XVII

Companionable Silence

Day eased over the land like a grey fog, dropping dew over all that slumbered and watched. Legolas was refreshed by the cool touch of moisture, but Gimli grumbled and flipped up his hood. He eyed the Elf as if daring him to make a remark. Legolas said nothing, turning this way and that to scan the horizon for movement.

The hours wore on but the day got no warmer. As they had drawn closer to the three mighty peaks that Gandalf had declared were their landmarks, the wind seemed to bring down the winter with a fury. This day the wind seemed a little less, but just as cold.

Legolas looked toward where the hobbits lay sleeping. Building fires was ill-advised as the smoke would be visible for great distances in this open country, so the halflings had spread their blankets together and slept close to each other, keeping one another warm with their own bodies. Their cloaks and spare clothes were draped over them, but still they shivered a little, their faces bitten pink by the teething wind. Legolas cast a glance toward the Dwarf, who appeared to be gazing steadfastly away to the east, toward the mountains. Legolas unclasped his cloak and spread it over the hobbits to give them extra comfort.

Frodo's eyes opened as he felt the light touch of the Elven cloak cover him. He looked up into Legolas's face, offering a small smile of gratitude. Peregrin snuggled more closely to his older cousin on one side, while on the other, Samwise gave a gentle snore, his head on Frodo's shoulder.

Legolas bowed slightly, holding up a hand to warn Frodo not to wake the others. His soft voice was as smooth lullaby as he said, "Return to your needed rest, Bearer. The sun is just past the hour of dawn-greeting. There are many hours still to be counted before the next watch is called. Sleep again." Frodo nodded gratefully and closed his eyes. As his face smoothed into slumber again, Legolas saw that light shining within the Ring Bearer, as a candle shaded by a veil of water or a star viewed through a thin cloud.

Legolas resumed his watch over the land. There was no movement anywhere but the teasing of the grass by the sleepless wind. Not even a bird could be seen, and the winter had driven all insects deep into the earth. The quiet was absolute.

Gimli found the silence nearly maddening. As he watched, he spoke to himself inside his head, reciting the lines of the Fathers of the Dwarves as he had learned them at his father's knee. He crouched upon a high stone, where he could see all around, and to the casual observer would have appeared as a stone himself, until that observer got dangerously close to him. He carefully watched the camp and listened, for he knew his eyes were not so sharp as that dratted Elf, yet his ears could hear things just as sharply. But the only sounds he harked of nearby were the gentle breaths of the Companions in sleep, and the whine of the wind off of the mountains.

This wind did speak to the Dwarf, in a fashion that even the Elf could not understand. For stone and mountains were Gimli's folk, and he knew their languages well. What that wind spoke to him left him uneasy, and he shifted to cast his glances toward the mountains in the east and south more often; he had a feeling of being watched, of a groping intelligence, that was gradually growing in his mind.

"What is it?"

The Elf's soft words startled the Dwarf so violently he nearly lost his perch. Legolas laid a steadying hand on his shoulder, which Gimli glared at until he removed it.

"Can you not sense it?" he responded gruffly, but in a whisper. "The wind warns of hunger, of wary eyes. I smell tainted stone upon it... and blood."

"I have sensed something similar, but I cannot discover the direction it comes from." The Elf's eyes contained no humility or hubris; theirs was the watch. Theirs was the duty to protect their helpless companions.

"It comes from the east, from where we are bound," answered Gimli. "It is far away still, but as we draw closer, it will become more apparent. I warrant even your green nose will smell it by the time we reach those foothills," Gimli could not resist offering this small barb.

Legolas gave him a cool smile. "I am pleased to hear that we are in no immediate danger, other than being bored by the humour of a Dwarf. I will continue my vigilance... over there." Legolas walked away from Gimli.

Both Elf and Dwarf felt that they had the better of the exchange, so the argument was abandoned for a time. As the sun reached zenith, Legolas woke Aragorn and Merry, whose lot were next to watch. Legolas lay himself down next to Peregrin where Merry had been sleeping, keeping the small hobbit warm in his cousin's stead. Gimli laid himself happily against the stone where he had watched, aware that his tendency to snore might disturb the others.

After the Dwarf had fallen asleep Aragorn covered him with his cloak and took his vantage point. Very often, his gaze fixed on the mountains toward the east. He, too, sensed something waiting.