Farewell to the Fellowship
By: Young Storyteller
Chapter 5: The Final Journey
Night comes once more upon the city and cloaked the world in its blanket of darkness. In the deep gloom, none save elvish eyes could have marked a lone figure walking towards the great gates and disappearing as a wisp of cloud unnoticed by the guards on duty for the night.
Legolas had left Gimli to seek some peace that had seemed to be eluding him of late. Gimli was deep in slumber when he had left and he had preferred it thus, or else the dwarf would insist on accompanying him and tiring his aged body. It was a dark night for the moon herself was shrouded in clouds as if she herself was in mourning this night. His swift feet brought him to a small section of woods near the city where Anduin could be heard slithering in the silent night, restless in its pursuit of the sea since the beginning of time. He had always come there to seek comfort for the woods small though it was, offered a familiarity to him whenever he grew tired of the city. Often, he would take Gimli with him.
The sea.
The elf shook his head as if trying to get the thought out of his mind. Long had he denied his desire to sail over the sea. For the sake of his friends, he had locked his sea-longing deep within him. But he knew that by doing so that he was condemning himself with a cruel poison. One that kills slowly yet surely and in the end leaves the sufferer in complete mercy of its powers. And Legolas knew that his endurance was nearing its limits. It was now or never, he knew and to linger would be folly.
He clutched the ring that Arwen had entrusted to him in his fingers. A promise made is a promise kept and Legolas could never deny the lovely lady her last wish. In his heart, Legolas knew that Arwen had gone from city. Forsaking all that she had, to ease the pain of her dear husband's passing. Arwen was already lost to Legolas the last time they had met.
Just like when he had lost all of his other friends. Just as he had lost Aragorn.
And here he yet lingers. Not aging a day it seemed as time passes. But as he looked upon all around him, he hardly knew the world in which he had long lived in anymore. The time of the elves is over. All that he had known seemed to disappear as mists of early mornings under the glare of the rising sun. His people were about to pass into myth. And Legolas laments for all that was now only left as memories of the days gone by.
Gimli had insisted to know of his trouble, just as the dwarf said he would ere their final meeting with Arwen. The dwarf was adamant that Legolas confide whatever it is that was bothering him. The dwarf cannot be ceased in his indignation to learn of what was bothering him so and after a while Legolas had finally given in. They talked for a good few hours (Gimli managed to stay awake longer that he'd done lately in his determination to learn of what was plaguing the elf's mind).
Legolas had explained nothing that the dwarf had not already known but he also conveniently excluded the part of the fear he felt about losing the dwarf as he had lost many of his friends. But Legolas could tell that the dwarf had discerned much of his thoughts. Much more than Legolas had let out in words. Thankfully Gimli did not press him to say more and Legolas did not intend to. Bless the dwarf though, for his understanding. Legolas normally would not think of dwarves as very thoughtful creatures (although he didn't really meet many of them) but Gimli of course, was an exception and for that, he was thankful.
The leaves of the trees rustled together as a soft breeze played upon them as if voicing enchanting whispers among each other that only they could understand. Gentle winds caressed Legolas's face. Yet all this did not comfort the heart of the elf. The scent in the air is strangely familiar. The playful winds had brought with them tidings from the sea.
'The sea'.
It was all Legolas could do, to stop himself from abandoning everything and plunging himself mindlessly into the river that he knew would lead to the sea that was calling to him.
'Teasing him'.
'Taunting him'.
'Tormenting him'.
But an image of frost covered thick red beard, a grumbling voice he was so fond of and warm dark eyes, brought Legolas back to his muddled senses.
'Gimli.'
And the thought of his beloved friend was both a gift and a curse. A gift it was in the sense that it brought the elf back to rational thoughts but a curse it was also for it inflicted more grieve upon the elf. Because no matter what happened, Legolas knew that he would never bear to bid farewell to the dear 'old' dwarf. But Gimli was a mortal and no mortal save by the grace of Iluvatar alone had ever escaped the clutches of death went it came to claim the life that was borrowed. Legolas knew of all this. He had seen death laid claim upon all that lives with his very eyes.
It proved too much a burden for the elf to bear. He cannot choose between his burning desire to sail to the havens or to stay with Gimli to the very end. Also, he had made a promise to the Lady Arwen and he meant not to break it. But in the end, no matter which road he chooses, he will lose his friend anyway. He was weary of farewells, and to think that another one is lurking around the corner filled his heart with much pain. He could find no peace there, even among the comforting embrace of the woods.
Yet, the world did not stop all the while one elf was struggling with his mind. Already dawn was approaching and the first light of the day was peeking from behind the jagged peaks of Ephel Duath. But the sun was yet not fully awake and it will be a few hours till she was properly up.
When Gimli awoke in the morning, the first thing he realised was that he was immensely hungry. The second thing he noticed and the most alarming to him, was that Legolas was nowhere to be found inside the house. Ignoring his growling and severely protesting stomach begging to be fed, Gimli proceeded to scouring the rather spacious house for the elf.
'Now where did the blasted elf had gone to, so early in the morning?' he grumbled to himself, matching the grumbling of his belly.
But Gimli's gruff words and tone as it always had, held no remorse in their depth but was fuelled with a deep worry for his friend's well being. He knew that Legolas was grieving more for Aragorn's passing than he had let on. And Gimli also knew that Legolas felt torn about leaving him to sail to the havens although the elf had steadfastly refused to tell him openly. 'Curse the elven pride,' thought the dwarf. To Gimli, Legolas was one of the proudest elf he had ever known (not that he'd chosen to know many himself). Proud and extremely arrogant, his elven friend had never ceased to torment him with what the dwarf called 'strange elven behaviours.' If any other elf had unwittingly offended Gimli with such behaviours (fortunately none, with the exception of Legolas.) the dwarf would not think twice in letting his wrath known. But Legolas was his 'proud and arrogant' elf friend and Gimli would not want him to be any other way although he would rather shave his beard first than saying it out loud.
So when Legolas seemed to be much more silent than usual before Aragorn's passing, Gimli promptly knew that something was amiss. The elf was exceptionally good at hiding his emotions. Oh, yes. The dwarf knew it only too well. Legolas perfected the art of keeping his emotions from prying eyes like it was his second nature. But, long companionship with the elf had made Gimli able to read Legolas like a book. And he knew that Legolas could read him as well as Gimli did him or better.
'Where is he?' Gimli thought frantically. His stomach had let itself known with a very loud growl. Legolas was not upstairs either. Gimli's back had also decided to join his stomach in protesting. Gimli stretched and grimaced. His keen eyes caught sight of a slice of half eaten bread upon the table. Yesterday's ration but still good and it was better than nothing. The dwarf polished the bread with relish and although it was not enough to sate his large appetite, he was content. 'Now to find the elf', Gimli thought. Satisfied that Legolas is definitely not in the house (Gimli had been yelling the elf's name at the top of his lungs) he ventured outside. Initially, he meant to search for the elf at the palace in case he had gone thither for some business. But instinct told Gimli that it was not so.
'Hm, where would Legolas go to ease his mind?' Gimli wondered.
The answer came to the dwarf even before he thought of the question. Of course, Legolas would seek comfort there. Gimli had no hesitation whatsoever that his assumption might be wrong. Hurriedly, he made his way to the gates. The guards greeted him politely when they saw him but much to Gimli's disappointment not one of the guards had seen the elf. But Gimli was sure that he was not mistaken. He went on.
The morning breeze greeted the dwarf as he walked upon the small woodland. The river was raging beside the woods. Small spring flowers were beginning to sprout themselves out of the damp earth after their long winter slumber. A small orange butterfly was fluttering amongst the greenery. So beautiful it was that Gimli actually stopped to look upon it. He had nearly extended his arm to touch the dazzling creature when he caught himself. What was he doing? He needed to find his friend and that behaviour of his was absolutely absurd! What if one of his kindred happened to walk past just then? Worse, what if the elf himself had caught him? Legolas would never let Gimli hear the end of it, the dwarf was sure.
'Look at what spending too much time with you is making me do, elf,' he thought to himself darkly. But suddenly, Gimli felt sadden that their days of companionship would soon end when the elf leaves for Valinor. The dwarf had always tried not to think of it but he had always known that he would lose Legolas thus. And that time has finally arrived. Gimli knew that with the passing of Aragorn that the elf will soon give in to his longing. Sometimes, Gimli envied the relationship that the man and elf had shared. It was very much similar in nature to Gimli's own relationship with legolas but there was a bond that was untouchable in their friendship that Gimli couldn't really decipher. It was born from pure love and brotherhood and the men and elf shared the deepest of it.
Sighing, the dwarf continued his search. His stomach was still protesting though not as terribly as before but he still felt rather sore in the back. Growing old is not fun as Gimli grudgingly had to agree. One would wonder why the dwarf has not start yelling his friend's name like he did in their lodging. The woods are small and should he yell in that booming voice of his, every creature in the confinement of the area would hear him perfectly even with Anduin rushing beside it. But as Gimli had often accompanied the elf to the place, he had learned that it was a peaceful area and noise of any sort was not welcome there. It was a very elvish thought indeed but thankfully, Gimli did not realise this. His keen sight was actively at work this very morning as he caught sight of the person he was looking for.
Alarm fills Gimli's mind when he saw that Legolas was slumped against a tree that was the elf's favourite as if unconscious. 'Or something worse,' Gimli's mind thought fearfully. The dwarf knew the price of grief on elven souls. He lunged forward in a speed that belied his age.
'Legolas!'
The elf did not stir which alarms Gimli even more. Legolas was usually very alert even in rest. Now it was his turn to kneel beside the elf's prone body. Legolas's eyes were open but unseeing and much to Gimli's eternal relief, the elf was breathing. Normally. The elf was merely asleep. In normal circumstances, Gimli might have claimed revenge upon Legolas to get back to the elf for the 'amusing' way in which he had used to wake Gimli up just yesterday but today it isn't normal. The fact that Legolas did not even stir or awknowledged Gimli's presence disturbed the dwarf greatly. Legolas, as all elves were, has perfect senses and he would never let anyone caught him unawares. Also, Gimli realised, his friend looked tired, weary and spent as if he had spent the whole night in a battle. Which he did, if Gimli only knew. Legolas had fought with his emotions which could prove a dangerous battle for elves.
'Legolas, wake up, my friend. It is a fair morning that I'm sure you will approve,' said Gimli shaking the elf's shoulders with such gentleness he did not know he possess.
Legolas stirred. His eyes lost their previously vacant look that they held and was replaced by one of recognition. And great confusion.
'Gimli?'
Gimli smiled. 'Yes, it's me elf. Are you all right?'
Legolas nodded. 'What happened?'
'Well, I was just about to ask you the very exact question, my friend.'
Legolas though did not felt like explaining. He did not remember when sleep had laid claim upon him. He must have exhausted himself from grieving.
'What is the time now?' Legolas asked.
'I figured that it is almost 8 o'clock in the morning of the second day of March,' answered Gimli.
'How did you find me?' asked Legolas as he stood up and dusted his raiment.
'It was not hard elf. Why did you choose to sleep here Legolas? And without informing me too! You had me worried when I woke up and found that you are all but missing without as much as a message,' said Gimli.
Legolas did not look to him as he answered. 'Forgive me Gimli, I meant not to worry you. But I cannot find any peace in the city my friend, said Legolas. 'Nor can I find them here,' he added softly.
Gimli eyed his friend with critical eyes. 'The sea calls to you again,' Gimli said.
Legolas nodded slowly, his gaze still refused to meet Gimli's.
'I aer cad enni ui,' Legolas whispered softly. The words were not meant for Gimli to hear. But the dwarf did heard nonetheless.
It is at times like this that Gimli regretted not learning the elven language.
'Legolas, you know I don't understand any other word of elvish except maybe 'elvellon' and mellon (thanks to Moria), so could you please repeat what you have just said in the common tongue, if you don't mind,' said Gimli patiently.
Legolas was caught off-guard by the dwarf's sudden politeness and for the first time that morning he turned to look Gimli in the eye although his expression was unreadable to the dwarf.
'Forgive me Gimli. I intended no offence,' he said quietly, taking his gaze elsewhere again towards the horizon. He opened his mouth again to speak but the words did not come for his breath was caught in his throat as he saw a flock of white birds flying over the horizon. Their wailings, pierced the stillness of the morning air and pierced also the heart of the elf. For indeed they were gulls. The birds that spoke of the wide sea in their unceasing wailing of the crashes of waves upon the shore and white sand upon beaches.
And Legolas deep longing was stirred as it never had been. Gimli felt as if a tide of sorrow had come crashing down upon him as he looked at the mesmerised gaze of his friend. Legolas would soon leave him. The call of the sea had won. 'Better this way,' thought Gimli, 'than before the elf stood upon another grave.' He knew that the grief would kill Legolas then and his friend does not deserve that.
'We are all that's left of the Fellowship, Gimli,' said Legolas at length. Gimli had no answer to the statement. When his time comes, he too would have to go and then Legolas would be truly alone. The thought scared Gimli. They were silent.
'The sea calls me always my friend,' Legolas whispered after a while.
'Then you should answer them calls,' said Gimli loyally. 'You had eluded them for far too long already, my friend.'
Legolas turned to look upon him and sadness was in his glance. 'But I cannot leave you Gimli,' he said softly.
Gimli snorted to hide his own melancholy. He hated it when the elf was in one of these moods. He liked it even lesser when he himself was being affected by it.
'Better do it soon, while I can still bid you farewell. I doubt that it would mean anything to me when I'm deep under the earth,' said Gimli. 'And that ring you hold. You have promised the lady to bear it across the sea.
Legolas was fingering the precious ring and did not answer. They were silent again as time stretches and Gimli's stomach was again beginning to get impatient.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, Legolas turned towards Gimli again and this time strangely, there was joy in his glance.
'What?' Gimli asked.
'Gimli, whom is it to you is the fairest Lady in the whole of Arda?' Legolas asked as if he is in a game of riddles.
Gimli looked at Legolas as if the elf had suddenly grown two heads. 'What?'
'You heard me the first time my friend,' said Legolas.
Gimli knew the answer to Legolas's questions at once for she had always held his heart. A vision of enchanting loveliness entered the thoughts of Gimli. He had often thought of her in his waking existence and often she had graced his dreams with her beautiful presence. Gimli would never forget the sparkle of elven eyes turned towards him with kindness and understanding in the glance or the sound of her voice like the clear ringing of wind chimes, soothing his soul. 'None other can surpass the beauty of the Lady Galadriel, the loveliest of ladies upon Earth,' said Gimli as he felt a soft blush spreading across his cheeks. Legolas just smiled. The elf had long known the answer.
'Do you still carry her gift with you my friend?' asked Legolas.
'Aye, I carry it with me always,' answered Gimli. And truthfully, three locks of golden hair were indeed tucked neatly inside Gimli's tunic, near his heart. He had at first plan to keep it safe upon a golden cushion in a glass case as an heirloom of his house, but he found his thoughts often strayed to them when he was away. Therefore, the locks of hair had since found their residence closest to the dwarf's heart.
'But it would never be the same as setting eyes upon her beauty again, will it?' Legolas continued softly.
'Nay-.where are you getting at elf? Be swift with it for my belly grows impatient,' Gimli growled, cursing the 'strange elven behaviours' more so than usual that day.
'If you have a chance to return the gift back to the owner, would you do it, Gimli?' said Legolas.
'I would,' Gimli answered, when suddenly understanding dawned upon him about what the elf is trying to imply. 'Do not offer what is not yours to give, Legolas,' he warned.
'If you were to come with me my friend, then you could,' Legolas said.
'But no dwarf had ever been allowed to that place. Furthermore, I doubt that the lady even remembers me,' Gimli reasoned. In truth, it was an offer too good to be true to Gimli. But he knew that the grace was difficult to obtain and he dared not hope too much upon it.
'Then you are wrong, Gimli. She always held you in her thoughts just as you always held her gift in you heart. Come with me Gimli. I would plead for you on my knees in front of Iluvatar himself if need be. But I think not. Even among my own people, you are renowned for your brave deeds, my friend.'
Gimli hesitated. How do you plan to journey to the Blessed Realm?'
A ship I will build in Ithilien. A grey ship that will sail away to the West and never to return. Please Gimli, I bid you come with me,' Legolas was all but pleading. He knew that he would never leave without Gimli.
'I cannot give you my answer now. I need to think it over first,' said Gimli.
Now it was Legolas's turn to be patient. 'Then I will wait for your answer, my friend. But do not be too long in pondering them I beg,' said the elf.
'A month later'.
The elf-lord of South Ithilien had given up his realm to answer at last the call of the sea that he had so long been denying. With him it is said, went also his great friend, the dwarf-lord of Aglarond. They brought along with them a token that symbolises all the deeds of the lost ages. Neither to the greenwood nor to the glittering caves did the two friends walked evermore. The grey sail of the elven ship was a glorious sight to behold as it sailed away from Middle-earth in the early morning. And when the sight of white shores and beyond them a far green country spilt in sunlight greeted the ship, two hearts finally found their peace.
The End.
'And when that ship passed, an end is come upon middle-earth of the Fellowship of the Ring.'
J.R.R. Tolkien
Thank you to all who have read and reviewed this story. A special mention to Frodo3791 who had without fail reviewed all the chapters. Thank you.
By: Young Storyteller
Chapter 5: The Final Journey
Night comes once more upon the city and cloaked the world in its blanket of darkness. In the deep gloom, none save elvish eyes could have marked a lone figure walking towards the great gates and disappearing as a wisp of cloud unnoticed by the guards on duty for the night.
Legolas had left Gimli to seek some peace that had seemed to be eluding him of late. Gimli was deep in slumber when he had left and he had preferred it thus, or else the dwarf would insist on accompanying him and tiring his aged body. It was a dark night for the moon herself was shrouded in clouds as if she herself was in mourning this night. His swift feet brought him to a small section of woods near the city where Anduin could be heard slithering in the silent night, restless in its pursuit of the sea since the beginning of time. He had always come there to seek comfort for the woods small though it was, offered a familiarity to him whenever he grew tired of the city. Often, he would take Gimli with him.
The sea.
The elf shook his head as if trying to get the thought out of his mind. Long had he denied his desire to sail over the sea. For the sake of his friends, he had locked his sea-longing deep within him. But he knew that by doing so that he was condemning himself with a cruel poison. One that kills slowly yet surely and in the end leaves the sufferer in complete mercy of its powers. And Legolas knew that his endurance was nearing its limits. It was now or never, he knew and to linger would be folly.
He clutched the ring that Arwen had entrusted to him in his fingers. A promise made is a promise kept and Legolas could never deny the lovely lady her last wish. In his heart, Legolas knew that Arwen had gone from city. Forsaking all that she had, to ease the pain of her dear husband's passing. Arwen was already lost to Legolas the last time they had met.
Just like when he had lost all of his other friends. Just as he had lost Aragorn.
And here he yet lingers. Not aging a day it seemed as time passes. But as he looked upon all around him, he hardly knew the world in which he had long lived in anymore. The time of the elves is over. All that he had known seemed to disappear as mists of early mornings under the glare of the rising sun. His people were about to pass into myth. And Legolas laments for all that was now only left as memories of the days gone by.
Gimli had insisted to know of his trouble, just as the dwarf said he would ere their final meeting with Arwen. The dwarf was adamant that Legolas confide whatever it is that was bothering him. The dwarf cannot be ceased in his indignation to learn of what was bothering him so and after a while Legolas had finally given in. They talked for a good few hours (Gimli managed to stay awake longer that he'd done lately in his determination to learn of what was plaguing the elf's mind).
Legolas had explained nothing that the dwarf had not already known but he also conveniently excluded the part of the fear he felt about losing the dwarf as he had lost many of his friends. But Legolas could tell that the dwarf had discerned much of his thoughts. Much more than Legolas had let out in words. Thankfully Gimli did not press him to say more and Legolas did not intend to. Bless the dwarf though, for his understanding. Legolas normally would not think of dwarves as very thoughtful creatures (although he didn't really meet many of them) but Gimli of course, was an exception and for that, he was thankful.
The leaves of the trees rustled together as a soft breeze played upon them as if voicing enchanting whispers among each other that only they could understand. Gentle winds caressed Legolas's face. Yet all this did not comfort the heart of the elf. The scent in the air is strangely familiar. The playful winds had brought with them tidings from the sea.
'The sea'.
It was all Legolas could do, to stop himself from abandoning everything and plunging himself mindlessly into the river that he knew would lead to the sea that was calling to him.
'Teasing him'.
'Taunting him'.
'Tormenting him'.
But an image of frost covered thick red beard, a grumbling voice he was so fond of and warm dark eyes, brought Legolas back to his muddled senses.
'Gimli.'
And the thought of his beloved friend was both a gift and a curse. A gift it was in the sense that it brought the elf back to rational thoughts but a curse it was also for it inflicted more grieve upon the elf. Because no matter what happened, Legolas knew that he would never bear to bid farewell to the dear 'old' dwarf. But Gimli was a mortal and no mortal save by the grace of Iluvatar alone had ever escaped the clutches of death went it came to claim the life that was borrowed. Legolas knew of all this. He had seen death laid claim upon all that lives with his very eyes.
It proved too much a burden for the elf to bear. He cannot choose between his burning desire to sail to the havens or to stay with Gimli to the very end. Also, he had made a promise to the Lady Arwen and he meant not to break it. But in the end, no matter which road he chooses, he will lose his friend anyway. He was weary of farewells, and to think that another one is lurking around the corner filled his heart with much pain. He could find no peace there, even among the comforting embrace of the woods.
Yet, the world did not stop all the while one elf was struggling with his mind. Already dawn was approaching and the first light of the day was peeking from behind the jagged peaks of Ephel Duath. But the sun was yet not fully awake and it will be a few hours till she was properly up.
When Gimli awoke in the morning, the first thing he realised was that he was immensely hungry. The second thing he noticed and the most alarming to him, was that Legolas was nowhere to be found inside the house. Ignoring his growling and severely protesting stomach begging to be fed, Gimli proceeded to scouring the rather spacious house for the elf.
'Now where did the blasted elf had gone to, so early in the morning?' he grumbled to himself, matching the grumbling of his belly.
But Gimli's gruff words and tone as it always had, held no remorse in their depth but was fuelled with a deep worry for his friend's well being. He knew that Legolas was grieving more for Aragorn's passing than he had let on. And Gimli also knew that Legolas felt torn about leaving him to sail to the havens although the elf had steadfastly refused to tell him openly. 'Curse the elven pride,' thought the dwarf. To Gimli, Legolas was one of the proudest elf he had ever known (not that he'd chosen to know many himself). Proud and extremely arrogant, his elven friend had never ceased to torment him with what the dwarf called 'strange elven behaviours.' If any other elf had unwittingly offended Gimli with such behaviours (fortunately none, with the exception of Legolas.) the dwarf would not think twice in letting his wrath known. But Legolas was his 'proud and arrogant' elf friend and Gimli would not want him to be any other way although he would rather shave his beard first than saying it out loud.
So when Legolas seemed to be much more silent than usual before Aragorn's passing, Gimli promptly knew that something was amiss. The elf was exceptionally good at hiding his emotions. Oh, yes. The dwarf knew it only too well. Legolas perfected the art of keeping his emotions from prying eyes like it was his second nature. But, long companionship with the elf had made Gimli able to read Legolas like a book. And he knew that Legolas could read him as well as Gimli did him or better.
'Where is he?' Gimli thought frantically. His stomach had let itself known with a very loud growl. Legolas was not upstairs either. Gimli's back had also decided to join his stomach in protesting. Gimli stretched and grimaced. His keen eyes caught sight of a slice of half eaten bread upon the table. Yesterday's ration but still good and it was better than nothing. The dwarf polished the bread with relish and although it was not enough to sate his large appetite, he was content. 'Now to find the elf', Gimli thought. Satisfied that Legolas is definitely not in the house (Gimli had been yelling the elf's name at the top of his lungs) he ventured outside. Initially, he meant to search for the elf at the palace in case he had gone thither for some business. But instinct told Gimli that it was not so.
'Hm, where would Legolas go to ease his mind?' Gimli wondered.
The answer came to the dwarf even before he thought of the question. Of course, Legolas would seek comfort there. Gimli had no hesitation whatsoever that his assumption might be wrong. Hurriedly, he made his way to the gates. The guards greeted him politely when they saw him but much to Gimli's disappointment not one of the guards had seen the elf. But Gimli was sure that he was not mistaken. He went on.
The morning breeze greeted the dwarf as he walked upon the small woodland. The river was raging beside the woods. Small spring flowers were beginning to sprout themselves out of the damp earth after their long winter slumber. A small orange butterfly was fluttering amongst the greenery. So beautiful it was that Gimli actually stopped to look upon it. He had nearly extended his arm to touch the dazzling creature when he caught himself. What was he doing? He needed to find his friend and that behaviour of his was absolutely absurd! What if one of his kindred happened to walk past just then? Worse, what if the elf himself had caught him? Legolas would never let Gimli hear the end of it, the dwarf was sure.
'Look at what spending too much time with you is making me do, elf,' he thought to himself darkly. But suddenly, Gimli felt sadden that their days of companionship would soon end when the elf leaves for Valinor. The dwarf had always tried not to think of it but he had always known that he would lose Legolas thus. And that time has finally arrived. Gimli knew that with the passing of Aragorn that the elf will soon give in to his longing. Sometimes, Gimli envied the relationship that the man and elf had shared. It was very much similar in nature to Gimli's own relationship with legolas but there was a bond that was untouchable in their friendship that Gimli couldn't really decipher. It was born from pure love and brotherhood and the men and elf shared the deepest of it.
Sighing, the dwarf continued his search. His stomach was still protesting though not as terribly as before but he still felt rather sore in the back. Growing old is not fun as Gimli grudgingly had to agree. One would wonder why the dwarf has not start yelling his friend's name like he did in their lodging. The woods are small and should he yell in that booming voice of his, every creature in the confinement of the area would hear him perfectly even with Anduin rushing beside it. But as Gimli had often accompanied the elf to the place, he had learned that it was a peaceful area and noise of any sort was not welcome there. It was a very elvish thought indeed but thankfully, Gimli did not realise this. His keen sight was actively at work this very morning as he caught sight of the person he was looking for.
Alarm fills Gimli's mind when he saw that Legolas was slumped against a tree that was the elf's favourite as if unconscious. 'Or something worse,' Gimli's mind thought fearfully. The dwarf knew the price of grief on elven souls. He lunged forward in a speed that belied his age.
'Legolas!'
The elf did not stir which alarms Gimli even more. Legolas was usually very alert even in rest. Now it was his turn to kneel beside the elf's prone body. Legolas's eyes were open but unseeing and much to Gimli's eternal relief, the elf was breathing. Normally. The elf was merely asleep. In normal circumstances, Gimli might have claimed revenge upon Legolas to get back to the elf for the 'amusing' way in which he had used to wake Gimli up just yesterday but today it isn't normal. The fact that Legolas did not even stir or awknowledged Gimli's presence disturbed the dwarf greatly. Legolas, as all elves were, has perfect senses and he would never let anyone caught him unawares. Also, Gimli realised, his friend looked tired, weary and spent as if he had spent the whole night in a battle. Which he did, if Gimli only knew. Legolas had fought with his emotions which could prove a dangerous battle for elves.
'Legolas, wake up, my friend. It is a fair morning that I'm sure you will approve,' said Gimli shaking the elf's shoulders with such gentleness he did not know he possess.
Legolas stirred. His eyes lost their previously vacant look that they held and was replaced by one of recognition. And great confusion.
'Gimli?'
Gimli smiled. 'Yes, it's me elf. Are you all right?'
Legolas nodded. 'What happened?'
'Well, I was just about to ask you the very exact question, my friend.'
Legolas though did not felt like explaining. He did not remember when sleep had laid claim upon him. He must have exhausted himself from grieving.
'What is the time now?' Legolas asked.
'I figured that it is almost 8 o'clock in the morning of the second day of March,' answered Gimli.
'How did you find me?' asked Legolas as he stood up and dusted his raiment.
'It was not hard elf. Why did you choose to sleep here Legolas? And without informing me too! You had me worried when I woke up and found that you are all but missing without as much as a message,' said Gimli.
Legolas did not look to him as he answered. 'Forgive me Gimli, I meant not to worry you. But I cannot find any peace in the city my friend, said Legolas. 'Nor can I find them here,' he added softly.
Gimli eyed his friend with critical eyes. 'The sea calls to you again,' Gimli said.
Legolas nodded slowly, his gaze still refused to meet Gimli's.
'I aer cad enni ui,' Legolas whispered softly. The words were not meant for Gimli to hear. But the dwarf did heard nonetheless.
It is at times like this that Gimli regretted not learning the elven language.
'Legolas, you know I don't understand any other word of elvish except maybe 'elvellon' and mellon (thanks to Moria), so could you please repeat what you have just said in the common tongue, if you don't mind,' said Gimli patiently.
Legolas was caught off-guard by the dwarf's sudden politeness and for the first time that morning he turned to look Gimli in the eye although his expression was unreadable to the dwarf.
'Forgive me Gimli. I intended no offence,' he said quietly, taking his gaze elsewhere again towards the horizon. He opened his mouth again to speak but the words did not come for his breath was caught in his throat as he saw a flock of white birds flying over the horizon. Their wailings, pierced the stillness of the morning air and pierced also the heart of the elf. For indeed they were gulls. The birds that spoke of the wide sea in their unceasing wailing of the crashes of waves upon the shore and white sand upon beaches.
And Legolas deep longing was stirred as it never had been. Gimli felt as if a tide of sorrow had come crashing down upon him as he looked at the mesmerised gaze of his friend. Legolas would soon leave him. The call of the sea had won. 'Better this way,' thought Gimli, 'than before the elf stood upon another grave.' He knew that the grief would kill Legolas then and his friend does not deserve that.
'We are all that's left of the Fellowship, Gimli,' said Legolas at length. Gimli had no answer to the statement. When his time comes, he too would have to go and then Legolas would be truly alone. The thought scared Gimli. They were silent.
'The sea calls me always my friend,' Legolas whispered after a while.
'Then you should answer them calls,' said Gimli loyally. 'You had eluded them for far too long already, my friend.'
Legolas turned to look upon him and sadness was in his glance. 'But I cannot leave you Gimli,' he said softly.
Gimli snorted to hide his own melancholy. He hated it when the elf was in one of these moods. He liked it even lesser when he himself was being affected by it.
'Better do it soon, while I can still bid you farewell. I doubt that it would mean anything to me when I'm deep under the earth,' said Gimli. 'And that ring you hold. You have promised the lady to bear it across the sea.
Legolas was fingering the precious ring and did not answer. They were silent again as time stretches and Gimli's stomach was again beginning to get impatient.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, Legolas turned towards Gimli again and this time strangely, there was joy in his glance.
'What?' Gimli asked.
'Gimli, whom is it to you is the fairest Lady in the whole of Arda?' Legolas asked as if he is in a game of riddles.
Gimli looked at Legolas as if the elf had suddenly grown two heads. 'What?'
'You heard me the first time my friend,' said Legolas.
Gimli knew the answer to Legolas's questions at once for she had always held his heart. A vision of enchanting loveliness entered the thoughts of Gimli. He had often thought of her in his waking existence and often she had graced his dreams with her beautiful presence. Gimli would never forget the sparkle of elven eyes turned towards him with kindness and understanding in the glance or the sound of her voice like the clear ringing of wind chimes, soothing his soul. 'None other can surpass the beauty of the Lady Galadriel, the loveliest of ladies upon Earth,' said Gimli as he felt a soft blush spreading across his cheeks. Legolas just smiled. The elf had long known the answer.
'Do you still carry her gift with you my friend?' asked Legolas.
'Aye, I carry it with me always,' answered Gimli. And truthfully, three locks of golden hair were indeed tucked neatly inside Gimli's tunic, near his heart. He had at first plan to keep it safe upon a golden cushion in a glass case as an heirloom of his house, but he found his thoughts often strayed to them when he was away. Therefore, the locks of hair had since found their residence closest to the dwarf's heart.
'But it would never be the same as setting eyes upon her beauty again, will it?' Legolas continued softly.
'Nay-.where are you getting at elf? Be swift with it for my belly grows impatient,' Gimli growled, cursing the 'strange elven behaviours' more so than usual that day.
'If you have a chance to return the gift back to the owner, would you do it, Gimli?' said Legolas.
'I would,' Gimli answered, when suddenly understanding dawned upon him about what the elf is trying to imply. 'Do not offer what is not yours to give, Legolas,' he warned.
'If you were to come with me my friend, then you could,' Legolas said.
'But no dwarf had ever been allowed to that place. Furthermore, I doubt that the lady even remembers me,' Gimli reasoned. In truth, it was an offer too good to be true to Gimli. But he knew that the grace was difficult to obtain and he dared not hope too much upon it.
'Then you are wrong, Gimli. She always held you in her thoughts just as you always held her gift in you heart. Come with me Gimli. I would plead for you on my knees in front of Iluvatar himself if need be. But I think not. Even among my own people, you are renowned for your brave deeds, my friend.'
Gimli hesitated. How do you plan to journey to the Blessed Realm?'
A ship I will build in Ithilien. A grey ship that will sail away to the West and never to return. Please Gimli, I bid you come with me,' Legolas was all but pleading. He knew that he would never leave without Gimli.
'I cannot give you my answer now. I need to think it over first,' said Gimli.
Now it was Legolas's turn to be patient. 'Then I will wait for your answer, my friend. But do not be too long in pondering them I beg,' said the elf.
'A month later'.
The elf-lord of South Ithilien had given up his realm to answer at last the call of the sea that he had so long been denying. With him it is said, went also his great friend, the dwarf-lord of Aglarond. They brought along with them a token that symbolises all the deeds of the lost ages. Neither to the greenwood nor to the glittering caves did the two friends walked evermore. The grey sail of the elven ship was a glorious sight to behold as it sailed away from Middle-earth in the early morning. And when the sight of white shores and beyond them a far green country spilt in sunlight greeted the ship, two hearts finally found their peace.
The End.
'And when that ship passed, an end is come upon middle-earth of the Fellowship of the Ring.'
J.R.R. Tolkien
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