All throughout the afternoon and night the two companions traveled together, taking only such short breaks as to regain a little strength for the next march. And when they did stop, Legolas seemed unable to remain still, but nervously paced to and fro until Gimli was ready to begin the trek anew. For his part, the dwarf could understand part of the elf's anxiety, for he too felt uncomfortable sneaking through lands held by the enemy. But still, the more he pondered their route and destination, the less sense he could make of it. To head to Mordor meant certain death, for the Dark Lord still remained powerful despite the fact that he had once again lost the ring. If anything, he was more powerful than before, for though he had suffered a second defeat, the brief reunion with the ring had restored much of his lost power. Now they were headed directly to his stronghold.

"We will wait out the coming day here," Legolas said, bringing the dwarf out of his thoughts.

Gimli jumped slightly, for he had been so busy with his own thoughts, that he had not noticed that the elf had stopped his march and come up alongside of him. "About time," Gimli countered playfully. "We dwarves may be hearty folk, but to run for half a day and a night after coming fresh from orcish cruelty would cause even best among us to need rest."

The camp that evening was set in a small shallow cave made by the ruins of what had once been the sister port across from Osgiliath. Despite the fact that Legolas had said that their path would take them east, he had struck out a more northward road, following the banks of the Anduin. Here at least, water could be found, though it was dirty from orc filth. Still, it was drinkable, and Legolas had refilled both his and Gimli's waterskins. Then they ate a small bit of Legolas' provisions, but though the air held a slight chill despite the lingering heat of the darkness of Mordor, they did not dare light a fire.

"Tell me, friend, news of yourself. Long it has been since we last met. I had feared you were dead," Legolas asked once their meal had been eaten.

"I was wounded in the last battle," Gimli replied, "and was taken by orcs. They enslaved as many of the dwarves as they could find still alive that day and we were forced into work building forges for the Enemy. I was stationed in one making weapons for the orcs, every day cursing the fact that my hands were forging the very same blades that were taking the lives of the free folk. But I could not dare to do otherwise, though at times I wondered if it might be better to die than to have so much blood on my hands. Perhaps there was some hope within me. I do not rightly know."

"Where were the orcs taking you and the others?" Legolas asked.

"I am not certain. Some of us thought perhaps that we were being moved to a different orc settlement. Others thought perhaps that we were being brought to some other task. It is rumored that dwarves labor away in Mordor to mine for ore. Some believe that the Enemy wishes for those dwarves to forge a new ring of power. As for myself, I do not believe it."

"I think perhaps you are right, Gimli. I do not think that another master ring can be made. Sauron himself cast the one ring for the ruling ring remains loyal only to the hand that created it. To have another forged by hands other than Sauron's would be sheer folly, for it would find a way to ultimately ruin him."

Here Legolas fell into thought for a while and a silence stretched between the two friends. Finally, the silence was too much for Gimli to bear.

"Now will you tell me what madness it is that drives us to Mordor?" Gimli finally asked. "You have said that you would explain why we are headed towards the Enemy once we were camped in a safe place."

Legolas laughed a little. "You speak truthfully."

"Now then, tell me what madness it is that guides you towards certain death, you crazy elf," said Gimli, impatient to have his question answered.

"The madness of hope," Legolas replied. "I must walk head first into the darkest night in order to bring about the dawn."

"Speak plainly!" Gimli asked, not quite following what it was that Legolas meant by his words.

"Do you remember that day, that final battle before the black gates?" Legolas asked after a momentary hesitation.

"How could I forget? For as long as I shall live I will not forget that day. Never will I be able to shake the image of the Dark Lord coming forth from his fortress. But what does that have to do with our current course?"

"I was with Aragorn that day," Legolas began. "I was not close enough to save him, Gimli. I could not battle my way through Sauron's hordes to stop the Enemy from striking him down. But I was close enough to see everything that transpired. Gimli, on that very day, the ring vanished."

"This we all know," Gimli said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He had not spent all day in suspense to be told news that he was already aware of.

"Aye, that is true. But there is a part of the tale that none know, save for me. I know what happened to the ring of power."

"And?"

Legolas did not answer, but instead slipped the ring off of his neck and pressed it into the dwarf's right hand. It was far too dark for Gimli to see, that Legolas knew, for the darkness that spread from Mordor challenged even the keen eyes of the elf.

"It cannot be!" Gimli exclaimed. "This must be some form of joke!"

"I assure you, my friend, that I do not jest with you," Legolas said as he replaced the ring to hang from his neck once more. "In the confusion of the battle, I alone saw the fate of the ring and claimed it for my own responsibility, for is that not why the Fellowship was formed? To ensure the success of the Quest, despite the fate of the ringbearer? So I took the ring and kept it hidden. But as of late, it plays more on my mind and the urgency to destroy it has become ever the more dire."

Gimli nodded his understanding, wondering briefly if the elf could see his movement. "Where was it kept all this time?" he simply asked.

"I was taken to a prison camp with other elves not long after our last defeat. It was perhaps that my identity was unknown to the orcs who ran the camp, for they did not slay me but were content to try and turn me into one of them. The ring ever remained right under the Enemy's nose, but none had the wits to discover it. It was only until now that I was able to get a chance to break free and begin the Quest anew."

"Madness indeed I called your plans," laughed Gimli. "Now I take back my words! For not even I would not say that bravery and unselfish acts are mad. I take it that our journey begins at sundown tomorrow."

"Gimli, I do not ask you to come with me. Indeed I would not blame you if you did not want to follow. My actions may yet prove to be mad, for the road ahead is full of peril."

"Am I not one of the Nine Walkers? Did I not swear the same oath as you to keep true to our objective to see the ring destroyed at any cost? Nay, I am coming with you, whether you would ask it of me or not," here Gimli sounded the least bit indignant. "Besides," he added in a softer tone, "I cannot leave you to face the perils of the road ahead alone. Even more sacred than our oath under the Fellowship is the oath of friendship."

"Thank you," Legolas whispered, a small smile on his face, though he knew the dwarf could not see it.