had the impression that running was somewhat beneath him now that he was a king, but he was moving quickly enough that he did not have to run. Gimli turned and began his own search.

He first looked inside the deserted Inn, thinking perhaps Bergel thought that it would be a safe place. But not a soul was in there, so Gimli left it quickly and walked to the small alley where he had first found him. There was nobody there either.

Coming back out of the alley and taking a quick look around, Gimli tried to imagine what would occur most logically to Bergel, where he would think to go. After a few moment's of this, Gimli realized that it was futile. He could not think like Bergel anymore than he could imagine what had gotten into that damned elf.

Frustrated at just standing around, Gimli decided to move. He figured that since they had not seen any signs of Bergel coming back from the Houses of Healing that he had most likely gone in the other direction. Gimli set out in that way.

The stout dwarf walked with a quick pace, yet like Aragorn he did not run. Although he admitted that he was not yet above that. He would not suffer to lose any shred of dignity over running, unless it was away from a fight. But he would be more than happy to launch headlong into one. Keeping a tight grip on his axe handle, Gimli moved down the street.

He had not gotten very far when something caught the corner of his eye. He could not discern what it was, but even before he was able to turn to face it properly, he was able to ascertain that it was a threat. Whatever it was was coming towards him fast.

Gimli pivoted, pulling his axe free from where it was held securely to his belt. He brought it up instinctively to protect his face as he turned, and throughout all of this he let out a yell that often worked alone to make an enemy hesitate.

His axe was met squarely by another such blunt object and Gimli had to momentarily close his eyes against the wave of pain that accompanied the jolt to his injured shoulder. When he opened them again, it took him a moment to realize that he did not have to defend any other blows.

"Mister Gimli?"

Gimli finally focused his eyes on the person standing before him, the one who had lunged out of the shadows from behind a building. It was Bergel.

"Bergel," Gimli said, lowering his axe. "We've been looking for you."

"I was hiding again," Bergel admitted, lowering the thick tree branch he had used to attack Gimli, "I don't wants the gold-haired elf to see me. He knows that I told, he knows what I told you and that you told Aragorn."

Gimli nodded. "Yes, that is why we were looking for you. We want to keep you safe and with us. So come back with us to the Houses of Healing and then we will all decide what to do."

Bergel gave a half-nod, but then hesitated, biting his lip. "Is Lord Aragorn to be there?"

"Of course," Gimli answered.

"Is he mad that I's lied to him?" Bergel asked tentatively, his fingers unconsciously gripping the branch tighter.

Gimli shook his head. "No, of course not, he understands why you did it. He knows that you are afraid. But all will be well now, you'll see, we will take care of everything."

Bergel seemed satisfied and complied with Gimli, falling into step beside him as Gimli turned to go back to the Houses of Healing.

"Why did your elf-friend hurt you?" Bergel asked after a moment's silence.

Gimli was slightly taken aback by the question. Partially because he did not have a full answer for it.

"I am not sure," Gimli finally said, "but I think it has something to do with the bad elf who has been hurting you. He has been trying to frame Legolas and Legolas takes his responsibilities and self-actions very seriously. He is not in his right frame of mind."

"No," Bergel agreed, "I's think he is not right either. I's think he feels bad for not helping the girl when he was in the woods with her."

Gimli stopped walking.

"What did you say?" he asked.

Bergel stopped too, his gaze lingering on the road ahead of them before looking back at Gimli. "I says your elf-friend feels bad."

Gimli nodded, but did not say anything. He was too busy looking at the man before him, at the many battle scars he wore, especially the mutilated ears that made it difficult for him to hear.

Yet he had heard Gimli coming easily enough earlier, enough to be able to attack him even though Gimli had not been talking and had been walking uncharacteristically soft. Legolas had been on his case for years now to learn how to walk softly, that Gimli had no hope of ever accomplishing anything by trouncing about so audibly all the time. After so much grief and lessons from the elf over the matter, the dwarf had finally fallen into the habit of walking quietly.

"Are you still afraid of the gold-haired elf?" Gimli asked Bergel, purposely pitching his voice at a much softer register than the one he normally reserved for the near deaf man.

Bergel was looking absently down the road again. "Yes," he answered, "I's be so scared of him. He is very mean. He say that elves has no business so close to men."

A huge alarm went off in Gimli's head.

He gripped his axe tighter, momentarily pleased that he had not secured it back to his belt. It was still free in his hands. That could prove to save him an extra step.

Gimli took a small breath.

"And do you believe him? Do you think that elves and men do not belong together?"

Bergel snapped his gaze back to Gimli, and for a brief moment an almost shrewd look swept through his normally blank eyes.

Gimli let out another cry and brought his axe up as fast as he was possibly able. And he thought he would be fast enough, but the next moment found him fighting for his balance as the heavy axe swung freely through the air, hitting nothing. For Bergel was not standing where he had been a second ago. He had leapt out of the axe's way, his normally bad leg notwithstanding.

"Damn," Bergel commented softly when Gimli had finally settled his balance, "and I almost thought I had you all fooled."

"Your first mistake was thinking you could turn me against my best friend," Gimli replied before taking another mighty swing at the man. But Bergel easily side-stepped this swing too, and Gimli immediately matched his movements with that of Legolas when they sparred together.

He was given no more time for further explanation as Bergel made a grab for the axe. Gimli tried to pull it towards himself, out of Bergel's reach, but a flare of pain from his still tender shoulder stopped him short and Bergel was able to get a hand on the handle of the axe.

"Oh no you don't," Gimli declared, "you must truly be crazy if you think you can pry a dwarf's axe from his hands while he is still breathing."

Bergel's eyes narrowed. "Then I just might have to take it from you when your breath halts." Bergel tugged on the axe, and though it stretched Gimli's wounded shoulder painfully, his grip did not falter.

"Though I find no use for such primitive weapons," Bergel added, letting go of the axe and leaping back and off to the side from Gimli, his hand going behind his own back as he did so. When he faced Gimli again, the dwarf easily spied the blade still red with previously spilled blood held firmly in his hand. And Gimli was able to recognize the designs on it.

"That's Legolas' knife," Gimli replied, outraged at the thought of one of his friend's prized possessions in the hands of this maniac.

"I was hoping it was," Bergel said. "After relieving it from the most recent victim, I was going to plant it conveniently for our Master Legolas again."

A small thought came to Gimli.

"You went so far as to cut yourself in this charade?"

Bergel glanced down at his own forearm, the red line still quite visible on his flesh. "What's one more scar compared to all the ones I already have?" he spat out.

Something else came to Gimli, and it occurred to him to ask, but that thought was wiped from his mind as he hurriedly had to duck and back away from a quick swipe from Legolas' knife that Bergel wielded. Everything still needed to sink into Gimli's mind, he was still used to this man before him being his friend. Bergel had been right, he had fooled everyone.

Gimli returned his own swipe from his axe blade, but Bergel danced nimbly around it. Gimli finally understood something. If he was going to defeat Bergel, he had to start thinking back to the many times he and Legolas sparred together. It had taken Gimli quite a while to learn that he had to use his head when fighting Legolas, he could not swing blindly and expect to hit his target as he would with orcs.

Gimli held the urges to deliver his own blows back and waited for Bergel to administer his own. Because of his much shorter weapon, Bergel was forced to get closer to Gimli and well within range. The only problem was staying out of the way of the blade as Gimli allowed him to strike, waiting for an advantage. Bergel was extremely fast.

After ducking one such swipe from Bergel, Gimli saw his opening. He crouched down low, letting Bergel's own momentum bring him even closer, then the dwarf sprang up, his axe coming up in a mighty swing.

And this time Gimli did not fail.

But it did not work exactly as he had hoped either.

Bergel saw the blow coming and hastily back-pedaled to avoid it, simultaneously bringing down his own weapon. The result was a horrible clash that made both combatants break apart and stand still for a while.

Bergel looked down and plucked at the cloth of his shirt with his free hand. Gimli's blow had not been devastating, but it still had been enough to give him a nice nick that ran the length of his chest, shredding his clothing and subsequent skin underneath.

Gimli looked down at his own injury. His left forearm had been laid open. It was the arm opposite from his shoulder wound, so now he had the joy of fighting with debilitating injuries on both arms. Though it did give him a small measure of grim satisfaction to see Bergel's own injury.

"And how are you going to blame this on Legolas?" Gimli called out.

Bergel looked up and stared at Gimli. "What do you mean?"

"If your intention is to kill me," Gimli answered, "how are you going to pin this one on Legolas? He is not even around."

Bergel snorted. "That matters not. There were a few times when he was not around, yet he was blamed easily enough. And the fool's guilt is enough to make himself believe it."

Gimli's ire flamed at the casual defiling of Legolas' name. Sure, he often called the elf foolish himself, and there were many a time when he damned a plague or so on the stubborn pride of the elf, but that was different, Gimli had earned that right with Legolas. This crazed individual was not even fit to mention his name.

"But you are forgetting one more thing," Gimli finally answered. "Legolas is in the Houses of Healing with Faramir. That's an alibi not even you can ruin with your deceit."

"I still do not see the problem," Bergel replied with a small smile on his face. "I can make it so they do not find your body for days. Do you think they will be able to pinpoint the exact moment that you died?"

Bergel paused to allow Gimli to process that information. Then he smiled again and glanced down at the delicate knife he held in his dirtied hands. "And when the blade is traced back to once again be Legolas', that's going to look awfully bad. Not to mention the grief your friend will feel over your death. He will become even worse than he is now, a wraith of himself. And he will gladly condemn himself to die at the hands of the townspeople in a public execution if he does not kill himself first."

A small flare of panic rose up in Gimli's chest at the man's words. But it was not for himself. His own death was unfathomable to him, he either died or he didn't, and if he did than his problems would be over anyway. No, the panic was for Legolas, because he believed what Bergel said. With the state Legolas was in now, if he thought there was some way he was responsible for Gimli's death, he would surely die himself, but not before suffering unbearable torment.

Gimli's hold on his axe tightened again.

Suddenly, he had the insane urge to want to be rescued by Aragorn.

That was a first, normally he would reject help in a battle even if it was offered to him, he never thought he would be against an opponent that would be too much for him. One way or another, he would come out on top.

But now, he had the thought that Aragorn would be returning to the Houses of Healing at this time after not being able to find Bergel. And if he took the streets, he would have to pass by Gimli and Bergel. If Gimli could hold on a little longer, than Aragorn could do something. Gimli was not sure what, he did not think Aragorn was that much of a better fighter than he, but he was almost sure that with the charade Bergel had set up he would be hesitant of blowing his cover in front of Aragorn.

Ah, but what would that matter anyway? Bergel knew plainly that Gimli would tell Aragorn anyway. The only way he could keep up his facade was if he killed Gimli, and that was the last possibility Gimli wanted to happen.

His mind whirling with tactics and things that could or would happen, Gimli grit his teeth and prepared himself for a fresh onslaught.