I hesitate just as we are about to go back into the caves. I am not yet quite ready to leave the night and the stars but I do not wish to further anger Gimli by saying so. However he seems to sense my need for he pats my shoulder and says, "stay out awhile longer if ye need Lamb, but not too long mind."

I promise to come in soon and after offering me another kiss on the brow he goes on inside. I walk over to the Deeping Wall and lean back against it gazing up into the night sky and allowing the light of the stars to help heal my hurts. Oh I am not talking of physical pain. The few swats that Gimli administered do not even sting now, and while my arm is still itching it is not unbearable. No it is not physical rather it is emotional wounds that smart and hurt.

I wanted so much to prove my own depth of commitment to my dwarf and it seemed the perfect way to do it once I had seen what Gimli had done for me. But I have to accept that it is not going to be, and a small part of me is grateful for that fact. I am not afraid of pain. I have been wounded many times in the service of my Adar. It is not that. No if anything was needed to show me that elves are not suited to inking it is the way my skin reacted to the spilt ink. Most of the blisters have subsided now, but it showed clearly that tattooing would prove unpleasant and likely it would have indeed caused infection as Thorûr said it might. But having said all of that I am now left without any way to show my loyalty and to do honor to my guardian and there are other things as well.

My conscience is pricking me over my having forced Greirr into giving his word to me to remain silent before telling him what I intended to do. I know dwarves take oath giving very seriously and it must have been a difficult decision for Greirr to go against his word and speak to Gimli. I should not have asked it of him and I know it. What is more by doing all I have done is to prove to him and to me that I am still a foolish youngling and he has indeed passed me by in terms of maturity for he was willing to forgo his oath to protect me from my own stupidity and then instead of acknowledging it I felt the need to glower and scowl at him as if what happened was his fault instead of mine.

I am hardly coming out of this debacle very well am I? I sigh and wonder how many more yeni must go by before I finally grow up. In the twenty or so years since the Ring War I have founded and led my own colony in Ithilien and yet I still find myself being brought to book over choices and decisions in my personal life that only the shortest period of reflection would have shown me how very wrong and stupid they were.

But Gimli's words to me that he knows my commitment to him do offer me a small crumb of comfort. I am fortunate indeed to have his wisdom and love available to me aye and his care also. I sink down next to the wall and rest my elbows on my knees while I ponder on how I can show my appreciation now that my plans to be inked have all gone awry.

I sit for some time and I am so distracted that I do not realize that someone is standing watching me until Mam speaks.

"It is time ye came in Lambkin."

I scramble to my feet and hasten to her side.

"I am sorry I lost track of time."

"It is easily done and no doubt ye had plenty to think about," she pats my cheek. "Do not looks so forlorn Legolas love. These things often happen for the best in the end and I would not have liked to have seen that beautiful skin of yours spoiled by inking and I suspect your Ada would not have been very happy about it either."

I give a grimace, but cannot deny that her words are factual, "No I do not think he would have been pleased."

Mam gives that lovely rich laugh of hers.

That is quite an understatement Lambkin. Knowing your Adar as I now do, he would likely have been incandescent and rightly so."

"I only wished to show honor to Gimli"

"And that is a worthy ambition and I am sure there are ways ye may do so that Gimli and your ada will approve of."

"I suppose so," I mutter gloomily.

Mam looks at me closely her dark eyes seeing beyond my present gloom and despondency.

"What is it that is at the heart of your present unhappiness Lambkin? Come tell me. I can see there is more to this whole thing than ye have let on."

"It is just that … well … I hoped… thought that perhaps…oh what does it matter!" I burst out. "All I have achieved is to reinforce everyone's opinions that I am indeed little more than a foolish child who is incapable of taking care of his own needs."

"Here now," Mam responds "no one here thinks such a thing of ye."

"I think it."

My tone is bitter for that is indeed at the heart of this matter. For I have chosen to live out in the mortal world and every day there is some reminder or another of the fact that because of my race I will remain eternally youthful, burdened with all the uncertainties and tendency to make stupid mistakes that is the lot of youth while others move on and mature.

Today I have managed to frighten and anger Gimli, upset poor Greirr by putting him in a situation where he had to break his word and distress Mam and the rest of my family and all with the best of intentions. My youth it seems to me to be a curse rather than anything else.

Mam reads me as easily as her son does. She gives me a smile.

"Ye can no more change your age than I can grow pointy ears, Lambkin and ye forget for all you dislike your youth ye are a famed warrior, ye run your own demesne, ye consort with King's and sit on the councils of the wise. That does not sound to me like someone who is seen as a foolish child."

"But I still make stupid choices."

"Aye and ye will likely make more, no matter how old ye become. We all make mistakes, Lad. Age does not necessarily confer wisdom either. Look at that pair of fools Dorin and Floin living in squalor as they do. I have just been down there and given them the sharp edge of my tongue. I told them I will be back on the morrow and they had better have cleaned that place up by then."

Mam's militancy makes me smile. I would have enjoyed seeing her giving them the benefit of her views on their life style and so I tell her.

She laughs and kisses my cheek.

"Come now that is better. Let your unhappiness go sweeting. Ye had good intentions, the best of intentions indeed, aye and a great love for my lad and that counts more in my eyes than anything and the depth of that love and commitment has nothing to do with age or lack of it. It comes from a good heart and that is something that no amount of maturity can change. Learn from your choices today and then move on. That is all any of us can do."

She gives an admonishing tug on my braid and as she does so I realize that there might be a way of marking my respect and commitment to Gimli after all.

I sleep well perhaps unsurprisingly after all of the emotional turmoil of the last day, but despite this I wake feeling out of sorts as Samwise would say. It is not that I am ill, for elves do not become ill, just not quite right is all. My arm itches, and curbing the desire to scratch is difficult but I put some of the salve the Elrondionnath make for me on it and it eases the discomfort considerably although I admit it still looks slightly swollen and red. But I do not wish to bring up a subject that seems to have been if not forgotten at least forgiven by mentioning it, so I remain silent for it will no doubt clear up soon enough I do not doubt.

Gimli welcomes me into the main room and asks whether I slept well. I am able to reply honestly yes, which makes the fact that I am still tired a little odd. However Gimli seems not to notice for he bids me sit down to eat all the while outlining his plans for my day.

"Good. I have more meetings over whether Erkenbrand and I ought to fund the building of one of the barges. But I also wanted to check on the water flow through the locks. But you and Greirr should be able to manage that between you. You have worked with me often enough to know what to do."

Any other time I would be happy to be given such a responsible task but not now.

"Greirr?" I query.

"Aye, he knows how to handle the equipment and ye can get to places without difficulty that a dwarf could not reach tree squirrel that ye be. Do ye have a problem with that?"

I do but now is not the time to speak of it. Gimli has obviously decided that by pushing us together it will give us an opportunity to mend our friendship. I am not so certain.

Greirr seems uncertain as well. We spend much of the morning walking on eggshells, another of Sam's favorite sayings, and it is not until I almost fall headfirst into an empty lock after slipping on a wet lock gate that the tension between us is broken. Greirr grabs my belt and hauls me upright and in between my telling him that there was not the least need for his interference and him telling me I would have nosedived into several inches of sludge had he not grabbed hold of me, we suddenly find ourselves laughing and it seems the most natural thing in the world to then offer my apologies for asking him to keep silent on something which he and I knew was very wrong.

"I did not wish to do it," he tells me, "but when I caught a whiff of Dorin's breath I knew that he was in no fit state to begin work on your tattoo."

"I knew it too," I admit, "but I was too stubborn not to say so. The room was filthy and their equipment likewise. When Thorûr told me of what could happen with unhygienic needles and conditions I realized I had, had a fortunate escape. I am sorry to have placed you in such an awkward position."

"Not half as awkward as yours must have been when Uncle Gimli caught up with you" he replies with a grin.

A tussle, which ends with both of us lying on the ground laughing, ensues and I give silent thanks that our friendship has survived this latest spat. I leave him at the entrance to the caves for he has work to go to and I take our findings back to Gimli's quarters where I intend to copy them out in a fair hand.

I find Mam seated by the fire, winding skein's of wool and I am immediately called upon to offer my hands to hold the wool as Mam winds. So I sit cross-legged at her feet and pick up the first skein. I do not mind for this is a task I have often fulfilled for Chi when I am at home and seeing the different colors of wool reminds me of what I hope to achieve for Gimli.

I ask Mam for some small lengths of wool to practice with and explain to her what I am hoping to achieve.
"I know now that I cannot have a tattoo but I have thought of a way I can honor Gimli. Each elven house has its own way of weaving their braids, and I thought if I could come up with a braid pattern that combined both elven and dwarvish knots and twists it would be something we could both wear with pride. Do you think Gimli would like that?" I ask a little anxiously.

Mam claps her hands "I think he would love it, as much for the thought behind it as for the symbolism it would portray. Ye want the wool to practice with I am guessing?"

I nod, "Yes, for I am hoping to achieve the effect of the dwarven eternity knot which will take some thinking about."

"Aye that it will. Why not tie the strands to the back of the chair here then ye can try the designs out as often as ye like. Gimli is not likely to be back for some time yet, for he has some work to do in his workshop and said not to look for him until dinner."

I frown at the wool in my hands, "Has it to do with the barges?"

Mam says she is not certain, but that it is something that has got her son all excited.

"He is worse than a child when he gets some idea or other and willna rest until he has put it down on paper or tried it out. Now ye go on with your plaiting and I will go and prepare for dinner." She kisses my brow as she rises and then she puts a hand there as well. "Ye are a trifle hot Lambkin. Ye are not sickening for something are ye?"

"Nay," I laugh, "elves do not get ill."

Mam sniffs, and demands that I put out my tongue, although how she can tell by that simple expedient if I am well or not I do not know. She seems reassured by it however and goes on her way to the kitchen and I let my shoulders slump a little, for truth to tell I am beginning to wish I had not eaten quite as much of Mam's excellent fruit bread as I did for my stomach is roiling and my vision is blurring to such an extent that I am having difficulty concentrating on the wool strands.

I decide that it might be wise to go outside and get some fresh air. I call through to Mam that I will not be long, and once again I make my way up to the Deeping Wall. I do begin to feel a little better with the sun on my face and a light breeze lifting my hair from my neck. I am still very hot however, and my arm is now throbbing. I roll up my shirt sleeve and see that the redness has spread from my forearm all the way up to my shoulder. My whole arm is swollen but the worse of whatever it is that is causing my discomfort seems to be centered about the inside of my right forearm and as I peer at it I see a tiny red line, like a scratch mark. I cannot think for a moment where it might have come from. But then I remember Floin waving that filthy needle about as he spoke with his brother and then the pandemonium as Gimli hammered on the door demanding admittance and the ink was spilt. I recall now the slight drag of a point across my skin, hardly more than a pinprick and of course when Thorûr examined my arm he looked only at the area where the ink had been spilt not underneath for why would he? That was not where the tattoo was to be drawn out.

Thorûr's words of warning over the dangers all come back to me. Have I somehow been infected or poisoned and if so what should I do about it? Well the obvious answer to that is to speak to Gimli or Mam or even Thorûr himself and seek their help but of course that would only lead to more unpleasantness and recriminations and I told you so's which seem to accompany anything like this and I would sooner avoid that if I can. I have the salve that the twins gave me that eased the itching this morning. Surely if I apply some more it will stop the infection spreading and my own natural ability to combat illness will do the rest.

Deciding this is the best course of action I go back into the cave system and reapply the Imladris salve to my arm. I am relieved to find that it does seem to work its magic once again and the discomfort ebbs to a point where I can all but ignore it. I spend the rest of the day writing up mine and Greirr's findings on our work of the morning and trying out different types of braid knots which I hope may turn out to be something like the eternity knot that Gimli used.

Our evening meal is a pleasant affair with Gimli in a very good mood, laughing jovially over Mam's description of her meeting with Floin and Dorin.

"Well I wouldn'a want to be in their boots then. Ye will be going back to check they have carried out their orders?"

"Ye may rely on it. Such squalor is totally unacceptable. But enough of that, now tell me how did your meeting with Lord Erkenbrand go?"

As Gimli regales us with his spirited retelling of his bargaining with the men of the Deep he waves his hands about to make a point and accidentally catches my arm causing me to catch my breath.

Of course Gimli notices. "Lamb, what is wrong?"

I try to appear nonchalant, stretching out my arm and flexing it. The pain flares but by dint of sticking my finger nails into my right fist I prevent myself from reacting "just a touch of cramp" I manage

"Cramp? What a bag of moonshine!"

But despite this Gimli seems to be prepared to let things go. He turns back to Mam continuing their conversation and I do my best to swallow down on the nausea and get a grip on my senses. After a few moments I have overcome the worst of the pain offer a conciliatory smile and make a pretense at least of eating the rest of my dinner aware that both Mam and Gimli are likely to be watching me.

But as soon as the table is cleared and Mam has gone into the kitchen Gimli demands to know what is really amiss.

"Ye look peaky to me, lad. Is it to do with your quarrel with Greirr? I had hoped if ye spent the morning together ye would soon be friends again for he had your best interests at heart Lamb."

I am tempted to accept this excuse but that would be unfair to Greirr and so I shake my head.

"No it is nothing to do with Greirr. We have made our peace and are friends again, and I also accept that my intention to get a tattoo was foolish beyond permission and I am glad it was put a stop to."

"Well, then that is good, but ye do look a trifle tired. It is not the sea longing come back is it? Mam said earlier she thought ye were looking peaky."
"No indeed, it is nothing like that. I am well enough. Let me get you the report I wrote up on the inspection we did this morning, Greirr said that there was quite a bit more silt than he had expected,"

I hurry to my chamber and once again apply the ointment which takes off the worst of the pain so I am hopeful that I will be able to get through the rest of the evening without giving Gimli further cause for alarm for I feel badly enough over all the trouble I have given him so far during this visit.

Somehow I get through the rest of the evening, although it becomes more and more difficult to hide my growing discomfort and I am relieved when Mam suggests that perhaps it is time for me to get some sleep.

I hurry through my ablutions and am already in bed when Gimli comes in to wish me good night. He brushes a strand of hair from my brow and kisses me then tucks the covers about my shoulders.

"Sleep well Lamb."

"I will do my best," I reply and let my eyes become unfocused as if I am preparing to step onto the dream path. I keep my breathing even and regular and eventually Gimli, who has been standing looking down at me, moves away from the bed, blows out the lantern and closes the door behind him. I lie for some time trying not to keep as still as possible as any movement sends throbbing pains up my inflamed arm. If things have not improved in the morning I promise myself I will tell Gimli what is wrong.

Despite the throbbing ache in my arm I do eventually fall asleep but my dreams are anything but restful. Nightmarish visions of a healers tent I once had the misfortune to enter after the Battle of the Pelennor Fields where men were having limbs amputated it is a sight I will never be able to erase and tonight their moans and cries of agony invade my mind. I see again the bloody table in the center of the tent and hear someone begging for mercy. I step forward to do my best to offer solace and to my horror I realize that this time I am the poor soul on the table and someone is hanging over me holding a saw in their hand.

"No!" I scream, "not my arm. Not my arm."