Into the West

A Legolas and Gimli story by talking2myself

DISCLAIMER: see chapter 1

"Unwearied then were Durin's folk

Beneath the mountain's music woke

The harpers harped, the minstrels rang

And at the gate the trumpets rang"

-Dwarven battle poem

THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING

Chapter. 29

Frodo was a little bit surprised to find Legolas sitting in one of the small kitchens of the palace. He was even more surprised to find a half-drunken goblet of wine in his hand. Frodo had seen Legolas beat Gimli at a drinking contest so he knew that Legolas could hold his alcohol, but the elf rarely indulged in wine. "Good morning, Legolas," Frodo said pulling up a chair next to him.

"Frodo," Legolas nodded.

"What are you doing?" Frodo asked.

"Preparing myself," Legolas said taking another sip.

"For what?" Frodo asked.

"The meeting," Legolas said, "Between my father and Gloin." Legolas looked at his glass, "I may need something stronger than this afterwards."

"I like Gloin," Frodo said, "He's a good dwarf. Knowledgeable, fierce, strong."

"A dwarf," Legolas pointed out.

"So?" Frodo shrugged.

"My father would rather conduct business with a warg before a dwarf," Legolas said. Frodo chuckled. "I see you've managed to educate Orophin."

"It wasn't easy," Frodo said filling himself a goblet of wine, "I've seen hobbit children learn faster. And now he's all concerned about his brother and Aralnel. They're in love apparently."

Legolas shrugged, "It makes sense."

Frodo looked up at Legolas with a smile, "Treka, says that they're not the only ones." Legolas frowned and looked down. "Why don't you break off this foolish marriage? You don't love Hareth. Hareth doesn't love you."

"It's a tradition, Frodo," Legolas said, "We've been engaged since we were children. That's hundreds of years before your grandfather drew his first breath."

"In the shire, folks only marry for love," Frodo shrugged, "But perhaps that's just us simple rustic folk. Will you have this wedding now? Surrounded by darkness?"

"I don't know," Legolas said.

"That reminds me," Frodo said, "This seems odd to me. We were being constantly chased by orcs and wraiths, but all of sudden they just... stopped."

"That's true," Legolas agreed.

"What does it mean?" Frodo asked. Legolas didn't say anything. "I think they're planning something," Frodo said quietly, "Rallying their troops together." Legolas looked up at Frodo in surprise. Perhaps the wide eyed hobbit wasn't as naive as he once thought. "Maybe you can discuss that with your father and Gloin?" Frodo said.

"I will." Legolas agreed.

Frodo raised his goblet in a toast, "To peace in our world."

Legolas clinked his own glass against Frodo's, "To peace."

-888-

Aral sat up and attempted to smooth down her tangled hair. She sat on a picnic blanket with Rumil a short distance away. Their discarded picnic basket lay there untouched. Rumil sat up and Aral started giggling some more. "What?!" Rumil demanded, "What is it?"

"There's more of my lip rouge on your face than on mine," Aral laughed. Rumil blushed and instantly began wiping his face with the corner of the blanket. When, it didn't come off immediately Aralnel began laughing harder.

"Why do have to wear the cursed stuff anyway?!" Rumil cried in a flustered voice.

"You're so cute when you're frustrated," Aral smiled, "Your face turns red and you use that authoritative voice."

"I do not!" Rumil retorted only proving Aral's point. "Well, maybe a little." Aral was smiling at him. A smile which both enchanted and infuriated him. It was a very strange emotion. He cleared his throat, "We should be heading back. Orophin will be going mad if we stay out here too long."

Aral groaned. Orophin's constant spying was the reason that they had left the palace walls for their little picnic in the woods. "Very well," she sighed as she got to her feet. She picked up their basket. Rumil helped her onto the horse's back before the two head back towards the palace. "I don't want to go back," Aral pouted, "It's so peaceful out here. The sky. The trees. The chirping birds... wait." Aral strained her ears, "The birds!"

"What about them?" Rumil asked.

"I can't hear them," Aral said, "It's gone quiet." Rumil paused and listened. Gradually, Rumil heard something.

"Something's coming!" he cried. He listened more carefully. "Aral watch out!" he cried suddenly throwing himself protectively around Aralnel. He let out a grunt of pain. Aral lifted her head long enough to see an arrow protruding out of his shoulder. She threw her hands over her mouth willing herself not to scream. "We have to get out of here!" he whispered. He clenched his teeth with pain. Aral nodded and positioned herself so she could steer the horse.

"Hold on!" she ordered. Rumil nodded and Aral urgently whispered to the horse. They charged through the woodlands as fast as they could. Aral looked over her shoulder and gasped. Out of nowhere a party of orcs sprang out swarming around them. Aral's horse reared up in fear nearly throwing them off. Aral whispered to the horse attempting to calm it all while reaching for the sword at her side. She heard one of the orcs yell.

"Hey! She's one of them! One of the elves that got away!" she found the voice of the orc speaking. Vrack. The small, but feisty orc from before. The little orc was shoved aside by the massive Ragrack. He was just as terrifying as she remembered.

The big orc leader leered at the two captives. "I will enjoy tearing you two apart," he snarled.

"Don't touch her!" Rumil hissed, "I'll kill you if you try and..."

His theats were cut short by battle cries. Another party charged into the scene. Aral's mouth hung open as she watched the battle unfold in front of her. Waving axes and swords was a small army of dwarves. Aral took advantage of the distraction and whipped out her sword. Ragrack looked up at her. She swung her sword quickly. Ragrack's head rolled away, an expression of utter shock was still on his face.

"Leave it to a bunch of silly elves to get themselves captured," A gruff voice muttered. A squat dwarf was standing there with a dark black hair and a shorter beard than most. The dwarven leader, apparently.

"A dwarf?!" Rumil cried in disbelief, "What on earth are dwarves doing in Mirkwood?!"

The dwarf eyed the Lothlorien elf suspiciously, "We come to aid the elven king in his fight against the darkness. What are two elves doing out here all alone?"

"Nothing of importance," Aral said quickly before Rumil could respond, "We thank you very much for your assistance. We would have been killed if it weren't for you." The dwarf nodded. "We're very grateful," Aral said, "Aren't we?" She elbowed Rumil. Rumil winced gripping his wounded arm.

"Yes," he said, "Thank you, mighty dwarf lord."

"Lord?" the dwarf cried.

"I assume that you're royalty," Rumil shrugged.

"Well, I am, but..." the dwarf sputtered indignantly.

"Rumil!" Aral cried. She turned and snapped at Rumil in elvish, "Rumil! You dimwit! She's a woman!"

"Oh!" Rumil cried, "Oh!"

The dwarf stomped off in a huff. Rumil was still stammering apologies. Aral rolled her eyes at him. "You know," she said curtly, "Diplomacy really isn't your strong suit!"

-888-

"So what you mean to tell me," Thranduil said slowly, "Is that an entire army of dwarves are heading towards Mirkwood. Unannounced?"

"Consider this your announcement, your majesty," Gloin said, "They're strong fighters all of them. And furthermore your son has no objections." Thranduil looked over at Legolas who stared back at his father defiantly.

"Nor do I," Thranduil said quietly, "We'll welcome any help we can acquire at this point in time." Legolas looked mildly surprised at his father's reaction. He had been expecting more of a fight out of Thranduil.

"Good," Gloin said, "They're heading this way even as we speak. They're under the command of one of finest generals."

"Ole Lorna," Gimli said with a chuckle, "Now there's a fearsome dwarf to behold!"

"Now then," Gloin said getting up out of his chair, "If you have no further concerns, your majesty, I think I'll have a look at your defenses."

"Be my guest," Thranduil said.

Gloin ambled out of the room and closed the door behind him. Thranduil turned his attention to Legolas. Legolas was standing there speechless. "You're surprised."

"A year ago you would have thrown him off balcony without a second thought!" Legolas cried, "Now you welcome him with open arms?"

"Are you disappointed?" Thranduil asked mildly, "I thought you wanted him to be here."

"I do," Legolas said hastily, "I'm not disappointed. I'm just a little... amazed."

"That makes two of us," Gimli said.

"Your friendship has taught me something," Thranduil said, "The old world is gone. And if Mirkwood and its people are to survive in this new world, then we will have to be a little more accomodating to those who are... different from ourselves." He nodded at Gimli, "Master Dwarf. Gimli. You have been given a rather cold reception when you first arrived. I am more or less responsible for that. With all this darkness in the world, I should not be making more enemies." He offered Gimli his hand, "Perhaps... we can be allies."

Gimli looked a little bit stunned, but he smiled cheekily and clasped Thranduil's hand, "Aye. Perhaps we could. We'll probably have to... for the laddie's sake of course."

"Of course," Thranduil smiled. Gimli caught a glimpse of Legolas out of the corner of his eye. Legolas was smiling. His small, mildly amused, smile, but Legolas's eyes were dancing. He looked like a prisoner who is finally given freedom. A huge weight had been thrown off his shoulders. "Now," Thranduil said cutting short the sentimental moment, "If we have the dwarves on our side, and the men of Gondor and possibly Rohan, I believe we have a force that could rival anything Sarmeth could throw at us."

"Frodo brought up a good point," Legolas said, "Sarmeth hasn't attacked us since we escaped. We have the entire Fellowship right here and yet he hasn't done anything."

"That is curious," Gimli admitted, "He's preparing to launch a major attack?"

"That's the theory at this point," Legolas said.

"We must beat him to it," Thranduil said.

"What are you saying?" Legolas asked.

"We have the manpower. We should launch an attack before he can launch his," Thranduil said, "Catch him off guard. A grand attack on Mordor."

Legolas and Gimli looked at each other, "That's almost foolhardy enough to work!" Gimli declared.

"I'll discus the matter with Gloin," Thranduil said, "He'd never forgive me if I didn't consult him on this matter." Thranduil was about to leave, but he froze in the doorway. "Legolas."

"Yes."

He turned around slowly, "If we go through with this plan... The wedding. I think you should have it immediately. In case..." Thranduil's voice broke with emotion. He couldn't finish the sentence.

"In case the battle goes ill," Legolas said quietly, "And I don't return from Mordor."

"You may not get another chance," Thranduil said. Gimli was surprised at the king's sudden show of emotion. Perhaps he truly does love his son.

"It shall be done," Legolas said solemnly. The light that had been dancing in his eyes earlier fled.

"Gimli," Thranduil said, "Please find your father and tell him I will join him presently." Gimli nodded and slowly left the king alone with his son. "Legolas," Thranduil said, "Is this truly what you want?"

"Of course, father," Legolas said, "Why do you ask?"

"I almost lost you once in Mordor," Thranduil said, "I don't want to risk losing you again."

"Losing me?" Legolas asked.

"By forcing you to do this," Thranduil said, "I don't want to risk losing your love again. Now. Look me in the eyes and tell me this is what you want."

Legolas met his father's gaze squarely, "This is what I want." He said slowly and calmly.

Thranduil let out a sigh and nodded. You want it because you think it is your duty. Not because you are in love.