Khuzdul

As I made my way to the library the next day in the afternoon, butterflies of nervousness flew through my stomach. Though I suspected that Legolas could not yet have an answer about the woman in Rohan, who knew what was in the script?

Unlike usual, today I took the main entrance as an exception - after all, I had an official meeting today and no one would throw me out.

I had never been in the reading room before, but when I entered, I saw the elf immediately. He was standing at one of the back tables, far away from all the other visitors, not many of whom were sitting in the reading room anyway. A book in his hand, through which he was browsing, he had not yet noticed me. But Legolas was not alone, he had brought someone else with him: his dwarven friend!

He had sat down on one of the chairs and looked as if he would like to be anywhere but here. The backs of the chair cut into his torso and his forearm had half-wiped a book off the table when he turned to me.

I stifled a grin and walked toward both of them. Once I had gotten closer, the elf flipped the book he was holding shut. "I thought you weren't coming anymore."

"You said afternoon. It is afternoon." I raised an eyebrow. "If you have a specific time in mind, you should tell me next time."

"She has a point." The dwarf, visibly glad that the wait was finally over, stood up. "If I may introduce myself: I am Gimli, Glóin's son."

"Lord of the Glittering Caves," Legolas added with an indefinable glint in his eye.

Gimli's chest heaved proudly, and I could only guess that this was an inside joke between the two of them. Perhaps I would return to it later, now it was time to introduce myself. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Master Dwarf," I said, seeing the corner of Legolas' mouth curl into a smile, "I'm afraid I can't introduce myself that impressively. I am simply Aspen."

"Well then, simply Aspen," Gimli said, grinning, "I heard you need my help with a translation."

"Is that so?", I asked looking at the Elf who had now joined us. "I don't think I'm quite up to speed yet."

Legolas pointed to the scroll lying on the table behind Gimli. "As I was saying, there is a second script here in Minas Tirith that tells of an event like the ones you are searching for."

"But?"

"It is written in the language of my people," Gimli said. "In Khuzdul."

"Because it was dwarves who found the woman," Legolas explained. He and Gimli turned to the table and I followed them. The dwarf had positioned himself in front of the script, taking up so much space that Legolas had chosen to stand next to me. "Why is there a dwarven script here in Minas Tirith?", I asked. "I thought your people had their own historians, and thus places to keep such records."

"You are right," Gimli replied. "How the script found its way into the great archives of this city I cannot say, but if we do not find what we seek in it, there is a good chance of finding more information about this incident in the archives of the Iron Mountains."

The Iron Mountains? I quickly recalled the map of Middle Earth: the mountains Gimli spoke of were beyond the Greenwood. An eternity away. "I'm afraid I don't have the resources to make such a long journey," I said. "Perhaps we should focus on this writing first."

"As you wish." Gimli leaned forward, Legolas and I mimicking his movement almost automatically. As he did so, a strand of Legolas' hair touched my cheek. I had to swallow and took a step to the side.

The dwarf was humming to himself while he read the report. The way it was structured, I guessed it to be a chronic entry. But I couldn't be sure.

After a good five minutes, he raised his head and tapped his index finger on a passage. "I think you'll find this interesting." He cleared his throat. "And as we made our way back from our day's work, we heard a sound similar to that of orcish filth hiding in the lower tunnels. We raised our axes and our hammers, expecting the worst. But what we found at the end of the tunnel were not orcs, but a human woman. She wore truly strange clothing, similar to that of the Elven people..." He broke off and made a noise as if someone was squeezing the air out of him. Legolas, who seemed to anticipate what this was about, said, "It is all right, Gimli. That we are not viewed particularly... favorably in the sources of your people, I was well aware."

"Very well, then," the dwarf seemed unconvinced, but he read on, probably omitting the section about the elves. "We took her to the nearest human city, called Laketown, or Esgaroth. There she was taken in by a family who took care of her. The following day... The rest is not important." Gimli looked up. "That's certainly not much, a human woman in Esgaroth - how is that supposed to help you?"

"From when is the report?" asked Legolas.

"It was written some thirty years ago."

"So there is a possibility..." the elf pondered aloud. "Excuse me for a moment."

Without looking back, he walked away, leaving me alone with Gimli. The dwarf looked at me with a questioning look, "A possibility for what?"

"To find them alive," I said. He could know that much. After all, Legolas seemed to trust him, so I guess I could do the same.

"You want to find her alive?" The dwarf rubbed his beard. "As I recall, a relative once told me of this thing. He said the woman had settled in and was well liked in the society of Esgaroth."

"Can you remember when that was?"

Gimli ran his hand over his beard again, but then shook his head. "Well before the War of the Ring. A lot has changed since then, lass. She may as well have been slain by marauding orc hordes."

"Yes," I muttered. "But maybe she's still alive."

"Maybe," he agreed with me. But another issue seemed to concern him more, "Now tell me, why is a young human woman, such as you are, interested in reports that are far in the past?"

I had to grin. "I am not quite as young as you think, Master Dwarf."

"You will hardly be older than twenty human years," he said with a furrowed brow.

"Too much praise," I said with a laugh. He was a charmer, no question. "I'm about fifteen years older, thirty five if you want to be precise."

Gimli's eyes widened and I only now realized that he had meant what he had said. "I don't think that's possible."

"And why?"

"You still have all your teeth. There is hardly a wrinkle dug into your face, and you have no infirmity. Tell me, does elvish blood run in your veins?"

Involuntarily, I couldn't help but think of my kin. "No," I said, "not that I know of. But in my... lands, people grow considerably older than they do here in Gondor."

"How old?" the dwarf asked, looking at me curiously.

"The average age, to my knowledge, is around eighty-three. But most of them get older. Around ninety or even more."

"Then your appearance makes sense," he replied, still looking at me with interest. "In any event, it couldn't have anything to do with the beer you serve in your tavern."

I looked at him mockingly. "What did you expect, we stretch it, otherwise our customers couldn't afford it and neither could we." The dwarf made a scoffing sound. "But should you ever set foot in the Golden Crow again, I recommend our homebrew. It's not stretched, I promise."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said with a cuckle.

"And if you'll be patient a little longer, we'll soon have new beers on the list. Cherry beer, for example."

"Cherry beer?" Doubtingly, he looked at me. "Who gave you that idea?"

"Believe it or not, we drink beer in my homeland, too."

"So you know your stuff!" Now I had his full attention.

"Well, I've at least tried one or two before."

"Your homeland seems like an interesting place. Ordinary people who live to be as old as hobbits and ale made from cherries," he shook his head. "I thought the elf was exaggerating, but this time he seems to have been right."

"He spoke to you about me?", I asked sharply.

Gimli's guilty expression told me all I needed to know. "Did he also tell you that he thought I was a thief?"

"You should not hold it against him."

"And why not?"

"He's looking for a solution." Gimli squirmed under my gaze, clearly not wanting to give too much away.

"For the problem of the Greenwood?", I asked, remembering my conversation with Legolas.

"As always, you have an exceptionally strong gift of combination," said the elf in my back.

I winced, my heart racing. Then I wheeled around, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Spooking me," I hissed. "Don't do that."

He passed over my comment, but I saw the mischievousness flash in his eyes. "As promised, I sent a messenger to Rohan to inquire about the woman. Unfortunately, he has not yet returned. I'd be happy to send one to Esgaroth as well, in fact I'd recommend it."

I hadn't quite recovered from the scare, so I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Why are you so involved in my problem?"

Legolas and Gimli exchanged a look. "I made you a promise," the elf replied.

"That is not the only reason."

"No," he said, "but the one that should interest you."