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 Eight

Only in this moment, Gimli was fighting orcs, the hot thrill of battle filling him with savage joy, he felt completely and fully alive, dealing death with every screaming swing of the axe he had forged for himself.

Only in this moment, he cut through orc arms that spouted black blood, into orc middles that spilled entrails and, on the back swing, removed two orc heads.

 Only in this moment, he tasted orc blood and smelled orc guts and heard orc screams, and then walked forward to find new foes since all around him had fallen.

Only in this moment, he turned to shout an exuberant total to… He peered into the shifting mists veiling the rest of the battlefield; he could hear the blacksmith sound of fighting somewhere ahead.

 He walked forward, the dead so many obstacles to step over. A black wall loomed, fine stonework, he noted. The bodies changed under his feet, now some wore leather armour, golden hair spilled from under leaf shaped helms. He looked down at the warrior sprawled at his feet that grey leather jerkin looked familiar.

 Golden hair all in disarray except for the warrior braids holding it back from the sides of his face. The bow still clutched in his hand looked familiar. The mist drifted in front of him again, so he reached down to touch the yellow hair and it was Legolas.

 Dead.

Gimli yelled "No" but he was mute, and still could feel the soft yellow hair beneath his hand.

Again he yelled and still no sound came from his mouth.

He started to fight this unnatural muzzling, his grief needed expression. He shook his head from side to side. Of a sudden he became aware that his eyes were shut, again he tried to open them, to speak, anything.

Then at last he felt a strong hand in his and heard someone singing softly.

He knew that voice and it comforted him. He tried again to open his eyes to confirm the dream was a nightmare and nothing more, but was lulled back to sleep before he could succeed.

Legolas faltered in his song, for a moment Gimli had looked like he was waking, his eyes had flicked under their closed lids and he had squeezed the Elf's hand, but now he had gone slack again.

Legolas looked up at the healer who just then entered the room, new to him this morning but of the same opinion as the kindly woman of the night before.

If he moved Gimli further he would kill him.

So Legolas had worn away the tedious morning with song and snatches of sleep. Now it was near to day meal and the healer had come with a tray of broth to coax some much-needed nutrition into the wasted dwarf. Legolas sighed and disengaged his hand from that of his friend.

"Master healer, if we are not to travel I must speak both to King Elfwine and send a messenger to my liege, King Elessar, who waits for us on Rohan's border. Also I have an errand in the stables, for my horse Cloudfoot must be freed from his obligation.

Will it be possible for you to stay with Gimli?"

"If not myself, then someone I trust, my Lord."

Legolas bowed to him and left the room reluctantly, but he had much to do.

0000

King Elfwine the Fair had been ruler of Rohan since the death of his father nearly twenty-four years ago.

"So stage fright," Elfwine thought, "is simply ridiculous."

owever he had a sinking feeling that the Lord of Ithilien had dandled him on his knee when he was but a babe, and since then, although the Lord Legolas had visited the kingdom frequently in the company of the King of Gondor or more frequently in the company of the Lord of Aglarond and most commonly in the company of them both, it was nonetheless true, that in all that time, he had never had to deal with the Elf Lord, by himself, as one prince to another.

 And now he had to address issues that he could guarantee would not sit well with the ever-young looking Elf.

Rumours about his friend the equally durable Lord of Aglarond, who was at this present time in Edoras' House of Healing, teetering between life and death if his advisors had informed him correctly.

The same advisors who were telling him of a growing swell of discontent in his population concerning the perceived advantages that were held by the colony of dwarfs nigh on Rohan's shoulder, at Aglarond.

Tales were being told of greed and envy, which said more of the tellers than any slight proffered by the dwarves, of that Elfwine was sure. But the alacrity with which the tale of the maiden abducted and dishonoured by the evil dwarf had spread round the alehouses and meeting places in the city told Elfwine something of the mood of his people.

He wanted to tell Legolas to be careful, and that was a responsibility he would have gladly handed to someone else. Anyone else.

Hence his unaccustomed nerves, as the Lord of Ithilien was announced and then strode down the dim length of the great hall towards him, shining slightly in the shafts of light like some legend embroidered on the venerable tapestries that decorated the walls.

"King Elfwine, thank you for seeing me at such short notice," Legolas bowed with his hand on his heart.

"My Lord Legolas." Elfwine stood and walked down the steps in front of the throne to meet the Elf. "Come, sit with me, I believe you have a tale to tell."

The King led Legolas over to a table set up nearby and with his own hands poured the Elf a goblet of good Ithilien red. At least he knew what Legolas liked to drink, he thought to himself.

"How is the Lord Gimli?" He prompted gently.

Legolas took a sip of his wine, looked at it with appreciation, and then turned to the King. "He is gravely ill, Elfwine." He shook his head mournfully. "Have you heard from King Elessar about the events that led up to the Master Smith's daughter's abduction?"

Elfwine tapped a half unrolled message scroll that was on top of a pile of others on the table.

"He has been most gracious in his sharing, every day he sends me the latest news, and earlier today I received this, which details the doings of my wayward vassals, the Woses." He smiled ruefully at the Elf. "He bids me consider what justice I would consider meet." He shook his head, "It would appear they have lost their homes, I can think of little I can do that would punish them further. But the girl is unharmed?"

He raised an eyebrow to Legolas, who nodded briefly. Elfwine sighed, mightily relieved.

"That is very good, my Lord."

Legolas looked at him slightly puzzled.

"Did you know the maid, Sire?"

Elfwine snorted in amusement.

 "My Lord Legolas, this is a small city, and the daughter of the Master Smith is not known for her retiring ways."

He smiled at some internal memory.

"But I confess that it is not really concern for her person that leaves me pleased that she is well."

He took a drink from his own goblet and narrowed his eyes at the Prince sitting opposite.

"No, my real concern was that I feared an enflaming of the vile rumours that have been spreading through the city against the dwarf race in general, and your good friend in particular."

He looked at the table for a moment not wanting to see the expression of dismay that was forming on Legolas' face.

"For some reason," he continued, "The common folk have started to take against our good friends and allies, the dwarves of Aglarond."

Elfwine watched as Legolas stiffened in outrage, and hurried on trying to placate him.

"I hope it is just end-of-winter discontent, my Lord."

He reached over the table and placed his hand gently over that of the Elf.

 "I will not tolerate it and have instructed my soldiers and guards they are to have no truck with such nonsense. They are to be swift and stamp it out if they come across any dwarf being harassed. But sometimes even kings and guards are powerless in the face of unreasoning prejudice."

Legolas was jolted out of his indignation by a sharp memory of his conversation with Aragorn regarding prejudice. Given Minuial's behaviour, Elves were not holding the moral high ground in the matter either.

"What has been happening, Elfwine? Have there been incidents?"

The King shook his head.

 "Barroom discontent only, so far. But it appears that instead of stopping the talk our strong reaction has meant the rumours are gaining strength from day to day. Only this morning the Queen told me of having to discipline a nursemaid who told Prince Eomer, in the Queen's hearing, that he "Should not come in from riding, all over filth like a stinking dwarf."

Legolas looked dismayed, and suddenly anxious for his friend who he had left in the care of strangers. He stood abruptly.

"Does King Elessar say when the Master Smith and his daughter are expected back?"

"No more than three days hence, my Lord. Then perhaps this hysteria will die down."

Legolas nodded, perhaps in three days Gimli would be well enough to travel again, and Legolas could remove him from this dangerous place. The Elf glanced around the hall suddenly aware of the city full of humans surrounding him, an isolated feeling he knew Gimli would share if only he were awake. A great longing for his trees and his kin swept over Legolas like a wave, he closed his eyes briefly to regain control.

 "I must get back to Gimli, Elfwine. My thanks for your honesty, and your support. We will remove ourselves as soon as we may, and then perhaps things will settle down for your people."

He rose, and bowing, left the King sitting.

Elfwine tasted the bitterness behind those words and pressed a finger against his eyebrow to quell the headache that wanted to establish itself there.

"That could have gone better." He thought.

00000

Frecern was in the process of unsaddling his horse when that filthy dwarf's Catamite, the effete looking Elf, Leg something or another, swept past in his poncy, arrogant, way.

"What the hell is he doing here?" He growled at the smudge-faced stable boy who was holding his horse's head.

The boy, Aldor, had followed the shining Lord's progress with something like hero worship in his eyes, but he quickly modified his expression to his usual blank sullenness as he turned to answer the smith. It did not pay to anger Frecern; his racist views were anything but secret.

"Dunno." The boy replied warily. "Got a nice horse." Aldor jerked his head at the end loose box.

Frecern's eyes widened as he saw the Mearas nuzzling the Elf's hair.

 "Is nothing sacred?"

The smith lifted the saddle and girth onto the partition and stood with his fists clenched staring at the pair.

"That's Rohan's, it belongs to the Rohirrim, what does he think he's doing stealing our heritage?"

Frecern turned his burning gaze back on the stable boy who was in the process of tying up his horse preparatory to grooming it.

Legolas walked past again, this time with the great stallion pacing him at his shoulder. Aldor could hear a stream of musical Sindarin, as if the Elf was having a conversation with the horse.

Frecern stepped into the shadows until the Elf was past, then he commenced swearing bitterly.

"…Between them and the dwarves we're buggered." He finished finally.

Aldor paused in his brushing to look at Frecern with some admiration. That was three new words and a really good insult he had just added to his collection.

"What did they do to you, Master Smith, to so spark your anger?" The boy knew the value of flattery.

Frecern looked pleased for a moment at the title, then anger dimmed his expression again and he slammed out of the stall.

"They live." He replied to the boy gruffly. "They breath my air."

He kicked the stall door closed.

"They are disgusting."

He left the stable and Aldor continued his grooming. He wouldn't want to be around when Frecern found out the dwarf was in Edoras also. Nasty piece of work that man.

00000

"Ah, look. Edoras."

Telfaren pointed into the distance and Gleowyn stood in her stirrups to catch a glimpse of Meduseld's gold roof gleaming in the morning sun. The tumbling Snowbourn ran swiftly at her side and she felt most grateful to be nearly home.

She twisted round and called out to her father to look.

Telfaren looked at her radiant, enthusiastic expression and thought what a fool Frecern was to have thrown away the love of this good woman. He could feel himself falling further and further under her spell, but surely it was too soon to make his heart known to her, she must still be reeling from her dreadful adventure and her equally dreadful betrayal.

Telfaren looked at her fondly and thought how good it was to see her cheerful again.

 He had been most happy to be the messenger chosen to carry the news of Gimli's survival to the King's camp at Firien Wood.

Despite all the earnest qualifications Legolas had hedged the news with, emphasising how ill the dwarf still was, the fact of his survival had cheered everyone from the King to Gleowyn herself.

Even the little hobbit, Tom Gardener, who had arrived in camp the previous afternoon with some special herbs for the King, had joined in the celebration.

Telfaren patted the pouch at his side in an unconscious gesture of reassurance. He took his job very seriously and he had dispatches for both his King Elfwine, and the Lord Legolas. It seemed that, now the two Kings and the Lord of Ithilien knew him, they had requested his service.

He felt immensely flattered and rather overawed by the responsibility. Imagine if one of his messages went astray. He touched the pouch again, and forced himself to relax. All was well.

Gleowyn had noticed his fidgeting and looked on him in sympathy.

"Do you want to speed on, then Telfaren? It must be wearying for you to tarry at the column's pace."

She gestured back at the tail of men and wagons that trailed for a hundred paces or more.

Telfaren got a little tongue tied and blushed.

 "Nay, not. My lady it," He took a deep breath. "It matters not, my Lady. I will be there soon enough." He managed ungraciously.

Gleowyn glanced at him with a dimple showing in her cheek. He was very sweet really, but so shy. She looked away to the plains to give him a chance to collect himself again.

"Tell me more, Telfaren, of the battle of Helm's deep that the Lord Gimli told you of. You are so lucky to hear it from one who was there."

She turned back to the young man and was guilty of looking at him from under her eyelashes.

Not that it mattered. Telfaren was immediately fired with enthusiasm and launched into a long and detailed account of the positions held by the various forces on the curtain wall. Gleowyn looked at his animated face and thought what pretty hair he had, and eyes, she let her gaze roam a little, quite pleasing altogether really. She smiled at him again, and let him chat on as they rode home.

00000

Legolas was thankful for the thick stone walls that formed the substance of the House of Healing, he was equally grateful for the unending kindness of the healers that worked in this house.

He had never meant to cause them so much strife, and given his choice he would have smuggled his friend out of the building sometime in the night and made a clean escape. But the healers had been so adamant that Gimli should not be moved; and had become so incensed at the protesters that were now permanently stationed outside their door, restrained only by a permanent squad of royal guards, that it would have felt cowardly to simply give in and go. Nonetheless he was pleased he could not hear the chanting crowd this far back in the building.

Mobs always made him nervous.

Gimli woke and looked for his friend, finding him perched tensely in the window embrasure looking out over the house's gardens. Where he always was when he woke. Gimli could not be doing with being so ridiculously weak. Every time he woke he was horrified by how little he could do. Simply talking would wear him so greatly that he would drift off to sleep again mid-sentence. It made him feel less than Dwarvish, less than alive, if the truth were told.

He turned his head away from the Elf and looked around his room.

Nothing had changed, it remained austere and functional, always there was a small bunch of flowers on the table by the washbasin, it worried him that he knew they were Iris's; he had been here for too long.

"How long?" he ventured into the air.

"Five days, my friend." Legolas hopped down from the window and moved round the bed so he could look into his face.

"Are you sure it is not five years." Gimli asked petulantly.

"No, and you asked me that this morning."

Legolas was looking worn and strained in a way Gimli had not seen for years. Not since they thought Aragorn had been lost in the Harad campaign actually, and that was forty years ago.

Gimli reached a hand up to the Elf, who grabbed it and helped the dwarf into a more comfortable sitting position. Gimli's head swam a little but he did not faint, as he would have the day before. Progress of a sort he supposed.

"And will you tell me what has you so worried? I think I am not likely to die now, no matter how much I might wish it."

Legolas winced slightly and Gimli felt sorry to have hurt him, again.

He must have been very close for the very mention to cause his friend to recoil. It should probably have caused him more concern but frankly he didn't have the energy.

Legolas had picked up a bowl and a spoon off the tray on the table, and was advancing towards him purposefully again. Gimli rolled his eyes.

"More broth?"

"Think of it as steak, my friend. Think of it as our way out of here."

Gimli turned his head from the spoon. Then met Legolas' less than patient eye.

"You do not need to stay. Nay, I mean it. Gliver would send someone to stay with me should you only ask."

Legolas bowed his head for a moment, letting his hair shield him from Gimli's already too perceptive eye. The last thing he wanted to do was encourage more dwarves to visit Edoras in the current climate of hate. All that would happen would be that more would end up in here as patients.

"Eat." He said, re-presenting the spoon, and Gimli gave in and obeyed.

00000

It took Gleowyn a little over a day to find out what was going on in her hometown.

 No one had wanted to talk to her about her experiences, which she found a little strange, but then there were all those muffled conversations between her maids and the smiths, that cut off abruptly as she approached and started up again as she left.
Finally she bumped into an old friend from her handmaiding days who clasped her to her bosom and sobbed out how brave she was and how hard it must be to show her face when it was so shameful, and…. Gleowyn had had enough.

"What are you talking about, Lilaarn. Nothing shameful happened to me."

Lilaarn held her at arm's length and looked at her doubtfully. "Then what would you call being ravished by that animal, that dwarf."

"What!" Gleowyn's astonishment must have been convincing because Lilaarn took a step back and shook her head.

"But everyone is saying so, and the crowd outside the houses of healing calling for the dwarf to be hung and…"

"Crowd?"

"Well, Mama called it a mob really. Surely you knew?"

"The houses of healing where my Lord Gimli is attempting to recover from saving my life?"

Lilaarn placed a hand over her mouth, her eyes huge. She nodded.

"The houses of healing that my father forbids me to visit because my Lord Gimli is too ill to be disturbed."

Gleowyn's voice was rising in a manner Lilaarn remembered all too well from earlier days. She nodded again.

Gleowyn looked frantically around the square she was standing in and spotted, praise be the Valar, her friend Telfaren.

"Telfaren, come here, please."

Telfaren looked at her with a little trepidation, which simply cemented in her mind all that she had heard.

"What is the King doing about this, this, travesty, Telfaren?"

"Lord Gimli?" Telfaren ventured.

Gleowyn glared at him.

His shoulders slumped.

"He has soldiers posted outside the doors of the house of healing day and night, Gleowyn. He has posted proclamations that tell of what really happened, but most of the mob cannot read, and agitators in the alehouses inflame them. Do you really want him to set soldiers on to their grannies and mothers?"

Gleowyn could not believe her ears. With no more ado she set off for the lower streets and the Houses of Healing.

"Gleowyn wait, wait. Oh drat the girl."

Telfaren handed the astounded Lilaarn his messenger pouch and quickly checked his sword and belt knife. Then he pushed Lilaarn in the direction of the Master Smith's home.

 "Go tell him, and tell him to hurry, this could all go wrong, and quickly girl. Go!"

And with that he turned and ran after Gleowyn.

Telfaren began to panic when he realised that, where Gleowyn could slip through the thickening crowd by either smiling, or wriggling in some arcane way that let her through, as a male he had no such advantage and he was falling progressively behind.
Before he was even two thirds of the way towards the doors of the Houses of Healing, he could see Gleowyn reach the first of the guarding soldiers. She shouted something in his ear that, by his shocked expression, Telfaren assumed was her name. Gleowyn took advantage of his confusion to jump past him and onto the top step of the entranceway. The people, bored with chanting cheered her as a diversion. She started yelling something to the demonstrators nearby and a wave of quiet spread outwards as the crowd strained to hear. Finally Telfaren could hear her shouting.

"I am Gleowyn, the Master Smith's daughter."

As this information percolated through the crowd a roar went up then shut off as they strained to hear.

"I am Gleowyn, the Master Smith's daughter, and you have heard that despicable things were done to me."

The roar grew louder and Telfaren managed finally to reach the front of the crowd. Gleowyn made fleeting eye contact with him then held up her hands for quiet again.

"Look at me."

She shouted, and then pulled over the nearest soldier to stand shoulder to shoulder with her; she was half a head taller. She pantomimed amazement and showed the audience the size difference. There were a few laughs from the crowd especially when she shoved the soldier back to his post.

"Now, people of Edoras, are you stupid? I wish to hear nay here, people."

She put her hand to her ear and pantomimed listening. The crowd roared back to her good naturedly, she was the best entertainment they had had for days.

"Was that nay? I can't hear you." She worked them up a little more.

"So."

She beckoned to Telfaren to come up to her, then pushed him to his knees, looked at him critically then pushed him a little more hunched. He came up to her thigh.

"I give you the Lord Gimli."

The crowd rumbled a little. Gleowyn pantomimed the enormous height difference. Then stood with her hands on her hips looking at him and then down at herself.

"Do you think he carried a ladder?" She yelled, laughing at the crowd.

The people in front got it, and the wave of guffaws spread out into the crowd as they repeated her line to the people behind them. The laughter swelled.

Gleowyn let them laugh at her for a long moment or two and encouraged Telfaren up on his feet. He stepped in behind her protectively, although she hardly needed it.

She held up her hands again and the crowd quietened slowly.

"The Dwarf, people, did nothing to me. He was protecting me, not hurting me. The Dwarf could not have done anything to me even if he wanted to, could he?"

She stuck her hand up behind her ear again grinning at the crowd. And they, well trained now, yelled, "Nay."

"Go home, good people, and thank you for your kind thoughts. But remember the lady Eowyn. Are the Rohirrim women warriors, or the sort of milksops that would be overcome by a dwarf?

"Nay" yelled the crowd again, and again; and then laughing still, they started to disperse.

Gleowyn turned to Telfaren and buried her face in his shoulder shaking in every bone in her body.

The door to the house of healing opened when the crowd had all but gone, and Legolas slipped out to meet her. He had his bow in his hand and had obviously been covering her from one of the windows. Telfaren gave him a very grateful look, but Gleowyn was covered in embarrassment.

"My Lord, I would not have had you hear that."

Legolas bowed to her.

"My Lady, that was a very brave and very foolish thing you just did for my friend. On his behalf I thank you, and on my behalf I will ever be in your debt."

Gleowyn thought she might just die of embarrassment right there on the steps of the hospital.

"Don't ever, ever tell him I made fun of him, please, my Lord."

"Well, why don't you tell him some tale that will please you then, my Lady? He is awake and very bored. A visitor, or two"

He said looking at the messenger who looked rather white and worse the wear as well.

"Might just cheer him up."

TBC

Rose Sared

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