I need to write something for some characters... This may or may not be a oneshot. Convince me to go on.

"Hand me the blasted ax. How else am I supposed ta get ya out of this mess?" Gimli's voice posed a question better left unanswered. After all, he did have an ax. "I said, hand me the bloody ax!" His voice rose to a bellow as his tall, fair companion dug through the pile of weapons.

"Which one is yours?" The Elf's voice was calm and gentle, usually a calming influence. Today, though, it just served to make the Dwarf angrier.

"Any bloody ax, you fool!" Gimli held tightly to the rope attached to the Elf's waist. "Hurry up! The rope is fraying."

Legolas gently tossed an ax up to Gimli. It was notched and rusted, but it would do. "Here. Don't drop it. I'd rather not end up like your father's friend Bifur. It seems unpleasant, and I don't think I could speak Dwarvish." He chuckled, sounding like windchimes with a gentle breeze.

The ax flew through the air and Gimli caught it, cursing as it nearly nicked his his fingers. He began using it to move the rocks aside and chop through the log preventing the Elf from climbing back up. "It's clear. Hurry up. No' only is the rope fraying, but my grip is slippin'."

"Don't drop me. I swear I will come back to haunt you and your kin if you do." Legolas looked a bit flustered, or as flustered as an Elf can look. Swiftly, he gracefully clambered up the rock wall and leapt to stand beside his companion. "I suppose I should thank you for saving me, but this was just payment for one of the times I saved you."

Gimli sighed and stepped back away from the cliff edge after chucking the rusty ax over it. "You know, someday I'm goin' to bea' ya in a fight."

"That isn't likely. Isn't fighting how we got into this mess in the first place?" Legolas sighed. "Where should we go next?"

A cloud covered the sun, throwing them into shadows for a moment. Gimli shivered slightly, remembering the Nazgul and their steeds. "Let's get away from this blasted place. It isn't very pleasant and it reeks of orc blood." They had killed some orcs, and one had managed to knock the Elf prince off balance. "Truthfully, I'm not sure how you fell off tha' cliff in the first place. It seems a bit odd ta me."

Legolas sighed again. "Let's leave." His tone turned sharp and he pointedly avoided the question. The two turned away from the cliff and walked away from the scene of death. It wasn't a pleasant place. The Elf limped slightly, and he was a bit less graceful than usual.

A glance beside him told Gimli all he needed to know. "You're hurt. We need to ten' ta that."

"I'm fine," retorted Legolas, walking still faster. His voice was the sound of bells and breaking glass.

Gimli stopped. "I'm not goin' anywhere 'till you bind that and fix it up."

With a muffled muttering, the Elf stopped and sat gracefully on the ground. The wound made itself known on his leg by a slow, but steady, seeping of blood. He looked around for his pack, only to remember it was at the bottom of the cliff. Gimli, seeing his glance around, tore off a strip from his tunic.

"We need ta stop at a town or village to ge' more supplies. All of 'em are at the bottom of a cliff." Gimli handed the strip of fabric to Legolas. "I know it isn't the cleanest, but Elf wounds don't get infected, right?"

Legolas shook his head. "They do. Just not normally."

I've decided to pull a cliffhanger on my readers. Please, don't threaten me, but I need some gentle persuasion to make me write on. I would use Goldie Gamgee's tactic, and hold Pippin in my closet, but she has him. I'll just put Gandalf in my closet and hold him captive until people review.