A/N: Wow! I was so happy with all my reviews to Chapter One! Thank you, everyone! I hope to post another chapter before the end of the week but I can't promise. Here's the second chapter in the mean time.
See Chapter One for disclaimer.
Chapter Two: The Gathering Storm
Gimli watched Aragorn go with a shake of his head. He knew he should be angry with the Man---his actions had been completely uncalled for. But at the same time he understood the pressure the ranger had been under, especially since Gandalf's fall in the Mines of Moria. And Legolas...well, maybe he didn't quite understand how the minds of Elves worked, but Gimli knew the archer was quite young by his peoples' immeasurable lifespans. If the young men of Rohan felt fear and anxiety at the coming battle, a young Elf had as much right.
"Master Gimli?" called a familiar voice.
Gimli turned to see a fair woman emerge from the hall hand make her way toward him. He easily recognized Eowyn, niece of Rohan's king, as she maneuvered her way around awkwardly hampered men to reach him. She had bound her long hair to keep it back from her face and, he noticed, she wore a broad sword belted on her hip.
"Lady Eowyn," he chastised gently, "all women were sent to the caverns. Surely your uncle will not approve of you being out here."
"Even my uncle understands that men need to eat, Master Gimli. We have food in the main hall so you can eat before the battle." She looked around. "Have you seen Lord Aragorn?"
"He's about. Checking the defenses, no doubt. I'll send him to the hall when I see him."
"I heard what happened in the armory," Eowyn began. "Is---"
"Ah, don't worry yourself about that," Gimli said with more confidence than he felt. "'Twas just a misunderstanding. When they have a chance to settle their nerves, they'll both see that."
As he talked, the Dwarf caught a glimpse of Legolas then, standing at the entrance to the hall. Legolas stood for a long moment, watching the activity around him. He briefly met Gimli's gaze, then strode away.
"Excuse me, lass. I've some business to take care of."
Gimli bowed slightly and made his way around the press of bodies going in and out of the hall but realized he had lost sight of Legolas. Looking around, he saw a short, bearded Man with gray-streaked hair that he recognized as an advisor to the king. The Man was leaning against a wall and hungrily spooning the contents of a bowl into his mouth. Gimli made his way to him.
"Lord---" Gimli paused, the name escaping him.
"Gamling, Master Dwarf," replied the man, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He nodded to his left. "The kitchens are that way. They'd be happy to serve you some stew."
The aroma of the stew in the bowl turned Gimli's stomach. "It's not food I'm after. I'm looking for my companion, Legolas. He was here a few moments ago."
Gamling nodded, shoveling another spoonful of stew into his mouth. "He headed toward the armory."
With a hasty thanks, Gimli excused himself. He went through the archway and down the steep stairs leading to the now-deserted armory. The weapon racks were empty except for a few items too battered to be useful even at this desperate time. Several shields had been cast aside carelessly, abandoned for ones that didn't need large amounts of repair. Bits and pieces of armor were scattered about the room, all that remained of the piecemeal armor that had hastily been assembled for the unprepared Rohirrim citizenry.
Legolas moved among the armor, seeming to sort through it. He picked up a chain mail shirt and discarded it, then found a long piece of hard leather with straps holding it together and held it up. He cocked his head to the side, studying it and comparing its length and shape to his arm.
"That is a greave and goes about your leg," Gimli offered from the foot of the stairs. Legolas sighed and tossed aside the armor but didn't look around as he continued his search. "I thought the Elves of Mirkwood didn't wear armor."
"We don't. But shooting from the shelter of a tree is different than an exposed position as is here." Legolas turned to look at Gimli, his expression bleak. "I don't even know what I am looking for."
"Let me help." Gimli came forward, eyeing the Elf thoughtfully. "I don't think you'll be wanting something as heavy as chain mail. Not the way you fight." He began sorting through some of the armor, discarding some pieces and setting others aside. "Even if they breach the wall, I imagine you'll use your bow as long as possible."
"I fear most of the armor would slow me down too much to use my knives as well."
Gimli grunted. "Here. Try this on."
He held up what looked like a thick leather vest with straps and buckles on each side beneath the arm holes. Legolas undid the buckles and slipped it over his head, then awkwardly tightened the straps and buckles. "How can anyone move in this, let alone fight?" he asked, twisting and turning.
"You get used to it. And you don't go jumping around like a squirrel when you're wearing it." Legolas smiled slightly. Gimli said, "Let me see." Legolas meekly submitted to Gimli pulling the armor at various angles and trying to move it around. "Too loose. A sword would go right through there." Gimli poked a finger through a space below Legolas' arm.
"Maybe something just for the arms and shoulders?" Legolas asked. "Something that won't hinder my movement?"
Gimli made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat and began searching again. Soon he came up with two sections of overlapping pieces of leather riveted together, joined by leather straps and connected to a dizzying assortment of straps and buckles. The Dwarf patiently sorted out pieces, coming away with the large assembly and fewer straps.
"This may just do the trick for you. Kneel down and we'll see how it fits."
Legolas removed his quiver and knives, set them aside, and dropped to one knee before Gimli. Gimli maneuvered the leather straps over his head and settled the leather across his shoulders and down his forearms. Legolas reached up and pulled his long hair free from the contraption, then studied it as Gimli buckled the straps and made adjustments. The leather was fairly thick and had been stained a dark reddish-brown. Delicate geometric designs had been etched along the edges and dusted with gilt, although most of the color was now gone. Two straps bound each half to his upper arms and another went around his chest. It weighed little more than his quiver and a full flight of arrows combined.
"There we go," Gimli said. "See if that will work."
Legolas rose and strapped his equipment back in place. With one swift move, he pulled the bow to his hand and strung an arrow. A slight frown creased his forehead and he returned the arrow to its place. He adjusted the straps of the quiver as they crossed his chest so the quiver hung at an angle over his right shoulder instead of nearly straight up and down. He repeated his earlier maneuver and drew the bow fully, then nodded. In another rapid move, he drew his twin knives and went through a series of attacks and dodges before sheathing them and turning to Gimli with a smile on his face.
Gimli nodded. "Well, it'll do until I can convince you a suit of armor would work even better if you're going to war," he said.
Legolas lost his smile. He lowered his gaze and started past Gimli, intending to leave the armory. Gimli grabbed his arm and stopped him, although Legolas didn't look up.
"Legolas. Talk to me."
Legolas raised his head, gazing up the stairs. "I don't belong here, Gimli. I am among strangers."
"Not strangers, lad. New friends."
"Who will be dead by morning."
"Maybe." Gimli sat on the stairs and dug his pipe out of a pouch. "We don't know that for sure. But that's not what's really bothering you, is it?"
Legolas didn't answer right away. Gimli lit his pipe and puffed slowly at it, watching the Elf. Legolas finally turned to him. "I have lived more centuries than most Men can count. Yet, I have seen more death in these past few months than I ever care to see again!" he exclaimed. "And I will see more die this night."
"Good friends."
Legolas looked away again. "Aye."
"Legolas, do you think you're the only one who feels this way?" Gimli gestured with his pipe, taking in the whole keep. "Everyone here, from the oldest to the smallest child, knows what will more than likely happen tonight. Even Aragorn---"
"Aragorn is a fool."
Gimli frowned. "Because he hides his fear?"
"Because he thinks we can win."
A heavy sigh caused Legolas to whirl around. Aragorn emerged from behind a weapon case a few feet away, wearing chain mail under his ranger garb. The Man's expression was one of deep sorrow. Legolas stared at him and then glared at Gimli, his expression one of betrayal and humiliation.
"You knew he was there, listening!" he shouted at the Dwarf.
"He didn't," Aragorn said. "Legolas, we need to talk."
"I have said all I have to say to you. And you didn't listen. I have nothing more to say to you, Aragorn, son of Arathorn."
Legolas spun on heel and strode up the stairs. Aragorn sighed and looked at Gimli. "He wouldn't let me talk to him," he said. "I hurt him, Gimli. I hurt his spirit."
"It could have gone better," Gimli agreed. "But he'll come around, Aragorn. He's still your friend. What happened won't change that."
"I wish I could believe you."
Suddenly the sound of a horn echoed through the armory. Gimli rose, hand going to his axe, and grumbled, "Are they asleep up there? Letting the orcs get so close?"
"That is no orc horn," said Aragorn, rushing up the stairs.
As he and Gimli arrived on the steps above the narrow courtyard of Helm's Deep, an army marched through the doors. Dark cloaks hid their features from sight and protected them from the chill wind but they moved with inhuman grace. Each new arrival carried a long bow of exquisite craftsmanship. A banner in colors of green and gold flew from a staff carried near the head of the column. At the head of the army marched a tall, handsome Elf whose gold-washed armor shone in the flickering firelight.
Theoden, Rohan's king, rushed down the steps past Aragorn and Gimli. "How is this possible?" he asked in disbelief as the Elf lord bowed to him, human-fashion.
"I bring greetings from Lord Elrond of Rivendell," said Haldir, marchwarden of Lothlorien. "An alliance once existed between Elves and Men." He raised his eyes to Aragorn and smiled slightly. "We come to honor that alliance."
"Mae govannen, Haldir," greeted Aragorn, rushing forward to embrace him in greeting. "You are most welcome."
Gimli saw Legolas out of the corner of his eye. The archer moved down the stairs and greeted Haldir in a similar fashion before moving away again. A slight smile crossed the Dwarf's bearded features. Well, maybe things weren't so grim now.
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tbc