The old man's eyes softened and he gazed into the distance, east and south, as if trying to search for this beautiful treasure that he would never see. For a long time, he was silent, thinking and smiling slightly, the wonderful image the dwarf had conjured up still lingering in his mind.

Legolas watched him, unable to make out what this man was thinking. He was different from the men of Gondor and Rohan, for his expression was hard to read and his body language gave away nothing.

At length, the man spoke. "You told me of Moria," his voice was concentrated and slow. "The Black Pit. The dwelling of Durin's Bane. You have traveled there?"

At this, Gimli shuddered and grew silent. More wrinkles curled around his brow, as he remembered the dark days that the small band of friends had spent there. And moreover, in the darkness of the Deeps, lay more evils of the earth than Gimli the Dwarf cared to unfathom.

However, Legolas spoke. "Moria brings to my mind many dark and strange memories. But no doubt, you have heard already the Fall of Gandalf the Gray and the Balrog. I have lighter recollections of my time there. Perhaps you would like to hear…"

A Journey in the Dark

When Legolas first stepped into Moria, he had hated it. The place was dark, foul-smelling, and completely rocky, with nothing to relieve him of well… the rocks!

There seemed to be a deep, dark, brooding presence in the air, everywhere he went. The rocks did not bother him so much, as long as the pebbles were not poking under his soft-booted feet, but the worst was the cold and the stuffiness. No sunlight shone through to the deep places of the earth, and even worse, no air seemed to be able to get in. His heart needed a breath of fresh air, and his lungs ached because of the things he was breathing in.

The dwarf, Gimli, seemed to love this place. Dwarves were built to work underground, and so he must have felt right at home. The evil here did not seem to bother him, for he only had eyes for the old mithril mines and the works of his forefathers.

When Gandalf had said it would take four days to get from one end of Moria to the other, the dwarf had sighed. It had not been from exasperation that the journey under the mountains would take too long, but from sadness that the journey was too short.

Since the wizard's proclamation, he had been trying to make the visit in Moria longer than necessary. No one agreed with him, but no one rejected him outright either, except Legolas. After all, the elf had grown up in places like the forest, with lots of leaves and open spaces.

Because of Gimli's desire to go through the mines at a slower pace, the rift between the elf and dwarf had flared up again.

The group made their way in silence along the dark passages of the mines, led by Gandalf, who muttered to himself, choosing first this way then that.

Suddenly, the wizard stopped, causing Pippin to crash headfirst into him. "Ah!" the hobbit cried softly. "Could have given a warning! Got Glamdring right between the eyes I did. Of all the soft places, I got the hard edge!"

"Shh!" Merry whispered, the journey having already wizened him beyond recognition. "There are more sharp edges to Gandalf than you think." They were whispering, but Legolas could hear them clearly. They were the only two in the Fellowship that seemed to still retain their sense of humor after the disaster atop Caradhras.

The wizard ignored them and spoke out, "Here we meet the first of our hard choices, friends." He pointed before them, where the road led. "Our path grows wider but ends in that. Do we move on or go back?" Eight pairs of eyes turned to what he was indicating, and saw that the path indeed did get wider, but ended in a ten foot gap, then continued.

No one could see the bottom of the chasm and no one asked what was down there.

Seeing this obstacle, Gimli immediately suggested that the entire group turn back. He could not help but grin at the prospect of staying longer in these mines, but Legolas immediately disagreed. The tenseness of the elf could be sensed by even Sam He hated this mine and wanted to get out of it as quickly as possible.

Testing the rock with his foot, he nodded silently. "The rock is strong," he commented. "It will hold a jump." Gandalf nodded, as if approving of the elf's idea, but before he could go, Gimli stepped in again.

"We cannot go this way. The hobbits cannot make the jump, and we should find another way somewhere else," he said stoutly, and glared at Legolas, who gave him a murderous look back.

Without saying a word, the elf leaped to the other side, followed by amazed gasps from the hobbits. Ten feet was not much, but to Sam, small hobbit as he was, it was more than twice his body length. How could he ever make that?

Legolas landed lightly, as all of his race did, and turned to look at the others. He held the dwarf under his gaze, who returned his stare, but began to squirm with discomfort after only a few seconds.

His comfort was the last thing on the elf's mind at the moment. "Perhaps," he answered coldly. "The dwarf is afraid." Instantly, he remembered everything that his father, King Thranduil of Mirkwood, had said of dwarves. They were insolent, stiff-necked, ephemeral, and incapable of focusing on anything for a long time. He could recall all of these insults and mentally added to this list.

His thoughts fell on the rest of the Company. The men.

They are weak and have no abilities. Would you trust the world to them? his father's voice sounded again in his head. If Isildur had been able to let go of the Ring like he should have, would you still be facing this journey with that stubborn dwarf.

He tried to shut that out. The men had nothing to do with this.

But, his father's voice sounded, if they had been elves, you would have been able to pass over Caradhras and not come down here to this foul dark place.

His mind came back to the present when he saw the dwarf become extremely red in the face by the light Gandalf's staff. "I am not afraid of such a jump! I have made twice as far in my father's mines!" the dwarf scoffed, his hand already at the ax on his belt. Legolas sneered, doubting this beyond anything else the dwarf had said, but did not respond, for it coordinated wonderfully with his plan.

He returned smugly then, when no one else said anything, "Alright then, Master Dwarf. Prove yourself, and I will say no more."

Aragorn glanced at the two sharply, but they were too caught in their own argument to notice him. Grinding his teeth, his hand also came to the sword at his side, but decided to let it go and only gave the torch in his hand a swipe with venom.

The dwarf opened his mouth but shut it again, clearly having no insults to throw back at the elf. Legolas's sneer grew wider.

"Per.. perhaps you are afraid of the dark, Master Elf? Else, why would you be so eager to move on? A bit jumpy, are we not?" the dwarf finally threw back at Legolas.

The elf bit the inside of his cheeks hard so as not to yell out the long string of Elvish curses that had come to his lips. He was indeed afraid of the darkness, though it was not the end of his fears. The dwarf looked triumphant, and Legolas could not stand to lose to him. "This has nothing to do with the darkness, Dwarf," he spat back. "We must complete the task given to us as quickly as possible before the Dark Lord realizes our mission. The quickest way is over this gap, and if you are so positive you can do it, why do you not prove it!"

"Enough!" the wizard threw up his hands. "Legolas is right. We must go the quickest way, and it is over that rock."

The dwarf again was speechless, but to the elf's surprise, Boromir came to his aid. "We may find another way. A way quicker than this," he spoke fast, trying to stop an all out war between the two rivals. Neither calmed as the man from Gondor wished.

But Gandalf did not heed this, and had already thrown his hat and staff over the gap. With the strength of a much younger man, he leaped across the chasm and landed perfectly, with almost as much grace as the elf.

The others gaped, open-mouthed, at this, but Frodo stepped forward, decided that if Gandalf, their leader, had decided this was necessary he would do it. "I will go next," he proclaimed, and Boromir moved to position himself as if to carry the hobbit, but Frodo refused. "No," he nodded courteously at the man. "I believe you have underestimated us hobbits. I shall make the jump myself."

Then, stepping back a few steps, the hobbit ran and leaped. Frodo was tall for his kind, and thin as well and made the gap easily, as his skills had been honed upon the journey. Sam seemed eager to follow his master, but saw the gap and hung back again, afraid.

Merry, however was unabashed and determined to make the jump. He still seemed in doubt, and he was slightly intimidated by the gap. "It is no shame to ask for help," Aragorn saw this in the hobbits face and said kindly. He had grown to be the most fond of the hobbits, other than Gandalf.

But Merry shook his head. "No Baggins has ever beaten a Brandybuck at jumping ," he said out loud, as if he was trying to reassure himself. Then, going far back, he took a running star and long-jumped.

He leaned forward, feet out in front of him and stumbled as he landed, but he had made it across. Pippin them made it over as well, but Sam was carried by Boromir. Aragorn left the dwarf, who was still doubting his own ability, and joined the rest of the fellowship.

"Do you need help?" the man asked from the other side, and was ready to jump over to help the dwarf.

"Nobody tosses a dwarf!" he said stubbornly and planted his feet. "I will jump. It will show who is the coward yet." Legolas face became hot. He was no coward. And who is this mortal to say that to an elf? He thought. He kept his tongue behind his teeth and did not utter a word, for fear of saying something inappropriate.

The dwarf took a few steps back and gave the elf a dark look. Then, taking the steps at a running pace, he leaped. Up into the air he flew, his mail rattling and echoing in the silence. At his highest peak, it looked as if he were to make the jump, but down he came, missing the ground by only inches.

A yell of ear escaped his lips as his feet scraped the side of the rock, knowing he was not going to make it. The elf watched in horror, and before he knew it, he was leaping forward.

Throwing out a hand, the entire image of the dwarf, almost comic in his heavy mail and long hair, arms flailing around uselessly, Legolas watched this as if in slow-motion. His hand grabbed at whatever part of the dwarf he could reach and held on, planting his feet on the edge of the rock.

"Not the beard!" Gimli yelled fearfully, for the elf had grabbed the dwarf's long beard to keep him from falling.

By this time, the others had woken from their stupor and Boromir and Aragorn came and grabbed the dwarf's flailing arms, and together, with some difficulty, they pulled the dwarf into safety.

Legolas lay still in his bedroll that night, hands folded upon his chest and eyes open, staring at the intricate rocky patterns upon the ceiling of the watch tower that Gandalf had selected for them to stay that night. Pippin had fallen asleep in the corner as the watch, having been punished by the wizard being so foolish as to drop a stone into a well. Legolas decided that as he could not pass into the dream world, he would keep watch instead.

To all others, he appeared asleep, but his mind was buzzing with thoughts. You idiot! a little voice had scolded him a dozen times already. Why did you have to go and rouse the dwarf like that? You know that his ego cannot possible stand the insults that you were hurling at him! You knew that he was going to try and make the jump. What if he had fallen?

So much better for the rest of the fellowship, he told that little voice bitterly, but immediately felt guilty for thinking such a horrible thing. He could not understand why he was even thinking of the dwarf when he should have been comfortable resting.

Oh, a great contribution that would have been! the voice told him. After all, who was it that clearly saved your skin during the Warg's attack?

That was just a plain accident! Legolas tried to block out the voice. He happened to be standing behind me when a Warg leaped at him!

The voice was silent, but the elf's heart was not comforted. Instead, he felt worse, having not listened to his conscience.

Seeing that everyone seemed to be asleep, he got out of his bedroll and began to pace around the room, for it seemed easier to pace and be occupied by something than it was to lie still. "I see, elf, that you cannot sleep either," a gruff voice nearly made the elf jump out of his skin. The dwarf was sitting up, also out of his bedroll, where seconds before, he had been snoring away.

"I wonder why mortals always say the obvious?" Legolas commented coldly, unwilling to be on the receiving end of this dwarf's crude jokes.

However, to his surprise, Gimli laughed. "You think that I am spending precious minutes of my beauty sleep to ridicule you? Nay, elf, you take me too unkindly, I fear," the dwarf told him. Legolas turned his eyes on the stout figure, suspicious, but also curious.

At length, the dwarf gave a curt nod. "I awoke to thank you for saving my life."

The elf near fell back in surprise. He had never expected this courtesy from a dwarf, and the guilty feeling immediately encompassed his heart again. "Nay, do not thank me," he said gravely, speaking his heart. The little voice inside his head cheered up slightly. "It is I who goaded you to attempt the jump when I knew you could not. It was a cowardly thing to do."

The dwarf waved this aside, and took out his pipe and lit it. Blowing smoke rings from his mouth, he answered, "It was not your goading, but this stubborn and thick skull that made me attempt such a thing. I assure you, I shall not try and delay our stay at Moria any longer, if you do not wish it, Master Elf."

Legolas inclined his head, actually meaning respect by it this time, and smiled. "I thank you for that, Gimli Dwarf."

The dwarf blew a humongous puff of smoke from his lips and coughed slightly. "What's with all these formalities? Have we not been traveling for nearly two months?"

The elf's smile grew wider. "The formalities are enforced, Master Dwarf," he told the smoking figure. "For in that time, it seems that I have never gotten to actually meet you. Perhaps we should start now. Good morrow, Master Dwarf, for I do not know the actual time. I am called Legolas, of the Woodland realm."

Gimli laughed so hard that the nearby sleepers shifted in their positions and muttered in their sleep. "You're not too bad, elf. You're not too bad!" he grinned.

TBC...

Phew! That chapter's complete. If you like it, please review! And if you don't like it... well, review anyway! I wanna hear from you!