The old man was as good of an audience as Gimli could hope for. He laughed boisterously when appropriate and gave grave silence when it was required. So good a listener was he that the dwarf could not help but drag the story out further.

"I still grudge him that drinking game," he laughed, but it turned into a phlegm-filled, pneumonic cough. "But when Gandalf told me he had lost a whole pouch of pipe weed to Aragorn, I was almost glad the elf won."

Legolas's attitude toward the man had not changed during the tale, but he gave his friend a small smile of recollection. "And yet you still will not admit that you lost to me at Helm's Deep," he raised an eyebrow. Gimli snorted an answer, and the old man chuckled as this old quarrel came up between the two friends.

"Helm's Deep," he pondered, remembering. "Another place out of books and fairy tales. It is but an old monument now and its days of lorry are ended. When I did see it, it was but an abandoned stronghold with bent gates and breached walls."

The elf turned his brilliant blue eyes to the man and stared at him hard.

He must have journeyed far indeed, to have traveled from the Bay of Lune to the strongholds of Rohan. "Tell me," the old man said at length, his gray eyes sharp and bright. "Are the Glittering Caves as beautiful as they deem? For the dwarves would not let me near when I was there."

Gimli fingered the three elf hairs at his breast and murmured, "The Glittering Caves… Just the mention of them have earned you another tale, human."

The Glittering Caves of Aglarond

Legolas was reluctant to leave their camp at the bowl before Helm's Deep that morning, for after their travels through Moria, he had never felt the same towards caves and closed in spaces. However, he had promised Gimli that he would see the Glittering Caves with him if the dwarf agreed to journey with him to Fangorn Forest to visit the Ents.

Gimli had endured the heaviness of the trees and the countless hours of Old Entish and other "Tree-talk," as he called it, as Legolas conversed with Treebeard as in the Old Days, when elves and trees talked regularly.

Now, for friendship's sake, Legolas would have to endure the prospect of going underground again and be restrained from fresh air for a few hours. He could do it, he knew, as he had done with marching the Paths of the Dead, but he would rather not if given the choice, being the elf he was.

But Gimli's love for the things in the earth and the actual earth itself now brought them at a good pace to the entrance of the cave's yawning mouth. The White Mountains loomed in front of them, its peaks at a staggering height above them. The elf knew that he could not turn back now. Besides, if I ever had a chance, it would have been to not agree to this journey! He thought.

"Well, then, let's go!" the dwarf laughed delightedly and plunged into the ominous darkness before them, his chain mail clinking.

Legolas hesitated, but could find no excuse and ran in after him.

Gimli welcomed the darkness; it was his home. He tread confidently, already running over the mental map of the place in his head. The elf followed close behind, his sight having gone with the morning light in this tunnel. Already, Legolas could feel the walls of the cave crowding around him, and the moist air pressed down thickly, ready to smother him if he did not take in great gulps of oxygen.

Do not look back, you shall surely run, he told himself and nearly stepped on his friend, as he was too eager to not be alone.

Gimli sniffed the familiar scent of earth and turned a corner. "A little farther," he told his companion. The elf's breath had become harsh and ragged, which surprised the dwarf, as normally, his breathing was inaudible. Even the soft, steady beat of his footsteps had become wild and halting, first speeding up violently, then tripping over an unseen object and stumbling.

"A little further," Gimli tried to encourage his friend. The elf's clumsiness was beginning to scare him as well, as he had never known, even when traveling the Paths of the Dead, that elves could be anything but graceful. Perhaps it was because it was not as close as here, he thought. It did nto matter to Gimli, who could spend many days and nights underground without a breath of fresh air, but the elf was use to forests and open spaces. This must be torture, Gimli thought sympathetically. Why did I ever push him?

Perhaps conversation will help him loosen up, the dwarf thought, and smiled. "Now who's breathing so loud, he can be shot in the dark?" he jested, remembering their stay at Lothlórien and Haldir's comments.

"Let's just move to the glittering part of these caves," Legolas said crossly through clenched teeth. Chills ran down his spine and he could not shake the feeling that the walls would crumble upon the two of them and bury them alive. He shuddered at the thought of death in this dark place by suffocation. "Valar damn it, I cannot see a thing!"

"Oh," the dwarf glanced at the faggot in his hand and smiled sheepishly, though he knew the elf could not see his face. He finally understood why the elf was nervous. He had lost his most precious sense: his sight. "Er…you want some light?"

"You mean you brought--!"

"Er… yes. I just forgot to tell you.."

"Well, then, what in all the Undying Lands are you waiting for!" Legolas thundered, his voice echoing eerily through the caves. A few pebbles fell on his head from the impact, and he gave a very un-elf-like squeak at the prospect that his fear may come true.

A scratching sound came and then a hissing of flame gladdened the elf. His sight magically returned. As his pupils focused, he took in the scene before him. The dwarf was holding a torch before him, looking sheepish and trying to smile his way out of it. The suppressed feeling lifted from the elf's heart as he saw that the walls and the ceiling of the cave were along way off and did not seem about to collapse upon the two any time soon.

With a brighter out look of his time at the Glittering Caves, Legolas could hardly be angry, and Gimli, afraid he had made Legolas quite furious, was relieved when the elf gave him a smile and spoke, "What are we waiting for? Lead on."

The dwarf clapped the elf on the back and grinned back. He led the elf into the next chamber, holding the torch up high. He was satisfied as the elf gave a surprised and awed gasp at the cavern around him.

The dancing light form the flames shimmered off the walls and bounced around the room, creating so much light that even the elf had to shield his eyes. The stones glittered in the torchlight, reflecting every color in Middle-Earth to the pools of water on the ground so that the elf felt as if he was among an ethereal gabble of spirits. Beautiful figures danced before his eyes, ephemeral yet perpetual, and silvers and golds shot arrows through the swirls of reds and blues.

And Legolas, Prince of the Woodland Realm, a great lover of trees and all growing things, suddenly felt in his heart the desire of the dwarves for the stones, treasures and glinting things in the earth.

Moving closer to his friend, he laid a hand upon Gimli's shoulder and together, this strange pair watched, awed, as the ebullient and flowing colors came together before their eyes. The Glittering Caves of Aglarond once again succeeded to amaze.

TBC