AU Fourth Age fusion of book and movie-verse. Set ninety eight years into Aragorn’s reign.

A:L:G  OC  Friendship fic. Not slash. PG for violence and some adult dilemmas in later chapters.

Angst/Adventure

Previously posted as Unbinding the Box

Adagio

Chapter six

Stone-Water-Worn-Smooth felt he had really tried.

For three whole weeks he cleaned out his pet's straw bedding every day, he changed the water in his bowl; he even peeled him out of his wrappings after the first few days when they started to smell bad.

Stone water called his pet Mossy-Rock, because when he looked at him out of his wrappings he decided he probably had enough fur to keep warm.

Stone-Water gave him some more bedding straw in case he wasn't warm enough, just to make sure.

When his mother came back home, after the spring mating, things got a bit more difficult.

She hated smells, so Stone-Water made sure he took away all the uneaten food and was even more careful with the bedding.

But whatever he did Mossy would not eat. He offered him peeled meat, and unpeeled meat and grass and leaves and Mossy just left everything.

Mossy did not do much really, especially now.

Stone-Water-Worn-Smooth slouched in front of his pet's cage and remembered. He had definitely been more active in the first days.

Stone-Water had enjoyed watching him explore the little cup shaped cave he was keeping him in. Mossy's attempts to climb out had been very funny and Stone-Water had remembered some of his more colourful curses by saying them over and over again to himself.

Stone-Water felt sad, Mossy had not even touched the slimy rockfish he had brought for him today.

In fact, now he had time to think, since his mother had come home Mossy seemed to spend most of his time lying down, and the places the red stuff had come out of looked bigger and leaked smelly stuff.

 Stone-Water stood on his special rock again and peered in at his captive. Nope, not even the water touched today.

Granite-Gleaming-Crystal watched her son as he fussed over the niche high in the wall where he was keeping his latest pet then watched him as he pottered out of the cave again with his arms full of used bedding.

In a way she was pleased because his little project had kept him busy at a time when she was a bit distracted. She felt most pleased with the outcome of the fight this year.

But now, she knew the signs, his whatever it was, was dying, and her little splinter was distressed.

She rumbled across and tried to see into the niche, but it was just above her eye height and if she stood on the rock Stony used, her head hit the ceiling, bending was not one of her talents

The smell of the animal was familiar but she couldn't quite place it, so overlaid it was with the smell of its sickness. She could hear its rattling breathing, so at least it was not dead yet.

Stone-Water came back in again then and saw his mother by the cage. He slumped a bit.

"Is it dead then?"

His mother looked at him, it was such a shame really, and he did try to be a good boy.

"Not yet," she replied brightly. "What do you have for it today?"

Stone-Water glumly held up a bundle of bedding grasses and a bowl of water.

"It won't eat. I think I might have to kill it soon if it doesn't die. You always say it's not fair to keep a pet suffering."

Granite-Gleaming got ponderously down from the rock and took the bedding from her son.

"Do it now, Stony. The sooner it is over the sooner you can go looking for another piggy. That lasted well, and I promise I will be more careful this time. Do it now, and I will go out for a little walk. You know how I hate the squishing sound they make."

Stone-Water-Worn-Smooth nodded and watched his mother as she carefully put the bundle of straw on a ledge and left the cave.

He sighed; it would have been so good to have had the dwarf for a long, long time.

He put the water bowl down and climbed on his rock to peer in at his pet. It was sprawled on its back where he had left it after cleaning out the old straw, quite still except for the rasping of its breath.

He reached in with both hands and gently scooped it out, then went over to the middle of the living area of the cave and squatted down to look at it.

It neither groaned nor squirmed and he knew that was not good. He looked at Mossy-Rock for a long time and felt very sad, but his mother was right as usual, the dwarf was not going to get better, he was mostly bones now anyway.

Stone-Water shifted his slight weight onto the palm of one broad hand and reached for a handy rock with the other. Best get it over with; he could hear his mother hurrying back to the cave.

00000

 Gleowyn felt more herself after she had bathed and dressed herself in clean, if borrowed, clothes. She was brushing her hair, out by the fire in front of her father's tent, when Frecern appeared out of the shadows.

"My love, my little flower, I was so worried…" He got no further.

Gleowyn jumped to her feet with an energy that surprised him, stepped forward and slapped him so hard around the face that he took an involuntary two steps backwards.

From simpering insincerity a look of black anger crossed his expression before he could smooth his features into a more acceptable surprise.

"And that," thought Gleowyn, "is probably the most honest thing he has ever shown to me."

She didn't let him find his balance, stalking forward into his space.

"Does the 'Great Cow' ring any bells, or would you like 'Come to the stables sweeting she's gone out'."

A look of both horror and disgust crossed Frecern's handsome face.

 "That tattling Dwarf…"

Once again he took a roundhouse blow to his jaw, swung this time with so much force behind it that he fell to his backside in confusion. Gleowyn shook her aching hand and then aimed a kick at his prostrate form.

She was incandescent with rage.

"How dare you. How dare you when you are not fit to lick the dirt from his boots."

She spotted her astounded father hovering in the background along with a highly entertained group of soldiers and the messenger, Telfaren.

Stepping over the prostrate man she stalked up to Bardor still fuming.

"Father, I am sorry but I will not," she turned to pin the hapless man with another glare then turned back to her parent, "not, marry that, that worm."

"You tell 'im, love." Came from the crowd, followed by jovial laughter.

Frecern finally managed to scramble to his feet, and occupied himself with dusting off his clothes, Bardor still gaped at his daughter.

"My dove, if you are sure, but…?" Gleowyn placed a hand on his arm.

"No buts, Father. I will explain further," she looked at the audience then back at her parent. "When we are more private, perhaps?"

Frecern made himself scarce, and Bardor looked after him, and then seemed to pull himself together.

"Well, yes, perhaps later."

He shook his head, still disbelieving, and then he turned a more serious look on his daughter.

 "Gleowyn, the King has requested your presence, my dear. If you are up to it?" He asked anxiously.

Gleowyn briefly closed her eyes. She rather doubted she was ever going to be up to this interview. Well, putting it off would not improve matters.

She slipped her arm in that of her father. "Can you escort me then, please Dada?"

Bardor smiled at the diminutive, and led her away to the King's pavilion.

Aragorn sat in his carved chair and felt the weight of his kingship settle over his shoulders like a velvet cloak. This was his right and duty; to dispense such justice as was called for, as wisely as possible.

To his left sat Legolas who was all Elf-Lord now, beautiful and inscrutable. To his right, the dwarf Gliver, Lord of Aglarond with Gimli's passing, and behind him three other dwarves, whose names Aragorn had yet to allocate to precise individuals.

In front of them, sitting on the ground from preference, was the Woses' chieftain, Ghunkor-buri-Ghan, squat and proud but here of his own will.

The tent flap was lifted by one of the door guards and Gleowyn and her father, the Master Smith, entered, and then stopped, as they became the focus of all eyes.

In her turn Gleowyn scanned the company, then quickly dropped them all a deep curtsey; Aragorn was amused to see that polish applied by his Queen didn't wear off.

Bardor bowed also, and then Aragorn's discreet servants led the pair to the seats prepared for them.

Aragorn was intrigued to see that the knuckles on Gleowyn's hands were grazed. Had she been male he might have suspected her of brawling.

"Gleowyn."

The king allowed the pair to get settled then continued.

"We have heard from Ghunkor-buri-Ghan here," he waved a hand in the chief's direction.

"Of his part in these unfortunate events, and heard also of his remorse and the steps he has taken in retribution."

The King looked at the chief, who leaned forward and touched his head to the floor in submission.

The King then pinned Gleowyn in the intense light of his gaze.

"It remains for us to hear your story and perhaps the reason for some of these strange happenings."

Gleowyn sighed deeply, and then raised her chin to meet Aragorn's regard.

"It's a silly girl's tale, Sire. Not one part of it gives me any pride regarding my behaviour, but as you know, my Lord Gimli was the soul of compassion and it was his kindness that led him to his doom."

Her eyes welled with the emotion of the telling but she would not be deterred now she was well launched. She blinked crossly and carried on.

"The Lord of Aglarond was present when chance allowed me to find out the false nature of the man I had thought loved me."

Her struggle for control was obvious, but so was her will.

"I was distraught, you understand, Sire. So shamed I told no one of my distress. I fled to my mother's grave, hard under Dunharrow, but found no ease there either. Disordered in my mind I took the fancy to end my torment by casting myself from the cliff-top."

She glanced worriedly at her father who had gasped at her confession.

"I am sorry, Father, to tell such tales, but as I said, I was not in my right mind."

She wiped impatiently at her face, looking anything but diminished in her faculties now.

"My Lord Gimli must have spotted me ascending the cliff path. I am not sure how he came to be there, but when I responded not, he followed me; and when in my distress and grief I attempted to harm myself, he prevented me."

She paused for a second to sniff mightily and wipe the tears that would not be denied from her cheeks. Taking a deep breath she continued.

"He endured my tantrums, and then, when I was calmer, he led me back out of the wind to a camp in the trees."

She stood then, and brought a small carefully folded bundle of cloth to the King. He received it, recognised it, and turned to give it to Legolas. The Elf fingered the leaf broach and did not look up.

"He loaned me that cloak when I was chilled, fed me when I was hungry, and was taken completely unawares when he was shot twice by the arrows of the Woses warriors that had come for me. One arrow took him here."

She placed a hand on her right side, "the other here."

She indicated her left shoulder.

"He fell clear of the fire, but that was the last that I saw of him, for the warriors were many and I was terrified. They bound me and then carried me off."

She turned then and fixed the Wose chieftain with her bleakest look.

 "His warriors give no warnings, Sire."

She shook her head at the remembered horror of it all.

"And although Ghunkor-buri-Ghan's justice was swift and final it changed nothing of the outcome of that raid."

She turned back to the assembled Lords and bowed her head. " I am so sorry."

Her father stood then, put an arm around her shoulders, and led her back to her chair, leaving the company to sit for a while in heavy silence.

Bardor then turned back to the Lords looking perplexed. Aragorn lifted a hand in permission for the man to speak.

"King Elessar, one thing of all this tale remains a mystery. Where is Lord Gimli's body and all his gear?"

Legolas exchanged looks with Aragorn; they had discussed the matter themselves. Aragorn leaned forward.

"We have a similar curiosity, Master Smith. Was the Firienfield searched thoroughly then?"

Bardor creased his brow in thought.

 " It was, Sire. I myself rode down to the Dimholt and cast into the forest on either side. I even remember seeing the remains of a campfire near the road. But that was all I saw. There was no body and no gear. Believe me, after our finding of Gleowyn's bloodied garment I was looking for a body."

Gleowyn winced in sympathy; she would not have willingly brought him pain.

Gliver now spoke up. " Did you not enter the tunnel?"

Bardor shuddered. "Nay, it is still a fell place, my Lord." He looked at Aragorn. "Even without its ghosts it does not invite entry."

"Yet it is the route by which I was taken." Gleowyn spoke up again.

Ghunkor nodded.

"So we have a mystery."

Aragorn looked first at Legolas then, more doubtfully, at the very unhappy seeming dwarves.

"If I go now," Legolas jumped up. "I could be there by first light. Aragorn, please."

"He is our Lord." Complained Gliver in an irritated growl. "We will look for him."

Legolas shot the dwarf a look that Aragorn hadn't seen since Rivendell. It was full of menace.

"Hold, Legolas, Gliver."

He grabbed the Elf's arm.

 "Please Legolas, could you not carry Lord Gliver, as you are wont to carry Gimli, on horseback you would still both be there at daylight."

Both parties looked as if someone had cracked a cooked egg under their noses. Then the urgency of the situation seemed to overcome prejudice and the Elf and the dwarf shared a weighing look.

Aragorn released Legolas' arm, and Gliver turned and consulted briefly with his three companions; then turned back to the Elf.

"Will you bear me then, my Lord?"

Legolas bowed slightly to the dwarf. "If you can bear me, my Lord Gliver. Shall we away?"

And with that they were gone.

Aragorn sat back in his chair and regarded Ghunkor-buri-Ghan.

"Are your people housed to their satisfaction this night, Chief?"

"They await your coming, Stone-city King."

Aragorn felt the cost of the hours in this day and shook his head.

"At first light I will come, Chief. Let them be prepared."

The Wose knocked his head on the ground once more and then left the tent. The three dwarves followed.

"By your leave, we will depart for Aglarond in the morning, Sire. The colony must be informed of these events."

Aragorn waved them out and looked at the Smith and his daughter.

Gleowyn's face had the light of wild hope in it. "Do you think they will find him alive?"

Aragorn hoped so, and said so.

"But it has been three weeks or more since he was shot, Mistress Gleowyn. Have not too much hope in his survival."

Gleowyn curtseyed again and the pair left, leaving Aragorn in his pavilion, trying very hard to believe in miracles.

00000 

If Gliver had ever spent a more uncomfortable night in his relatively long life, he could not immediately call it to mind.

The Elf had not addressed a single word to him for eight hours with the exception of "Hold on."

The horse Ascallon seemed as tall as one of the elves' blessed trees, and he ached in places he would not mention to his wife, let alone the silent being in front of him.

Finally on the last zigzag ascent to the Firienfield his humiliation seemed complete when the weary animal missed its stride, pitching him sideways.

For a moment he thought he would fall to meet the silvery Snowbourn so far below. Gliver was amazed and grateful for the remarkable reflexes and strength in the slim arm that caught him and righted him with ease.

His relief made him thank the Elf with some warmth; his only answer was the glitter of the sun in the Elf's blue eye as he regarded his passenger. Finally the Elf nodded and they passed on up onto the grassy heath and continued for a short space down the saw toothed path leading to the Haunted Mountain.

Legolas leapt lightly from Ascallon's back. Then reached, out of pure habit, to swing down his companion. His jolt of hesitation as he remembered that this was not his friend of years was obvious even to Gliver.

"Your assistance would be appreciated, my Lord." Said Gliver gravely. "I have a fear I have frozen in this position."

Legolas gave Gliver a grateful twitch of his lips, which was as much as he could manage with the anxiety that was gnawing at his insides and beating down his spirit.

He helped the dwarf to dismount and turned to strip the animal of its saddlebags. Then turned back to the dwarf, who thought he might venture a step or two in the next week, perhaps.

"My apologies, Gliver. I fear I have been little company over this long night. My heart quails at what we might find this morn."

Gliver shook his head.

"Let us not borrow trouble, my Lord. Come, shall we not find the campsite as a starting point?"

Legolas nodded glumly and the two of them scouted from standing stone to standing stone until they found the one with an old fire site scattered in front of it.

Legolas darted into the clearing looking intently at the ground, then bent and picked up two arrows that had been almost hidden by the new spring growth of grass.

"See, Gliver, on the points of these two." The blackish flakes of old blood needed no explanation.

Gliver stooped also, and picked up the third arrow. He held it up to the light then showed Legolas the glint of oil still clinging to the point.

"Poisoned?" Asked Gliver.

Legolas took the arrow and sniffed it, then shrugged.

 "It has lain too long in the open to be sure."

He tucked it with the others into his quiver. One thing was for sure; Aragorn would want to see them.

They both turned and looked down the trail to the Dimholt, gaping at the end of the path.

"Should we waste time searching here; or follow, my Lord." Gliver asked with a challenge in his voice.

"I doubt if a dead person pulled those arrows." Replied the Elf. He shared a feral grin with the Dwarf.

"Let's go.”

 TBC

 Reviews welcomed, treasured and replied to.

Rose Sared