Cadenza

Set in the same universe as ‘Adagio’ and ‘Mayflies’. One hundred years into the fourth age.

Drama/Adventure/Angst   A/L/G OC Friendship fic. No slash. R for violence.

Beta by the wonderful Theresa Green – Read all her stuff it is great.

Chapter Seven

“Rock headed, pebble brained, stubborn, old fool. He deserves to be trapped. If he had the sense Aule gifted a cave troll, he would not be down there.”

Gliver finally stumped onto the gallery overlooking the Glittering Caves, his disgruntled complaining warning those waiting that he was coming.

A young dwarf held a flaming torch out as far as possible to illuminate the cavern below. Gliver could see Gimli waving cheerfully up to him from his perch atop a massive boulder. A lake of inky water surrounded the boulder and stretched from wall to wall of the cavern. A dwarf child was sitting on Gimli’s shoulders, and he waved as well.

The child was Gliver’s only son, Tivor.

Gliver waved back sheepishly, and then rounded on the group of dwarves who were coiling ropes and driving pitons into the living rock behind him.

“What happened?” he asked in a voice of icy calm.

The young dwarf who had held the torch exchanged looks with his companions, then sighed and stepped forward.

“Dolan, my Lord. I headed one of the parties sent to check the Glittering Caves after the explosions.”

Gliver nodded curtly.

“Balor lead the other, that followed the lower tunnel that enters the cave over there,” The dwarf pointed to the left and behind Gimli where the very top of an arch could still be seen above the water.

“He found the children on the other side of the marble bridge, yonder.” Dolan waved into the darkness. “He called me to help because a falling rock cracked the bridge open, and the children were afraid to cross.” Dolan squinted into the dark. “Balor went back to the main hall for help and ropes, and I stayed by to keep an eye on the children. We realised the water was rising fast, dammed by one of the rock falls I suppose.” Dolan glanced at Gliver who was peering into the cavern again.

“The water rises yet,” Gliver commented.

“Aye, my Lord.”

“And my Lord Gimli?”

“He arrived with the search party Balor brought back, my Lord. He was a great help, really, my Lord. The children were happy because he had a plan for getting them across the gap in the middle of the bridge. We tossed a rope to them, and then the adults pulled them across to our side. We got five across and safe when the bridge started cracking further, and your Tivor still had to get across the gap.”

“And how did they both get there?” Gliver indicated the boulder.

“Gimli watched as Tivor tied the rope round his middle, then wrapped a loop around his own middle, and went into the water with Tivor as the bridge crumbled. The current was so strong that it whipped the tail end of the rope out of our hands. We thought them lost, my Lord, but luckily a length of the rope snagged on that rock, and Gimli pulled Tivor up with him to the top after cutting them free.”

Gliver shut his eyes for a second, shamefully glad he had not been here to see that. He looked into the cavern again; the water was rising up the boulder as he watched.

“What have you tried so far, to rescue them?”

“We have thrown and swung ropes from here, but we cannot get them far enough to reach them. Then we called for you, my Lord. Have you any ideas?”

Gimli’s voice could be heard then calling from the cavern. “Get the Elf.”

Both Gliver and Dolan looked at the pair in the middle of the lake and then at each other.

“Why?” Gliver yelled back.

“Just get him, Gliver, please.”

“We will not let you drown, my Lord.”

“Gliver, get the Elf. And tell him to bring his bow and some elven rope.”

Gliver stared at his Lord. Had the knock on his head he had received earlier in the day addled his wits? They were dwarves; they did not need help underground. Then he looked at the water inching up the stone and thought of his complete lack of ideas, and waved at Dolan.

“Go out the windows of the great hall and see if you can find him. I doubt if he is far away.”

Dolan looked as if he would say something, then shrugged, swung a hank of climbing rope over his shoulder, and trotted off.

**

Gliver and Gimli were left looking at each other across the rapidly filling cavern; Gliver struggled to find words, any words. Gimli lifted a hand to him in a dismissive way, then swung Tivor down off his shoulders and bent to speak to him, pointing further into the cavern as if they were on a sightseeing visit.

Gliver turned back to the younger dwarves who were coiling ropes and sorting the kind of climbing equipment that clanked, into piles.

Finally Gliver heard Dolan’s returning footsteps and peered hopefully up the tunnel. He felt his heart lift as he spotted the distinctive glow given off by the elf.

“Hail, Gliver.”

“Well met, my Lord. How fares the world outside?”

“Poorly, Gliver.” Legolas moved to the edge of the gallery and snagging a torch from the wall examined the cavern and its occupants. He turned again to make eye contact with Gliver.

“Treachery has laid Aragorn low, and wounded King Elfwine. Frealaf is dead.”

The elf darted towards the pile of metal implements stacked tidily to one side and picked up a ringbolt and a mallet. Taking a short length of light cord from his belt he whipped a loop onto each item. Then removing a large coil of cord from his shoulder he consulted with Dolan then watched as the dwarf attached the end to a well-driven piton in the back wall of the gallery.

“Ho, Legolas.” Gimli’s voice called from the dark.

Legolas moved to the edge and waved. He took his carved bow from its comfortable position on his back and quickly strung it.

“Have I a target, Gimli?” He shouted into the void.

“Have you elven rope?”

“Aye.”

“Two lengths to the north, and a half to the east, a pillar, Legolas.”

“Down, and stay down, Gimli.”

Legolas tied a fine cord to an arrow, then shot, the buzzing of his arrow loud in the darkness. The company heard it wrapping itself around an obstruction, then the splash of the rest of the rope hitting the black water.

Gimli was already on his feet and they could see him reaching for the faintly glowing strand as it draped over his perch.

“I’m sending down a ring bolt and a mallet. Will you secure your end?”

Gimli waved in reply and handed the end of the retrieved loop to Tivor, spending a moment to make sure the youngster had a good place to stand. Gliver felt a surge of affection for his Lord. He was ever mindful of youngster’s hopes and dignity, Tivor would hero worship him even more after this adventure. Gimli let the youngster pull in the more substantial coil of still thin elven rope that Legolas fed to the pair, Gliver noticed that Gimli’s boots were now getting wet;  he had positioned Tivor on the boulder’s highest point.

Legolas looped the bolt and mallet onto the rope and sent them down to Gimli, who quickly used both to secure the end of the more robust rope, taking up the slack until the rope made a nearly straight slope between the gallery and the boulder. The Elf put down his bow and quiver, put a foot onto the bridge to test the tension then, before Gliver could protest, or even wonder what he intended, Legolas sprang onto the rope and ran down to join the couple on their little island. It looked impossible, and if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes he would have scoffed at the tale, but in a trice Legolas was at Gimli’s side. Gliver saw the elf place a hand on his friend’s shoulder; Gimli covered it briefly with his own.

Gimli basked in the nearness of his friend; all things were possible when they worked together.

“Can you carry him up?” Gimli indicated Tivor, who was shifting from foot to foot, overwhelmed by being close to two of his heroes.

Legolas went over to the child and hefted him experimentally. He turned to Gimli.

“Easily, but what of you?”

“I’ll think about it as you take him back.”

Gimli lifted the child onto Legolas’ back piggyback style. “Trust him, Tivor. He will not let you fall.”

Once again the Elf stepped onto the tightrope, this time he inched his way slowly up the incline, their combined weight bowing the rope until it nearly touched the water. Gliver and his crew pulled mightily on the other end to maintain the tension and the gradient remained possible until the Elf was within a couple of metres of the gallery.

“Tivor,” He said softly.” I will have to throw you the last few feet. Will you trust me?”

He felt the dwarf child nod against his neck.

Legolas could see Gliver’s anxious face as he carefully manoeuvred the child round to his front. The Elf shifted his balance and the rope began to sway slightly. Legolas held Gliver’s eye then thrust the child up and away and into his father’s waiting arms.

The suddenly lightened rope rebounded and the Elf soared in a graceful arc up and away into the darkness, only to somersault and re-grasp the rope on his way down.

“Legolas!” Gimli’s anxious voice reached him from the darkness behind.

“I am well.”

The Elf swung lightly up onto the rope again and ran back down to Gimli. They both stood looking at the steadily rising water.

“And your plan is?” The elf’s glow showed Gimli the raised eyebrow the elf trained on Aglarond’s leader.

“You go on back, I’ll tie this end around me and you all can tow me across the water to the other side, then I’ll climb up.”

Legolas eyed him for a moment then nodded. “Be quick, Gimli. This water is fell cold.”

“I have been in it, Legolas. None knows better than I how little I want to get back in. Now go before I am frozen by inches.”

Legolas looked down and saw the water lapping at the sides of Gimli’s boots. “You have your knife?”

“Aye, mother. Go.” Gimli waved the knife at the Elf and pushed him lightly onto the rope. Legolas gave him one more look then ran up the rope almost as easily as he had run down it. Willing dwarf hands helped him up the last steep couple of feet.

“Go, Gimli.” Legolas stationed himself at the head of the rope and watched his friend as he tied the other end to his middle. “Come, friend. We will pull you quickly.”

Gimli stepped off the rock and into the water with a great splash. He vanished instantly beneath the surface.

Legolas and Gliver exchanged dismayed looks and then started pulling lustily on the rope.

Legolas saw Gimli’s head break the surface and he started making slow progress towards the gallery side of the cavern.

At that exact moment the party of dwarves working diligently outside the gates of Aglarond managed to dislodge one of the wedged boulders and so break the dam. With a roar to rival the falls of Rauros, the confined water leapt for freedom, dragging all that floated in it to a swift escape.

Gimli felt the sudden change in the water’s flow and then was grabbed by current. Water mounded up against his resistance, making it impossible to keep his mouth clear of the liquid. He coughed and choked, the rope halter wanting to cut him in two, and then tumble him over and over like a leaf in the wind. He fought against the cold, the pressure and the confusion, swinging on the rope like any fish. Then the unyielding stone of the cavern side intersected the arc of his travel. He was slammed into granite and his world went dark in a sparkling show of pain.

“Gimli. Gimli!” Legolas yelled into the chaotic dark, leaning against the pull of the rope and trying to wrest his friend from the rampaging torrent. Behind the elf the dwarves maintained their grip on the rope and yielded not an inch.Tivor leaned out to see if he could see the missing Lord.

“Over there.” The child’s shrill treble cut through the roaring of the water. He pointed to the right. The weight on the rope suddenly increased as the water fell below the level that would support Gimli. Legolas felt the weight swing quickly down, until the rope once again fell straight over the edge of the gallery.

“Pull, for the Valor’s sake. Let’s get him up.”

The party put their back into the work and in no more than a minute Gimli’s sodden, bloodstained, unconscious form was tumbled over the edge and into the arms of his waiting people.

Legolas stooped beside him, placing his hand on his chest. He turned a wide-eyed panicked look on Gliver. “He breathes not.”

Gliver rolled Gimli onto his side and knocked him un-gently in the middle of his back. Water spilled from his slack lips, but no answering breath stirred the air in the gallery.

Legolas grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Breathe, Gimli, breathe. Don’t leave me, here in the depths of your mountain. Come back.” He leant his shining forehead against Gimli’s sodden hair and concentrated, his light dimming in the intensity of his need.

Gliver felt his own breath surge once, and again. He saw the Elf sway, and dim and falter, seeming to fold into himself over his friend. Gliver reached a hand out to lend something, comfort, support, he knew not. His hand reached Legolas’ back as Gimli gasped and convulsed, coughing water from his lungs as if reborn  into this bitter world. The Elf leaned for a moment into Gliver’s well-meant support, looking for once dim and almost old.

Then Dolan was beside them offering a blanket and Tivor was untying the silver elven rope from behind Gimli’s back and life lurched into banality again, the old enemy driven back for yet another eve.

TBC

Reviews are gratefully welcomed, treasured and replied to.

Rose Sared