Disclaimer: Same old thing. I do not claim to have created any of the characters that already exist in Tolkien's books.
I am sorry if my inaccuraciesbother anyone.
Please don't flame me, it doesn't help, but constructive critism is always welcome.
Chapter Two: The First Day Is The Hardest
The never ending swaying of the boat had turned Gimli green. Between deep breaths he grumbled about how desirable solid earth was.
But Legolas, completely at home on the ship's deck would only laugh and remind his friend that he had volunteered to come. Indeed, Legolas had not been able to dissuade him. Of all the people the elf had ever met, the dwarf had to be the most stubborn.
"Isn't it glorious?" Legolas enthused, once again forgetting his friend's predicament. He turned his gaze sheepishly from the sprays of water that rose over the sides of the ship to Gimli and was torn between concern and amusement. "I guess I win the bet." He said after a while before turning back to the sea.
The wind was steady, the sails firmly tied in position, and with Gimli leaning against the wheel keeping it in place, he had no reason to worry about which way they were headed. Not that it was important anyway; they had no set course to follow.
"You cold hearted wretch," Shouted Gimli, as the rocking eased long enough for him to regain a little of his pride and composure.
"You call yourself a warrior? I'm ashamed of you Gimli." Legolas said, but the humour in his eyes curbed the sting that he knew the words would cause.
He turned his back on the ocean and walked adeptly along the deck until his was standing before the prone dwarf. He squatted down beside him and found that he had to admit the dwarf was not looking like a happy little bunny. His skin was almost green and he clung onto the axe as though it would save him from the bucking and rearing of the boat.
Taking a hold of the dwarf's arm, he heaved him to his feet, and walked him to the trap door that lead down into the dark storage areas that would also be used as a place to sleep. The motion of the boat wasn't as strong down there, and he last thing he wanted was Gimli moaning about vomiting all over the place.
"Sleep. It will help." Legolas advised, as he set the dwarf down on the heap of blankets that were to act as his makeshift bed whilst they were at sea.
On hearing Gimli mumble something that sounded like an agreement, Legolas took one last look at the dwarf and left the dark space for the fresh air of the deck. He couldn't help feeling sorry for Gimli. Aloof he may be, uncaring he certainly wasn't. He almost wished he had never told his friend of his idea, but what was done was done, and not matter how much he wished he had done different, it wouldn't change the fact that he had a sea sick dwarf on his hands, and an irritable one at that.
He walked over to the wheel, now spinning madly about its axis. With firm fingers he gripped it, made it stop turning and held it still. It happened quickly, his hands moving on little more than instinct. Could it really be less than half a day since he and Gimli had left their other friends standing on the riverside? To him it already felt like an age ago.
The elf stood at the wheel, looking out over to the horizons. He could just about make out the shape of land on the horizon on his right. After a moments thought he decided that it wasn't the same he had left behind scant hours before – the few details of the landscape he could make out were vastly different from any of the coastlines he could remember, and he wasn't one to forget easily.
After another moments thought, he considered it better not to rouse Gimli. The look on his face had almost been enough to start making his own stomach churn.
Slowly, he turned the wheel so that eventually the small ship was facing towards the newly sighted land. Looking around in search of a way to secure the wheel as it was, he lunged for a coil of rope while keeping one hand firmly grasping the wheel. Then, fumbling slightly from lack of practise, he lashed the wheel in place so that it wouldn't move.
That done, he moved towards the mast and swung himself up to the bar that held the sails. Carefully, he changed the position of the sail so it caught the wind coming from the right direction. The wind had dropped dramatically, and for a moment he feared that it would disappear entirely, but fortunately it pick up just enough to keep the little ship moving.
Gimli was lying on the blankets feeling awful. He felt like his stomach was jumping and doing somersaults, his breakfast threatened to come up and say hello and, worst of all, his head was throbbing. He tried to remember why he had agreed to go on this jaunt when he had known even then that he would feel like he did now.
But amid his uncharacteristic thoughts of self-pity, came Legolas's words: 'I guess I win the bet'. A small part of him taunted him for falling into the trap again. It was a well-known fact with all those who knew him that when Legolas made a challenge he would not back down whatever the cost. Some said it was because one was a dwarf and the other an elf. Others claimed that it was pride on Gimli's part. It didn't matter. He had still bet that he would be able to survive the first day at sea without feeling ill. Well he had lost that part of the bet, but by his grandfather's beard, that elf would not win outright.
Fighting back the nausea that threatened to take over him, he stood and wobbled his way back up on deck. Once out in the evening sunlight, he straightened his shoulders, raised his chin and did his utmost best to strut over to the foot of the mast.
"You won't win that easy." Gimli called up to Legolas as the elf swung down from the heights. "I'm back." He added, planting his feet firmly on the wooden deck and much to his amazement as well as that of the elf, he stood straight as an arrow, the titling of the ship affecting his balance no more than it did Legolas.
Legolas dropped his usual veil of reservation to smile. Quickly, he glanced about to make sure everything was holding and when certain he walked lazily over to the prow and looked out at the land they were now headed for. It was closer than it had been before, but it was still hard for him, sharp eyed or not, to pick out specific details.
"Land Gimli!" He turned to look back at the dwarf, only to find him standing a few feet behind.
"The sooner we reach it the better" The dwarf grumbled as he battled with another wave of nausea. "I'm bored of this tub."
"Already?" asked Legolas, a small smile curving his lips good-naturedly.
But the humour in the question was entirely lost on Gimli, who merely grunted and stomped off back to the mast where he felt considerably safer.
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It was well after nightfall when Legolas was woken by a shout. He and Gimli had been taking turns to watch the ship and make sure any adjustments were made to make sure that they stayed their course – this often meant that when the wind changed Gimli would wake Legolas and get him to change the sails and reposition the rudder.
Legolas opened his eyes to find himself looking into the eyes of a dark skinned woman. A voice in the distance shouted what had to be an order and she moved out of his line of vision and walked towards the trap door, through which a disgruntled Gimli was being dragged.
Another order was barked and a small group of dark clad men and women surrounded him. And going against his instincts, he did not reach for his bow, which he had keep near, or the knife he had sheathed at his belt. And those who surrounded him did nothing to try and take them. Out of the corner of his eye he noted that Gimli now clutched his axe, but was also surrounded by a small number of people.
Some in the circle that surrounded him pushed him forwards towards the side of the boat, and Gimli soon joined him.
"Do we fight?" Gimli muttered under his breath, somewhat piqued that they had been taken off guard.
Legolas shook his head. "See who they are and what they want first." He didn't want to see any blood spilt.
Gimli wasn't happy with it, but he had to agree it was the best way to handle the situation. "Who are they?"
Gimli jumped when the voice that answered him did not belong to Legolas.
"We are the Saenian Pirates. And you are our," The speaker paused. "Our new guests." There was something ominous about how he spoke that was substantiated not long after.
They were marched along a series of boards onto another ship, and then down into complete darkness, powerless to do anything to stop it. Neither had the heart for a fight, and each wanted to believe that there was a peaceful solution to the most undesirable scenario. After all, they were still in possession of their skulls.