Author's Note: I'm on a bit of a writing kick recently. This is a lighthearted one-shot without plot, and with hopelessly selected geography, and with mortals who spend far too long in a body of water in late December (sorry about that detail). That being said, it is hopefully a fun and amusing glimpse into developing friendships among the Nine Walkers at the very beginning of their quest. Bookverse. Enjoy!

Washing on the River

30 December, Third Age 3018
Near an unmarked tributary of the Loudwater, not yet to Hollin

Aragorn shrugged his pack off his back and dropped it by the hobbits' pile of bedrolls before turning to Boromir and Gimli.

"Would you like to join me in bathing before we settle in for the evening? Gandalf will stay with the hobbits, I am sure, and they may bathe tomorrow if they do not wish to do so in this cold," Aragorn said to his companions, who had followed close behind him as they returned from surveying the area.

Gimli looked to Gandalf for confirmation of Aragorn's statement and the wizard nodded. He sat on a pack, hunched over in his great robes, as he knocked the bowl of his pipe on the hard ground at his feet to jar out any of his last smoke's reticent pipeweed.

"Go," he said, "Pippin is well-occupied."

And indeed, Pippin was pelting his cousin with wrinkled crabapples several yards away from where the three stood. Merry was trying to ignore him, so he lay back on the faded brown grass to watch the clouds scoot across the darkening sky.

"Besides," Gandalf continued as he stuffed his pipe with weed, "I believe Legolas has already beat you to the river. I saw him pass in a hurry after his scout through the trees."

Gimli grumbled. "He can't have done a thorough job if he returned from his task so quickly."

"You forget he is an elf," said Gandalf, as if that were explanation enough.

"We trust much in the eyes and ears of one elf, I think!" Gimli exclaimed to himself, but he hoisted his axe from his back and laid it too alongside Aragorn's pack.

"Indeed," Aragorn said, sharing a conspiratorial smile with Gandalf. Gimli did not notice.

Boromir, who had stood silently up to this point, unbuckled his own belt and sword and made lingering eye contact with Gandalf before he slipped off his heavy cloak and padded tunic and placed them at the wizard's feet.

"Aye," Gandalf said with a laugh, surprising the man with his response to the unspoken request. "I will watch your weapons! Though who you think will be stealing them out here is beyond even my supposing."

They were all tired, and Boromir had grown weary of his companions' teasing.

"Let us go, then," Boromir said hastily, and he set off at a pace toward the wide river below their campsite.

Aragorn and Gimli followed Boromir down the slope toward the water. Gimli grumbled when his heavy boot caught on the uneven terrain halfway down, and Aragorn caught him lightly by the elbow.

"You are so fast one could even mistake you for our sneaky elf," Gimli whispered to him, but Aragorn laughed merrily for he knew Gimli said it from his own place of peculiar humor.

The ground rolled from its descent back up for a few feet and the three lost for a moment the sight of the river. But once they had crested the elevation and were now only a few yards from the river's edge, they saw finally their elven companion, who until that point had been hidden by the hill's rolling terrain.

Legolas sat half-naked on a stone that perched partway in and out of the water, near the shore but facing away from the hill, with his feet planted in the water in front of him. His bare back was bent and the material of his leggings somewhat damp. His companions could tell he had one elbow pressed into his knee from the way his bare back curved and his hands pulled at the hair on one side of his head. Surely, the elf had heard their approach, but even now he did not turn, waiting instead for the company to make their final descent to the water's edge.

Aragorn laid his sword on the ground beside Legolas' weapons and shoes and neatly folded pile of tunic and outer garments, and Gimli pulled off his heavy tunic and belt and threw them noisily to the ground.

"You are lucky we are not an enemy, Legolas," Gimli said, bending over to unbuckle his boots. He pulled out one foot with a satisfied sigh. "You do not move to see us."

"I heard you a long time ago," Legolas said, laughing, and he turned now to face them and dropped his hands from his hair, which hung wet and limp and was bunched and knotted on one side. "I know your footsteps by now without needing to see your faces!"

"And that is what we need your ears for!" said Aragorn. "Be glad it is so, Gimli, for you do not want to be on the wrong end of a Mirkwood archer's bow."

"So I have heard," Gimli said crossly.

Boromir pulled off his boots and slipped off his overshirt. He stood now only in his breeches and queried his companions tersely.

"Well, are we bathing or am I the only one who plans to bare myself fully to the cold and the eyes of my fellows?"

Aragorn pulled off the rest of his clothes and stepped into the water, and Boromir too finally stripped off his pants and folded them by the river, following his companion across the rocky riverbed.

As the humans stepped in, Legolas stood from the rock on which he perched and jumped lightly out. He landed by the pile of weapons, and his neatly folded clothes, and by Gimli's more disorganized heap.

"I will clean my boots first, I think," Gimli called to Aragorn and Boromir, and he sunk to the ground beside his things. He dug a handkerchief from a pocket and picked up his boots.

"And I will wash my clothes, I think," said Legolas, bending over close to Gimli. His wet and tangled hair swung near Gimli's face.

"You will catch your death in wet clothes out here," said Gimli. "You seem already a sack of bones. And what in the name of Mahal has happened to your hair? It looks like a bird's nest."

"Aye, as does yours!" Legolas laughed. "No, I jest, Gimli; do not take offense. It is tree sap and I cannot get it out. I am not quite sure what I will do about it. Do you want oil for the leather of your boots?"

Gimli looked up at the elf, who held now his folded clothes tightly to his slim chest and considered the dwarf expectantly.

"Just cut it out," Gimli said. "The sap, I mean."

Legolas raised an eyebrow at him but did not reply.

"Fine then, have it your way. It is no concern of mine if you look ridiculous," Gimli said. "And no, I do not need oil for my boots. They just need to be clean enough; they do not need to look pretty, too."

Legolas tilted his head to the side, unsure of whether he was being mocked. Eventually he shrugged.

"It is good for keeping the water out, but have it your way, Master Dwarf!" he said.

And then Legolas walked to the edge of the river and tossed his clothes in the shallows; he waded in after them.

Boromir and Aragorn turned at the sound of the fabric hitting the shallow water, and Boromir stopped in cleaning his sore legs to raise an eyebrow at Aragorn.

"I will admit that I do not know much of elves," he said quietly. "But are all so… Enthusiastic? I am not always sure of how to act with Legolas."

Aragorn smiled. "Elves are sometimes peculiar, and very different from one another based on their homeland. But overall they are not so different from Men, and though Legolas is from Mirkwood, which is quite unique in itself, I believe his idiosyncracies are his own."

"Hm," said Boromir, stepping off the rock they stood upon together to submerge himself to the neck in the middle of the deep and slow-moving pool, closer to the far edge of the river.

"And he can likely hear you speak your opinion of him from here, I imagine," said Aragorn. "His ears are sharp and also well-trained."

"Just my luck," said Boromir, ducking his head for a moment into the water. "Our elven sentry, turned against me!"

Aragorn chuckled.

Legolas sat now on his haunches and rubbed vigorously at his clothes in the faster moving water. His hair swung about his face and gripped at his damp shoulders as his upper body swayed with the effort, and eventually he picked up his tunic and beat it a few times on the water's surface, before bringing it close to his face for inspection.

"What in all Middle-earth are you doing?" Gimli called to Legolas. He had finished cleaning both boots and stood now at the water's edge in naught but his light undergarments.

"Washing my clothes!" Legolas exclaimed simply.

"Nay, you are beating your clothes as if they have offended you," said Gimli.

Legolas shrugged. "Sweat and dirt from the land I can abide, for they are a reminder of our connection to the land and our purpose on Arda. But blood of friends or the stain of enemies? I would rather not carry that around with me. I can smell it."

"You can smell it," Gimli said flatly.

"Is that not what I just said?" Legolas replied quizzically.

"It is," said the dwarf.

"Oh," said Legolas, stepping out of the water and holding his now dripping clothes to his chest so that water ran down in rivulets to soak fully the front of his leggings.

Legolas raised his clothes to his face once more and sniffed them.

"I think now they are clean," he said, and dropped them to the rocks at his feet.

"Wonderful," Gimli replied, bending to pull off his undergarments and huffing as the elf took handfuls of arrows from the quiver beside Gimli until it was entirely empty.

"Must you sit so close while I unclothe?" asked Gimli gruffly.

"I am looking for something," Legolas said.

"You are looking for something in your quiver," said Gimli flatly, "something besides your arrows."

"Yes, I am looking for something in here; I am not looking at you," said Legolas, tipping his quiver now upside down. He looked up at the dwarf and smiled brightly. "Do not worry, Master Gimli; I have no proclivity at all for dwarves."

Gimli's mouth dropped open, and he froze with his pants around his feet and guffawed.

"For goodness sake, Gimli. I jest again!" Legolas said. "Can you not yet tell when I am teasing?"

Legolas grasped now a small comb in his right hand and restocked his quiver with the other. He dropped the quiver back to the ground so it clattered on his white knife and an arrow spilled back out of it onto his airy undershirt—his only dry garment left—though Legolas seemed to take no notice of the sound.

"Undress and bathe before the hour grows late, if you plan to," Legolas said to the naked and shocked dwarf.

And now Legolas shoved the comb into the wet mass of tangled hair at the side of his face for temporary safe-keeping. He pulled off his wet leggings so he too stood completely nude, and then laid them on a rock to dry; he spread his tunic and thicker overshirt beside them.

"Come now! It grows dark and we will be needed soon to prepare dinner. Besides, I plan to yet find some fish," said Legolas to the still insensate dwarf.

Gimli blinked at the elf and opened his mouth to speak. This was too much for him.

"You plan to find some fish," he said, again flatly.

"Aye, I plan to catch some for our dinner, once this mess is dealt with!" Legolas gestured to his hair. "Is that not what I just said? Am I that slow in my Westron today?"

The elf looked for a moment panicked at the prospect.

"No, no," said Gimli quickly and assuringly. "You speak well. I just do not know how you plan to catch fish."

"Neither do I," said Legolas, and he leaned back for a moment and laughed brightly. "I had not thought about that yet, only that we should have fish."

And with that the elf turned on his heels on the small rock on which he balanced and bounded through the shallows, picking his feet up high above the water with each leap so he would not slip on the algae-covered rocks.

"You carry a comb with you, tucked among your weapons?" Gimli called to him, as he picked his way tremulously through the slippery shallows.

"Where else would I carry it?" Legolas asked, floating now on his back in the deep pool several feet away from Aragorn and Boromir.

Aragorn and Boromir sat on the long flat rock in the middle of the river between the shallows and the swimming hole, and had been discussing their route to Gondor before Gimli and Legolas joined them. Both fell silent now as the elf and dwarf continued their conversation.

"That wasn't exactly what I was asking," Gimli muttered to himself, as he finally reached the deep pool and settled onto the rock with his human companions.

Gimli hung his legs from the side of the rock and begun to quickly wash his feet in the cold water. Shifting forward farther, he rubbed the water up his legs and then with a reluctant sigh, dropped his whole self into the cold, before lowering his head beneath the surface.

Boromir now spoke up as Gimli resurfaced.

"I think what Gimli is asking, Master Elf," said Boromir, "is why you carry a comb with you at all. Though to me the answer to that is obvious, having now seen that mess on your head."

Legolas smiled at the sky as he floated and then reached one arm to his head to pull out the comb. He let his legs drop into the water and sink to the rocks below, and he began picking at the matted hair from its tips, working the comb up his locks until he met the offensive sap and grimaced.

"It is a small thing and easily carried. I am not sure what else one would use to remove dirt from their hair," Legolas said. "Arrows? A stick? That would be ridiculous."

"Ridiculous indeed," Gimli murmured as he ran his fingers through his beard and then dipped it into the water to cleanse.

Legolas worked at the sap that stuck in his hair from the tip of his ear to his crown, and Aragorn watched him yank at it with mounting frustration. Finally, he flopped back into the water and floated again on his back, the comb stuck fixedly against his head.

He pulled it out and extended his hand toward Gimli, who was scrubbing now his own scalp.

"It seems you may have a use for this yourself. You may use it if you wish," Legolas said, not moving his eyes from the winter sky but leaving his arm extended.

"I do not wish it," Gimli said gruffly, and he roughly pushed away the comb and Legolas' hand, and then returned to his hair's ministration.

Legolas stood again in a flurry and pressed his hands into the small of his back so that his arms formed triangles to either side of his lithe form. He stared at the bathing dwarf.

"There is something happening here that I do not understand," Legolas said.

"I would not be surprised at that," Gimli replied cooly.

"I do not know what I did to make your mood toward me shift so quickly. I only jested with you twice!" Legolas exclaimed.

Gimli finished washing his hair and looked at Legolas exasperatedly.

"You confuse me!" he finally cried, throwing up his hands. "Everything about you is like reading a book in a language I do not understand!"

Then Gimli clambered out of the water onto the flat rock, spraying the drying Aragorn and Boromir with the splash; both men looked surprised.

"I go back to camp," Gimli called, moving now with haste through the shallows.

Legolas watched him retreat and violently yank his clothes on as he reached the bank, upsetting Legolas' quiver in his haste to hurry up the hill. Boromir shrugged.

"I do not think you did anything to reasonably offend him, Master Elf," said Boromir. "It will be well. I too will go back to camp and help the hobbits."

Legolas nodded at him and dropped his hands to his sides so his fingertips grazed the water's surface. The look in his eyes was distant.

"Tell Gandalf both of us will be back soon. I would finish drying and talk with Legolas some," Aragorn told Boromir, who also nodded, and then was gone.

Legolas had slipped the comb back into his knotted hair and sat on his haunches on a rock across the deep pool from Aragorn, his eyes tracking something Aragorn could not see. In a flash, Legolas' arm shot out into the depths along the edge of a rock, and he almost pitched forward in his eagerness. But the elf caught his balance and when he straightened there was a flopping trout squeezed tightly in his hand. Legolas struck the fish's head hard on the rock on which he sat, disposing of it painlessly.

Aragorn grinned at him.

"I suppose we will have fish for supper!" Aragorn said. "I think Sam will be quite happy to have something fresh to cook."

"Aye," said Legolas, seeming to have forgotten Gimli's unexplained reaction to him already. "Take this one and I will catch us some more."

Legolas tossed the fish lightly to Aragorn, and he caught it in both hands and laid it on the rock beside him.

"You have swift hands," Aragorn commented.

"It is how I first learned to fish," said Legolas softly, resuming his motionless position on the rock and staring back into the pool. "I spent a lot of time on the banks of the Forest River as a child, and then we did not carry poles on patrols when I was young for they were cumbersome, so I used my hands. Fish were easier to prepare than taking down a whole deer, anyway, as I'm sure you know."

"I do," said Aragorn.

Aragorn watched the elf fish thusly for a half-hour—switching rocks on one occasion once the fish caught onto his game—until Legolas had caught and killed twelve. Aragorn had grown very cold without his clothes and was becoming eager to dress and retreat to camp, though not too eager to forgo the opportunity to speak with Legolas alone.

"Let us gut them at the water's edge so we do not bring the smell back to camp," said Legolas.

He tossed Aragorn the last fish, and Aragorn caught it as the elf slipped back into the pool and waded across to his rock.

"Fair enough," said Aragorn. "But let me first take a look at that sap. I grew up in Rivendell and learned a trick at removing it, from Lord Elrond's sons."

"All right," said the elf, hefting himself onto the rock by his arms and sitting cross-legged to face the ranger.

"I heard Gimli ask you to just cut it out, but I am sure that was not agreeable to you," said Aragorn.

"It was not," said Legolas. "I do not think he understands elvish culture."

"I would say he does not," Aragorn agreed.

Picking up one of the fish and holding it firmly at the head and the tail, he scraped its side roughly on the edge of the rock, until he had peeled back all the scales from one section.

"Though also do you not understand the culture of his kind," Aragorn concluded.

"That is true," Legolas said, smiling at the man. "I will work on it, if he will let me, for the sake of the Fellowship."

"Good," Aragorn grunted.

He gave a yank and a length of the fish's skin came off. Mucous coated the underside and a gooey string connected the scales to the meat on its many ribs.

"What are you doing?" Legolas asked, his smile faltering as he looked confusedly at Aragorn and the fish skin he dangled between two fingers.

"You may not like this, but it works, though I never asked how they figured it out," said Aragorn.

"I am sure I have endured worse than whatever it is you plan to do to my hair with fish skin," Legolas said merrily.

"I am sure you have," Aragorn murmured darkly, thinking of his own trip into Mirkwood with Gollum the spring before.

Aragorn pulled the comb from the elf's hair and pushed it into Legolas' chest. He then divided the sticky mess from the rest of Legolas' scalp and held the fish skin flat in one hand. Legolas scrunched his nose at the scent but otherwise did not react as Aragorn folded the mucinous side of the scales around the lock and dragged it from top to bottom. Aragorn finally unfolded the skin and set to rubbing at the sap that matted the hair closest to the elf's crown. The mucous and scales tore off until there was just a rag of fish skin left, for the rest was well ground into the elf's hair and scalp.

"You need not worry about smelling young Merry's blood on your clothes, at this point, I think," Aragorn said with mock grimness, flicking the scales from his hand into the water. "For now, you smell a bit like fish."

Legolas laughed and shrugged. Aragorn took the comb back from him.

"I have smelled of worse," said the elf.

Aragorn worked the comb now from the top to bottom of Legolas' locks, and the mucous from the fish's scales helped to sluice the sap away, sliding it further down Legolas' hair until it came out in a clump, along with a ball of broken hairs, in the comb's teeth.

Aragorn picked the sap and hair out of the comb and tossed the mass into the deep water, which bore it slowly away. He pulled the comb through Legolas' hair one more time to be sure it was fully clean, and then bid the elf stick his head in the water to rinse out the lingering fish.

"That is a fine trick, Aragorn!" Legolas exclaimed, once his hair was again clean. He ran his fingers through it and started to braid it back from his face with practiced fingers. "Thank you!"

Aragorn grabbed one of Legolas' arms and met his eyes. "Let me do that."

Legolas narrowed his eyes and considered Aragorn momentarily before he simply nodded, and turned his body away from Aragorn obligingly. Aragorn rose to his knees and knelt behind Legolas, picking up hair from beneath each ear and braiding the strands together tightly to bind his hair temporarily in place.

Aragorn then picked up three sections from the top of Legolas' head and plaited them tightly to his crown, drawing once in a while loose pieces from the sides of the elf's face to the larger braid. Aragorn undid the temporary thong of hair with one hand before adding those pieces into the braid and then picking up the last locks of hair at the nape of Legolas' neck. He quickly braided the remaining hair plainly, until the length of Legolas' hair was completely braided. Aragorn laid it flat on Legolas' back between his shoulder blades. He pulled a length of short leather from his own hair and wrapped it around the tip of Legolas' braid, securing it tightly and tucking in the ends.

"There," said Aragorn, patting Legolas' shoulder lightly.

Legolas turned back around to thank him.

"That was very thoughtful of you," said Legolas. "It is very tender for a man to offer to help an elf in such a way. I feel now more trusting of you in an unexplainable way."

"Good. I would that you were comfortable among us on this journey," said Aragorn, before grinning a small grin. "It can be difficult to adjust to travelling with mortals, or so I have been told."

Legolas considered Aragorn for a moment before dropping his eyes to his lap and running his hands over his head, fidgeting with a loose strand.

"Anyway," Aragorn continued, "it grows cold and we have yet many fish to skin! Let us dress and just take the fish back with us to camp. Our company can endure the smell, and we can then warm by the fire."

"A fine idea," Legolas said. "Besides, then they will think the lingering smell comes just from the fish and not from my hair. I do not think Gimli would bear it quietly, if he found out I smeared dead fish in my hair over a bit of sap, instead of just cutting it out."

Aragorn stood and held out a hand for the elf to rise with him.

"I think you are right," Aragorn said, grinning.

And then the two gathered the fish in their arms—across their recently cleaned chests—and headed to the bank. Aragorn pulled on his dry clothes and began strapping on his weapons, while Legolas slipped into his damp leggings and the dry sleeveless undershirt. He fastened his belt and knife at his hips and shrugged his quiver straps over his head, buckling the strap also around his chest. Legolas then folded his still wet tunic and overshirt and rolled them up together so he could tuck them under one arm. Aragorn held out two handfuls of fish to him and Legolas took them, holding three in each hand and pressed against his chest.

"Well then!" Legolas said merrily as the sun dipped below the treeline. "Let us return with our bounty to the others!"

And he took off with a laugh up the rocky bank and rolling hill, and Aragorn started and followed after him, crying out too in joy of the chase, and for several long moments his heart on this dark journey felt lighter.

He watched Legolas run into camp ahead of him and the hobbits' voices rose in an appreciative chorus when they saw the fish. Legolas dropped the fish on the ground and waved for Aragorn to hurry toward them with his own bounty. As Aragorn entered the camp he saw Legolas patting Pippin's head, and even Gimli's face had split into a grin.

The fish was good that night, and the elf and dwarf did not quarrel afterward, but lay side by side on their backs watching the stars, lulled to sleep in the moment of calm and silence.

As Aragorn sat up on watch and observed the pair lost to their own versions of dreams, Aragorn was thankful for the selection of their candid and fierce-yet tender and mirthful-elven companion. And though he had no way of truly knowing it, he knew in that moment that Legolas would bring relief and joy to all those in their Fellowship, even if Gimli was not yet ready to accept his gift.

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