Gimli's POV
For some reason I felt indebted to Gandalf. He was responsible for more-or-less keeping my father safe when he was on the quest to regain our treasure from that blasted dragon Smaug. I also was fairly confident that it was the wizard's presence that had prevented my dislike for the Elf of our company from spilling over to anything more than a few insults, mainly on the Elf's part of course.
The emotional ride that I had just been on was not something I wished to repeat any time soon.
I had been pleased when it was decided that the company would go through Moria (I do not like snow!) I was proud that I could show off some of my culture. I was then distressed to find Moria abandoned and Balin dead, angry that Orcs still dwelt in Moria. Pleasure had coursed through me as I swung my axe at every available Orc.
I then felt terror as the Balrog appeared and as I watched Gandalf stand and fight. I was relieved when it had fallen and then an emotion that I did not want to feel again but one that was going to become more frequent.
Grief.
I stood on Dimrill Dale fighting with everything I had to return to Moria but Boromir would not let me go. I didn't even know what I was fighting to get back to.
Eventually the Man had turned me round and let me go. I sank to my knees and began to mutter blessings for the dead under me breath. I felt my eyes begin to sting and I blinked. Tears began to slow down my cheeks and mingled with my beard.
The soft voice of the Elf broke into my thoughts and I felt a rush of anger. Why did he not sound more upset? Did he not realise that Gandalf would never return?
Then I felt sorry for him. While he was nearly three thousand years old the one thing he would probably never understand was death.
I continued to watch as Boromir stood up. He looked nothing short of murderous.
"Let them rest!" he shot at Aragorn. Subconsciously I felt my hand wrap around the handle of my axe and I readied myself to interrupt a fight if necessary. Was having these two in the company together a good idea? Contention had bred between them since Elrond's council.
When Aragorn turned away I realised that Legolas was standing beside me, still looking confused and lost. I took hold of the hand he offered to me.
He searched my face as though looking for some explanation. Obviously finding none, he turned back to the Doors of Moria.
Gandalf what are we to do without you? Didn't you realise you are the stitching that held us together?