Title: Forging Friendships

Rating: PG

Beta:

Warnings: elven humor, hobbit humor

Spoilers: FOTR, some of my stories perhaps

Disclaimer: It’s not stealing, it’s borrowing without permission! No profit is being made, this is just for fun.

Dedication: for my daughter, Tori

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At Aragorn and Elrond’s insistence, the Fellowship spent as much time as possible together, getting to know one another and building trust. The hobbits were always present as were Boromir and Gimli. Aragorn and Legolas were present as often as possible. Both were participating in scouting missions and border patrols that took them away at times. Legolas also had made a short trip back to Mirkwood. Gandalf appeared when it suited him, since most of the Fellowship already knew and trusted him. The sons of Elrond also took to keeping company with the Fellowship as well, because they had discovered that a good time was almost always to be had in the presence of hobbits.

The primary, and most serious, area of friction within the group was predictably between the elf and the dwarf. Given that the normal sentiment in Mirkwood was not favorable toward dwarves, Legolas’ attitude toward Gimli was not surprising. He largely ignored the dwarf, but was quick to respond with a cutting retort to any comment the dwarf directed at him that was less than civil. Unfortunately, few of the comments Gimli directed at the elf could even remotely be considered civil, the dwarf‘s attitude toward Legolas mirroring the elf‘s toward Gimli. Aragorn had taken the position of keeper of the peace and stepped in when the exchanges became heated, sending both parties in separate directions to cool their tempers.

This particular day, the group had taken their noon meal by one of the scenic pools in the valley. Gandalf and Gimli were in an animated discussion of the Battle of Five Armies. The rest of the group was quiet, following the discussion with interest. Even Legolas, who was teaching Pippin to make arrows, listened intently.

“Father told me that the eagles turned the tide. Had they not come, none would have lived to tell the tale.” Gimli puffed on his pipe thoughtfully. Gandalf nodded in agreement.

“Aye, fortunate indeed were we that Gwaihir and his folk were keeping their eyes on the orcs. Still, there were far too many losses in that battle, and many injuries,” he declared, his eyes resting on Legolas. Legolas smiled at him as he added his own comment.

“Aye, but wounds heal and those who survive tell the tale to those who come after.” He grinned down at the hobbit at his side.

“Were you there, too, Legolas?” Pippin’s bright eyes searched his companion’s face.

“Yes, I was.” Legolas’ reply was brief, but his tone was amiable.

“Did you see the eagles, too?”

“No, I am afraid that I missed that part of the battle. The hill I was on was overrun by warg riders before the eagles arrived.” Legolas’ expression was serene, his voice even. Aragorn moved to the elf’s side, his curiosity piqued.

“You have never told me this tale, mellon-nin. Were you badly injured?” The human clasped Legolas’ shoulder. Legolas grinned at him.

“Oh, it looked a great deal worse than it actually was. It was just an arrow to the shoulder, a sword slash across my side, and a rather nasty set of bruises to the side of my head. I would have fared better had I not spent several hours buried under a heap of orc corpses.” He shrugged, a bit uncomfortable at being the center of attention. “I recovered quickly, once I was found.”

“But, you were only found because one of the elves searching for you saw your foot sticking out from under that pile of orcs. And as I recall, they very nearly had to tie you down to keep you in your bed.” Gandalf’s voice was heavily laced with amusement. Legolas had the grace to look embarrassed.

“Oh, not you too! Ada is bad enough. He still dredges it up when he is displeased with me.”

“Which is quite often knowing you, pen neth.” Gandalf chuckled at the elf’s slightly pink cheeks and ears. “In all seriousness, Legolas, you scared the liver out of your father with that one, so I do not doubt that he still dwells on it. I was there when they carried you in, and I can assure you that you looked more dead than alive at that point.”

“Still, I did survive. A great many did not, elves, dwarves, and men. Their sacrifice was far greater, and rightfully should be spoken of more than my experiences.” Legolas met the Istari’s eyes steadily. Gandalf smiled warmly at him.

“Well spoken, pen neth. You are correct.” The wizard puffed on his pipe, the expression in his eyes one of sorrow for departed friends. Gimli snorted.

“Well and good to say that, but tell it to that damned king of yours.” The dwarf’s bearded chin was thrust out in a challenging manner. Legolas’ fair face flushed with fury and he spat out a long string of Sindarin before rising and stalking off. Merry leaned over to Frodo.

“What did he say?” Frodo shook his head emphatically.

“What little I understood, I will not repeat.”

Aragorn growled in annoyance and rounded on the dwarf. “That was uncalled for, Gimli! He had said or done nothing to you.” Gimli scowled, but remained silent.

“Indeed, it was a pleasant gathering until just now. Aragorn is correct, Gimli. Legolas did not deserve that. I agree that he is as likely to be at fault in your verbal battles as you are usually, but this day he had done nothing to provoke you.”

“Bah! I spoke the truth and you know it! It is the elf’s own fault if he cannot bear to hear it.” Gimli scowled fiercely, unwilling to admit to fault.

“Nay, not truth but your father’s bitterness over his stay in Thranduil’s caverns. May I remind you that none of them were mistreated in any way, and had Thorin but answered Thranduil’s questions he likely would have released the lot of them? It was their own folly and stubbornness that got them into that particular pickle to begin with and do not pretend otherwise. I warned them to stay on the trail and they heeded me not. I do not pretend that Thranduil is without his own faults, nor does he for that matter. And you will not torment Legolas for something that he was not even present to witness and had no hand in.” Gandalf scowled back at Gimli twice as fiercely. Gimli growled in annoyance and stomped off in the direction opposite the one Legolas had taken. Gandalf sighed and shook his head.

“Let them both cool off a bit. I will talk to Legolas. It would be best I think, if you spoke with Gimli.” Aragorn lit his own pipe and puffed on it thoughtfully. “Regardless of what Legolas might think of Gimli, he is a very disciplined warrior and he will not let his personal feelings get in the way of his duty.”

“Nor will Gimli. I had hoped that they might find common ground, but I suppose that the best we can hope for is a cessation of hostilities.” Gandalf blew a series of smoke rings. “I do wish that Gimli had chosen a different insult.” Aragorn merely nodded, leaving the hobbits to stew in their curiosity. Pippin waited until he was certain that the ranger and the Istari would say nothing more of interest, and then he slipped off to search for the elf.

He found Legolas strictly by chance. The hobbit tripped over a root of the tree Legolas happened to be brooding in and fell sprawling onto the path. The elf jumped down to land lightly by Pippin’s side.

“Pippin, are you hurt?” Legolas helped him sit up.

“Just my pride, I think. Some bloody good tracker I turned out to be.” Pippin chuckled at himself, and then cast a concerned look at the elf. “Are you all right?” Legolas avoided eye contact as he helped the hobbit to his feet.

“I am well. I am more concerned with you at the moment. Can you walk without limping?” Pippin grinned cheekily up at him.

“Oh, not to worry! We hobbits are a lot tougher than we look.” His expression turned serious again. “Legolas are you really all right or are you just pretending to be?” Legolas sighed, realizing that Pippin was not going to be deterred. He stood and motioned the hobbit to precede him to a grassy area off the path. They sat and for a few minutes the elf was silent.

“Pippin, does your family know where you are?” The hobbit looked shocked, but answered readily.

“Well, yes, but they don’t know where I will be. I mean, they know I’m here in Rivendell with Merry and Frodo, but not about the quest. I didn’t want to worry them. Why do you ask?” Pippin studied his companion closely. Legolas appeared to be thinking very hard.

“When I was away the last time, I went to see my father to tell him about the quest.” Legolas stared out across the garden they sat next to. “I had to tell him the truth because it might have been the last time that I will ever see him. He was not happy, but he understood why I have to do this.” The elf sighed heavily, his fingers moving lightly across the grass by his knee. “I have been thinking too much about that, and then I allowed Gimli’s thoughtless words to anger me more than they should have.” Pippin frowned a bit.

“Well, he did insult your king. I think you’ve a right to be upset about that.” Legolas laughed humorlessly.

“Not just my king, Pippin. He insulted my father.” Pippin stared.

“The king is your father?” Legolas nodded, drew his knees up to his chest and laid his head on them, his hair obscuring his face. Pippin stood and moved closer to the elf, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because I wanted you to judge me on my own merit and not as Thranduil’s son.” He raised his head and looked the hobbit in the eye steadily. “Pippin, I respect my father more than any other elf, and I love him very much. He is a good king and a good father, regardless of what is said of him by those who do not know him. He raised me never to trade on my rank, or to take it for granted.” Legolas smiled a bit sadly. “As restless as I get when I am home, I do miss him when I am away.”

“I understand. I miss my mum and da, but I have to do this. I can’t let Frodo do this without his family.” Legolas nodded and they fell silent. Pippin sat back down and leaned his back against Legolas’ side. Legolas gave him an amused look, but made no comment. A bit later, Aragorn approached and Pippin excused himself citing the need for food. Aragorn sat down by the elf and regarded him for a moment. Legolas sighed.

“I am fine, Estel, and I apologize for allowing my temper to get the better of me.” He favored the ranger with a sour look. “I know you and Mithrandir were hoping that Gimli and I could let the past stay in the past but we are sons of our fathers and perhaps the best we can do is tolerate each other’s presence.”

“I will not deny that that is what we hoped, but tolerance is better than nothing.” Aragorn clasped his friend’s shoulder. “Right now I am more concerned about why you got so upset. Did you and your Adar argue?” Legolas shook his head.

“No, we parted on good terms. He is not happy about this, but he does understand. He fears for me, and rightly so.” Legolas met Aragorn’s eyes. “As I fear for him in the days to come. Estel, we both know that once Sauron makes his move, he is as likely to move from Dol Goldur as he is from Mordor. My father will be in the thick of any battle that takes place. He lost his father in the last war against Sauron. I do not wish to lose mine in this one and he does not wish to lose me. Either and both are likely.” He impatiently shoved a stray lock of his hair out of his face. “I am not fit company today. I should have stayed away.”

“Legolas, will you stop? I thought you were doing quite well with Pippin. That one could do with some guidance.” Legolas’ chuckle made Aragorn grin.

“Oh, he is just young. You do know that he has not even reached his majority yet, do you not?” Legolas looked amused at Aragorn’s shock. “He has a good heart under all that mischief and he is very loyal to his friends. He came looking for me because he was concerned about me. I just hope that he does not decide that Gimli is in need of any of his mischief because of this. One of us should talk to him. Or perhaps Frodo should. He seems to heed his cousin’s words over anyone else’s.”

“I will speak to Frodo. In the meantime, why do you not seek more pleasant company than mine? That always does put you in a better frame of mind.” He grinned slyly at the elf. Legolas gave him a half hearted shove, pleasantly reminded of their younger days. Aragorn laughed and squeezed his shoulder affectionately before rising and heading back towards the House.

Legolas sighed. In his present mood, he was no fit company for a lady either. He contemplated returning to the treetops for several moments until a slight noise from behind him alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone.

“Is our fair prince of Mirkwood brooding again, brother? That simply will not do.” Elladan dropped gracefully into a sitting position on Legolas’ left side as Elrohir dropped down on his right.

“No indeed, brother. It will not do at all. What do you suggest?” Elrohir’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Legolas chuckled in spite of himself.

“He laughs! That is encouraging. The situation is not as dire as we feared.” Elladan seemed to look through Legolas for a bit. “I recommend a bit of intense physical activity. Come on, mellon-nin; let us go practice our skills with our blades.” He stood and held one hand out to Legolas and one to his twin. They clasped his hands and he pulled them both to their feet. Each twin draped an arm across Legolas’ shoulders as they steered him toward the practice yard. Legolas was surprised to find that he was grinning.

After the hobbits had eaten again, they accompanied Boromir to the practice yard for instruction in the use of the short swords they had been given. As they entered the yard, however, it became evident that it was currently in use.

Legolas and Elrohir circled each other, oblivious to their new audience. Both elves had stripped to the waist. Legolas was armed with his twin knives, Elrohir with a sword. As if by unspoken signal, they lunged. Weapons met and deflected each other. The combatants spun away and then re-engaged, blades flashing and moving almost too quickly to be seen. Elrohir swung at Legolas, who leapt into the air, allowing his opponent’s blade to pass beneath his feet. As soon as Legolas’ feet touched the ground, he dropped to kneel in the dust and brought his blade up under Elrohir’s guard. The son of Elrond parried the blow with some effort. Stepping back, he slashed to Legolas’ midsection. The prince dove under his blade and rolled back up to his feet behind Elrohir. Grinning, he tapped the dark haired elf on the shoulder with the flat of one of his blades. From his vantage point across the yard, Elladan chortled.

“He has you there, brother! Nicely done, tithen ernil!” Elladan was grinning almost as widely as Legolas. The elves sheathed their weapons and gathered up their gear. Elladan nodded politely to Boromir and winked at the hobbits as he and Elrohir exited the yard on their way to their rooms. Elrohir merely grinned at all of them in passing. Legolas lingered long enough to exchange pleasantries before heading toward his own rooms.

Legolas contemplated requesting dinner in his rooms, discarded the idea quickly. He would have dinner in the hall with everyone else and attend the festivities in the Hall of Fire afterwards. Besides his desire not to allow the dwarf to believe he had won, there would certainly be quite a few lovely ladies about.