Mirkwood glowed in the day's first light. The dark green foliage of the forest trees gleamed with heavy dew, bestowing a glowing radiance the place did not possess other than at dawn- and rarely was the dawn so fiery as it was this morning. Legolas Greenleaf lay on his couch, staring up at the leafy ceiling above his head. He lay quietly, gazing at the gold-flecked clouds through a gap in the overhead greenery, his musings interrupted by the voice of his companion Brethilior.
"Brother, we must leave today if we are to reach Lothlorien by the time the Lady foresaw," he interjected quietly. "She will not be pleased if we arrive late," he said as Legolas didn't move. A hint of sternness crept into his voice, "You know that."
"Yes, I know," said Legolas with a sigh, "I merely wish to know why the Lady summons us to Lothlorien, when she herself is beyond the seas, and will not be seen by us there."
Brethilior rested a hand on his shoulder. "The Lady is wise, she has a reason for our journey, and she will tell us through the mirror."
"Yes, yes," Legolas sighed, "but I fear my patience is wearing thin. The tidings cannot be good if she seeks to speak with us from the Grey Havens." Brethilior said nothing, only turned away and walked back to his bags, strapping them to the back of his horse, taking care not to overburden the magnificent creature.
Legolas continued to stare at the leaves waving in the air above him until Brethilior had finished tying his pack to the horse and spoke again. "Come friend Legolas, I have packed my horse and we must leave quickly, if reluctantly, to do the Lady's will. I will wait for you at the gate," Brethilior said, glancing sideways at Legolas' face, "I trust you will not be too long."
Legolas sighed, "No friend, I will not be long"
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"Let me out! Barbarians! When the king hears about this you'll hang!"
Aragorn grinned. He was a fair way from the dungeons, but he could hear the furious dwarf from where he stood. The guards must be insane, he thought, a smile creeping onto his face. Either that, or terribly brave. It took some steel to wrestle an axe from a dwarf.
Gandalf strode beside him, fighting desperately to hide a grin.
As they rounded a corner, and came into full view of the dungeon, the sound of Gimli's furious yelling increased significantly. When Aragorn and Gandalf came to a corridor of cells, they could instantly tell which Gimli's was. His cell had a solid stone front, with 2-inch thick bars for a window in a small door made of thick wood. His cell was also the one that the guards stayed carefully away from. The sound of his yelling doubled when the imprisoned dwarf heard the pair's footsteps.
"Who's that? Someone you fools have brought to interrogate me? Whoever you are you can go get the king that is ruling this bedamned city and tell him my name is Gimli not bloody-"
"Gimlet?" The king suggested as they came to a stop next to the cell.
"Damn right man! And if that daft girl told the king my name was Gim…" The voice trailed off into silence. "Aragorn? Is that you?"
Aragorn stopped at the door of the cell. "Yes, my dear angry dwarf, it is me." Aragorn smiled, "You know, you shouldn't scare the guards so, it puts them off their work"
As he was speaking a short figure had popped into view behind the window for an instant, and then disappeared again. The same thing happened several times over until Aragorn realised what was happening.
Aragorn couldn't stop himself, and burst into laughter as the dwarf kept jumping up and down inside the door. Gandalf, who had been standing nearby and conversing with a guard named Bronad, said sternly, "Why, Gimli, did you refuse to give the guards your axe?"
The jumping abruptly stopped, and a rather sheepish voice said, "There was a guard there, if you can call him that, and he called me a foul name, so I let my emotions, and my axe get the better of me."
Gandalf gave a grunt, and said, "Well, that is not at all acceptable." Gimli however couldn't see the smile on his face.
"Too right it's not acceptable laddie," Gimli mumbled as Aragorn unlocked the door and let him out, "These guards reflect badly on your people, you know."
As Aragorn looked at the short warrior, he had to grin. His beard was bedraggled, more so than usual, and he was wearing a ratty garment that had once been a dark green, but was now so covered in stains that the colour of the material was virtually impossible to tell.
"And, my friend, why are you here?" said the King, "Your appearance indicates a long journey."
"Well," said Gimli, "I am here because my people sent me. They said I was to meet someone who would tell me why I'm here."
Aragorn frowned. There seemed to be much he wasn't aware of happening in Middle-Earth, and he found it quite disturbing.
Gimli then turned to Gandalf, "Is that why are you here, old friend? You went westward with the elves as I recall, but I'm damned if I don't see you standing before me now in Middle-Earth."
"I come because of a threat, and a peril now growing in this land."
Gimli and Aragorn exchanged worried glances as the wizard continued; his voice became increasingly foreboding as he spoke.
"Gimli, you recall the Arkenstone?" The dwarf nodded. "Good, good. The stone was rested upon the breast of Thorin when he was buried, shortly after the end of the Battle of Five Armies. Dear Bilbo was there and witnessed the burial, along with the placement of the stone."
Here the wizard paused, taking a deep breath and looking carefully at the faces of those who surrounded him.
"The stone has been sto-" The wizard stopped abruptly, and then turned to the King, "Perhaps there is a, more, secluded, area where we can finish our conversation? The dungeon is hardly a suitable place for something of this gravity."
Aragorn smiled, and said "I know just the place. Follow me."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The trio walked through the city to the ancient library, and took a path that started behind the painting of a Lady of old behind a double curtain at the end of a disused corridor. A small depression in the wall released the painting from its place. They filed up the narrow, musty path in the dark.
The king took several turns at various junctions. The only light was a pale emanation from Gandalf's staff, but the King had traveled this passage many times without a light. The room they arrived at was small and dusty, centuries of debris carpeting the floor, bookshelves lining the walls. The room was just large enough to house the three men; the tall shelves took up most of the available space.
The dwarf spluttered in the stirred up dust, but Gandalf and Aragorn, whose heads rose above the dust cloud had no such problem.
"Wha-what is this place?" coughed Gimli, eyes watering.
"This, friend, is a hiding place of the librarians. It was created for when one of our many wars ravaged the city, and the librarians needed a place to hide." Aragorn continued, "This room contains many of the valuable scrolls of our country. This place resides deep within the mountainside."
Gimli turned to Gandalf, who had been peering at a scroll.
"What is this that you spoke of? What has happened to the Arkenstone?"
"Ah," said the wizard, "it is most unfortunate. The stone," he paused with a frown, "The stone has been stolen."
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Hey, sorry I took so long about writing this fic, and thanx for my first reviews. Any more opinions would be much appreciated! I'm sorry if this is a bit of a cliffhanger, but the plot needs a bit more development before I write the next chap.