Sorry about the wait…Thursday night as promised, at least! I'm afraid this story will likely end up following a weekly schedule rather than an every-couple-days type of thing. Maybe twice a week/week-end sometimes, but on the whole, look for a new bit each week…hopefully! And any political/naming/language/geography errors, please feel more than welcome in pointing out! I would greatly appreciate such assistance. Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter Three

Gimli, arms crossed tightly, watched what he deemed the foolishness of Elves and Men with ill-disguised disgust. Those two seemed to be enjoying themselves, though. Why they felt the need to move about on anything other than their own two legs, the Dwarf would never understand—especially when those other things had minds of their own. While he would never admit it—especially to the Elf—Gimli had been secretly relieved when Legolas had announced that he would leave Arod to the care of Gondor's stables and proceed to Emyn Arnen on foot. Gimli had suitably expressed his sentiments about the journey until Legolas had offered (threatened, more like) to retrieve the horse to speed their travels and so shorten the time that he would have to spend listening to the complaints. Gimli had promptly turned to other targets for his tongue—chief of them the Elf himself, of course.

The Dwarf was distracted from his musings when he saw something moving on the plains. Squinting, he could see a horse and rider making for the gate. Turning, Gimli was about to point this out to the crazy figures on horseback below, but he saw that they were already returning. He realized with a grumble that Legolas had likely sighted the rider an hour ago and had timed things so that he and Éowyn would return well in advance of the visitor.

Gimli sighed and started down from the walls. He might as well join them and see who had come hither.

…………….

"Be you sure you need not go lie down for a rest after all that exertion?" Gimli muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Legolas spared a glance at his short friend, but Gimli felt that he had finally gotten a taunt in home free. The Elvish prince was too well-trained from his father's (eternally cursed, of course) court to hold a side conversation while the lord (or in this case, the lady) of the hall was having words with someone else.

"Had you too much sun today on that high wall, that you feel faint?" Gimli almost doubted he had heard the words, so quietly had they been pitched. He looked up at the taller Elf, and could only see the faintest motion of his lips by examining closely the face he was so familiar with. "For I know that Dwarven solicitousness comes only from their efforts to conceal their own weaknesses," Legolas murmured softly.

Gimli glared, recognizing the neat trap. He could not protest the insult to Dwarven manners without saying they were weak, but no more could he protest the insult to their strength without belittling Dwarven hospitality and politeness. He scowled, and saw the edge of Legolas's mouth twitch in amusement. "Better than the Elves," he began, but stopped at an unspoken signal, although he was careful to file the rest of his words away for future use.

A slight tilt of the Elf's head and a minute eyebrow twitch told Gimli that the interview between Éowyn and the messenger had ended. He quirked an eyebrow of his own in question, but Legolas gave a tiny shake of his head. While too well-mannered to deliberately eavesdrop, Elven senses were acute and Gimli knew his friend had heard every quiet word spoken. However, he was not about to disclose them. Even if it had been nothing more than the weather—or something as dire as an approaching army—he would let Éowyn tell them or not as she saw fit. A plague on the stiff necks of the Elves, Gimli thought with a wry grin.

Éowyn re-rolled the scroll she had been handed as she walked towards her friends while the messenger was led away for food and rest. Legolas carefully assumed a look of curious interest, pretending that he knew no more of what had been said than Gimli did.

Éowyn's expression was composed as well, although her eyes shone. "My Lord Faramir has sent word that he will be spending far more time in Ostad than he and King Aragorn thought, and he wishes for me to join him there at once. I would—"

Before she could continue, Gimli interrupted with a grin. "Say the word, then, my lady; when do we leave? I—"

Legolas cut off his friend by surreptitiously stomping on his foot. Through the Dwarf's thick boots, it was unlikely that Gimli had felt more than the faintest touch, but it drew his attention enough that Legolas could give him a glare that said, we were not invited, and bide him to hold his tongue. The Elf turned to Éowyn and began smoothly, "what Gimli says in his own crude manner is, we hope that you will allow us to escort you to Ostad, so that your passage may be unhindered and perhaps lightened by our company." The gentle stress he put on the word our showed his disbelief that the company of a Dwarf could lighten anything, but hopefully that of an Elf would make up for it. Gimli saw the implication as easily as Éowyn did and opened his mouth with a retort.

Éowyn spoke before he could, hiding her grin. "I would greatly appreciate it, and would prevail upon you to accompany me further, into the city itself, for I would not see you make the effort of the journey only to part company from you at the gates."

Legolas shook his head. "Lady, we would never intrude thus," he began, leaving the woman to wonder just how acute Elvish senses really were, and what he might have noticed about her.

She stopped him, shaking her head. "It would be no intrusion," she assured them. "To be honest, my friends, Faramir will be oft busy with his duties, and I fear I shall have little company there."

Legolas and Gimli exchanged a glance, checking that they were in agreement. "We would be honored, my lady," the Elf said for both of them with a slight bow.

Éowyn was about to thank them when Gimli's face suddenly fell. He groaned, and they looked at him askance. "This means horses, does it not?" he asked unhappily.

Éowyn and Legolas exchanged a look, lips twitching as they tried not to laugh. "If you fear you are not up to it," Legolas began solicitously, but Gimli cut him off.

"Let's turn the beasts out, then," he growled with a sigh and stomped out of the hall.

…………….

A little over a week ago, Faramir had been in Minas Tirith, receiving secret orders from his king. To all appearances, Aragorn was sending Faramir on a simple mission, more to give the two men time apart after a bitter argument than to accomplish anything of true necessity. Aragorn had insisted that Gondor's merchants should trade only where Gondor had official relations, and Faramir had said the traders should be free to barter where they wished, so long as they did not rely on Gondor's protection once they had left its reach and borders behind. Tempers had flared over the simple disagreement, and in anger Aragorn had ordered his Steward to take a few men and inspect the beacon fires in the surrounding area.

When Aragorn walked through the door into the small map-room, the wrath that had frightened the watching citizens was replaced by mirth. Faramir rose and bowed to his king with a smile, and the two men had exchanged very pleased grins.

"Remind me, lord," Faramir spoke wryly, "to never make you angry. Even pretended rage had me near retreating in terror."

Aragorn smiled wolfishly and responded, "your own wrath was fearsome to behold, Faramir. When you went for your sword-hilt I very nearly feared you had forgotten the ruse and were going to run me through."

Faramir laughed. "And have her majesty's vengeance? No thank thee, highness; you forget, I have seen the speed of the Elves, and have no desire to taste their steel."

The two men laughed, and Aragorn indicated that Faramir could sit. He poured wine for them both, then joined his Steward at the age-darkened table. "Now," he said, spreading out a large scroll on which Anórien was drawn in detail, "here is the path that I suggest. You can follow the Great West Road to here; it will look to all appearances as if you are on your way to the first beacon."

Faramir leaned forward. "We'll make camp and pretend to retire," he suggested, "then ride out under the cover of darkness. Anyone trailing us ought to lose us in the night, and if we duck into the forest it could take them days to pick up our trail."

Aragorn nodded; both of them were accustomed to the wilds, and to both tracking and being tracked. They respected each other's skill enough to exchange their thoughts on the journey with no regard to rank or orders—at the moment, they were both Rangers, picking a way through the wilderness.

"From there, you ought to be able to proceed relatively straight to Ostad. Have your men keep alert, and try to avoid contact with anyone—but not too hard. You're wary merchants, not trained Rangers." Faramir nodded agreement. "Be sure to hide your Gondorian insignia in the forest; burn what you can, bury what you can't."

"It won't be found," Faramir assured him. "We'll become traders overnight, I promise you."

Aragorn grinned. "A Steward of Gondor, travelling as a lowly merchant man. What your father would say…"

Faramir smiled wryly. "I doubt it would be complimentary, my liege. Especially were he to learn that it was your plan I divest myself of my rank."

Aragorn laughed, and after a moment Faramir joined in, their "argument" vanished into memory—and the gossip of the city, which was right where they wanted it…

…………….

Legolas found Gimli outside the stables, balefully locking eyes with the gelding the stablehands had led out for the two of them to ride. Remembering Arod—and the trouble he had caused for the Gondorian stables—they had chosen another spirited creature for the Elf. It was now snorting at Gimli and pawing the ground. While Arod and the Dwarf had learned to tolerate each other (thanks to careful nudging from the Elf), Gimli would never like horses, and Legolas could see that enmity had already been established between these two.

He grinned and quickly hid it. Putting down his and Gimli's things by the side of the stables, he greeted the horse softly and laid a hand on its nose. The horse wore only a plain rope halter to keep it tied to the fence, for Legolas rode in the manner of his people—with neither bridle nor saddle. Despite having been unlucky enough to have experienced the riding of both Elves and men, the Dwarf had no preference. There was nothing that could make bouncing on the back of a horse better. Gimli transferred his glare to the Elf.

"They say its name," he related with displeasure, "is Holdwyn."

"Mae govannen, Holdwyn," Legolas greeted him again. He spoke something in Sindarin too quietly for Gimli to hear, and the horse quieted.

Gimli scowled. "I assume you have my things safely stowed in there, then?" He crossed his arms and nodded at the light packs.

"And your axes are all there as well," Legolas assured him. He glanced around. "Perhaps you ought to put them on," he suggested lightly. "For ease of carrying."

Gimli looked at his friend sharply and saw that the strange note to the Elf's voice had not been his imagination. He raised his eyebrows, asking, you expect trouble?

Legolas twitched a shoulder in reply and fastened his ageless gaze on his friend; he felt no darkness, had no foreboding—but it was wise to be cautious.

Gimli snorted, feeling they had nothing to fear. Legolas indicated the stableyard with a glance and a jerk of his eyebrows. Gimli looked around, and realized for the first time that Éowyn's horse, Windfolla, was the only other one prepared, and no one seemed inclined to ready any others. He turned back to the Elf, questioning.

Legolas's lips thinned and he gave his head a tiny shake. He had suggested travelling with a small guard, but Éowyn had felt that the three of them were sufficient for the journey. The Elf grimaced slightly. He had pushed as hard as he dared, but he had had to back down for fear that Éowyn would refuse to allow even the two of them to accompany her. Gimli shrugged; he doubted more would be needed…but he secured his axes nonetheless. Only to keep the Elf from being twitchy, of course.

Éowyn came out then, giving a few last instructions to the man she was leaving in charge of Ithilien. The Dwarf could see that the men were as displeased at the size of their lady's escort as the Elf was. Gimli frowned. Were not he and Legolas each the equal of at least ten men? Besides, the Lady Éowyn was hardly lacking in skill or valor, for all that she had changed her focus from cultivating her swordsman—in this case, woman—ship, to cultivating plants. They had no cause to fear.

Legolas, having finished settling the horse, turned to Gimli. With ill-disguised dislike, the Dwarf clambered onto the horse's back, far less gracefully than the Elf's smooth vault, but more skillfully that his kinsmen could have managed.

While Éowyn was occupied in settling herself and her mount, Legolas turned his head to speak quietly to Gimli. His voice was so low that the Dwarf had to strain to hear it, and he made a mental note to remind his friend later that not everyone had the ears of an Elf—but he didn't want to kick him now and risk being tossed off the creature he was gingerly straddling.

"Lady Éowyn, I feel," whispered Legolas, "wishes an adventure. She is not unhappy, but she has been confined here while others travel by their duties or their whims. She knows this is like to be naught but a simple ride, yet wishes not to constrain herself with a large group of protectors, wanting to enjoy the travel freely while she yet may. And I believe that her emotions are now in flux—"

Gimli waited a moment, certain that Legolas meant to say more, but the Elf turned forward and waited in silence for Éowyn. Puzzled, Gimli tried to figure out why the Elf should so suddenly fall silent, as if he had said more than he should. Granted, his insights or inklings or whatever they were about the lady's desires were not precisely complimentary, but they were hardly things that should not be said, under the circumstances. Elves, he thought disparagingly, and rolled his eyes.

A moment later he was clinging desperately to Legolas's thin waist as the horse shot forward, and all ponderings save the wonder of when he had lost his sanity were swept from Gimli's head.

…………….

As the sun sank from the sky, the two horses slowed, their riders searching for a good campsite. The one riding double pointed, and they turned the two steeds from the road. The two fairer and taller companions swung from their horses with ease; the shorter one seemed more to tumble from his mount.

That shorter one was Gimli the Dwarf, and after nearly a full day of clinging to the back of a horse while an Elf and a woman of Rohan raced happily across the road and fields, his mood was far from benevolent, particularly towards horses and the riders thereof.

Those riders were Legolas, Prince of Eryn Lasgallen, and Éowyn, Lady of Ithilien. Éowyn hobbled her horse, Windfolla, but Legolas merely spoke to the mount he and Gimli had shared, and Holdwyn whickered as if he understood before joining the other animal in browsing among the grasses off the Great West Road.

Gimli scowled at the horses and gave them a wide berth as he collected dry brush and wood from the outskirts of Druadan Forest. Éowyn took Legolas aside for a quiet word.

"Be not upset with me, my friend," she spoke urgently, "for I would not have a shadow on our journey, which should be rather full of joy."

"Nay, lady," said Legolas, "I am angered not. It is your decision what sort of guard to bring; assuredly, you know these lands better than I. Still, I would yet caution you, not all the foes of the White City, or of the Horse Lords, have been driven from the lands, and as we ride further from Minas Tirith the protection of the citadel will wane. It is possible that orcs scurry still about the lands, avoiding detection, and we are but a day's ride from Emyn Arnen. Should you wish to bring a safer number, I will gladly take word while you sleep, and have them here by the morn's first light…" He stopped, seeing her face close at his words and, with a silent sigh, gave up on the safety numbers would bring to the woman's journey. He bowed to her slightly, acknowledging his defeat. "And yet as it is your choice, I will say no more about it, my lady. Come, let us aid Gimli in preparing the night's camp, 'ere we find it burnt to ash around us."

Gimli was striking the fire as they approached. His low grumbling served as a counterpoint to the high, winding tune Legolas began to sing in his native tongue. Neither of his companions could understand the words he sang, but even the Dwarf felt the cares of the day ease with the gentle music, although he would never have admitted to it.

The three travelers shared a brief dinner around the fire, and afterwards Éowyn sang a short chant of the Rohirrim. Gimli's musical contribution to that night were his snores, for he wrapped himself in his gray cloak with an oath against horses after Windfolla and Holdwyn joined the song. Legolas took the first watch, which they set more from habit than necessity. Shrouded in his pale cloak of Lórien as twilight turned to night, the Elf might have disappeared into the dimness were it not for the gentle hum of his voice in the shadows proving he was still there.

Reviewer Responses:

Laiquendi – Oh yeah, that's me, awesome-willpower person. Yup. Oh, I'm going to have quite a bit of fun with those two. Must remember not to dissolve into banter all the time, though…difficult, difficult… And yes, rancid food definitely helps when one is engaged in a food fight of the magnitude of that of the forums. Sugar-highs are good, too, though; nutella? ;)

Deana – Another dance! Hee hee, I'm going to have to start throwing roses or something! And thanks for telling me to read those, they were great!

Templa Otmena – Aw, I'm sorry, you're already behind! lol Isn't that just too amusing? ;) I'm sorry to hear about RL, it does that sometimes…doesn't it know we have more important things to deal with? Cliff-hangers? Me? gasp! But my dear, you must know, when rubbing your hands together with glee you have to cackle. Practice it with me: Nya-ha-ha… (patented Wicked Witch of the West style cackling!) Glad you're enjoying!

Aranna – Happy birthday again! I hope somebody bought you an Elf! ;P The banter…heh…well, um, I happen to be a, er, sarcastic, bantering individual and…well…it just sort of comes…heh heh? Yep, you guessed it! Not much of a "secret," is it? The fun part is seeing how long the men will remain oblivious! ;) Definitely convenient, o-yah. bobs head affirmatively. Ostad means literally "twocity"—creative, no? Heh. And thanks for pointing that out! Rhys blows a kiss.

ForeverFaramir – Yay, intriguing! And yep again, pregnant she is! Tell away, just don't let the boys know—that would spoil the game, now wouldn't it? ;) About Faramir—he'll be coming back for a bit soon, don't worry! Er…actually, maybe you should worry…after all, if he's not in the story I can't do anything to him…um, not that I would…I mean, he's in no danger or…I think I'll shut up now…

Avalon – Heh heh, yep, lots of guessing and all of it right! As for Faramir…well, see above… ;) Oh, and I'm glad you like that story! Hey, there's an idea—everyone, go read "Beyond This World" by Thunder Tiger, it's literally tear-inducing and the most wonderful story in the world! Go now, shoo!

East Coastie – Hee hee, the Elf and the Dwarf are so much fun, aren't they? Oh, so, er, Faramir's your favorite then, huh? Um…how about if you don't look at the above two responses, yeah? Thanks…

flowerbee1 – Quite welcome. Nutella to wash it down? OOPS! Thanks for that one…um, don't really know where I got that from…er…yeah, I'll just sort of blush deeply and offer deep and embarrassed apologies and thanks, how's that? Hannon le! blushes!

Jebb – Deliberate, huh? Well, if you say so… Enjoy the synamic duo! ;P

Lil Pippin – Ah, a talented multi-tasker! Well done! And wow, thanks; I'm really thrilled that this is good enough to hold your attention. How about if I promise to insert enough humor with the interactions of the synamic duo (and everyone else, of course!) to keep you interested? ;) And good luck with that CD thing…let me know how it worked out for you…although I suppose if anyone's going to manage it, it will be someone with Hobbit feet…

Wow, thank you all so much! Great response, I really really appreciate it! Hugs, nutella, and hot chocolate for you all! …what, bribery you say? Nonsense! I would never bribe my reviewers! Torture them with cliffies, maybe, but never bribe them… ;) Namarië!

P.S. is anyone else having trouble with little "9;" showing up in front of every paragraph when they update...or am I just lucky?