Gimli woke slowly.
 He was aware of strange sounds ere he opened his eyes. Where on earth was he? Then the salty smell reached his waking nose.
 "I’m not on earth", he mumbled.
 Gimli sat up and rubbed his stiff shoulder: age was a terrible thing. His body ached and groaned with little to no exertion. Just walking was sometimes a burden, let alone lying on a board.
 Legolas had taken every care to provide me with every comfort, Gimli mused. Even taking into consideration building a small room on the deck so I would not have to climb below.  Gimli swung his legs with a huff over the edge of his bed. Where is that blasted elf?  Legolas had been quiet as of late. Gimli had expected him to be excited about leaving Middle Earth. Instead, he had seemed melancholy.
 Gimli slowly pulled on his boots. They were different than the ones he had worn his whole life; these were soft and light, quite Elvish. Legolas had suggested, no, insisted, that Gimli’s heavy boots were a needless burden and were aggravating Gimli’s aged condition.
 That elf thinks of everything, he thought.
 Gimli pushed back the curtain that separated his room and the rest of the deck. Sunlight streamed in, forcing Gimli to wait to adjust his eyes. He scanned the deck looking for Legolas. His eyes finally landed on the elf, sitting stiff and erect with his face slightly tilted to the sun at the front of the ship.
 There he is and it looks like he has not moved since I left him last night.
 Grabbing on to the edge of the boat, Gimli made his way slowly to the front of the ship. Legolas’s insistence that the ship would take them to the Undying Lands by the Valar’s hands was discontenting to Gimli. We will probably wander in these cursed waters for all eternity, and all Legolas will have to accompany him will be my bones for I have not many years left. As Gimli moved closer, he noticed that Legolas had moved a rather large chest near his perch and a book of some sort was resting on his crossed legs.
 "Good Morning, sluggard, I feared you would sleep the entire day away and wake only when the sun bid the day goodbye and the moon began her ascent."
 Baited, Gimli shot back, "I would have woke earlier but did you find the knottiest plank in which for me to sleep upon and that incessant rocking is enough to make me lose my stomach."
 Legolas laughed turning to face him,
  "You were lucky to sleep upon anything. I had to travel far to find a tree willing to give up her branches to make a bed for a hewer of trees, oh my axe-wielding friend. Come, sit and eat. This will help settle your stomach."
 Gimli lowered himself down with a huff and took the proffered bowl of pastries and fruit. He raised an eyebrow at Legolas at the sight of the pastries. Legolas just shrugged.
 "I have developed quite a liking for these. Living among men was bound to have its effects."
 Gimli grabbed a handful of berries and waved towards the book sitting in Legolas’s lap.
 "What is that?"
 Legolas reflexively started to close the book, then paused, and turned to look at Gimli. He closed the book ,placing it back into the chest and took out another volume identical to the first. Handing it to Gimli, he said,
  "When I was young, very young, I liked to watch my adar work. I would sneak into his office and hide behind a large tapestry that hung beside his desk. One day I was caught, but after pleading, Adar deemed I could stay provided I was very quiet. "
 "So, after my lessons, I would slide into the office and sit at a small desk by his side. I was not yet old enough to write well, so I would draw. I drew pictures of what I saw and heard. Adar’s desk was always littered with my somewhat scribblish renderings. Then Ada gave me this book. He said I could draw my pictures in it and when it was full, he would give me another. That way he and I would always be able to look through the pages and remember".
  Legolas placed the book into Gimli's lap.
 "This chest represents my life. It is full of memories. I continued to draw even after my time in Adar’s office was replaced with training and duty. I have shared this with no one except him. Now, I share it with you."
 Gimli looked at the book Legolas had given him. He rubbed his hand over the smooth leather cover and gingerly opened it. Page after page, he looked, laughed ,and questioned each picture. He saw with amusement the developing of Legolas’s skill with the pen. Some pages were lighthearted with memories of dances and feasts, times with friends. Others were darker, laced with sorrow, memories of someone lost. There was a drawing of Legolas’s mother, lost to him when he was still young. The lines were shaky and there were smudges that showed the tears that had fallen as he painstakingly tried to capture his mother onto paper.
 There were friends that had been lost. Some horrific pictures of battles, some victorious, others crippling. But mixed in, was always beauty. Trees and wildlife, an occasional flower. Legolas spoke about each page like it had happened yesterday.
 Then there were volumes that contained events familiar to Gimli. Rivendell, he chuckled at the unsavory drawing Legolas had made of the arriving party of dwarves.
 "Forgive me, I feel that was a less than accurate rendering", Legolas said hastily as he turned the page.
 There was Moria, Lothlorien. The Battles hard fought meticulously put down on paper. The later volumes were somewhat sadder for there were so many friends that had gone on. Gimli closed the last volume and looked at the elf sitting beside him. We are all going to leave him.He ,too, will have to go in the end.
"Do these not bring you sorrow, my friend?"
  Legolas replied softly, "Nay, the joys and the trials, the loss of friends and family, are all what make me who I am. Many years from now, I will always be able to open these memories and remember my life, lest I forget."