And chapter two commences! First, I must say that I was pleasantly surprised, not to mention blown away, by Return of the King (I am still awe-struck by the Ride of the Rohirrim) so it took me a long time to finally get my head down and write this, not to mention several work-based complications. But everything is okay now!

Disclaimer: Everything here that you recognize from Tolkien's works, including places, names, and characters, are not mine, as I wouldn't have a clue what to do with them. Torfi, however, is mine, and is making a comeback from my first ever story 'Worth More Than Riches'. I do recommend that you read that first though it is not, of course, essential.

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"To be loved by a horse, or by any animal, should fill us with awe- for we have not deserved it."

~Marion. C. Garretty~

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"Gimli? Gimli!" the insistent voice filtered through the Dwarf's subconscious and dragged him from the peaceful realm of sleep. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but ignored both that and the voice, hoping that doing so would persuade both to leave him alone.

No such luck. "Gimli!" This time the hand shook his shoulder, moved to his thick mahogany hair and gave it a sharp tug. Gimli gave an involuntary yelp.

"Legolas! Wha-? Leave me 'lone…" he grumbled, pulling away from the Elf and lying back down with his back to him.

"No!" Legolas laughed, grabbing hold of Gimli's hair again and pulling the Dwarf's head round to face him. The glare in Gimli's large, dark eyes would have made a Balrog pause for thought; but not Legolas. Gimli realized that the Elf wouldn't be put off so, sitting up, he rubbed his eyes, grumbling under his breath in Khuzdul about fool elves who did not respect the needs of others for rest.

"What time do you call this?" he exclaimed, glancing out of the window at a dark sky and thin sliver of moon. "Legolas, I am tired! Why are you waking me?"

"My apologies," the Elf said, satisfied that Gimli was not going back to sleep. "But there is something that I want you to see." He threw Gimli the tunic he had cast off last night before collapsing in bed, exhausted. Sighing, he tossed back the covers of his warm, comfortable bed and pulled his tunic on over the breeches he had neglected to remove.

"What is it you wanted to show me?" he mumbled, following Legolas from the room after pulling on his boots, trying to tie his long hair back with fumbling fingers made clumsy with sleep.

"You shall see," Legolas replied, giving Gimli a mysterious smile. Gimli harrumphed impatiently.

"Look, if you are going to insist on waking me when I wish for sleep after several days of travel, the least you could do is give me the courtesy of a reason!"

The Elf did not reply, and Gimli was forced to fall silent as they walked through the halls of Meduseld, the Golden Hall of Edoras, the capital city of Rohan. The Dwarf flinched slightly when he realized how much noise his heavy tread made in comparison to Legolas' silent step, Ironic, he thought with a humourless smile, since I am definitely the least talkative of us. This was true. Gimli was not antisocial by nature, but he preferred to talk little, taking in everything around him, and could often be said to be reserved. 

Legolas led Gimli outside, and the crisp, cold night air made the Dwarf catch his breath. It was a clear night; the clouds that had spilled rain over the country had long since rolled away to the North, leaving the sky clear for the stars and thin moon. Together, Elf and Dwarf walked down the steps leading to the Golden Hall, and made their way down the track to the barn. Gimli's curiosity re-doubled- why were they paying such a late visit to the horses? Surely the Elf saw enough of the beasts?

In the main barn, several horses' heads were peering over their doors, their ears flickering inquisitively, their eyes glimmering eerily in the darkness. There were faint rustles of straw and creaks of joints as the horses fidgeted. A faint light came from the very end box, and it was this that Legolas made for. Gimli paused for a moment to look in on Torfi; the little pony was lying flat out in the straw, fast asleep. Occasionally one of his legs would twitch, as though he were dreaming. "Lucky creature," Gimli muttered, feeling envious that his tired pony was being allowed his hard-earned rest.

"Gimli," Legolas whispered, taking his friend's arm. "Come!"

In the end box, Éomer was kneeling in the straw beside a large, bay mare, one hand resting on her swollen, sweat-soaked belly, speaking soft words to her. Her nostrils were flared, her neck strained. Hafoc, a young Rider, was spreading clean straw around the pregnant mare, then he dropped to his knees by her head, caressing it and speaking softly to her.

"It's coming," Éomer muttered, moving round behind the mare, lifting her bandaged tail out of the way. "That's it, Brytta, good girl. You're doing well!"

Legolas put a hand on Gimli's shoulder, and the Dwarf could feel it shaking in excitement. He smiled slightly, acknowledging the strange twisting sensation in his stomach, realizing that he too was excited about the birth of Brytta's foal. Éomer moved back, his hands gripping two very small hooves, which were followed by slender front-legs. Soon, the newborn foal was lying on the straw, taking its first deep breaths of air, struggling free of the birth-sac.

"Oh, my!" Legolas gasped, his grip on Gimli's shoulder tightening. Gimli said nothing, just stared in wonder at the small creature.

"Black!" Hafoc breathed, his blue eyes burning with joy. "A little black colt!"

Éomer wiped his forehead on the back of his hand, before bending over the colt, who was trying to struggle to his feet. He rested his hands over the colt's skinny belly, and turned to Hafoc. "Hold Brytta's head," he told him. "Just for a few minutes, whilst I work with this lad."

Hafoc slowly climbed to his feet, and moved to take hold of Brytta's halter as the mare scrambled upright, turning her head to look at her foal. Éomer held the foal down, gently but firmly, as the small creature struggled to rise, rubbing his head and neck. Gimli heard Legolas' intake of breath, and knew that the Elf did not like what he was seeing.

"The idea is that he accepts me straight away," Éomer said as he rubbed the foal's withers with his fingers. "He trusts me, so when I come to break him later on, he knows I mean no harm, and he won't fight it. See? He knows I'm dominating him, and he's accepting it."

It was true; the foal lay quiet beneath Éomer's touch, watching the man with wide eyes. Gimli glanced up at the tall figure of Legolas; though the Elf's face was shadowed, Gimli could see him frowning. Eventually, Éomer stepped back and stood up, allowing the foal to stand up, wobbling slightly on his stick-like legs as he made his way over to his mother to feed. Legolas breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well," Éomer turned to the Elf and Dwarf with a smile on his face, "that went well, did it not? He will be a fine animal. Look at him- when he fills out he'll have a good deep chest, clean limbs…" he broke off, gazing with pride at the latest addition to the horses of Rohan. Legolas and Gimli exchanged looks, and quietly left the barn.

When they were outside, Legolas stopped and took a breath of air. Gimli paused, looking at him. He wanted to know what was wrong with the Elf, but he was not about to press him for answers. Legolas would tell him in his own time.

Sure enough, instead of making his way towards Edoras, Legolas went to the crest of the hill on which Edoras stood. Looking out across the dark fields of Rohan, which stretched away to the edge of mortal sight, he waited for Gimli to come and stand beside him before speaking:

"I did not like that, Gimli," he said simply.

"I know you did not," Gimli answered. When the Elf did not reply, Gimli continued. "May I inquire as to why?"

"I… I know not." Legolas sat down, crossing his long legs in front of him. "It was not natural, I suppose. Not natural to come between a mare and her foal."

"I see," Gimli sat down beside his friend, looking up at the stars, which glimmered in the deep, infinite sky above their heads.

Legolas could tell that Gimli was not in a talkative mood. He wanted to know what was on his mind, but he was not going to press for information. For a fleeting moment, Legolas felt guilty for rousing his tired friend; after all, Gimli had only arrived in Edoras that afternoon. Still, the Dwarf would have been most disgruntled had he missed the birth of the little black colt.

"I think Éomer should have allowed Brytta and her foal to bond first," he said eventually. "I believe that the bond between mare and foal is more important at this time than the bond between Éomer and foal."

"You heard what Éomer said though," Gimli murmured. "It is meant to make it easier for the foal when he comes to break him."

"Break!" Legolas echoed, distaste etched on his fair features. "I do not like that word. A horse is persuaded, taught, not broken."

"Alright then," Despite himself, Gimli smiled. "When he comes to teach the colt it will be far easier, will it not, if the colt already trusts him, as opposed to being fearful?"

"I- yes, I see your point." Legolas sighed again, and pushed his hair back behind his ear. "But he came between Brytta and the foal, and to me it was not natural."

"Natural!" It was Gimli's turn to echo his friend. "But Legolas, what is natural? Surely saddling a horse, taming him to bit and bridle, fastening a saddle to his back and cooping him into a wooden stable is not natural? Do you think that sitting astride a horse's back and asking him to move hither and thither at your will and not his is natural?"

There was a long pause, and then Legolas laughed. "You become more Elvish everyday, my friend!" he exclaimed. Then he sobered. "I understand what you are saying though. Still, I do not have a good feeling about this."

"That is what you said about me," Gimli replied, trying to raise the Elf's spirits. "I turned out to be alright, did I not?" He chuckled at the Elf's raised eyebrow. "Come, my friend, think about it! Have you ever seen Éomer do anything that was not to the entire good of his horses? Have you ever witnessed anyone from Rohan showing anything short of utmost kindness and respect to their beasts?"

Legolas looked at the Dwarf, and smiled. "I am over-reacting, then? Is that what you are saying?"

Gimli stood up and turned to return to Meduseld. "Nay. I am saying that you are letting your heart rule your head once again. Now come, you can stay here and gaze at the stars all night if you will, but I feel the need for sleep." With that, the Dwarf made his way back up the path. Legolas watched him go, a small smile on his lips.

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A few notes on this chapter:

The method Éomer was using is called imprinting, and it is an actual method of bonding with newborn foals. It is not cruel; so don't get the wrong idea! I have used it, and it has worked well, and now they are older they trust me more than anything else. However, there can be dangers if the mare is not a good mother. I am writing Gimli as my impression of him from the books, and my impression was that Gimli was a fairly quiet character- not antisocial, just quiet and reserved. He begins to open up as the story progresses and when he befriends Legolas, but to me he never really seems to talk until he finds something to loosen his tongue (I'm thinking Glittering Caves). If my Gimli isn't how you see him, then I'm sorry, but I'm not sticking with the stereotypical Dwarf. The names of the horses and people of Rohan, which are not recognizable from Tolkien's works, are taken straight from Old English. I would really like a beta reader, so if someone with an excellent grasp of the English language and grammar would like to offer their services, I would be extremely grateful.

Thanks so much for reading, and please review!

~Shieldmaiden~