Disclaimer:  None's mine, I don't exactly look like Tolkien or any relative of his…

Given the complaints I received at the start of this fic let's go over the medical disclaimer again I am not a medical professional, nor do I ever intend to become one, therefore any medical concepts described should not be tried at home then again, if that appeals to you go right ahead, I suppose it would really be 'letting nature take its course' and also there is only as much realism as far as my knowledge extends.  My goal is to produce a well-written story not a medical textbook. 

There now that that is over with, enjoy…

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Unaware of Inara's action Gimli gasped, nearly losing his grip on his weapon, but he brought it up again Gimli, deflecting the rain of blows, the grim look on his face seemed to be set in stone.  At last he brought the blade down at an angle he swung the weighted end snapping it back at the last second and thrusting it up, landing a solid blow upon his opponent's head, knocking him to the ground. 

Legolas grabbed Inara's arm, holding her back.  This was a battle Gimli alone could fight, though it tore at his heart to allow him to do so alone.  He would intercede though should this go to far, but he saw the light of rage in the dwarf's eyes.  The Lord's insults to Marja and to Inara, and his slights to both Legolas and Gimli had been something the dwarf had found difficult to ignore, one reason why he had insisted he take the challenge, but such an injury from a practice sword unfairly sharpened the dwarf could not accept without retaliation. 

Gimli pressed his staff down upon his Lordship's chest, closing his eyes as he wavered.  The blood from the wound was slick against his skin.  How a single stroke from a practice blade could have done so much damage he could not imagine. 

"The round… is mine."  Gimli struggled to regain his breath, the duel had not been over long but it had been difficult. 

He was relieved when Inara took his arm to support him.  Legolas came to his other side, judging by the elf's grip on his arm it was taking him a great deal of effort to restrain himself from killing the Lord on the spot. 

                Gimli held tightly to his friend's supporting arm, "Not now Legolas!"  His voice was hoarse in the elf's ears, but it broke the elf's concentration.  He wavered a moment more, his hand clutching the knife at his waist. 

                He pulled it from its sheath and was on the ground, kneeling at the fallen Lord's side, the blade pressed to his throat. 

                "Now, son of men, you shall taste elven steel."  Gimli could see the muscles in his back tense to deliver the death stroke, but he could not get his limbs to move to intervene. 

                "Legolas!"  Inara had heard the scrape of a drawn blade and heard the elf's words.  She reached out, miraculously catching the elf's fist where he held the blade, trying to wrest it from him, "We cannot shed the blood of men, dishonorable or no within his home.  Let the King decide where honor stands." 

                Legolas easily tore the blade from her grip, turning it back upon the man at his feet.  Inara gasped, as she was nearly knocked aside.  Instead she reached out again, desperately searching for the elf's hand, this time though she missed, her hand closing upon the blade of the knife. 

                Her cry and the red blood that dripped down the hilt of his weapon startled Legolas from his battle rage. 

                "Inara!"  Gimli's voice rang with panic, a tone that had not been there during the bout, not even following his injury. 

                "Inara!  I did not mean…!"  Legolas dropped the knife to the ground, his head hung in shame.  He had allowed Gimli to be injured and now he had harmed Inara, one who deserved his aid, not to be wounded by his hand.

                Inara gripped her bleeding hand tightly, but released it to reach out to the elf, gripping his hand tightly.  Legolas nearly pulled away for he could feel the blood that had covered her hand that now stained his, but he didn't move. 

                "It is not your fault my elven friend, could it have helped, I would have done the same.  But now is not the time for vengeance.  Let us instead help Gimli, we will need the assistance of this Lord's household for that." 

                Legolas nodded, but couldn't completely remove himself from the shame he felt.  He felt another come to his side.  

                Gimli held his breath as he carefully limped forward; he did not wish to lose consciousness, as there was no telling what the fool elf would do then. 

                "It is all right lad, I appreciate the thought."  He wavered slightly, having to catch himself on the elf.  This at last broke through the last of the numbness that held the elf prisoner. 

                Legolas looked down for a moment.  Finally he settled for turning his back on the Lord, "I cannot promise much my friend, for he has injured you gravely and dishonorably, that was no practice blade he used.  If he should ever come within my sight again, I shall not hesitate."  The elf's voice was cold. 

                He reached to support the dwarf when his second shock of the day came.  Lady Marja stood in the doorway, her hands folded demurely before her.  She raised one gesturing the servants standing on either side of her forward.  Two came bearing a stretcher of sorts and the other knelt at his Lord's side. 

                Gimli snorted as the two offered him the stretcher, " I thank you my lady, but the wound is not so grievous as I would require that." 

                "As you say Master dwarf, but my husband and I must pay for the harm we have caused.  Please, accept our help." 

                Gimli glanced to Inara, she was nodding her head.  Legolas did not even look up, still fighting his own internal battle with his shame and outrage. 

                "Thank you, madam, we will accept your offer.  Now if you will give us leave…"  He nodded his head to her, not daring to even attempt a bow as the consequences would in all probability be extraordinarily embarrassing. 

                "Hold Gimli," Inara eased her uninjured hand under his arm, Legolas still supporting the dwarf on the other side.  "At the pace you mean to take you will never make it back, and I would hate for Legolas to have to carry you." 

                Gimli sputtered wordlessly, and his obvious consternation managed to bring a smile to even Legolas' cold face.  The three made their way slowly from the courtyard.  Not wishing to cause any further conflict by addressing the Lord who obviously held honor at such a low regard. 

                Marja watched them go, before turning to the man she had married, the man who was now Lord of the hall, "I have not spoken against you before but if you continue in such a manner you will force my hand and you will not like what will come." 

                The servant who had helped his Lordship to his feet cowered away, knowing what would inevitably follow.  The two faced either across the practice courtyard.  His Lordship discreetly checked his wife for weapons, and her eyes did the same. 

                He smiled in the way that was his wont, stepping before her, his hand trailing a wisp of her hair through his fingers.  Their gaze never wavered, not even when he pulled the same hand back to strike her. 

                Marja caught his fist, just before her face, forcing it down.  His face grew cold, and he pulled her to him, "Why can you not accept it?  Your father arranged our marriage so you might have something different than the long slow death that was his life!" 

                Marja whispered back, "Because it is this tradition it is this duty of my Hall that keeps alive the world that is dying.  There is no place for me in the world you seek to create there is no place for my line in this world.  Someone must remember the past or it shall take what you seek to build with it to the grave." 

                "Foolishness!"  the undercurrent of rage was easily heard in his quiet voice, "But no more my Lady, it is now my hall and you shall see the world I seek to build, perhaps then you will turn your eyes to the dawn rather than waiting for night to fall."  He released her, stalking into the building.  Marja let her head fall, one hand reaching up to finger the bruise he had left the night before. 

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                Gimli collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily.  Perhaps he should have swallowed his pride and allowed them to carry him.  It did not matter now.  Inara sat on the other bed, carefully wrapping her hand in one of the bandages Lady Marja's servant had provided.

                Legolas looked down at his friend, already pale from the pain of his injury and from the amount of blood he had lost.  With a sinking feeling the elf knew it would again be some time before they could resume their journey.  It was not a pleasant thought, as he would prefer to leave this place as soon as possible. 

                Instead he stood back, watching as the healer also provided by the Lady cleaned Gimli's wounds.  He would have preferred to watch the healer to insure that his friend was being cared for properly but he knew that would only embarrass the dwarf so he turned away, to help Inara instead. 

                Inara felt the elves hands on hers, unwrapping the clumsy bandage she had managed to tie about the gash running across her palm.  His movements were different from the elven grace she had come to expect from him.  They were hesitant as if burdened with shame from his loss of control in the courtyard. 

                Inara found she could not fault the elf with his rage, though hers was not nearly so cold.  It was almost enough to light the fire within her soul that had died so long ago.  But that would not help.  It would none of it; help Gimli, the dwarf who she did not understand consciously, yet there was something there, something that not even she could question. 

                "I am sorry Inara.  It was…  I am sorry." 

                Inara just shook her head, not wishing to be distracted, her ears straining to hear what was happening on the far side of the room.  The lack of protests frightened her.  She remembered the stubborn dwarf in her own cabin pushing aside any concern for his injuries.  His silence now scared her more than anything else could have. 

                Gimli gritted his teeth as the healer bandaged the deep wound.   His lordship was stronger than he looked to have driven his blade so deep for even unfairly sharpened it was still made of wood. 

                Perhaps that made it all the worse, he mused, and it felt as if the practice blade had left pieces of itself in the wound, but that of course could be his imagination.  The healer seemed no more skilled than a butcher.  It would have been better to have the elf stitch the wound closed, for all he couldn't sew a straight line. 

                The healer made a particular bad stitch, making Gimli gasp, this of course was followed with a roar. 

                The healer leapt back as the dwarf's eyes snapped open, "You clumsy son of an Orc!  I could do a better job with one hand!  The elf could do a better job!"  The healer crept even further back as it appeared for a moment as if his patient were going to rise and attack him. 

                But the blind woman who sat across the room called out to him, "Gimli!  Do not leave that bed, you will only tear your wound." 

                "Humph, someone needs to show that Orc-spawn how to properly stitch a wound." 

                "Sadly, that will not be me," Inara's smile was grim; she reached out, searching until she found the elf. 

                "Legolas can help though." 

                "Aye, help that idiot finish his work and costing me my leg!" 

                "Gimli."  Inara's tone stopped the dwarf's protests, and he subsided quietly.  Legolas watched in amazement.  In all his long years of life he had never seen such a miracle.  Not even Aragorn could bring such silence from the dwarf once Gimli had gotten started. 

                With the careful demonstration by Inara, sewing with imaginary thread, Legolas finished cleaning and binding his friend's injury; the healer having long since slipped away.  By the time he finished Gimli had slipped into a fitful sleep just on the edge of wakefulness. 

                He offered his hand to Inara, to lead her to her room, but the small, dark haired woman, shook her head. 

                "I will remain with him, please, Legolas."  The elf hesitated a moment made to leave the room, not sure what else to say to the woman who had risked so much for one of another race, one generally thought of as coarse and without honor among those of Middle Earth's other races. 

                As he left, Gimli muttered in his sleep, speaking the language of his people a language Legolas could not speak and something Legolas had rarely heard him do,  "Mazar Bîlûn."  The dwarf's head turned in his sleep, his hand catching Inara's and holding tightly.  Throughout it all, the woman did not move, as if frozen by the words he had spoken.  Whether she had understood them, Legolas could not say. 

                He turned and left the room, pained by the reminder of the fact that there were yet things he did not know of his generally open friend.  He wondered what they could mean and whom they had been meant for. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

                Lady Marja gripped the thick wooden back of the chair that matched the walls of the hall that had once been hers as the healer nervously shifted from foot to foot. 

                "How bad is the injury?"  Her voice was toneless and emotionless as clear winter ice. 

                "It is deep my Lady.  It will be some days before the dwarf can walk much less travel." 

                "I see."  She turned the information over in her mind, not noticing as the healer scurried away, or the shifting shadows around her as the sun rose above the hall, casting its weak light over the land that now belonged to men. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

So, any guesses as to what Gimli said?  They are real words in the language of the dwarves, I did check!

Star-Stallion:  Well, I'm glad someone else likes Gimli.  I think he's a really under appreciated character for the most part. There aren't many fan fics about him.  Also, sorry for surprising you with the update!  At least it's a pleasant surprise, or I hope it is anyway. 

Lembas pot:  Good thing someone's around to restrain Legolas, or I would have had to up the rating and it just wouldn't have been pretty! ;)  Also, Gimli's not that ugly, just misunderstood, its part of what makes him an interesting character to write about, so few people do. 

Coolio02:  Well if you think the king's evil now, just wait until you find out what's coming.  There will be some not so happy scenes because of that guy… 

itarilde-elenastar:  That's too bad you're sick, I hope you feel better.  ROTK is definitely the best movie I've seen this year, in fact I've seen it 3 times and will probably see it again tomorrow!  Ever time it's over it's like, "What?! That's the end?" and I go see it again!  The only complaint I had was they called it the last boat, but Gimli, Legolas, and Sam all had to go yet, but other than that it was fine, and maybe they just meant that it was the last boat for now or something, because I think Legolas had to build his own boat for him and Gimli…  Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

littlesaiyangirl:  Yep, poor Gimli, and thanks for telling me about you're fic, I'll have to go and look.