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 stories, they are very funny and very good.

Chapter Ten

"I shall miss your company, Gimli."

Legolas picked at the pale lichens that patterned the low wall he was
sitting on, avoiding his friend's eye.

The dry-stone wall edged the paved way that welcomed visitors to Aglarond.
Behind the elf, Ascallon made a meal of the tender grass that grew on the
verge, the gentle sounds of her grazing suddenly loud in the silence
following the elf's admission

Gimli shifted his feet under the weight of his friend's unvoiced plea. He
glanced down at the helmet he held in his hands and turned it fretfully.

"We walk different paths in this campaign, Legolas." He looked at his friend
and was caught by how rarely he saw him like this, at eye level.

Gimli took the opportunity to examine his friend, now recovered from his
injuries and back in fighting form. The great arch of Legolas' carved bow
rose like a wing above the elf's shoulder and his hair had finally grown
long enough to be drawn back in his customary braids. Legolas wore his usual
worn campaign clothes with no more armour than the leather wrist guards
Gimli had inlaid with gold vine work for him this past month. A slight youth
playing at war the eye would say. The dwarf's heart and mind knew the
quality of the warrior.

Gimli shifted again, uncomfortable with the rising tide of emotion
constricting his breathing. The friends had waged war as a partnership for
nearly a century, he worried who would guard the elf's back, and knew he was
being ridiculous.

The dwarf stepped forward and placed a heavy hand on the slim shoulder in
front of him, he met Legolas' clear gaze with his own smouldering intensity.

"Take care on the road. I would be easer if we were together but even apart
we will prevail, if the Valar permit."

Legolas smiled at him and shrugged under his hand. "Both Aragorn and the
sons of Elrond ride with me to work the Valar's will, not to mention a man
or two."

Gimli snorted at Legolas' dismissal of the combined fighting forces of
Gondor and Rohan. He squeezed slightly to transmit his amusement and shook
his head.

"Until Edoras, then?"

"Aye."

Gimli removed his hand allowing the elf to spring to his feet.  For a second
Legolas held his short friend under his eye, then he whirled and flowed  onto
Ascallon's back with his usual uncanny grace.

"Farewell, Gimli."

Legolas saluted his friend with his hand on his heart, then spun Ascallon
and cantered off down the greenway towards the Deep and Aragorn's army. The
elf turned and waved at Gimli once more before vanishing around the first
bend in the road.

Gimli lowered his own hand slowly. Forebodings were for maidens and he had a
war to fight. He jammed his helmet onto his head, thumbed disobedient
moisture from below his eye, and stumped back to meet his troops, mustering
in the great hall.

"I shall miss your company, fool of an elf," he muttered to himself. "A
plague on all men's houses that so disrupt other folk's lives."

He passed grumbling into his own realm, a small force of nature discounted
in the greater scheme of things at men's peril.

Four hours on the road towards the Fords of Isen and Aragorn found in
himself a peace that gave his conscience no pride.

Being on campaign, in armour, it felt as if the rest of his life was lived
in anticipation or regret of this reality, full of horses, men, dust and the
creak of leather on leather.

Partly his peace was the simple relief of an arrow loosed. Their plans were
set; the commanders had their orders, for better or worse events ere moving
forward carrying him with them.

Aragorn's horse missed a step, jogging a pace or two over some unevenness on
the path and the King's reflexes had the animal under control again before
he was even aware of the movement. Aragorn felt his knee brush that of the
elf riding beside him and shared a brief apologetic glance with his friend.

Legolas smiled at him and then turned his attention to the front again, but
Aragorn spared the elf a rather longer scrutiny. He looked well, and that
added to the King's sense of comfort. This was the person who rode on his
left in as many campaigns as he cared to remember.

Beyond him rode the tight anonymous circle of the King's Guard, cocooning
them in a small oasis of privacy.

"You did find some time to spend with your father, these last weeks,
Legolas?"

"Aye," the elf replied evenly. " We had several conversations of an evening.
He even joined a hunt." Legolas' smile broadened, "He is enjoying himself,
not that you would ever get him to admit it."

"Your kindred were a sight to gladden a child's heart, last eve." Aragon
felt a smile relax his own face. "My wife and your father and their company
fading into the woods. Of such are fairy-tales made by mortals."

"Likely; such tales must start somewhere, " Legolas replied, remembering
Earnulf's manfully suppressed tears of the previous eve. His family had
looked equally awestruck at the company they found themselves keeping on the
greensward near the woods. Legolas' apprentice had begged mightily for a
place in this troop even daring a final plea in front of his father and
mother at the end of the feast of farewell given for Arwen and Thranduil.

"One day, Earnulf. Soon enough you will be grown, but not this time, I
think."

The elf had caught the relief on the face of the child's mother and father
at this final proof that the Elf-Lord would not steal their child from them.

They had stood in the twilight and watched as the company of elves and men
dispersed into the woods and back to the citadel respectively, finally
leaving the family and Legolas alone.

Legolas then bowed to Denulf the carter, his wife and their forlorn children
Earnulf and Aethel, and left them to find their beds. Along the path he had
come across Gimli, waiting for him seated on a stump smoking his vile pipe.

The dwarf had walked back to Helm's Deep with him, discussing battle
strategy and Legolas had been fiercely glad of his companionship.

Now the elf scanned the increasingly rolling country they rode through and
noted the scattered crofts and villages that dotted the previously sparsely
populated hillsides. In the distance he could spy small flocks of sheep
biting their way across manicured downs that marched steeper and steeper
into the blue distance until the mountains swallowed them to left and right
at the Gap of Rohan. He imagined shepherds looking down on their formidable
column of soldiers with alarm wondering what disruption such a force would
bring into their lives.

Few trees graced this ragged countryside as they forged up out of the plains
of Rohan. The elf felt exposed.

Soon the advance guard and the King's party crossed the Fords of Isen and
turned at last to the left to trace a large arc around the foothills of Ered
Nimrais and into the vale of the River Adorn.

**

"My Lord, may I crave a boon?"

Arwen looked guilelessly up at Legolas' father from her perch on the back of
the delicate white palfrey Aragorn had provided for her to ride.

Thranduil looked into the dazzling beauty of her eyes and felt an
un-familiar sense of helplessness wash over him.

"I hesitate to say anything, my Lady, " Thranduil allowed the side of his
mouth to crook up in amusement, "for fear of disappointing you, but if it is
in my power to please you, ask on."

"First tell me, are you in a hurry on this journey? Do you have appointments
to keep that I would mar if I ask for a diversion?" Arwen looked earnestly
at the King.

Thranduil looked at her, sensing a trap but unable to put a stop to this
conversation.

"Nay, I ride at my and your leisure, my Lady. What diversion would you
request?" he asked cautiously.

"The city of Edoras lies a day's ride yonder," Arwen waved a graceful arm to
the south. " I would visit with some friends there if you could find the
time to tarry?"

Thranduil felt the frown crease his face even as dismay swept his heart; he
was not fond of men or their cities. To his left he heard Minuial muffle
what sounded like a snort of amusement.

"You have a comment?" Thranduil asked her icily.

His March warden cast him an innocent look she must have learned from Arwen.

"My liege. I have acquaintances in Edoras also, in common with the Queen's,
I would enjoy a visit I am sure."

"You!" Thranduil felt his jaw drop open in amazement. "You… men…but…." The
King spluttered to a halt and squeezed his eyes shut for a second. He was
besieged.

Arwen and Minuial shared a brief opaque look behind the King's back before
turning their attention back to the unfortunate focus of their interest.
Arwen decided to sweeten the pill.

"Forests clothe the foothills of Starkhorn. Mighty trees that hunger for the
touch of the elves they have not known since the first age of this world.
Would you not visit in their vaulted halls even as I take my ease with my
friends in Edoras, my Lord?"

She smiled as if the outcome of her plea was of little concern to her,
glanced up at the blond King and then out into the gathering twilight that
painted the rolling grasslands in tones of gold. The silver thread of the
Entwash glittered like a mithril chain on the edge of her vision. When she
looked south she could see the lowering sun painting the roofs of Meduseld
gold. The King followed her gaze then lifted his to the forest softened
knees of the mountain. He found himself tempted.

"How long a delay?"

"A matter of days, by your leave. A handmaid of mine from seasons past has a
babe; I would visit and coo a little. You would be welcome I am sure if you
would like to seek hospitality?" Arwen looked brightly at him, pretending
not to notice his dismay at the idea of a babe of any kind let alone a human
one.

"Nay I will tarry in the woodland. Minuial will guard you and I suppose
Aragorn's guards will also attempt to keep you safe."

Arwen hoped Throndar's ears were not sharp enough to hear Thranduil's
denigration of his service. She knew she would be safe and was so looking
forward to seeing Gleowyn's babe. Minuial's support was interesting; it was
unlike her to seek out the company of men.

Arwen awarded Thranduil a smile that would rival the sun in the sky, and
then turned her mount to ride back to her honour guard and apprise them of
her plans.

Thranduil looked askance at his March warden. "You have friends in Edoras?"
One blond eyebrow raised in astonished query.

Minuial smiled, "Friends of your son, my Liege. You would enjoy the babe's
mother she has some spirit. Mayhap a visit?" She matched him eyebrow for
eyebrow.

"I am not fond of men and their dwellings, as you well know. I think not,
Minuial. I always thought that you would be an influence to the good on my
son. I am pained that his eccentricities appear to have infected you."

Minuial laughed out loud, and then snorted herself into silence at her Lord's  less than amused look. "I know not what is funnier, that you should think I could influence Legolas, or that you think he has influenced me." She smiled to herself for several paces of her horse then met his eye again.

" Peace, my King. Perhaps Arwen and I will persuade Gleowyn to visit you in
her woods. Would that be acceptable to you?"

Thranduil felt more powerless than he had for many an age. Give him some
necks to hew, or his own woods to rule and right was equal to his will. Give
him two powerful women to deal with and he felt like a doddering fool, or
some callow youth, tongue tied and confused.

"Enough," he snapped.

Minuial bowed in her saddle, and fell back a few paces. Allowing him the
last word, for now.

**

Gimli led his band of picked warriors out of the comforting embrace of
Thrihyrne's tunnels and into the cold and windy dark of the upper reaches of
Harrowdale under the light of the stars. His eyes sought out Earendil
sailing constant in the sky, and he felt comforted by its elvish presence, a
comfort he kept firmly to himself in this company.

Cliffs and spires of the ragged mountains ringed the vale and barred the way
to the Adorn valley where his friends should by now be camped in
anticipation of the battle for Osbaston Keep in the morrow.

Gimli's task was no less precise. Aragorn had charged him, and his people,
with the task of cutting off the supply of sulphur. Blasting powder and its
recipe was a dwarven or wizardly secret no longer, but Gimli and his mine-masters knew no way to manufacture the substance without sulphur; sulphur that ran in yellow seams across the White mountains Aglarond was part of. The mineral was mined in various places in these very hills.

The dwarves had spied out the quarries used by Frecern’s  rebels, the King of Gondor was very tired of  defending his people from the dishonourable use of the substance as a weapon.

Aragorn had taken Gimli's advice on the matter.

"Stop the rebels’ supply, Gimli. I will leave the securing of it to your
discretion, but I want no more explosions from these Withergield traitors."

Aragorn looked grim and determined but Gimli needed no urging. Here was a
task suited to his dwarves and a task they would pursue it with a will.

On the mountainside now two scouts met with his party of warriors and after
whispered consultation with the sentries were led to Gimli.

Gimli was pleased to see that one of the scouts was Dolan, who had proved
himself trustworthy when helping with his rescue from the rising waters in
the Glittering caves.

"The main workings are no more than four hours to the west, my Lord. They
have posted guards but they are unwary. They have two wains loaded and ready
to move at first light. We spied no stockpile outside of the keep. It appears they mine only the amount they are to use soon."

Gimli patted Dolan on the back and gestured for his band to gather close.

"We hie to battle then, for take this diggings we must. Gliver is already
positioned to take the factory out with his greater band. Let us now hurry
to battle and vengeance sore long delayed. " Baruk Khazâd!,” he yelled with
enthusiasm into the uncaring dark.

 " Khazâd ai-mênu!" his warriors completed for him. Then silence fell and
the small army vanished into the hills.

TBC

Reviews are gratefully welcomed, treasured and replied to.

Rose Sared