TO SPEAK WITH ONE'S HANDS

Sign Language

Perched high in the branches of a great, ancient oak tree, Legolas stared silently down at his hands. In his right, he was fingering a gold-tipped arrow- the one his father had given him when he had lead his first group of solders to battle and had emerged victorious. So many memories… he mentally counted the four nicks in the point. He knew exactly when each one had occurred, why, and how. He stared motionless down at the third nick. It was near the tip of the arrow. No one else could understand what every little detail in this arrow could mean to him. It was the closest, most personal thing to him.

Looking next to him, he looked at his wrist guards he had removed. Then, putting aside the arrow in the safety of his quiver, he pulled back the sleeve of his left arm. To mortal eyes, it would have appeared to be a normal patch of skin on the wrist. But Legolas knew better. To his elven eyes, he could see the long, white scars. To him, they were twisted and entwined in terrible forms. Flashes of darkness and despair clawed at his mind, and he closed his eyes momentarily.

There was the soft sound of leaves being disturbed somewhere below, and Legolas pulled his sleeves back down, replaced his wristbands and leaned back against the main trunk of the tree. "Legolas?" the words came from below him, on the ground. He remained motionless as Aragorn climbed the tree quickly. Pulling himself up onto the branch next to Legolas, Aragorn surveyed him carefully.

"Are you well?" Aragorn asked in the sign Language that Legolas used to communicate.

"I'm fine." Legolas replied.

"I apologise, I should have told the rest of the fellowship why you didn't speak to them."

Legolas turned to look out at the forest around him, forcing Aragorn to end the conversation.

"Legolas, they are going to want an explanation."

"I know."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Legolas suddenly stood up amongst the branches and picking up his quiver, jumped lightly down from branch to branch, reaching the ground. Aragorn followed. An unspoken agreement formed between them as they made their way back to the fellowship.

They found the fellowship in disarray, Boromir and Gimli were having a heated argument with Gandalf, leaving the hobbits to watch fearfully from a distance behind some rocks.

"Elrond always have a reason for his actions, it is not your place to question his judgement," Gandalf was saying loudly, brandishing his knobbly staff, "a warrior's strength does not always lie in his words."

"Gandalf, we cannot have someone in this fellowship who can't communicate to his companions when the time is dire."

"I agree." said Gimli stoutly. "What kind of elf doesn't speak to his comrades anyway?"

"Because he can't-" Gandalf started, but was interrupted by the entrance of Aragorn and Legolas.

The fellowship was silent. Aragorn looked hastily at Gandalf who merely shrugged wearily. Legolas held himself proudly, but there was something vulnerable about him- something weaker. He avoided eye contact with any of them, and sat down by a cluster of bushes, taking out a small knife and sharpening one of his arrows carefully.

"Legolas is one of the best archers in Middle Earth. It is very rare for him to miss a target and the fact that he is unable speak the same way as we do doesn't mean that he is unable to do so in his own manner."

"Then why do you speak for him? Why does he not he confront us himself." Boromir snapped.

"Perhaps, because your stupidity prevents you from understanding conversation more intelligent then your own."

"Exactly, my point Legolas!" Aragorn said pointing at his friend.

The Fellowship turned to see Legolas making hand signs which Aragorn seemed to understand.

"See this is exactly my point you two are having your own little conversation which the rest of us can't understand." Boromir complained.

"Well why does it matter? Even if I could talk we would still talk in elvish not you monotonous common tongue." Legolas signed to the man even though he couldn't understand.

"Legolas! Don't be rude. That's my language too."

"No offence intended Aragorn but you must admit that elvish is a much smoother language to speak."

"What are they saying?" Pippin asked Gandalf.

"They are arguing about which language is the better, common or elvish." Gandalf supplied.

"Well personally I think that common is easier to speak but elvish is much kinder on the ears, If you ask me." Sam said scratching his head.

"Thank you." Legolas signed to the Hobbit.

"What did he say?" Sam asked Aragorn.

"He was thanking you for agreeing with him."

"Oh well I'm glad to be of assistance." Sam said, the tips of his ears turning slightly pink with embarrassment.

"Alright we can't have you all asking me every time you want to know what Legolas is saying so why don't we teach you some words of his language?"

"Why doesn't he just keep to himself then we won't have to bother." Gimli snapped.

"Aragorn can you translate for me please?"

"Legolas has asked me to translate what he is saying for him."

"I'm sure both of you have been in battle before and you have used hand signes to show your intentions to your fellow soldiers but if your enemy finds out the meaning of these signs then you're lost. The Mirkwood armies have found a different system thanks to my disability. Orcs have small minds and can't process many things around them so if we make it so what we say to each other sounds like the birds and animals of the forest around us. That way we have them jumping at any and every sound around them and can take them by surprise. I command 10 battalions in the Mirkwood royal army and my being unable to talk to them doesn't change anything. Half of them don't even know my language but they all respect me for who I am. Some even more because of it. So I suggest that you respect me too or you may find yourself regretting it later." Legolas then returned to where he had been sitting and continued to sharpen his arrows.

"Is that a threat elf?" Gimli asked menacingly.

Legolas nodded calmly and continued what he was doing without looking up.

Gimli approached Legolas with a snarl, and advanced towards him with his axe held high. Legolas rolled out of the way and then jumped up nimbly to defend himself with his twin elven knifes. Both faced each other momentarily, and then lunged at each other. Gimli rumbled forwards, swinging his great axe madly, and roaring like a lion. Legolas stepped lightly out of the way, seeming untroubled.

"Shouldn't we stop them?" Frodo asked nervously.

"No they need to over come their differences, else they come up during a time when we are taken up surprise by the enemy." Gandalf replied tiredly. "Honestly, the differences between them… he really should know better."

Frodo wasn't entirely sure which one Gandalf meant.

"Also Legolas is very sensitive about fighting his own battles." Aragorn put in. "As is Gimli. Together, on the same side, they certainly could be a force to be reckoned with."

Boromir looked at Aragorn incredulously. "They are both fools," he said knowingly, "why, they are more than a match for each other; I fear we may lose more than one fellowship member in this brawl."

Gimli and Legolas continued their fight, the hobbits having to scatter a few times to get out of the way of the battling pair. Pippin nearly got impaled on the end of Gimli's axe handle, and Merry and Sam had to push him out the way. Frodo remained silent. He had a strong desire to escape from his responsibilities all of a sudden, and was fighting the idea of putting on the ring and disappearing.

But the fight didn't last long as Legolas had more experience and was able to out manoeuvre Gimli and managed to make Gimli drop his axe, using that moment to put his knives at Gimli's throat. Gimli growled in rage.

Legolas looked firmly at the Dwarf then made a few clicks and whistles with his tongue which Aragorn translated.

"He asked if you yield."

The dwarf glared at Legolas before nodding discretely, but Legolas wouldn't move.

"He wants you to say it." Aragorn supplied.

"I yield." Gimli said through gritted teeth.

Legolas seemed to accept this and drew his knives back from the Dwarf's throat, allowing Gimli to get back to his feet clumsily. Legolas retrieved the axe from it's position, embedded in a tree trunk nearby. The dwarf looked like he wanted a rematch, but gruffly nodded as he was handed his precious weapon. Elf and Dwarf faced each other for a moment, before Legolas made more movement with his hands which Aragorn hastily translated:

"I have fought many battles for many years. I was fighting wars and enemies long before you were born. Do not overlook my age by my appearance; I am an experienced fighter; even if a part of my life was lost to… other things." Here, Legolas' hands faltered, and for a moment he seemed lost in thought.

Gimli looked at the elf but, seemingly with a new found respect.