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Beta Reader: None, as this is one of my shorter pieces.
Chapter III: Craftiness and a Craft
Although the chill of late autumn had deepened into winter, the skies had remained clear, and the travelers had been unimpeded by snow. Only two months after departing from Lothlórien, Legolas and Gimli arrived in Mithlond and stood by the shore of Belegaer, the Great Sea. Gimli was unimpressed at the sight.
"It's just water," he grumbled. "A great lot of water, I'll grant you, but water just the same. Stone is more useful. You can build with stone."
"You don't think it beautiful?"
"It's grey."
"Today, yes. It grows cloudy, and the sea has taken on the cast of the sky above. Were it sunny, the sea would shimmer like the walls of the caverns beneath the Hornburg. You would think that jewels lay sparkling just under the surface."
Gimli grunted his skepticism.
"I swear to you, Gimli, that I speak the truth. Imagine that you stand without a torch in one of the recesses that honeycomb the ground beneath Helm's Deep. It would not be a cheerful place! But only strike tinder to a brand, and suddenly you stand within a treasury of beauty."
Seemingly in confirmation of Legolas's words, the clouds rolled aside, and all the colors hidden within sunlight sparkled upon the sea, as if tiny pieces of rainbow had been strewn by the hands of the Valar. Gimli gasped. Then he scowled at Legolas's triumphant grin.
"Fine, then. It's pretty. But you still can't build with it!"
"True, but you can sail upon it in great comfort. Imagine lying at rest whilst the wind does all the labor."
Gimli's manner changed at once. "Right you are, lad," he said enthusiastically. "You can sail upon it. But I don't see a boat hereabouts."
"I mean to build one—a small one, mind you."
"Do you know how?"
"I think I can manage." Legolas went to the horses and removed a small pack from a saddlebag. He unbuckled its leather straps and from within drew forth a tiny model of a boat.
"Elrohir carved this for me when we were elflings. I mean to pattern my boat upon it." He handed the tiny boat to Gimli, who held it up to the sun and studied it carefully.
"It is well made," the Dwarf said at last with a smile. The Dwarf had always taken pleasure in good craftsmanship. Beyond that, however, he smiled because he was anxious that his friend set sail in a sturdy vessel. Cheerfully, he returned the model to Legolas.
"You are no carpenter, Legolas. Still, with this model and some help from me, you can probably devise something that will float."
"I would be very grateful for your advice, Gimli."
"Advice? Advice? I'll wager I can provide more than words. I'm not dead yet, my pointy-eared princeling!"
Gimli was as good as his word, and over the next several days he summoned up all his remaining strength in his eagerness to see to the safety of his friend. With Gimli's axe, Legolas hewed down the necessary trees, but once the Elf dragged the logs down to the shore, Gimli helped split them into planks. When he was too tired to do that, he planed the boards to smoothness. And when he was too tired even for that task, he whittled pegs. All the while, the Dwarf smiled as he labored, glad that he could help his friend make ready for his journey to the Undying Lands.
'He never ought to have stayed behind in the first place', he said to himself. 'He's got to make the journey alone now, without any company to help and cheer him. I do hope he don't run into trouble on the voyage. I reckon he won't, though. He handled that wobbly elven craft well enough when we made our way down the Anduin. That one time we tipped over, well, I've always known it was my fault, regardless of what I said at the time. Yes, Legolas will be all right, I wager—especially with no Dwarf to throw his boat off balance!'
Encouraged by these and similar thoughts, the Dwarf whistled while he worked, which caused Legolas to laugh to himself. Growing up, the Elf had read mannish folk tales that always had Dwarves whistling while they worked, but he had never known Gimli to do so. Legolas was also pleased to see that his friend had a storehouse of energy to draw upon, for the Elf had feared lest the Dwarf perish even before the keel had been laid. He saw now that the Dwarf would stubbornly hold off death until he was certain that Legolas had been provided with a proper craft.
The two friends worked on the boat every day, even though they were now in the midst of winter and snow lay upon the groud. 'It is well', thought Legolas. 'By the time the boat is finished, the year will have turned toward spring, and the Seas will be less stormy'.
On the first day of Spring, Legolas removed the chocks that had kept the boat from sliding down the wooden skids that it rested upon. The boat slipped easily down the greased slideway and splashed into the water. Its bow dipped briefly, and then the vessel righted itself, floating evenly upon the surface of the water even before Legolas had stepped upon it to lower the centerboard. Both Legolas and Gimli felt joy at the sight, the Dwarf because he thought the Elf would soon be reunited with his kin, the Elf because he hoped that before too many more days had passed he would be able to bear the Dwarf away to the Undying Lands.
The next morning, after carefully examining the boat for leaks and finding none, Legolas raised the boat's small mast and set about rigging it. Meanwhile Gimli sat upon the shore, stitching the sails. By the end of the week, all was in readiness, and Legolas began to place aboard the boat the wafers of lembas that they had been baking and setting aside ever since they first arrived at the Grey Havens. To this store he added the water skins that Gimli had pieced together from the spare leather garments that the Dwarf believed they would need no longer. For good measure, Legolas also hauled aboard a water cask that he had found abandoned in one of the many silent chambers. Then the Elf placed within the boat the fishing lines that would be their guarantee against hunger and thirst should they run short of water and lembas.
After the boat was fully equipped, Legolas began to place within it certain of his treasures that had survived the passage of years. When Gimli and Legolas had left Eryn Lasgalen, the Elf had carefully packed these things, which were of little worth when weighed in gold but which he valued for the memories attached to them. Among them were a few objects from his earliest years, when he had lived in a humble cottage with his Edwin Nana: his little bow with its tiny arrows, the tunic embroidered by his nurse that he had worn the day he was taken away to dwell at the Great Hall, and the book with animal pictures from which Edwin Nana had taught him his letters. He opened this well-worn volume and leafed through it before he wrapped it in leather to keep it safe against the dampness of the Sea. He paused at the picture of Gwael the Gull, remembering how even as an elfling he had been moved by that image to yearn for the opportunity to see what lay Beyond, a yearning that had been strengthened by the sight and sound of the gulls at Pelargir. 'And now I shall at last have that opportunity', he said to himself. 'Even if Gimli and I are not permitted to remain in Valinor, at least I shall have been to and seen the Uttermost West. I only hope that, if we are not welcomed there, at least I shall be allowed to greet my father one last time. The sorrow that I have caused him, that is the one thing I regret. It would be good to be able to show him that I am well. That would comfort him, even if only a little'.
Legolas put aside these thoughts for the time being and continued loading the boat. The toy boat Elrohir had carved for him, that of course he stowed, as well as his matched knives, one a gift from Elrohir, the other from Elladan. With these he packed the whetting stone Glorfindel had given him on the eve of the Fellowship's departure from Imladris. Nor did he fail to place within the boat the bow and quiver that Galadriel had presented him when the Fellowship had departed from Lothlórien.
Some things Legolas did not need to pack. He was wearing his galadhrim cloak, one of those woven for the members of the Fellowship by Galadriel's elf-maidens, and as ever it was fastened at the throat by a brooch shaped like a mallorn leaf. And from his neck hung the wooden bead that Elrohir had given him long ago as a gesture of reconciliation. The wood for the bead had come from a toy bow that had belonged to the son of Elrond. Legolas had accidentally broken the tiny bow, and at first Elrohir had been distraught because it had been given to him by his departed mother. But in the end the bead carved from the splintered bow had become a symbol of not only the friendship between Elrohir and Legolas but also of the bond between Legolas and Gimli. For when the bead had broken, Gimli had cleverly devised a setting for it and hung it upon a chain. Now, whenever Legolas felt the bead against his skin, he was reminded of both friends.
Gimli had been watching without comment as Legolas made his preparations. 'After he has buried me, he will leave upon the instant', the Dwarf thought to himself. 'Well, that is as it should be. He has given up many years with his kin to stay with this old Nauga'. Suddenly Gimli felt very tired. 'Not much longer', he said to himself. Aloud, he said, "Legolas, I think I shall lay down for a bit."
"I think that would be wise. You should rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf!"
Gimli snorted. "I don't know what for. It's not as if I shall need it for anything."
Legolas only smiled.
That night, while Gimli slept, Legolas secretly conveyed the Dwarf's goods into the boat, carefully hiding them beneath his own possessions. Legolas had his little bow; Gimli had a tiny axe that he carried with him everywhere. His cousin Balin had given him the toy many years before that unfortunate Dwarf had departed on his ill-fated attempt to colonize Moria. There was also one especially-beloved pipe, presented to Gimli by Gandalf before the old wizard had left for the Grey Havens. 'I don't know if weed grows in Valinor', Legolas thought to himself, 'but he is very fond of that pipe'. Legolas also hid in the boat a soft, elegantly tooled but well-worn leathern pouch in which the Dwarf stored his finest pipe weed, to be brought out only upon special occasions. That pouch had once belonged to Aragorn, and the King of Gondor had gifted it to Gimli shortly before his death. Legolas knew that the Dwarf would cherish that small bag even after it was empty of weed.
Legolas smiled wistfully at the memory of that final meeting between Man, Dwarf, and Elf, and he fingered the vambraces that he wore on his arms even in these days when there was no fear of battle. These vambraces were of mannish design. They had been Boromir's, and after his death, they had been donned by Aragorn in honor of the Steward's son and as a pledge that the heir to the throne of Gondor would journey to Minas Tirith to defend that city and its people. Before his death Aragorn had insisted that his elven foster-brother take them. Since then Legolas had worn them always, each day strapping on the vambraces with both sorrow and respect, much as Aragorn had done long ago upon the shore of Parth Galen.
Legolas drew himself out of his reverie and continued lading the boat. Gimli's galadhrim cloak he folded carefully, making sure that the brooch was pinned within. Then, upon second thought, he unfolded the cloak and spread it out upon the ground. In its center he placed the drinking horn that Eomer had given Gimli after the Dwarf had matched cups with both Legolas and the Men of Rohan. He wrapped the horn within the cloak. 'It would be a shame if that drinking horn were broken', the Elf grinned to himself. 'It has been immensely useful whenever it has been necessary to instill a little humility in that Dwarf."
One memento Legolas did not need to stow. The three golden hairs that Gimli had begged as a boon from Galadriel, those precious strands the Dwarf always kept about his person. When Legolas and Gimli had sojourned in the Lonely Mountain, before that place had been so tragically destroyed, Gimli had devised a locket in which to keep this tiny treasure, and this locket, hung from a mithril chain, the Dwarf never removed from his neck.
Dawn drew near, and Legolas prepared breakfast, making sure to cook the last of the salted pork that they had purchased when they passed through Bree for the final time. They had procured this item at the sign of The Prancing Pony. Barliman Butterbur was long gone, but the food and drink at that inn were as good as ever.
Breakfast ready, Legolas roused Gimli. It was a little earlier than Gimli was accustomed to rising, and the Dwarf sat up befuddled. It suited Legolas, though, that his friend should be confused. It would make it easier to lure him into the boat.
While Gimli was eating, Legolas slipped off to farewell the horses. "There is plenty of good pasture hereabouts," he told them. "You could do worse than to stay here. If you find the life too lonely, however, always remember that the Periannath are a kind race. They would use you to draw their wains, of course, but they wouldn't lade them overmuch. If it's Men you would rather serve, make for Bree. If I were you, though, I should choose the Shire. The Hobbits are as elvish a people as you are likely to meet."
Legolas gave each horse a piece of a dried apple that had grown on one of the Dunland trees tended by the descendants of Hugh the Farmer. Then, after rubbing down each horse one last time, Legolas returned to Gimli, who was just polishing off the final bite of ham. "Gimli," the Elf said slyly, "you have worked hard on this boat, and it would be a pity if you never had the opportunity to enjoy the fruits of your labor. I am going to take the boat out this morning, and you must accompany me."
"Thank you, lad, but I prefer to have earth under my feet."
"No, Gimli, you must humor me. Time grows short."
This was true, of course, although not in the sense that Gimli assumed Legolas had meant. 'He knows I'm not long for the world', Gimli thought, 'and wants to spend a bit more time with me even as he puts that boat through its paces'. Touched, the Dwarf agreed, just as he had once humored his friend by clambering up a rope ladder into a mallorn tree.
"Very well, lad. I'll go aboard. But don't blame me if the durned thing tips over!"
"I won't," promised Legolas, "but you needn't worry about that happening. When we paddled down the Anduin, we were in vessels that lacked centerboards. This boat is much stabler than those."
"That may be true," grumbled Gimli, "but I don't remember seeing such swells upon the surface of the Anduin as those over yonder. The boat may be safer but the water is more dangerous, so it's six of one and half dozen of the other, if you ask me."
Is spite of his misgivings, however, Gimli allowed Legolas to hand him into the boat. After seeing the Dwarf securely settled in the center of the boat, Legolas piled all their bedding about him so that he was both warm and well protected from being thrown about by the movement of the vessel.
"Legolas, you pack me in as if I were as fragile as an egg," Gimli protested.
"Humor me," Legolas said again, and Gimli was reduced to grumbling under his breath. Legolas cast off the line and with a gaff pushed the boat away from the cay. Then he set about raising the sail. Once it caught the wind, the boat began to skim across the surface of the bay. Legolas settled himself at the tiller, and steered the vessel toward the entrance to the bay.
"Are you sure," Gimli said nervously, "that we ought to go outside the shelter of the bay? Wouldn't the swells outside be higher than the swells within?"
"True, Gimli, but we will ride the swells as a person rides a galloping horse, the two rising and falling as one."
"Oh, that makes me feel better," snorted Gimli, who after all these years was still not comfortable on a horse.
Legolas smiled fondly at the Dwarf but said nothing. Soon they were passing between the statues that guarded either side of the entrance to the bay, and then they were in open ocean. Outside the protection of the bay, the wind was stronger and they moved faster and faster. Glad now for the blankets, Gimli hunkered down in the bottom of the boat. There, protected by both the coverlets and the sides of the vessel, Gimli actually began to feel warmed by a spring sun that shone in a sky clear of clouds. To the delight of the Elf, the Dwarf dozed off.
Hours later, Gimli awoke. He pushed himself up and looked all about. "Legolas," he said nervously, "I can't see the shore."
"Do not fear, Gimli. I know exactly where it is."
"Do you, now?"
"We have been sailing west. The Grey Havens are to the east."
"Ah, I see." Gimli fell silent, pulling a blanket tightly about him. The sun was setting, and the air grew cooler. After awhile, Gimli spoke again.
"Legolas, it is getting dark. Shouldn't we turn back whilst we can still see the sun? Once it sets, how are we to tell which direction is east and which west?"
"We can direct our course by the stars, if need be. I do not think that will be necessary, however. I have set the tiller. We will keep on a straight path."
"Set the tiller? But we are heading west! Hadn't you better wait to set the tiller until after you've got us turned about and headed in the other direction?"
Legolas did not reply.
"Legolas?" said Gimli, who was now quite uneasy.
Legolas still did not reply.
"Legolas!" bellowed Gimli, a hint of panic in his voice.
"We are not returning to the Grey Havens," Legolas said calmly.
"Not returning to the Grey Havens?" said Gimli. His panic had subsided as soon as his friend had spoken, but it had been replaced by confusion. "Ah," he suddenly said, thinking that he now understood. "You will soon turn a little to the north or the south because you know of a spit of land upon which to bury me. It will be a wee bit of a detour for you as you make your way to Valinor."
"I do make for Valinor," agreed Legolas.
"Of course you do, lad. I always knew that you would."
"And you are going with me."
"What did you say?"
"You are going with me to Valinor."
Gimli shook his head. "Legolas, pardon me. I thought you said that I was going with you to Valinor."
"You have the ears of a fox, my friend," Legolas teased.
"Not funny, Legolas. Now, truly, tell me what you said."
"I said," Legolas replied patiently, "that you are going with me to Valinor."
Flummoxed, Gimli could only stare at the Elf for a time. When he finally spoke, he did so with great care. "Legolas," said Gimli, "if you arrive upon the Undying Shores by yourself, is it not likely that you will be embraced by your folk?"
"It is more likely than not."
"But what if you arrive accompanied by a Dwarf? What will happen then?"
"I do not know," Legolas said flatly.
Gimli spoke urgently now. "Then you must return to the Grey Havens and set me ashore," he cried. "You cannot risk being turned away on my account!"
"I can and I must."
"Legolas, you durned, you durned—you durned Elf! I do not ask you to make this sacrifice!
"I have not said that I do this for you, Gimli."
"If you are not doing this for me, then for whom?" shouted Gimli. "I don't see anyone else standing about!"
"Gimli, you know that you are dear to me—so dear that I did not accompany my kin when they departed Arda. Surely you must understand that I could take no pleasure in Valinor if you were not by my side."
Gimli stared at Legolas, his mouth forming an 'o'. At last he cleared his throat.
"Sentimental Elf," he growled.
"Stubborn Dwarf," replied Legolas. Ignoring the scowling Dwarf, he cheerfully let out the sail a little more. Through the darkening night, the boat sailed on.