Hello, readers. Welcome to the last installment of my little fic. (Well, two installments if you want to count the Epilogue.)
Chapter 8: The Last Revenge
Gimli watched as Boromir flipped the pages of the book the man held in his lap.
"Can you even read any of that script?" inquired the dwarf.
Boromir eyes never left the page, "No."
Gimli tapped his fingers, "Then why do you have that book?"
"I'm looking at the pictures."
Gimli snorted. Boromir, son of Denethor, and brave warrior of Minas Tirith was admiring pictures as if he were reading a child's book. At least the Boromir had a way of occupying himself. Gimli's method of occupation involved various ways of how killing or maiming a certain wood-elf.
An hour or so had passed since Legolas's grand escape from the chimney. He thought the elf would be courteous enough to let them out, but he was wrong. Legolas had not let them out of the library. Gimli had formed a new escape plan when it was evident that Legolas was not coming back. However, his new plan did not work very well at all. He rubbed his bruised shoulder absentmindly, trying to recall how long he rammed the doors without any luck. Boromir had been no help either. He was more content watching Gimli inflict physical pain on himself. The dwarf swore Boromir was trying to cover up his snickering as Gimli spat Dwarvish curses at the lock and a certain elf.
His thoughts strayed back to said elf, this time involving a battering ram. Oh, yes. That would be most effective. Before his mind turned to more morbid corners, Boromir shut the book. The sound was deafeningly loud since the sound echoed from the high ceilings, "Do you hear that?"
"Of course I did! I am not deaf," sneered Gimli, eyeing the book.
"No, no. Not that. I mean outside," said Boromir.
Gimli faced the doors and strained to listen to whatever had caught the man's attention. It was melody. A fair melody. He thought that someone was playing a harp, plucking delicately at each note. Then he realized that the notes formed words. Elvish words. Gimli found that the song was lulling him to sleep. Staying awake was rather hard, but he was determined to keep his attention fixed on the door. He heard a mechanical sound and the creep of a door being slowly opened. An Elven face with long blond hair appeared from the side of the door. The elf smirked, "You may come out now."
With those words said, Legolas quickly escaped Gimli's sight. Gimli merely gaped at the open door. Moving was very hard at the moment as his body felt heavy with sleep. He shook his head to rid of his sudden drowsiness. A low growl emitted from his throat, "I will kill that elf!"
The stout figure charged at full speed out of the library. He met the cool air of the night. As much as he did not want to admit it, Gimli had little or no chance of finding the elf in the darkness. He had keen eyes but not as keen as the Elves. He settled for prowling the path while silently cursing the elf's name to the Halls of Mandos.
He did curse out loud, though, when Legolas dropped from a tree branch directly above him. Surprised at this attack, the dwarf fell backwards and glared at Legolas with contempt, looking as intimidating as he could from his position on the dirt road.
Legolas held out his hand, "I am sorry, Master Dwarf, but I needed to pull you away from Boromir for the moment."
Gimli eyes shifted to the outstretched hand, "I do not see why that is necessary." He ignored the elf's offered help and brought himself to his feet on his own, "Would you mind explaining why you left us in there when you could have easily let us out an hour ago."
"I needed the key," Legolas simply stated.
"And did it ever occur to your puny elf mind that you could have taken down the boards from one of the windows," sneered Gimli.
"And do you think that you could reach the windows to climb out?" asked Legolas with a cocked eyebrow.
Gimli's face turned red with fury and was about to slander the elf with even more Dwarvish curses but Legolas swept past him, "Let me check on Boromir and we can settle this later."
The dwarf clenched his fists and followed Legolas, who was peering inside the library. Gimli crossed his arms and tapped his foot as Legolas shifted his head in various directions, "Gimli, did you see Boromir leave? He is no longer here."
Dark brows scrunched together on the dwarf's face, "No. You do not need to consistently keep track of that man. You practically scared the man silly following him around all day."
"Yes, I know," Legolas said suddenly serious. "I did not mean to scare him that badly. I just needed a bit of fun but I am afraid that he has been using us so I could focus my attention elsewhere."
"Yes. We figured that out already," said Gimli.
"But he has gone farther than you know."
Piercing eyes bore at the elf, "What do you mean, Princeling?"
Legolas chose to ignore the last comment as he closed the library door and leaned against it, "He threw the rock at you during the arm wrestling match. He made you lose on purpose. He wants us to continue fighting each other."
"He did what? I am going to kill that man!" Gimli huffed and was about to seek out Boromir but Legolas placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I believe we could use more subtle tactics," Legolas hinted.
A devious smile showed on Gimli's face. "What do you have in mind, Master Elf?"
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"Honestly, Erestor. You do not need to be that upset with yourself."
"I am sorry for acting this way, my lady, but, those things got away right under my nose."
Arwen giggled at the advisor's choice of words. Placing a comforting hand on Erestor's shoulder, "I must reprimand you from calling Merry and Pippin 'things'. However, I am sure that incident brings back fond memories, does it not?"
Erestor raised an eyebrow as they turned to the corridors leading to the kitchens, "You must be speaking of all the times Elladan and Elrohir burglared my study. Or put lemon juice in my ink. Or stripped my quill of its feathers. Or . . ."
"My brothers caused you much pain," mocked Arwen.
"That they did. I am surprised that I still live."
"How can two younger elves make a much older elf, one that has lived since the First Age, become so paranoid," asked Arwen, putting a finger to her temple as if in deep thought.
"I am afraid your father has been keeping secrets from you. Your brothers are really minions of the Dark Lord."
Arwen pushed the door to the kitchens, "I actually could believe that," Arwen paused before entering the room. "But I am not sure if I believe this."
Erestor, having a height advantage over Arwen, leaned over Arwen's head to take a glimpse at the unbelievable.
Legolas and Gimli were sitting together drinking tea.
Cautiously, both dark-haired elves wandered into the room. They came up to the table with pleasant smiles plastered on their faces. Erestor, still recovering from shock, spoke up first, "Good morning, my friends."
Both elf and dwarf smiled pleasantly at him.
Erestor decided to put pleasantries aside and be perfectly blunt, "Merry and Pippin let you out of the library."
"No," said Gimli.
"How did you get out then?"
"I climbed out the chimney," Legolas took a sip of his tea.
Gimli carefully blew a small breath to cool his steaming drink, "Then Merry and Pippin borrowed the key from you."
"'Borrow' is not the exact term I would use," Erestor thought darkly.
"They gave me the key and I let Gimli and Boromir out," ended Legolas.
Erestor and Arwen exchanged a confused look. "So where is Boromir?" Arwen hesitantly asked.
The tea cup clinked against the small plate and Gimli picked up a scone as he and Legolas walked towards the door leading outside. "We do not know but we will find out," said Gimli as he exchanged a knowing glance with Legolas.
Arwen gaped at them in puzzlement and was about to follow them but Erestor caught her by the arm, "Let them go."
She spun around to face the advisor, "But they are planning something. It will not mean well for Boromir."
Erestor cupped one hand on his chin, "Maybe trapping them in the library did do some good. Legolas and Gimli are getting along and . . ."
"They are getting along to plot against Boromir," cut in Arwen.
"Yes but I rather have Legolas and Gimli going against Boromir than having Legolas and Gimli fighting each other. We should leave them at their own devices and maybe they will solve it themselves," Erestor paused for a second. "Hopefully they will not do anything drastic to Boromir."
Both elves gazed at the open door, adorned with the morning sun's rays, wondering what will befall on the poor man.
………………………………………………
Boromir was going mad.
He thought he escaped the elf's antics for good. He thought the rest of his time spent in Rivendell would be in peace. He thought the elf would be too occupied with the dwarf to bother him. He thought wrong.
He was dead wrong.
Whatever had transpired between Legolas and Gimli after he hastily escaped the library was not good for his mental health. It seemed that they formed an alliance. He did not know how long this alliance would last but he knew one thing: he was their prey.
Earlier that day, he had taken a long needed bath. Relishing in the warm water and certain that he was alone, he began to bellow songs from his homeland. Some of them were rather silly, which grown men should not sing, but he did care. He felt ecstatic that morning.
Boromir wrapped a towel about his waist after he got out of the tub and swung open the door to his guest room.
He flinched.
The elf was there. The elf was standing behind the door. Invading his privacy. Again.
Before Boromir could form any words from his angry stutterings, Legolas smirked and left the room.
Steam would have appeared out of his head if it were possible. Paranoia also set in. How much had Legolas heard? Would he tell the dwarf? Would he be that cruel?
He dressed swiftly and headed to the kitchens. Food would clear his mind. He would be able to handle the situation better if he had food in his stomach.
He cut a slice of bread from a loaf and buttered it harshly. He must calm himself. He plunged the buttered bread in his mouth and swallowed in one gulp. Yes, he had to calm down.
But the person across the kitchen would not allow him to calm down.
Gimli was watching Boromir intently, scribbling notes every now on a piece of parchment.
Since that moment, he tried to avoid them as best he could. Needless to say, he failed miserably.
He went to his closet to pull out his riding cloak. Gimli was in the closet with his piece of parchment.
He went out for a ride on his horse. Legolas jumped from tree to tree stalking him.
He went to train with his sword. Both Legolas and Gimli were there, mimicking his moves.
He took a dip in the Bruinen. Legolas floated on a log sitting in a cat-like manner.
He decided to hide in the gardens. In a bush. Gimli was next him, roses poking out of his beard.
Now, he was walking down the corridor to the Hall of Fire with both of his stalkers on his trail. Legolas and Gimli both had parchments now and were scribbling furiously. Boromir could no longer endure this.
He spun around and elf and dwarf stopped writing, curious expressions on their faces. Boromir started hyperventilating, "Stop. Following. Me."
Legolas and Gimli looked each other and than to Boromir and nodded, "Okay."
And they left.
Boromir gaped at the empty hallway for a second. He snorted once. Then twice. Raising his fists in their, he roared with laughter. He could not believe it he was free. Free! But something made him pause. A nagging thought hit him, "That was too easy. They will do something else. I know it!"
Paranoia was again set in. He dashed back to his room and locked himself in. He would stay here until it was time to set out on the quest. He knew that was a foolish idea but he could not handle this constant scrutiny no longer.
Boromir lay on his bed, trying to control his breathing. If he could not physically remove himself from the situation then he could remove himself mentally. Suddenly, pictures of bashing his shield on a dwarf's head appeared. Another image formed, saw Legolas with an apple on his head and Boromir with a bow an arrow. A smile formed on Boromir's lips as he fell asleep with those images in mind.
………………………………………………….
Morning came and the piercing rays of sunlight roused Boromir. He stretched and let out a noisy yawn. He scratched his chin and smacked his lips. What pleasant dreams he had last night. Although he could not remember them, he felt an odd sort of satisfaction.
Swinging his legs off the bed, he proceeded to go to the bathing rooms but a letter on his desk caught his attention. He did recall leaving any of his documents out of his belongings. Actually, he did not recall bringing any documents.
With sudden dread he picked up the parchment and began to read.
Subject: Boromir
Classification: Man
Origin: Gondor
Researchers: Legolas Thranduilion and Gimli, son of Glóin
Under close observation in the vicinity of Imladris (or Rivendell as referred to by men), the characteristics of a Gondorian man were recorded. This man, in his homeland, is a Captain of the Minas Tirith forces. However, this man showed characteristics that are not deemed accurate when relating to his title of Captain.
Characteristics deemed accurate under a Captain's title are the following: valor, courage, keeping a level head in the sign of danger, controlling emotions in making decisions, and forming coherent speech. During the observation period, the man titled 'Captain' had not shown any of these characteristics. He was jumpy and checked every corner as if waiting an ambush despite the fact that enemy ambushes never occur in Imladris. He lets his emotions make his decisions. He let his emotions (mainly fear and anger) overwhelm him to the point that he was not capable of speech.
From this observation, we conclude that men from Gondor are full of fear and anger. Though we do not know the exact reason, we suspect it is because of their jealousy of Elves and Dwarves for their long life spans. Also, they may jealous of the grace the Elves acquire or the Dwarves skill in their craft.
End of Report.
Boromir's eye began to twitch. "What?"
"There will be more reports like this, unless . . ."
Boromir twirled around to see Legolas leaning on his window, "Unless what?"
His closest door burst open and Boromir nearly jumped out of his skin. The dwarf that emerged from his hiding spot chuckled, "Unless we can come to an agreement of some sort."
He looked wildly between elf and dwarf, "What kind of agreement?"
Legolas jumped into the room from outside the window, "I say we call a truce."
"A truce. That's it? No more stalking me? No more lauding my every move?" Boromir said in disbelief.
Gimli held out his hand, "No more. I promise you." Gimli eyed Legolas. When the elf did not say anything, he gave the elf a rough shove in the stomach.
"Oof!" With a glare to Gimli and sincere eyes to Boromir, Legolas agreed, "I promise too."
A stupid grin was plastered on Boromir and he shook Gimli's hand with his left and Legolas's with his right, "Truce."
………………………………………….
I know that Legolas and Gimli really aren't friends until leaving Lothlórien but that would have destroyed my closing.
Now, for the grand finale . . .