3) Of Aragorn

"He fell." He feared the end had come for him - despite his promises - as Gimli uttered those two words. He had been strong on the short ride to Helm's Deep, though he knew Gimli must have felt the shudders that wracked his body, signs of the grief that he couldn't hold back. He dismounted as quickly as possible, near knocking over the stable hand who had taken Arod's bridle as he went and followed the King into a large chamber, feeling his shaking increase in frequency as he moved into the vaulted halls of stone. Almost immediately he moved out again, to Théoden's confusion as he watched the elf stumble, racing from the room. Gimli walked in a moment later, having explained as best he could to Lady Éowyn the circumstances behind Aragorn's demise. The King took him aside in curiosity.

"I have never seen an elf stumble, nor heard of such a thing. Does Legolas sicken? Does something in my halls offend him so?" Gimli's eyes widened at the question, realising what this meant for the elf. Though Gandalf had been returned to them, Aragorn now was lost.

"Where did he go, Lord?" He asked brusquely.

"I know not, only that he left this hall in a hurry." Helm's Deep was a large place, Gimli knew, though he had only caught a glimpse of its full size from around the elf's back as they rode in. He could see no sign of Legolas from the doorway of the hall and all those around him were too busy in themselves to see anyone else. Trying desperately to think like an elf, Gimli decided to move away from the huge stone buildings and into the courtyards. There was very little greenery within the walls, and no trees at all, so Gimli's first idea was crushed. Spotting a man bathing a wound on a horse's leg, inspiration struck and he asked for directions to the stables.

The stables were still busy as the stable hands soothed the restless horses, calming them so that they could be cleaned, tended to and left in peace. The dwarf was given several long glances as he entered the stable and at last a boy came to him and pointed silently at the last stall in the huge hall that houses the horses of the Mark. The stall seemed empty as he approached, no equine face over the door or movement within. It seemed to exude quietness and calm. Even the horses around this stall seemed calmer than the rest. He found he was not tall enough to look over the door as he might have wished and so he reached for the bolt uncertainly. Almost as soon as the door was open the horse inside, which had been lain on the ground, got clumsily to its feet and walked over to him. He recognised Arod and reached up to stroke the nose of his and Legolas' mount, ready to thank the stable hand, but explain that it was not his horse that he was searching for, but his riding companion. He was knocked on his back as Arod's nose hit him solidly in the chest and the horse pulled the door back behind him, returning to the ground. Hurumphing, Gimli got back to his feet and dusted himself off.

"He has done that to all of the stable hands today, since the elf went to sit with him." A young man explained to him as he helped him off the ground. "We thought he might let you in since you are one of his company."

"The elf is inside there?"

"Yes, he came almost as soon as Arod was brought in and untacked. Arod is a horse of Rohan, we have never seen him behave like this before. We can only assume it is the elf's influence."

"I see." He nodded thoughtfully. "Clearly you're a helpful lad, would you mind just kneeling down there for a moment

Gimli landed heavily on the hay inside the stable. With the door still shut behind him there was little the horse would be able to do to expel him. That only left Legolas, but something in him was warning that the last thing the elf needed was to be alone at this moment. The elven weapons lay to one side inside the stall, Aragorn's pendant hanging from the top of the Lothlórien bow.

He steeled himself and moved over to where the horse lay quiet. An intelligent face turned towards him and he was sure he saw the horse smile. His master may have told him that no one was to come in the door, but over it was a different matter. Casually the horse shifted a little and a second figure was revealed, curled into the horse's side as though taking warmth from the animal. Looking at the shivers that wracked the lithe frame he wondered if that was precisely what he was doing.

"Master Elf." He greeted, trying to put his customary humour into the greeting, and not feeling a moment of it. Legolas jumped, which made Gimli jump because never before had he been able to sneak up on the elf, and he had assumed he was being ignored.

"Gimli, it is you." Suddenly Gimli could no longer find words. The voice that had spoken to him was not that of the elven-kind, full of bells and joy. It had almost been a human's voice, rough with wear and toil. And young. So young he sounded in that moment, the dwarf was moved near to tears himself. He moved instead to Legolas' side, kneeling before him with his head bowed. The elf had taken the plaits from his hair and it fell in a curtain around his face, waving slightly where the hair still fell into the shape of the plaits. Here and there were white hairs from the horse and a piece of hay or two. Compared to the elf's usual composed and reserved appearance, he looked well and truly ruffled.

"I think you startled the King with such a sudden exit. He fears he may have offended you in some way."

"I simply could not be within those cold dead walls a moment longer." The reply came, softly.

"I myself suffer greatly for the loss of Aragorn. I was in need of company."

"Why, then, did you not stay in Théoden's halls?"

"I felt that you might need company also. And yet you sought solitude."

"The horses are company enough."

"You seek to hide your weakness from us, and in that make yourself weaker."

"My sorrow for Aragorn is no weakness." Never would he become accustomed to the new harshness he could hear in the elf's voice as he snapped his reply.

"True enough. But your grief is. It is debilitating for you, and I fear I know not what I can do to help." The façade broke for a moment.

"It is as my father told me, I was not ready for war. I could not cope with the grief of losing my fellows, and it has struck me down. I am skilled but have not the control over my own emotions. I am still a child."

"There is no shame in that. There is no shame in emotion."

"For an elf there is shame. Shame and death."

"You will not die while I still live, princeling. I shall not allow it. Who would I have to compete with? Aragorn has no humour, Gandalf is much too stiff. The hobbits would gang up on me and then I would be lost. Who then but you? Nay, I cannot let you pass." The slightest glimmer of a smile and Legolas glanced up at him, showing him but for a moment the sheen of tears in his eyes. Elves did not cry, Gimli frowned. Only the Peredhil - the half-elven - amongst the elven races were known to show such emotion freely. Perhaps this situation was more serious that he had warranted. He wished for the council of Aragorn or Gandalf. Either would know what to do in such a situation, but Gandalf had ridden for help, and Aragorn could no longer help any of them. He was damned if he was going to let the elf die just because he was the only one around to help him. After seeing and hearing the state the elf was in, his death from such an affliction didn't seem so impossible.

"Your companion rides to the gates!" A face had appeared at the stable door and at his news both leapt to their feet.

"Alive!?" Legolas demanded. Was that the ringing of bells Gimli could hear? Or his imagination leading him on

"Brego brings him back to us. He will be inside by now."

"We must go to him." Legolas told Gimli forcefully. Definitely bells. The dwarf smiled.

"You must get the hay out of your hair, Master Elf. Else he think we have been doing more than talking down here." Gimli joked, his spirit lightened. "I will meet Aragorn. You must return his pendant to him away from the crowds."

"Hannon le, Gimli." He bowed lightly. "For your company."