Chapter 5:

This, with some stretch of imagination could be referred to as a fair game, Legolas reflected - if one could ignore the fact that one of the two hares that they had tracked down looked like it had a run-in with... an axe; which was exactly what had happened. He glanced at the prey in question and grinned. "I wonder if there is any eatable meat left on that hare or whether you crushed every part of the poor animal. I am disappointed my friend. I had the impression that your aim were better than that."

Gimli whuffled, in fact a little embarrassed to have missed his aim and instead of having a nice rabbit to roast over a spit, he had a, well, he had to admit it wasn't very appetizing to look at. He was holding the hare as far from himself as his arm reached to avoid his garments to be spoiled with blood. "I aimed cleanly at the neck, but it hopped, and--I cannot help it if the poor creature hopped just then and got all...well, we both brought down prey at the same moment, so this contest is a draw. We never stipulated," Gimli added, no longer whuffling, "that it was a contest of 'pretty' kills." He sighed. "We can cook yours. I better leave mine to the forest creatures who won't mind the, er, lack of--a wolf would have done worse!" Gimli looked a bit testy.

Legolas laughed. The whole adventure, the free air, being away from walls, eyes, whispers and worries felt good. It also made him careless. That at least was how he would call it later: carelessness. Otherwise he would never have left his friend's side.

"We will make use of it." he said. It simply would not feel right to do a hunt and afterwards leave the animal for the predators. "But for now let us follow your plan and cook this beautiful and whole hare. Would you like to collect some wood while I prepare it?"

Gimli looked up at Legolas and slightly furrowed his brow. "I suppose it is the best plan, since you would fault my method of preparation. You take care of that, and I will get wood. And if I manage it, I might even manage to bring back a perfectly, er, another hare, since I am hungry. I hear a stream beyond the woods a ways, and fish like streams." He suddenly beamed when he got an idea. "I will reconnoiter, and if the fish look good, we can finish off this adventure with some good old fashioned fishing. I bet I can catch more than you." With that he took up his axe and headed off in the direction of some trees, in search of wood.

Legolas followed him with his eyes for a moment, but then concentrated on preparing the hare for the cooking. There was enough dry wood around that he could expect his friend to return soon. By that time, he planned to be finished with his task also.

Dwarven pride was something to recon with, an Gimli's pride, intentionally or not, whether he dwelt on it or not, had taken a solid beating during the last several days. So now he felt the urge to prove, if only to himself, that he was as capable as any dwarf – or elf. In short, he wanted to surprise Legolas.

The stream was not very far, but over a slight hill where the ground was littered with rocks that were only loosely connected with the loose earth. It was a fertile are and the stream, if memory served Gimli right, had shown signs of a good population of fish. With a little luck he could quickly catch enough to contribute an equal share to their meal.

Gimli rarely had had use for it, but he had carried the fishing line and a few precious hooks with him since he had left his home to travel. So he extracted it--fine spruce root, soaked to make it strong, with a braiding around it of fine thread. It was not too heavy, and not too light. With it he could catch and haul in a big fishie, or a smaller one.

This stream, under his educated eyes, had a fairly respectable mass of fish in any of several places--and the underbank across the river was just exactly one of those places. He carefully knotted a hook into place, and made a cast, the only bait the little bit of pale feather tied to the hook. In a moment he was pulling in a fish larger than the hare Legolas was readying.

"Well, that was easy," he said, with a smile. In less than ten minutes he had provided more fare for their feast than had the Elf. "I will catch one more, which should rub it in nicely," he whispered to himself, and in another ten minutes, he had that second fish. He stowed his line and hook, and then dropped the fish on the bank, for there was an Elf standing there, watching him. How long he had been there, Gimli had no idea.

"Well?" he asked, annoyed. "So ye can sneak up on a Dwarf who is busy fishing. Are you so proud of that?" His lesser axe, snatched up instinctively and held in ready stance, now dropped lower, although he still held it in his hand.

The elf was one of the guards the patrolled the area around the stronghold. Very little trouble was expected here, and so the patrols were neither very numerous nor overly careful. There was still very little that escaped their attention, though. Arthenias was his name, and he stood there with that deceptively casual stance that Gimli had often seen in Legolas, apparently relaxed but ready to draw and fire an arrow in a moment's notice - and he was warily eyeing the axe in Gimli's hand.

"We do not sneak through our land." he said, now coming nearer. "If you do not hear normal steps, that is not of my concern. What are you doing here, Dwarf, alone and unguarded?"

"For all your keen eyesight, you missed the fact that I was fishin, laddie? Ach, yer no so mighty and elevated, except for your height. And if you know anything at all," he added with the dry but pointed humor he was noted for, "you know my name is Gimli, and I rarely am far from the Lord Legolas, who I expect you might know by name at least." He felt annoyed. "Really, do you act daft on purpose, or just because you think it suits Elves? Because, I must be honest, daft is what I would have t' call ye based on your actions and words. Aiii! My fihsies!"

They had been strung on a line, ready for carrying back to camp, and since they had been dropped so unmindfully, the land's contours slowly had one of them pulling the other slowly through the grass toward the bank. Gimli caught them both just as they tumbled over the embankment, which unfortunately gave way under his weight--and he found himself flailing as he tried not to fall backwards into the water.

Lightning fast reflexes kicked in and the elf took a step forward and reached out, just in time to grab one of Gimli's arm in the moment when he was about to finally fall over the edge. He was a tad too slow, though, and by the time he started pulling back Gimli was far enough over the edge that the effort only slowed Gimli's fall, but made Arthenias lose his footing as well.

A moment later they hit the ground. Water splashed, but it was not deep enough to ease the impact. Arthenias gave a strange sound, something between a gasp and a gurgle, and even after a long moment the elf made no move to take his weight off Gimli, on whom he had partially landed.

"Ach!" said Gimli, wondering at the actions of this strange Elf. "You can get off me any time, Laddie, although I do thank ye for trying to keep me from..." Gimli tried to move his axe hand, and realized that while it moved, the axe did not. He knew immediately what had happened, and bit off a curse. His fishes forgotten, he changed his hold on the Elf and kept his voice soft. "Easy now, let me help you. Just keep breathing."

He managed to heft the slight form onto the banks, and looked at his axe deeply embedded into the ribcage, which was soaked with bright red, frothy blood. "Oh no," he whispered, for this wound would prove mortal. "There now, Lad, look up at the pretty sky, and think about all whom you love." Then he roared, "LEGOLAS!" with all the fear and regret he felt.

The first moment of shock had worn off, or had it just been disbelief. Whatever it had been that had kept him from feeling the full pain and fear was gone now. He could barely breathe, left alone move or speak, and he knew that his condition was bad, and worsening rapidly. He heard the words, and he looked up in the sky and breathed a wordless goodbye to Middle Earth as his fëa departed to Mandos.

Legolas was getting bored. He had finished preparing the hare up to the point of having the fireplace and everything ready, and only missing the wood. His back was propped against the nearest tree and he was uninspiredly chipping away at a piece of wood when his ears picked up the dim sound of Gimli's voice being carried on the wind.

Gimli! Even as dim as the sound was at the distance he could hear the urgency in his friend's voice, and in a moment he was on his feet, running, with no more tought of teh hare, the fireplace or a meal.

But Legolas was not the only one who had heard the shout, and after only moments three more guards appeared at the riverbank, one with his sword draw. The others had their bows ready, arrows knocked and drawn. The moment they saw Gimli next to the injured Arthinias they carefully aimed at him. "You. Dwarf. Get away from him!"

Gimli looked down at the vacant eyes of the dead Elf he still cradled in his arms. One hand was gory from blood, and his axe...well, he had never felt so bad. He knew accidents happened, but he had watched the soul of an immortal pass on, and it had shaken him. He had heard and seen the other three Elves approach, and not moved a bit, except to look sadly up at them.

When ordered to get away from the fallen one, he very gently laid him on the grass, and stepped to the side, keeping both hands in sight. "What was his name?" he asked, wondering briefly where Legolas was. "I wish to say a prayer."

His question was ignored. While two were keeping an eye on him the third hurried to kneel next to the fallen elf, but all he could do was sigh and announce the terrible truth to his comrades. "He is dead." Grief was in his eyes, and rage as he now approached Gimli. "You will have to answer for this. Drop your weapons."

There was not much point in trying to explain what had happened; Gimli knew this. Dwarf killed Elf--what more would these three need to know? So silently he complied, dropping every weapon, even the smaller throwing knives hidden in his boots, to the ground, and stepping away from them. He began quietly to intone a dirge for the dead, waiting for whatever happened next.

"Follow us." The elf who had taken up the role as leader of the three ordered, and if anything his voice had only become colder. All three were clearly still in shock, but only the harder for it. While two lead Gimli away towards the stronghold one stayed behind to guard their fallen comrade.

It was hard to follow the call. Why had Gimli not called a second time? That thought made Legolas feel even more worried than he already was, but he could not speed up his movement any further. After first starting to run blindly he had soon figured that if he wanted to find his friend he needed to follow the trail, something that slowed him down considerably.

It was minutes before he reached the stream, and he gasped at what he found there. "What happened?" he asked, skidding to a halt and kneeling down where the guard was keeping watch, looking utterly helpless. Legolas knew him. He was only a little older than himself, and he even recognized that disbelieving look in his eyes. Death was a constant threat, but it rarely ventured this deep into Mirkwood. Instinctively Legolas reached out and squeezed the other elf's shoulder, even as he took in the lifeless form, the wound, still seeping blood and with the axe where it had hit. What in Middle Earth..?

"The dwarf killed him." Came the answer, and Legolas was sure that the voice was trembling with more than plain grief. There was also much anger there. "They are taking him before the King now."

Legolas paled. This could not be. He did not believe it. Not Gimli. He remembered the desperate call that had brought him here.. "Valar."

Legolas jumped up. He had to reach the palace before the others did.

tbc