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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 1
Gimli shook his head, leaning on his walking axe and fighting the grin that threatened to cross his bearded face. Trust the elf to use the fact that it was snowing as an excuse to cavort in the woods! Legolas was spinning slowly, arms outstretched and face to the sky. Large snowflakes drifted lazily down, landing in the elf's hair, on his face, and on his upturned palms. In truth, though, he rejoiced inwardly to see it. Legolas had been melancholy of late. In part, that had been his reasoning behind suggesting spending Yule at the Lonely Mountain. Legolas relished few things as much as he did new experiences. Gimli hoped that he would throw himself headlong into the merriment of a dwarven Yuletide celebration and forget at least for awhile the sea longing that plagued him and the lingering effects of the injuries he had sustained during the War that had been prolonged by the sea longing's interference with his body and soul.
"One would think you'd never seen snow, elf!" Legolas turned to him, grinning, eyes twinkling with mischief and humor.
"Oh, many, many times, friend Gimli, but it is never the same twice!" He gestured to the trees around them. "Can you honestly say that you do not appreciate the beauty of the trees' winter cloak?"
"I do appreciate the sight, Legolas. What I do not appreciate is frozen toes and fingers. While you aren't bothered by the chill, I will be once night falls." His expression softened at the look of chagrin on his companion's face. "None of that, now, you daft creature! We'll get to my home a couple of hours after nightfall if we leave now. No harm's been done." Legolas crossed the distance between them to the horse that Gimli stood beside. "Nay, let the poor beast have a respite. Our feet will serve for now. We can ride later, if we have need to. We'll be coming up on the river soon, anyway, and we'd need to dismount to cross it."
"Trust a dwarf to make up excuses to walk in the snow," Legolas retorted, grinning, his guilt assuaged. Gimli merely snorted.
"Looks solid," Gimli said, thumping the ice with the butt of his axe.
"Looks can be deceiving," Legolas said, his eyes scanning the frozen river in the dimming light. "We should cross over here," he pointed to their left. "The water is shallower at that point, if my memory is correct, no deeper than my knees. If the ice should break, we would have an easier time getting out."
"Well, standing here isn't getting us across," Gimli grumbled. He was beginning to feel the cold more acutely, not that he would consider admitting that to the elf, and he was longing for his parents' hearth and a mug of hot buttered rum, as well as a hearty, and hot, meal. He started across the ice, Legolas following and leading the horse several paces behind and further to his left.
The ice under the horse's hooves cracked, but the animal retained his footing and plodded on. Legolas, however, ended up wet to the waist as his foot slipped on a rock and Gimli chuckled at the variety of colorful phrases that passed his friend's lips. He'd been pleasantly surprised at how creatively the elven prince could swear when frustrated. The lad was almost as creative as a dwarf in that respect. Evidently, elves did feel the cold when doused in icy water because Legolas hurried the horse to the far bank and turned to face Gimli, an impatient expression on his face. The dwarf chuckled again.
"I'm hurrying, lad, I'm hurrying! No need to glare a hole through me. Get your clothes changed while you're waiting." He grinned at the speed with which Legolas turned, removing his cloak and weapons and rummaging in his pack for a change of clothing.
Suddenly, Gimli heard a loud noise and the surface dropped out from under his feet, plunging him into darkness, the bitter cold stealing the breath from his lungs. It took him a moment to realize that he was immersed completely in the icy water, the weight of his maille dragging him down to the bottom of a deep hole. He flailed, trying to reach the surface but not knowing for certain which way was up, his lungs burning.
Then, he felt something clasp him hard around the middle and just as he felt his consciousness fleeing, his head broke the surface of the water and he drew in a spluttering breath. As his ears cleared, he heard Legolas shouting in elvish and felt himself being dragged out of the icy water into the even icier air. He was dragged, half submerged, through cracking ice, to the far bank and hauled up onto dry land and onto his feet. He stood, shivering violently, disoriented. Legolas appeared before him, soaked to the skin also, kneeling down and tugging on the clasps of Gimli's clothing.
"We have to get you into dry clothing, elvellon, and quickly," Legolas said, stripping him down to his smallclothes before bundling him into dry socks, breeches, and a shirt and wrapping him in his blanket. "Lean against my horse while I change my shirt, Gimli. He will keep you warmer."
"Y..y...y...y..your b..b..b..breeches..."
"Both pairs are wet, I fear. I had already changed them when you fell," Legolas replied grimly. "Fear not for me, my friend. I will be fine. You, however, we must get to your kin and soonest." He donned a dry shirt, gifted him by Eomer during the war and too large for his lean frame, before bundling their wet clothing into an empty pack and wrapping Gimli's maille swiftly but carefully, stowing it in yet a third pack. "Up you go, elvellon. We have need of speed from here on!" He lifted Gimli up onto the horse's back and vaulted up behind him, wrapping his blanket around Gimli before urging the horse onto the path to the Lonely Mountain as the wind began to pick up and the snow began to fall more thickly.
Fror the dwarf shifted, trying to get comfortable. His fellow door guard, Niri, frowned at him but made no comment. They were sheltered from the bitter wind of the winter storm, but it was still far colder than either would have liked and both were looking forward to the arrival of their replacements. They had been there since sundown, some two hours past, and it had been an uneventful watch. Soon, they would be off duty and could join in the Yule preparations inside the Mountain. And, what a Yule it would be! The Dark Lord had been vanquished and Niri's cousin, Gimli, who had taken part in the battles to defeat the evil one in Mordor itself, was finally on his way home to a hero's welcome. Fror could hardly wait!
Suddenly, the sound of a horse's hoofbeats reached their ears and both dwarves looked at each other in alarm. No dwarf rode a horse. Ponies, yes, but this was larger than any pony by the sound. Fror gripped his axe tightly as the animal rounded the bend in the path up the Mountain. He squinted, unable to make out more than a shapeless lump atop the horse through the swirling snow. It did not look particularly threatening, especially to a seasoned dwarf-warrior, but one did not survive long enough to be seasoned without being wary so he kept his grip on his axe as it approached. As the figure drew near, it raised its head. Fror nearly dropped his axe.
The rider was an elf, of which Fror had seen no few living where he lived, but never had he seen one looking as this one did. The creature's face was ashen, lips blue with cold, and ice coated its hair. It did not look alive, apart from the fact that it was moving. Abruptly, Fror realized that the elf was speaking.
"..fell... ice." The Elf blinked and shook his head. "Help Gimli." The elf drew back the layers of cloth wrapping the large bundle before him to reveal an all too familiar face.
"Gimli!" Niri shouted, dropping his axe and rushing forward as Fror sounded the alarm. The elf half lifted half slid Gimli off the horse and into Niri's arms.
"Fell through the ice," the elf said, dismounting clumsily. Niri looked up at the elf.
"From the look of it, you went in after him," he said warily.
"Did," the elf replied, swaying on his feet and holding onto the horse for support.
There was no further time for questions as dwarves started pouring out of the doorway. In short order Gloin and Gimli's mother, Naris, had been notified and Gimli was carried off to their chambers in the company of a healer. The horse was led away to the stables that the dwarves kept for their ponies and the elf was half carried to an antechamber until it was decided what to do with him.
"That's enough, he's warmed now. Dry him off and bundle him into bed." The healer turned his attention to the dwarf-woman who was stirring a pot at the hearth. "Naris, is the brew ready?"
"Yes. How is he?"
"Far better than I'd have expected," Borli, the healer, replied. "Why he's not got frostbite, I've no idea but thank Mahal he doesn't. Your boy's very lucky."
"Thank Mahal," the dwarf-woman breathed. "Gloin," she called to her husband, "Is he settled?"
"Aye, he is and beginning to wake, I think," he replied, relief patent in his voice.
Naris rose, a cup of the brew in her hands, and crossed the room to the bed that Gimli had been tucked into by his father. As Gloin supported Gimli's head and shoulders, Naris patiently spooned the brew into his mouth, coaxing him to swallow. About halfway through the process, Gimli's eyelids fluttered open and he blinked, looking dazedly around the room.
"Mam?" he whispered.
"Aye, love, and your Da's here, too." Naris reassured him, lifting another spoonful of the hot liquid to his lips. He swallowed it and the two that followed obediently. Then his eyes, which had been half-closed, popped open wide.
"Legolas! Where's Legolas?" He struggled to get up only to have his father firmly hold him down.
"You're in no shape to go tearing through the mountain, son. Let your Mam and me handle things. We'll see to your companion." Gloin did not release his grip until Gimli relaxed under his hands.
"He was shivering, Da. Legolas doesn't get cold. Something was wrong."
"I'll see to him, love. You rest and drink the broth your Da gives you." Naris laid her hand briefly on her son's forehead before leaving the room.
Naris hurried down the corridor to the antechamber nearest the entry to the Mountain her niece, Narin, following closely behind her. The guards who had carried Gimli to his parents' chambers had told her that the elf who had accompanied her son had been taken into the first antechamber. She only hoped that the dwarves guarding him had had the sense to ensure that he was cared for.
That hope was shattered as she passed through the doorway into the antechamber. The room was cold, in spite of the fire that crackled in the fireplace. The elf was sitting on the hearth, as close to the fire as he could get without risking immolation. He was curled up, arms wrapped about his waist and knees up, his head resting on his knees and his dripping hair hanging down over his legs and hiding his face from view. She threw the guards, who were leaning against the wall at the far side of the room, a murderous glare and hurried to the elf's side. Reaching out, she gently gripped his shoulders.
"Lord Legolas?" She gave him a little shake to rouse him. "Lord Legolas, wake now." As her fingers tightened on his shoulders, he gave a little gasp and tried to pull away.
"Aunt, his left shoulder doesn't look right," Narin said, moving to that side and pulling the too-large shirt he wore down to expose the shoulder. "Dislocated," she commented succinctly, probing it gently and drawing another gasp from the elf. "His skin is so cold I can't tell if there's damage to the hand. Hold him, Aunt, and I'll push it back into the socket." Naris shifted over to give her niece room and wrapped both arms around the elf's torso. He turned his face into her shoulder as Narin gripped his arm and pulled, guiding the joint back into place. His body shuddered, but he made no sound. Narin and Naris traded a look. "Tougher than he looks," Narin commented.
"Aye," Naris agreed. She loosened her grip on the elf and he drew a deep breath, but made no move to sit up. His hair obscured his face, and after a moment's consideration, she stroked it back. His gray eyes were glazed as he tried to focus on her.
"Where?"
"You're inside the Mountain, Lord Legolas," she replied, shifting her arm lower on his back to take more of his weight. She was surprised at how little he seemed to weigh. "Don't you remember how you got here?"
"Cold."
"I know you are, we're going to take care of that. Can you walk a little bit?"
"Hmm?"
She and Narin guided him to his feet, which Naris only then noticed were bare, and steadied him between them, assisting him out the door and down the corridors to Naris and Gloin's chambers. It was a slow process, for although his weight was indeed slight, he was quite a bit taller than both the dwarf women and very unsteady on his feet. Halfway there, his knees buckled and he crumpled, his caretakers only just preventing his head from striking the stone floor.
"That's it, he can't make it further on his own power. We're going to need help," Naris said, sitting down on the floor and easing his head onto her shoulder. She cradled as much of his torso as she could off the floor, wrapping her arms around him to warm him. She felt him tense and try to sit up, but he had no more strength than a newborn and he soon subsided. "Easy, now. You'll be all right," she said, trying to speak in soothing tones.
"I'll get help," Narin said, disappearing in a swirl of skirts.
Chapter 2
"There's too much of him by half," Torli grumbled as he shifted his grip under the elf's knees.
"Naw, he doesn't weigh more than a feather, but he's all bloody legs," Arli commented from his place at the other end of their burden.
"The both of you best mind your manners and your tongues," Narin said tartly. "He's a guest and he saved our cousin's neck for him."
"Aw, cousin, you know we don't mean any harm! Besides, he's out cold."
"But I am not," Naris remarked from the doorway, causing her nephews to wince. "And I'm ashamed of you both, speaking of a guest in that manner! Especially an injured guest." She glared at both of them as they carried the elf past her. "Lay him down over there," she instructed, pointing toward a place close to the hearth where several towels had been laid down. "Out with you now." She moved quickly to the elf's side, picking up a towel from a stack on a chair. The healer bustled into the room, summoned by Narin who followed on his heels.
"We need to get him out of those wet things and get him warmed, now," Borli said, suiting words to action by stripping the damp shirt from the elf. Naris dropped the towel and quickly grabbed a blanket that had been thrown over the fire screen to warm as the healer proceeded to remove the feebly protesting elf's breeches. Together, Naris and Borli swaddled the elf in the blanket, adding a second blanket on top of the first. Naris eased the elf's head into her lap and quickly removed the tiny clasps that held the ends of his braids. Once his hair was freed from its bonds, she used the towel to dry his hair. As soon as he was covered, the elf calmed again, allowing the dwarves to do as they wished.
"Should we try some of my brew on him, do you think, Borli?" Naris asked. Borli frowned, chewing his lip thoughtfully.
"I doubt it'd harm him any," he replied. "Wish I knew more about healing elves. Wish I'd talked with that elven healer, Lormir, after the Battle of Five Armies more, too." He glanced up at her. "He was a decent enough fellow. Mahal, his hands are like ice! I swear, he's colder than Gimli was and elves aren't supposed to be affected by cold."
"Here, Aunt." Narin handed Naris a steaming cup of the herbal brew she had given Gimli earlier. Naris held it to the elf's lips and trickled a small amount into his mouth. He swallowed it, but grimaced and murmured something in his own tongue. Borli snorted in amusement.
"Evidently, he doesn't care for the taste," the healer said, grinning slightly.
"What did he say?" Narin asked.
"If I remember correctly, something along the lines of 'horse piss'." The healer returned his attention to his examination of the elf. "I could be wrong, it's been awhile since I last heard their language and Mirkwood elves have an odd accent, anyway." A moment later he sighed. "Well, he's not frostbitten so there's a mercy, but he's thinner than he ought to be and that doesn't help matters any."
"His left shoulder was dislocated when we found him, Borli. Narin and I set it to rights before we tried to move him."
"Ah, thanks for telling me, I'd best have a look at it and the rest of the arm." He probed the shoulder, drawing a groan of protest from his patient before running practiced fingers down the elf's arm and turning his hand over in his palm. "The arm looks all right, and he's definitely got feeling in his fingers. I think we don't need to worry there. No, it's mostly the cold, and the fact that he's pushed himself beyond his endurance. If he were a Man or a dwarf, I'd say we needed to watch for lung fever, but elves aren't prone to it, according to what Lormir told me. Let's warm him up, both inside and out, and keep him quiet for a couple of days. He should be right as rain after that, unless there's more here than what we've seen so far." He tucked the blankets back around the elf's shoulders and looked back up at Naris. "Gimli'll be fine so long as he didn't breathe in too much water. I'll stay with the elf until we know for sure how he's responding, but come get me if Gimli's breathing changes or if he starts coughing."
"I'll stay and help Borli, Aunt."
"Thank you, love. I'll come get you if we need you, Borli."
"Easy now, that's it. Drink it all, Master Elf." A chuckle, "Yes, I know it doesn't taste very nice but it'll help you get back on your feet."
Legolas obediently swallowed the strong-tasting liquid with a grimace. The hands that had lifted him eased him back down onto the pillow and tucked the blankets he was swaddled in back around his shoulders. His awareness drifted away for a moment until a blast of cooler air hit the skin of his hips. He tried to squirm, feeling his hips being lifted and soft cloth tucked around his hips and over his groin. He wanted to protest that he was no infant in need of a nappie but could not make himself form the words. He drifted again, his annoyance dissapating as the voices in the room with him faded into the distance.
"I doubt he'll appreciate being swaddled like a babe, but you're right, Narin. He's out of it enough not to wake if the urge hits him and getting damp again wouldn't do him a bit of good." The healer laid a hand along the side of the elf's face. "He's finally warming up."
"Good. That was starting to worry me. Should we try to feed him some broth, do you think?" Narin asked, fussing with the edges of the blanket .
"In a bit. Let the brew settle and him rest for a little while first." Borli sighed heavily. "I really wish I'd talked with that elven healer more. Even as different as elves are, I'd think he should be doing better than he is. I can't shake the feeling that there's something else going on with him." The elf shifted restlessly, crying out softly in his own language before stilling again when Narin patted his uninjured shoulder, murmuring soothingly to him.
"I wish I understood what he's saying," Narin commented, sitting back.
"Once upon a time, I spoke their language fairly well," Borli commented. "Enough to communicate with their healers after the Battle, anyway, so long as they spoke slow enough for me to catch what they were saying. Like I said, Mirkwood elves have an odd accent. I have an easier time with understanding Master Elrond and his folk." He sighed again and stretched. "I think he said something about water. He's probably reliving having to go into that freezing river." Narin grunted sympathetically, patting the elf's shoulder again.
Gloin peered around the door, reluctant to disturb any of the occupants of the room but anxious to see how his son's friend was doing. The healer sat dozing with his back against the wall of the chamber, one hand on his charge's chest. Gloin had no doubt that he would wake at the slightest twitch the elf made. His niece was curled up on a couple of pillows in the corner opposite the healer. The elf lay on his back, his face turned away from Gloin. His chest rose and fell steadily, reassuring the older dwarf somewhat. Gloin stepped closer, trying to see the elf's face. Borli's eyes snapped open and focused immediately on Gloin, who raised a hand in greeting.
"How is Gimli?"
"Awake and fretting over his friend," Gloin replied, pitching his voice so as not to wake Narin. "And not a sign of lung fever so far, thank Mahal. How fares our guest?"
"Better, but not as well as he should be. There's something else going on with him besides cold and exhaustion. I need to talk to Gimli."
"Well, he's alert and in none too good a mood. I'll stay here until you get back."
"Good. Narin has been invaluable, but if the elf acts up, she'll need help with him. They're far stronger than they look." Borli stood up and stretched before heading toward the door.
Gloin took a step closer to the elf as the door closed behind the healer. He had seen the son of the Elvenking on several occasions, the most recent being at the Council of Elrond, but had not ever taken the time to really look at him. The elf bore the look of his sire, none who had seen them both would ever mistake them for anything but father and son, but where the Elvenking was unapproachable, his son was compelling. Perhaps the unusual friendship that had grown between his son and this elf was not so incomprehensible after all. Gloin trusted his son's judgment implicitly; Gimli had never been one to trust lightly or prematurely and his ability to judge character was especially keen. If he trusted this elf and named him brother in all but blood, that was good enough for his father.
Gloin sat down in the space that Borli had just vacated. "Well, my lord prince, it seems I'll be looking after you awhile," he said softly. The elf twitched slightly but made no other move.
Borli raised his hand and rapped twice on the door to Gimli's bedchamber. Naris' voice bade him enter and he opened the door, passing through it and shutting it quietly behind him. Gimli sat propped up in the bed, a fierce scowl marring his handsome features. Borli snorted, amused once more.
"Spare me your dissatisfaction, cousin. I don't have time for it. I need to know what's going on with your elven friend," Borli stated, as bluntly as any of his folk were rumored to be.
"I don't know what's going on with Legolas, that's the problem," Gimli retorted, his scowl deepening.
"Well, then, let me enlighten you: he damned near froze to death bringing you here, even though elves aren't supposed to be affected by the cold, he's exhausted past all endurance, even though elves are supposed to be the hardiest of all folk, his shoulder was dislocated somehow in all of this, and he isn't bouncing back as he should, given what little I know of elves. In short, you're in far better shape than you should be, he's in far worse shape than he should be, and he's not getting much better. Now, what's going on with him?" Gimli's scowl turned from disgruntled to thoughtful, and not a little worried.
"I don't know exactly on most of it; I'm only guessing until I have a chance to pry the truth out of him, but I think he was using some kind of healer's trick on me. Da always said the time that Master Elrond worked on that leg wound of his that it felt a bit like when your arm or leg tingles when you move it after you've been still a long while, but not painful. That's what it felt like pretty much the whole way here, at least when I was awake. I didn't feel cold at all once we got on the horse." Gimli's frown deepened even more. "I didn't even know he could do that. He and I are going to have to have a talk." Gimli shook himself and sighed. "The bit of it that I do know for sure is that he's got what his folk call the 'Sea Longing' and it plays havoc with his ability to heal himself. That's why he's still having problems with that shoulder of his. By rights, it shouldn't have been an issue for him beyond a couple of weeks after the first time it went out on him, but here we are now months later and it's still not healed." He glanced back at Borli. "Is he sleeping with his eyes closed or open?"
"Closed, and he's out like a candle. Hasn't even so much as twitched in a couple of hours. That's one of the things that's got me nervy about him. I know that's not normal for an elf. Have you ever seen him do that?"
"Once, after the battle at the Black Gate. He fought, scoured the battlefield for wounded, and stood guard duty without rest for over a week, until Aragorn got wind of what he was up to and set Master Elrond's sons on him. He slept for over a day with his eyes closed. Scared the liver out of all of us." Gimli's expression firmed into yet another frown. "I need to see him. I'm the only one here who knows him well enough to tell how badly off he is." Borli snorted.
"Nice try, cousin, but there's no chance that I'm going to let you out of this bed until I'm sure that you aren't going to come down with lung fever."
"I won't," Gimli stated firmly. "I can't explain to you how I know, but I know that Legolas saw to it that I won't sicken." Borli sighed.
"Don't make me regret this, cousin, or once I get you healed, I'm going to pound you."
Gloin looked up as Gimli entered the room followed by Borli. He arched a heavy brow at his son but made no comment as Gimli knelt down next to the elf's pallet. The younger dwarf looked over his elven friend minutely, laying a hand on the elf's uninjured shoulder and turning his face gently with his other hand so that he could see it clearly.
"He looks worse than he did after the Black Gate," Gimli stated softly, his brow furrowed with worry. "Lad, what did you do to yourself?" The elf's eyes fluttered open at the sound of the dwarf's voice but drifted shut again almost immediately.
"I'm out of my depth here, I don't mind saying," Borli said with a grimace. "I think we ought to send a messenger off to Mirkwood for a healer."
"He'd never get through the storm," Gloin replied, a matching grimace on his face. "Like it or not, we're going to have to wait out the storm and do our best for him in the meantime."
"Even an elf wouldn't last long in a storm as bad as this one is. Da's right, we're on our own here," Gimli stated flatly. He looked up again, meeting Borli's eyes squarely. "I'm not leaving this room, cousin, until the lad's awake and his usual addle-pated self. Drag another pallet in here if you must, but I'm not leaving."
Chapter 3
Gimli raised himself up on his elbow to peer over at the elf, checking on Legolas yet again. He occupied a pallet that had been laid out next to the elf's, his cousin's stipulation in exchange for the concession of allowing him to stay with Legolas. The archer was still in what Gimli assumed to be a healing sleep, and in fact had not moved a muscle so far as he could tell since Gimli had arrived some four or five hours before. It was now in the early morning before dawn.
Gimli lay back down quickly before Borli could notice that he was awake. His cousin had extracted a promise of him to rest while he waited for Legolas to wake. Had it been any other among his cousins, Gimli would have argued, but Borli was the healer and arguing with the healer was never a wise idea. He had far too much sense to push his luck. 'And Legolas wonders why Aragorn never puts honey in his healing potions,' he thought. 'If I'd given Mam or Borli a tenth the amount of headaches and backchat that Legolas regularly gives the healer unfortunate enough to be stuck caring for him, I'd have been dosed into a stupor with the foulest tasting tea imaginable! I just hope that the fact that he's in my home keeps him from acting up as he usually does.'
Legolas shifted, muttering in elvish and both Gimli and Borli were at his side in an instant.
"You're supposed to be sleeping, cousin," Borli growled, not sparing Gimli as glance as he laid his hand on Legolas' brow.
"I was. I'm used to waking about this time, and I've had more rest than I normally do already. Besides, if he's out of it you're going to need my help. He may listen to me where he wouldn't to you or Narin," Gimli replied matter-of-factly. "He's far stronger than he looks."
"I'm well aware of that." Borli turned Legolas' face toward the fire, pulling his hand back when the elf flinched. "Easy now, I'm only trying to help," he said, his voice taking on a soothing cadence.
"Is he waking?" Narin unrolled herself from her blanket in the corner and moved to the end of Legolas' pallet.
"I think so," Borli replied. "He's not really aware of what's around him right now. Be careful." Legolas tried to roll onto his left side, gasping when he put too much weight onto his injured shoulder. A flurry of elvish passed his lips and he rolled onto his right side, curling into a fetal position.
"Here now, lad. Take it easy, you put your shoulder out again," Gimli said, bracing one hand on the middle of the elf's back and the other on his hip. "Just breathe, there you go. Stay on your right side for now." The elf's chest heaved. "Easy now, that's it, just breathe."
"Gimli?"
"Aye, lad, I'm here and I'm fine," Gimli reassured him, never loosing his grip on his friend.
"Here, I don't want to give him anything for the pain right now but this should make it feel a bit better." Borli laid a hot cloth on Legolas' sore shoulder and the elf sighed, relaxing a bit.
"That's a bit better, isn't it lad?"
"Aye," the elf replied, turning his head to look at Gimli. "You are angry with me, Elvellon."
"Some, but don't worry about it right now. We'll talk about that when you're feeling better." Gimli helped him roll back onto his back.
"I do not regret keeping you from harm. I would do it again without hesitation, gwador-nin," Legolas said as Gimli re-adjusted to cloth on his shoulder.
"Aye, I know that, you daft creature. Not an ounce of sense or self-preservation in you at all. You're lucky that you're such a nuisance that Mandos won't have you in his halls." Legolas laughed quietly, wincing as his shoulder was jostled again.
"Do not make me laugh, Gimli. It hurts."
"I ought to take the flat of my axe to that narrow arse of yours for being idiot enough to deplete your strength to the point that the cold affected you in the first place," Gimli said. "And we're still going to talk about that later. For now, you're going to drink some broth and go back to sleep for awhile."
"Yes, Naneth," the elf replied, but half-heartedly at best.
"And if you're not putting up more of a fight than that you really are in sad shape, elf." He didn't react to the face that Legolas pulled at him, knowing that had Borli and Narin not been present it might have been accompanied by a rude gesture or comment. "Now, since I know you were out of it earlier and probably don't remember, these are my cousins: Borli, our healer, and Narin. Cousins, this is my friend, Legolas."
"At your service, and that of your family," Legolas said, nodding to both of them. "Or, I will be as soon as I am able."
"There's no need to be formal now, Lord Legolas," Narin said. "No one would expect it as you're hardly at your best." She slipped an arm under his shoulders, careful not to jar the injured one, and lifted him to rest against her shoulder. "Here's some broth for you." He drank obediently when she held the mug to his lips.
"Thank you, it is very good." He glanced up at her. "Gimli's family has no need to call me 'lord', my lady."
"The one who pulled my cousin from a river and kept him alive through a blizzard has no need to call me 'my lady'," she countered, holding the mug to his lips again. "My name is Narin. You may use it as my cousins and brothers do."
"I am honored to do so, thank you." He sighed. "The broth is good, Narin, but I have had enough for now. I would rest some more, please."
"Rest well, and I'll see if I can tempt your appetite with something other than broth when you wake again. You're too thin." Legolas chuckled.
"So says every other lady of my acquaintance. I bow to the wisdom of all of you and will eat when I wake." He winced as she helped him lay back down. He sighed deeply and his eyes lost focus as he drifted into reverie.
"He's out of immediate danger, and Gimli's fine so far as I can tell," Borli said, leaning against the frame of the door to the guest room Legolas was occupying. "I'll come back this afternoon to check on both of them but in the meantime just make sure they take it easy. And if you can, get the elf to eat as often as you're able. He really does need to put on some weight. No restrictions on what, just feed him whatever he'll eat."
"We will, and thank you, Borli," Naris said. "Here's a loaf of my bread for your breakfast."
"You know I'd never turn down a loaf of your bread, Naris. Thank you." He nodded to both Gloin and Naris. "I'll see you later, then." Gloin turned to his wife.
"I'd best go see the king. He wants to be kept abreast of things, of course."
"I'll send a loaf of bread with you for him. He loves it as much as you and Gimli do." Naris headed into the kitchen area of their dwelling, returning with a loaf of bread wrapped in cloth. "It's still warm, he'll like that."
"Aye, he will. Everyone loves your festival bread, my gem." He took the loaf from her. "You did keep enough for us, I hope?" She snorted.
"Of course I did! How do you think I plan to get our guest to eat later? Besides, you and Gimli can eat a loaf apiece at one sitting. I made a triple batch this time." She grinned at her husband. "I'll have a plate full waiting for you when you return."
"I won't be long. Don't let Gimli eat all of it while I'm gone."
Naris opened the guest room door quietly, peering around it. Gimli sat beside the elf's pallet, keeping his hands busy by carving what looked to be a piece of white wood or bone. He looked up and smiled at her as she entered the room.
"I thought you might like some bread to break your fast," she said softly.
"I'd love it, Mam, thank you." He glanced down at Legolas grinning when he saw the elf's nose twitch. Legolas blinked and looked from Gimli to Naris.
"That smells wonderful, whatever it is, my lady." Naris laughed.
"I'll have to tell Gloin that my bread also brings injured elves out of healing sleep. There should be enough for both of you here. Gimli, mind you let him have his fair share of it. There's plenty more in the kitchen."
"Not to worry, Mam, he can have as much as he'll eat." Gimli grinned at Legolas. "This once, anyway. Next time he might have to fight me for it. This is the bread I was telling all of you about that night in Hollin." He took the plate from his mother and handed a piece of the bread to the elf. Legolas took a bite and Gimli grinned again to see his eyes roll back in his head with pleasure.
"It tastes even better than it smells," he said, finishing the piece he had been given and reaching for another, which Gimli promptly handed to him. The dwarf grinned up at his mother.
"We might need some more." Naris chuckled.
"There's plenty. What are you working on, love?"
"A chess set. This is a piece of one of the tusks of the Mumak that Legolas brought down on the Pellenor in Gondor. I'm doing the black pieces out of obsidian from the ground around the Black Gate." He grinned at Legolas again. "I wanted a good set to use when I trounce Legolas at the game."
"I told you: if you want a challenge, play against Ada. He regularly hands me my head when we play." Legolas said, swallowing the last of his second piece of bread. He looked hopefully at the plate, grinning when Gimli handed him another piece. "It really is wonderful, my lady."
"I'm glad you like it, and gladder still to see you eating," Naris said. "We weren't properly introduced earlier: I am Naris, daughter of Nanri. This unmannered lout you call friend is my son."
"Sorry, Mam," Gimli said, ducking his head and glaring at Legolas, daring him to say something. To his surprise, the elf looked a bit wistful.
"I am honored, my lady. Legolas, son of Thranduil at your service and that of your family." He inclined his head. "Forgive me for not rising and greeting you properly, but at the moment it would be unwise for me to do so."
"Don't fret about it, Lord Legolas. Your clothing was cleaned while you slept and it should be dry by now. I'll bring it to you in a moment. You eat as much of the bread as you'd like, and I also have porridge, bacon, and fruit if you'd like some."
"All of it sounds good to me right now. I am very hungry. And, please, as I told Narin: Gimli's family has no need to call me 'lord'. I am only 'Legolas' to you all."
"Then I am only 'Naris' to you. I will be back in a moment with your clothing." She favored him with a smile, leaned down to pat Gimli's shoulder affectionately, and left, closing the door behind her.
"Your mother is lovely, Elvellon," Legolas commented, rolling onto his right side and levering himself up to sit. He turned carefully to face the dwarf, arranging the blankets to cover himself modestly before snatching another piece of bread from the plate by Gimli's knee.
"Aye, she is. I've missed her this past year," Gimli moved the plate nearer his friend. "Eat all you want, Legolas. Mam said there was plenty."
"Your cousins did not stay all night just on my behalf, did they?"
"Almost. Narin left shortly after you went back to sleep. She's got little ones to see to, including one that was born after I left that I'm looking forward to meeting. Borli left just after dawn to go get a couple hours rest." He eyed Legolas sharply. "Don't be getting your breeches in a twist, lad. You needed help and they were glad to give it. As you've been remarkably well behaved to them both, unlike you usually are when you're injured, I have no complaints to make. See that you continue, and I may not even pin those pointed ears of yours back for not telling me you had the ability to heal others."
"I did not tell you because it is not something that is reliable. My Daernaneth, my Naneth's Naneth, is a healer. Naneth's talents lay in working with plants, Ada tells me, as do mine for the most part. What healing ability I have comes not often, usually only when it is most needed." He looked sheepishly at Gimli. "Truly, I did not withhold vital information from you."
"Aragorn knew about it, yes?"
"Yes, he did. But, only because we discovered it initially while he was in need of it." He made as if to shrug, winced when his shoulder pained him and sighed instead. "Lord Elrond said that I might be able to strengthen it with intensive training, but since there were already more than enough healers in the realm, I chose to continue as a warrior. I could not have done both and I deemed my skill with a bow to be the more useful of the two at the time."
"Fair enough, lad. Look, don't overdo it today. You still look like orc dung."
"I have no intention of overdoing today." He rubbed his hand across his face. "To be truthful, I rather feel like orc dung warmed over and served on toast." Legolas gave Gimli a half-smile. "I know I need to eat and rest to rebuild the strength I expended in aiding you. I have every intention of doing exactly that."
"Very well, I'll not harangue you unless you do start doing too much."
"Very well, Naneth."
"You know, I can still take the flat of my axe to your arse."
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