A Vein of Gold

A few weeks had passed. Legolas, Gimli and I had divided the library into three sections: The one that contained sources in Westron, the one with elvish writings, and a smaller part where dwarven sources were stored. Each of us looked around in one of them and gathered what we could find. How the elf had managed to convince Gimli to help in the search was a mystery to me. The dwarf looked like he was eager to leave the place every time he was there. He was not comfortable, but he was always kind to me, and I gave him credit for that. Besides, unlike Legolas, he was easier to talk to, to fool around with. Even though the elf had given me a lot of help, I was still cautious towards him. Whether that was because of his nature or because I had caught him watching me as I fell asleep from exhaustion after a night shift over one of the sources, I was unable to tell. And I didn't care, because in the end, only one thing mattered: we were making progress.

In the weeks we waited for the return of the messengers, we had discovered three more sources that mentioned people to whom something similar had happened. None of them however would have taken us any further, because they had been written so long ago that even with luck the people were no longer alive. Still, it had shown me that I was not alone with my problem, and that was a comforting thought. For the first time, I didn't feel quite so alone. Even if that was absurd, because the people from the sources were long dead.

Of course, neither Legolas nor Gimli knew why I was really looking for them, and the Elf must have told his friend about my reluctance regarding anything to do with my personal story. Gimli had taken that as a given, another thing I appreciated him for. He was a bit like Earun, only in short and hairy.

Each of us, however, with all our research, had continued to go about our lives: I worked in the Golden Crow, Gimli made sure the city continued to be rebuilt, and Legolas had even left Minas Tirith for a few days to check on things in Ithilien. As I had learned, he had settled a colony of wood elves there.

I didn't find out more about that, because I meant what I said: I did not want to talk about my past and in consequence could not expect him to tell me more about his reasons for leaving the Greenwood. Nevertheless, I had noticed the discrepancy - I had not forgotten the script that had brought us together.

I had just finished my shift and returned to the library, this time through the main entrance. The elf had taken care of that, too: I no longer had to sneak in through the side entrance. I knew where to find the dwarf and the elf, yet I always took a little time to admire the library's impressive entrance hall. It stretched over the entire four stories that the building was high, and its edges were lined with shelves adapted to the curve, covered all over with leather books.

Today I wasn't the only one on my way to the reading room. I arrived with a group of travelers, and that was the only reason Legolas didn't hear me coming, as much noise as the men made when they settled at one of the larger tables.

He and Gimli were talking in hushed voices behind the shelf where our research table stood. If I hadn't heard my name being called, I would have assumed they were talking about the contents of sources, as usual. But when it was clear they were talking about me, I paused in the shadow of the shelf.

"I don't think she has anything to hide, lad. If she did, we would have figured it out by now."

With held breath, I waited for Legolas' reply, hoping he didn't notice me. "I don't think so any longer myself, but there must be a reason why she's investing so much time in this hunt." Not any longer? So I had been right! He had been suspicious of me.

"And that would be?" The dwarf sounded as if it went against his wishes to talk about the reasons for my silence. I would have liked to hug him for that. While I understood Legolas' curiosity, I wasn't ready to confide in him or anyone else.

"She has to have a connection to the people," Legolas had just said. "But my heart cannot fathom what the nature of that connection is."

"Well, perhaps it involves family," Gimli said. "That would also explain why she's so secretive. Maybe she's looking for a family member. But, lad, I don't feel comfortable guessing about that. If she wanted to tell us, she would have done so by now."

"Aren't you curious at all?", I heard the elf ask.

"She will have her reasons," Gimli replied. "And she has told you before that she does not wish to speak of it."

"Yes..." said Legolas, and I heard the reluctance in his voice. Perhaps elves were simply more curious than dwarves? Though it was very likely more because of this particular Elf, I was sure of that by now. Once Legolas had begun to explore a topic, he was as tireless in the pursuit of it as I was in mine. Something we had in common, but which fell on my feet in this case.

"My cousin Balin used to say, 'We dwarves tend to be too eager and dig too deep.' Don't make the same mistake, lad."

"Aspen is not a mine, Gimli."

I stepped out from behind the shelf. "No, but my inner vein of gold tells me that topics are being talked about that are not up for discussion," I said, looking at Legolas in particular. "Right?"

Despite Gimli's thick beard, I saw him blush. I couldn't blame him; it was the elf who was testing the waters again. As if I hadn't made it clear enough where my line was. I couldn't say anything against him being curious, but it made it more difficult. Not only in dealing with him, but also in not allowing getting closer. The less we knew about each other, the easier it was to end an early friendship. I had to admit to myself that my façade had cracked more than a little over the last few weeks, but my basic mindset was still the same: I wasn't here to make friends or anything else. I was here to go home. And Gimli and Legolas were simply the best opportunity that had presented itself to me since I arrived here.

"And is that why you get nervous every time the elf comes near you?" asked a small voice inside me, which I resolutely pushed away immediately afterwards.

Legolas had his hands clasped behind his back. "Were you overhearing us?"

"There was no missing your words," I replied.

His eyes briefly flashed, and we both knew he had seen right through me. But I wouldn't apologize for it. "If so," he said, tensely, "I have good news nonetheless: The messenger from Rohan is back."

My heart leaped. "Well?"

"It took him longer; the woman was hard to find. But he found her. She lives in Helm's Deep. And she would be willing to speak to you." In the process of Gimli colonizing the Glittering Caves, the fortress was no longer just a retreat, but permanently inhabited - and by the looks of it, not just by dwarves.

"That's... great," I managed. Of course I was glad, and it was wonderful news that the woman was still alive. Still: I didn't have the resources, let alone a horse, to ride to Helm's Deep. My obligations lay here.

"The Elven Princeling and I have been planning a short visit to Helm's Deep for some time now. There are some things to be settled there regarding the ring construction here in Minas Tirith, and I would be happy to show you the wonders of the caves of Aglarond," Gimli said, obviously wanting to make up for the way the two of them had spoken about me earlier.

"That is very kind of you, truly, thank you Gimli." I bit my lip. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the piercing gaze of the elf, who had undoubtedly already noticed that something was off. "I'll get back to you about that."

"Well then." The dwarf stood up. "Nain needs my help with the stone selection for the paneling."

With that, he nodded at us and left me alone with Legolas.

I had a feeling that this, too, had been agreed upon beforehand.