Title: Snowfall
Author: sheraiah
Rating: PG for language
Warnings: A bit of swearing, that's all.
Summary: A Yule fic starring the elf and the dwarf.

                                                       ~

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.

“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.”

~

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.” .

                                                     ~

“Take it easy, there you go,” Gimli said as he settled Legolas' shirt across the elf's shoulders. “I don't think you should bother with your tunic today.”

“No, I agree. It is not worth the effort, especially since I intend to return here to rest after breaking our fast,” Legolas replied with a sigh. “I would not even bother braiding my hair were it not for the fact that I do not want it in my face as I eat.” He offered a wan smile to his dwarven friend. “Thank you for your help, Elvellon.”

“Bah, stop fussing! You'd do the same for me.” He picked up the elf's comb. “Here, sit in front of me and we'll get your hair out of your eyes.”

“You need not go to the trouble of braiding it as I normally do, Gimli. Just do a single braid as Elladan and Elrohir do when they are going into battle.”

“You just don't think I'm capable of doing it as you usually do,” Gimli retorted, humor evident in his tone.

“Nay, I know that you are. It is only that I do not wish to have you go to the trouble only to have to take them out again in an hour or so.” He smiled over his shoulder. “Besides, I am still very hungry.”

“Good. Mam sets as good a table as the hobbits do, and you still haven't gained back everything you lost on the Quest.” He ran the comb through the elf's hair, gently untangling it. “Although how you haven't, I can't figure out. You certainly eat enough, and you aren't fussy about what you eat.”

“Being assigned to patrol the Southern part of the realm is enough to cure anyone of fussiness over food. When you cannot have a fire to cook for weeks at a time and you must constantly keep moving to stay one step ahead of the orcs, you eat whatever is available. After that, you appreciate good food and the effort it takes to prepare it.” He sighed.

“So that's where you gained your skill in foraging?”

“Partly, aye. There was not so much in the way of roots, nuts, or berries in the south of the realm that would be wholesome to eat. I have, at times, lived on grubs and other such things. The worst bread in Arda is a feast by comparison, and such as your mother makes, a gift from the Valar themselves.”

“Well, that's got your hair taken care of.” Gimli dropped Legolas' comb back into the elf's pack. “Let's go eat.”

“You need not say that twice, my friend.” The elf rose, while not with his usual grace at least without using his arms, and grinned at Gimli who shook his head and grinned behind his beard.

“You're going to endear yourself to Mam for life. She loves nothing better than feeding folks who appreciate eating.”

                                                                      ~

“Ah, there they are!” Naris said, smiling at Legolas as he straightened after ducking through the doorway behind Gimli. “Gloin, the tea's on the hearth if you'd bring it to the table for me, please?”

“Of course, my gem.” He lifted the large teapot and placed it on the table before grinning at Legolas. “My wife tells me that you'd have us use no titles with you, so I'd have the same from you in return. You're looking a good sight better than you did when last I saw you, Legolas.”

“I rather think I am feeling better than I was then, however since I do not remember seeing you I could not say for certain,” the elf replied, a hint of mischief in his expression. “Since I do not remember: well met, Gloin.” He bowed with his hand over his heart. “I am very glad to see you well after the battles I was told took place here, however after having fought by your son's side, I am unsurprised to see you thus as he has said that you were his teacher.” Gloin laughed, clapping Legolas on his uninjured shoulder.

“Well said, very well said! Come now, let us break our fast and share tales of what's passed since we last met.” He gestured towards an upholstered stool that sat a bit lower than the other chairs at the table. “This is where Gandalf usually sits when he visits. We thought perhaps it might work as well for you as it does for him.” Legolas sat down, sliding his long legs under the table. The lower seat ensured that his knees did not hit the table and he smiled up at Gloin.

“I would say that it does, thank you.” He surveyed the laden table appreciatively. “Everything looks and smells wonderful, Naris,” he said turning to Gimli's mother. “I think I may have to have some of everything here. I could not choose.”

“Be sure to take some of the fried sausage and onions, lad,” Gimli said, seating himself in the chair next to Legolas. “Better than any we found in Minas Tirith, I can tell you now, although Sam made some that came close to being this good.”

                                                           ~

“I'll never again believe it when I'm told that elves eat like birds,” Naris said with a chuckle as she spooned a second helping of sausage and onions onto Legolas' plate.

“But we do,” he replied with a slight smile. “Birds eat quite a lot for their size.” He took a bite, a look of pleasure crossing his face.

“Well, there's plenty so eat as much as you wish.” She turned to her son. “Gimli, Niri and Tavri say that the south creek is full of mussels and crayfish so we should have plenty for the gather tonight.”

“Good, I'm looking forward to it,” Gimli replied. He turned to Legolas. “It's tradition for each family to hold their own gather a few days before Yule. We started having mussels and crayfish for our gather meal the first year we were back in the mountain since they were so plentiful in the creeks that run in the caverns at the mountain's base.” Legolas smiled.

“We eat them too. I am interested to see how they are prepared here.”

“What are your plans for today, my lad?” Gloin asked.

“Legolas intends to rest some more after we finish breakfast. I'll work some more on the chess set while he rests and then we may take a brief trip up to the stables if he feels up to it before the gather.”

“Nay, Gimli, there is no need for you to remain while I rest. If you have aught you wish to do, you should. I will be fine.” Legolas gave him a slight grin. “I believe I can be trusted to rest without a 'keeper'.” He held up his hands to ward off the scowl the dwarf aimed at him. “Truly, I will be fine. There is no need to restrict your actions on my account.”

“Gimli, why don't you go with your cousins to the south creek? I'll be here today, baking more bread and starting the broth for the mussels. I can keep an ear out for Legolas if he needs anything,” Naris favored the elf with a smile before turning her attention back to her son. “You'll be back just after luncheon, in plenty of time to rest yourself before the gather as Borli will say would be wise.”

“Go ahead, Gimli. I have no wish for you to wait around while I am in reverie when you could be spending time with your family.” He glanced at Gimli's mother, giving her a diffident smile. “As your mother has said: if I need anything she will be here.”

“Very well, if you're sure you don't mind, elf, I'll go.”

“I do not mind. I will be resting most of the day, as I think we all agree that I need to.”

“Just so,” Gimli agreed firmly. “Have you had enough to eat?”

“For now, yes, I believe so.” He turned to Naris with a sweet smile. “Everything was wonderful, Naris, thank you.”

“You're welcome. I'll have some luncheon waiting for you whenever you wake, but if you're hungry either before or after, just let me know. There's always something here for a hungry guest.”

“Thank you, I will not hesitate if that is the case.” He gave her a slightly mischievous grin. “Especially if it includes more of your delicious bread.” Naris laughed.

“I'll make sure it does.”

“Come on, lad, I'll walk you back to your room and get you settled before I leave.” Gimli said, rising from his chair. Legolas nodded in agreement and carefully unfolded himself from his seat.

“Naris, Gloin, I thank you both for the wonderful meal and your hospitality,” Legolas said, bowing slightly from the waist to Gimli's parents.

“Our pleasure, Legolas,” Gloin replied. “Rest well, and I'll see you tonight.”

“Aye, and if you need anything, just call for me. I'll be listening for you,” Naris added, picking up Legolas and Gimli's empty plates.

“Thank you, I will.” Legolas bowed again an ducked through the doorway after Gimli.

                                                            ~

“There's that's got it,” Gimli said, draping the shirt he had just helped Legolas ease over his head over the back of a chair. “Let me take the clasp off your braid and you can lay yourself down. Are you sure you don't mind being on your own today?”

“I am sure.” Legolas sighed and ran his hand through his hair to undo the braid once the clasp was removed. “I will be in a healing sleep again. Do not worry for me.”

“Good enough then, I'll see you later.”

                                                          ~

Gimli entered the kitchen again, rubbing the back of his neck. His mother glanced at him as he entered before turning her attention back to the plates she was washing.

“You're worried about him and it's because of more than what happened yesterday,” she stated. He met her eyes briefly before looking over at Gloin, who sat by the hearth with his pipe.

“Aye, I am.” He sighed, pulling out his pipe and joining his father by the hearth. After filling and lighting his pipe he took a couple of puffs as he considered his words carefully. “Elves don't get ill as such.”

“So we've always been told,” Gloin said, “But Borli is certain there's something going on with him.” He blew a smoke ring. “I'm guessing that'd be that 'Sea Longing' thing you mentioned, yes?”

“Aye. Put simply, Legolas needs to leave Middle Earth and sail to Valinor but he won't, daft, stubborn creature that he is.” He gave his parents a solemn look. “Once an elf hears the call of the sea, they will never again be content to remain here. Only by heeding the call can they receive healing and peace. Legolas doesn't want to leave. He says he has too many things he wants to see and do, and he doesn't want to leave his mortal friends before he has to.” He sighed again. “Nor does he wish to leave his father, and I doubt King Thranduil has any plans to sail.” He frowned, dropping his chin to his chest for a moment before continuing. “So, aye, I worry about him.”

“It seems to me that you've taken on the role of a brother to him,” Gloin commented, emptying the bowl of his pipe into the fireplace.

“As he has to me,” Gimli confirmed.

“Also seems to me that he's perhaps been a bit sheltered up to when he left Rivendell last year.”

“Aye, somewhat, mostly due to his duties to the realm.”

“And perhaps his age, or lack thereof?” Naris asked with a slight smile.

“Aye, right again.” Gimli gave a dry chuckle. “As elves go, Legolas is barely out of swaddling. However, you needn't tell him I phrased it quite that way. I've no wish to be left hanging by my feet from a tree.” Gloin chuckled.

“So you're saying he's responsible for the state Master Aragorn, or I should say King Elessar, was in the morning I left Rivendell for home?”

“No, that was Master Elrond's sons' doing, not Legolas'. And you didn't see Legolas that morning because he was in worse shape than Aragorn.” Gimli laughed outright. “As he tells it, the twins were paying both Legolas and Aragorn back for something that happened twenty years ago.”

“So, you decided to bring him here to distract him from what this 'Sea Longing' is doing to him and to raise his spirits, yes?” Naris asked, drying off the last plate and drying her hands before coming to sit next to her husband.

“Got it in one, Mam.”

“And his father gave his leave because he's hoping for the same thing, I'd hazard to guess.” Gloin chewed on the stem of his unlit pipe.

“Aye, that's what I'm thinking,” Gimli agreed. “Anyone can say what they wish about King Thranduil on other subjects, but he loves that lad and he's a good father to him.”

“Well, what can we do to help?” Naris asked.

“Just treat him like you would me, Tavri, or Niri. Legolas is a bit shy around people he doesn't know at first, particularly females I've noted, but he loves being fussed over, though he'd sooner fall on those knives of his than admit it.”

“From what I've seen of him thus far, it won't be difficult to do that. Don't worry, love, we'll see to him.”

“Thank you, Mam.” He rose. “I'd best go find Niri and Tavri before they leave.”

                                                                   ~

Legolas rolled onto his back, blinking, disoriented for a moment by the unfamiliar ceiling above him but relaxing when he remembered where he was. A slight sound reached his ear and he turned his head to see a very small dwarf standing a couple of feet away, staring at him in fascination. The child appeared female to him, and would stand just barely over his knee were he on his feet.

"Hello, little one," he said, smiling. Really, he thought, she was rather cute.

"I'm not the little one, that's Norlin," she stated, frowning.

"I ask your pardon, I have not met Norlin so I knew no better." He fought to hide his amusement.

"Mam said that you're an elf." Evidently, she had forgiven him his error.

"Yes, I am. My name is Legolas." Again, he fought to hide his amusement as she struggled to pronounce his name. "You may call me 'Leaf' if it is easier for you to say."

"How come?"

"Because that is what my name means in my tongue: Green Leaf."

"Oh. I'll call you Green Leaf. Mam says I have to call folks by their proper names."

"Very well, I would not wish to argue with your mother. It would be rude." He sat up, slowly so as not to startle her, but she appeared to be fearless and moved to stand directly in front of him. "May I have the honor of knowing your name?"

"I'm Nalis. How come your ears is pointy?"

"I am an elf." He could not resist chuckling, but she was too interested in examining him to take offense.

"You gots pretty hair, I like it."

"Thank you, so do you. I like it." He grinned as she looked down at the end of her red braid and back up at him.

"Mam said don't wake you up, but I didn't did I? Your eyes was open."

"I was asleep, but your mother does not need to know that. Elves sleep with their eyes open most of the time."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," she said, chewing on her lower lip.

"It is all right, Nalis. Your mother will not find out from me."

"Do you really sleep with your eyes open?"

"Yes."

"Do you gots a daughter?"

"No, I am not so fortunate as that."

"Oh. Do you gots a son?"

"No, I have no children, nor a wife."

"Oh." She looked him over minutely again before sitting down in his lap. "I like you," she said with an air of satisfaction. He could not resist chuckling.

"Thank you, I like you as well. Shall we be friends, do you think?"

"Yes," she said, snuggling close. "Can I put gems in your hair? Cousin Gimli lets me put them in his sometimes."

"Perhaps." He grinned down at her, tucking that information away until he could use it well. "I usually do not wear gems."

"It would be very pretty," she said smiling winningly up at him.

Just then the door opened and Narin fixed a less than pleased look on the dwarfling.

"Nalis, you were told not to wake your cousin's guest." The dwarfling buried her face in Legolas' chest and against his better judgment, he could not help but intercede on her behalf.

"Peace, Narin, the child did not disturb me." He smiled down at the top of her head. "In fact, I am completely charmed." The child peeked at him before turning to her mother with a grin.

"This is Green Leaf. He's nice, and he gots pointed ears and pretty hair and I'm going to put gems in it for him 'cause he doesn't know how to," she stated. Legolas had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

"Nalis, quit being a pest," another voice came from beyond Narin. "Besides, you'll end up with boils if you mess with an elf's hair." Narin turned as swiftly as lightening and dealt a sharp slap to the back of the head of a dwarfling that stood shoulder high on her.

"Torin, that's utter nonsense and rude to boot! You owe Master Legolas an apology. He's going to think your wits lacking if you keep spouting that rot." The male dwarfling muttered an apology and Legolas readily gave his pardon.

"Truly, I think there is plenty of nonsense told of both elves and dwarves. It is forgotten already." He eased Nalis out of his lap and set her on her feet. "Have I slept long? It is difficult for me to tell what time of day it is unless I am closer to the trees and sky."

"Some few hours, and I dare say you needed it. The gather won't start for few hours yet. You should come to the kitchen and have something to eat. Gimli's off with my brothers still, but Aunt's been keeping an ear out for you since they left and I know she saved a couple of tarts aside for you since Gimli said you were fond of them."

"Is there one for me?" Nalis asked, her little face hopeful. Her mother's mouth quirked in amusement.

"You've had one, can't you wait until the gather for more?" Both dwarflings shook their heads.

"Worry not, I will share," Legolas said, grinning, "Tarts always taste better when they are shared."

"Come along with you two and leave him in peace," Narin said, herding her older two children ahead of her. As the door closed, Legolas heard Nalis' voice pipe up.

"Torin, you told me tarts always tasted better stolen!"

The elf fell over laughing.

                                                                ~

Naris looked up to see Legolas duck under the lintel.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you." He smiled a bit shyly, seeming to Naris to be unsure of himself outside Gimli's company.

"You look better, rested. Are you hungry?"

"A bit." He gave Narin, who stood by the hearth minding a large pot, a brief smile.

"Come sit by me, Green Leaf!" Nalis called. She and her brother were sitting at the table and she was kicking her diminutive heels, which did not reach the ground, against the chair. She had crumbs in the downy curls on her upper lip and chin, and a smear of something that looked suspiciously like tart filling on her cheekbone.

"I see that there was a tart for you after all," he commented, grinning at her. She grinned back.

"Aunt saved us two," she said smugly. "Mam says you don't have to share with us now, but if you can't eat all of yours, I'll help you finish them."

"I think, perhaps, it would be better if we heeded your mother. After all, eating too many tarts would make our bellies ache and there will be too many good things to eat and too many things to see and do at the gather that we would not wish to miss because of a belly ache," he pointed out, stifling the grin that threatened to cross his face. She cocked her head, clearly mulling his words over before nodding and turning her attention to the contents of the cup in front of her. Her brother rolled his eyes and grimaced when this action drew a frown from their mother. Legolas, greatly amused by both children, pretended not to notice as he carefully arranged himself into the chair between the dwarflings. Naris set a steaming bowl in front of him along with a plate of cheese and bread and a mug of what smelled like cider.

"There's more soup if you want it after you've finished that," she said, the pat she gave him on his good shoulder prompting a quizzical look that shifted into a slight smile.

"Aunt makes the bestest soup, Green Leaf," Nalis opined, setting her now empty cup aside.

"And the best bread," he said, leaning close to her. "I have never had better, but please do not tell Menellion, the elf who bakes bread at my home, should you ever meet him."

"I won't, I promise," she replied in a loud whisper. He had to bite his lip to stifle his chuckles.

"Nalis, Torin, bid your aunt and Master Legolas good-bye, please. We've got to get you and the baby bathed and dressed for the gather, and your Da needs to be there early to help with the ale." Narin began to shoo the dwarflings to the door.

"Good-bye, Aunt, Master Legolas."

"Good-bye, Aunt! Sit by me at the feast, Green Leaf!"

"I will see you both later," Narin said, laughing at her daughter's antics.

"I look forward to seeing all of you later, Mistress Narin." Legolas waved to Nalis, and grinning, turned his attention to his soup.

                                                 ~

"I'm almost afraid to ask, knowing my grand niece,  but 'Green Leaf'?" Naris slipped into the chair opposite the elf.

"Nalis finds it difficult to say 'Legolas'. 'Green Leaf' is what 'Legolas' translates to in the Common Tongue," he explained, glancing at her diffidently. "The soup is very good."

"I'm glad you like it. Gimli said you weren't fussy about your food."

"I have spent much time away from home in areas of the Realm where having a cooking fire would be disastrous and have had to survive on waybread and dried fruit in the better times, less savory things in harder times. It has given me a much greater appreciation for meals and those who prepare them."

"That's no bad thing for anyone to have, especially a king's son."

"My father said the same, and I agree with you both." They were both silent while Legolas finished his meal and Naris, her mug of cider.

"Gimli is worried about you," Naris said, watching the elf out of the corner of her eye.

"I know," he replied softly, his eyes on his bowl. "He aids me far more than he could ever know."

"It isn't one-sided, lad. You do as much for him, though it's not his way to say so."

"He need not say it. What is, is. We have no need to speak of it between ourselves." Naris could almost see him retreating into himself and she reached out, placing her hand over his. Startled gray eyes met hers and she smiled at him.

"Aye, there's a lot to be said for that. Silence can heal as much as words can hurt sometimes." She gave the long-fingered hand a pat. "The fact that Gimli's claimed you as a brother is enough for me. His judgment's always been sound when it comes to seeing others for what they are." His gaze sharpened.

"I think perhaps that Gimli is not the only one who sees beyond the surface clearly."

"Perhaps." She rose, taking his bowl and refilling it before setting it in front of him again. "You're a good lad, Legolas, and I'm glad that you're there watching my Gimli's back."

"Thank you." He nibbled on a piece of cheese absently before speaking again. "Gimli has spoken of you often, but you are not what I expected." A faint hint of color rose in his cheeks. "I did not expect you to accept me so readily. Forgive me, I underestimated you."

"Nothing to forgive," she said, shrugging. "I expect you hadn't met a female dwarf before you came here. There's no way you could have known what we'd do or say." She refilled his mug with cider. "Look here, lad, as Gimli's as much as adopted you I can hardly do differently, can I?" She smiled at him and was pleased when he smiled back.

"I suppose not, else he would be upset with both of us," he replied with a chuckle.

"Can't have that," she agreed, chuckling herself. "Now, how about those tarts that my grand niece was telling you about, hmm?"

                                                       ~

Gimli and Gloin paused at the entrance to the kitchen, hearing both Naris' throaty chuckles and Legolas' musical laughter. Gimli grinned at his father.

"Sounds like they've gotten on well while we've been gone," he commented. If anyone could get Legolas to unburden himself, his mother could. After all, fundamentally, young males were young males, it mattered little what race they were, and Naris had been mothering Gimli and his various cousins for decades. As adept as she was at getting Gimli, who was notoriously close-mouthed and stubborn, to speak of his troubles the elf should pose little challenge. Gloin nodded.

"Aye, you know your Mam." He pushed to door open and entered, Gimli at his heels.

Legolas was sitting cross-legged on the floor by the hearth, mug of cider in his hand. Gimli noted with no little relief that he looked much more rested than he had that morning and that the polite, cool, reserved mask that the elf usually wore in company he was not familiar with was nowhere to be seen. Naris sat in the chair she kept by the hearth with her own mug, still chuckling quietly.

"Whose character are you defaming now, elf?" Gimli asked with a wicked grin.

"Aragorn's, of course," Legolas replied, his grin every bit as wicked as Gimli's. "I need not edit my tales of him for your mother as I have had to in times past for his mother and others who would bedevil him if they knew the entire story."

"I suppose this means that you will be editing your stories of my son to me, hmmm?" Naris said, her eyes twinkling with humor.

"Of course," he said grinning up at her. "I do not wish to have him tell unedited tales of me to my father, or Arwen. Fair is fair, after all. Besides, you will have the full tale out of him yourself, unless I am very much mistaken in regards to your abilities, my lady," he stated, raising his cup to her.

"Smart lad," she replied, touching her cup to his before they both drank. Gimli shook his head, laughing.

"So, which tale did you tell?"

"You have heard it; the time when we decided to pay back Elladan and Elrohir for stealing our clothing while we were swimming."

"Ah, yes, that was when you drugged their wine and hung them upside down from the trees in the courtyard wearing nothing but their socks."

"Yes, and we knew that they would not retaliate against Estel alone so we timed it for the night before I was to leave for home. They were just waking as we were riding out. They had to wait twenty years to pay us back."

"Was that why they...?"

"No, that was for my returning the favor while Aragorn could not. Their grave error in that instance was that you caught the brunt of it. They underestimated you, elvellon. Had I suspected what an evil genius you were in regards to revenge, I would have sought your advice with the earlier prank. It would have put an end to it without both of us, and Arod, being covered in fresh pig manure."

"Master Elrond's sons did that?" Gloin's eyebrows were in his hairline.

"Oh, aye, there's been a prank war going on for centuries between those two and Legolas, and for decades with Aragorn in the mix," Gimli replied. "Young elves apparently aren't that different from young dwarves in some things."

"I believe you ended it. They are smart enough to know when to surrender."

"Aye, no one gets to torment you but me," Gimli said, clouting Legolas on his good shoulder lightly.

"I know better than to try anything of the sort with you. I have seen you in action and do not want to be anywhere but on the same side, thank you."

"Smart lad," the three dwarves said in unison. Legolas raised his mug to all of them, laughing.

Snowfall ch 5
See chapter 1 for full disclaimer.

“There, that's got it. I'd say you're presentable enough, elf.” Gimli fastened the clasp holding the last of Legolas' braids and stepped around to face his friend.

“Thank you, elvellon. I can manage everything except my hair. Perhaps by tomorrow I will not need your assistance.” The elf smiled up at Gimli from his seat on the end of his pallet.

“Best take it easy as Borli advised you, but I'm sure you'll be able to by the time the big celebration takes place. It's just as well that the family gathers are informal, as fussy are you are about your hair when you dress up.”

“I am not fussy,” Legolas retorted with an annoyed snort. “There are protocols to be followed when one must be formal.”

“Well, if you're finished not being fussy, there's crayfish, mussels, and ale waiting for us at the gather.” Gimli grinned behind his beard, amused that Legolas was so easily irritated by that subject of conversation. “Best wear the sling Borli brought, even if you don't think you need it.”

“I had planned to,” the elf said, looping the sling over his head and placing his injured arm in it. “He was kind enough to tend me, even though I know he had not slept, and the shoulder does get sore after awhile. This will help.”

“Good enough, let's go then. Mam and Da went ahead to start the cook fires.”

                                                                      ~

The doorway to the chamber the gather was being held in was high enough that Legolas had only to duck his head a small amount to enter. Once inside, the ceiling was nearly double his height and he straightened, looking up at the intricate carvings that adorned the ceiling with great appreciation. He glanced down at Gimli with a smile of delight.

“My friend, truly your folk are the finest of artisans!” Gimli grinned and shrugged.

“So are yours, in their way as we are in ours. But, I'm glad you like it.” He clapped the elf on his uninjured shoulder. “Come on, I want to introduce you to the rest of my family.” Legolas hesitated.

“Gimli, is everyone here your family?” The chamber was quite large and there were many dwarves present, of varying ages.

“Well, yes, either by blood or marriage.” Gimli gave him a measuring look. “Does that surprise you?”

“I supposed that I had not given it much thought until now.” He smiled. “It gladdens me to see how numerous your family is, elvellon.”

“Good, because they all are very curious about you.” Gimli chuckled at the perplexed look Legolas gave him. “Most of them have never met an elf before, much less one who is shieldbrother to one of their kin.” He slapped the elf's back again. “Don't get shy on me now, lad.”

“Green Leaf! Green Leaf!” A small whirlwind hit his knees. Legolas laughed as he disentangled the dwarfling from his legs and knelt so she would not have to crane her neck to look at him.

“Well met, my lady Nalis!” He grinned delightedly when she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him before planting a kiss on his cheek. Around them, startled glances and chuckles were plentiful. Legolas ignored them and settled her on his knee. “Have you been helping to make the feast, my lady?”

“No, I'm still too little,” she sighed. “But I did make something for you!” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a string of colorful beads attached to a clasp. “This is to put in your hair,” she explained, holding it up for his inspection.

“It is perfect. Thank you, Lady Nalis.” He turned his head and bent so that she could reach the back of his head. “Would you honor me by placing it in my hair?”  She reached up and clasped it at the top of the braid going down the center of the back of his head and nodded with satisfaction. “Now, what do you say to showing me around the chamber and helping your cousin introduce me to the rest of your family?”

“Come on, sweetling,” Gimli said, plucking Nalis off Legolas' knee and lifting her into his arms. “Let's introduce Legolas around.” He chuckled as he, in turn got a hug and a kiss from the dwarfling.

                                                                        ~

“Over here, lads! There's bowls of mussels and crayfish for both of you,” Gloin said, handing Gimli and Legolas each a large bowl that was heaped with the shellfish. “There's bread, butter, cheese, and pickles on the tables. Go ahead and sit, I'll bring the ale and wine for you, Legolas.”

“I am not opposed to drinking ale, Gloin,” Legolas said, carefully setting his bowl on the table before folding his tall frame to sit on a bench by the table. “I simply do not care for the ale served in many Mannish taverns. It is not of the quality that dwarven ale is.”
Gloin laughed.

“Truth be told, I don't much care for that rotgut either,” he admitted setting tankards in front of both his son and the elf. “And I think you'll find that this is a particularly fine brew.” Legolas took a healthy swig and grinned.

“Perfect. I have never had better.” He looked over the utensils on the table before turning a quizzical look on Gimli. “You may have to show me the proper way to do this, my friend.”

“Nothing to it, laddie. You just use the small knife to take the mussels out of their shells. As for the crayfish, this is the way you tackle them.” He deftly popped the tail off one of the crustaceans, sucked the material out of it's head, and pried the tail in half freeing the meat which he placed in his mouth. “Now,” he said after swallowing the morsel, “they're cooked with spices, but a lot of us like to put this stuff on them.” He indicated small bowls of a dark red sauce. “I'll warn you, it's fairly spicy, but nothing like those Haradric seed pods that Pippin tricked us into eating. Best way to do it is to put a mussel or the tail meat of the crayfish onto one of these pieces of toasted bread, put some of the sauce on it and eat it that way.”

“I shall try it that way,” the elf said, mimicking Gimli's demonstration with a crayfish of his own. He chewed the morsel thoughtfully before swallowing and grinning at his friend. “I like it very much.”

“Good.” Gimli replied. “If the spices start to get to you, eat one of the pickles. That's the fastest way to kill the burn.” He watched Legolas try one of the mussels with the bread and sauce.

“The mussels are even better this way than the crayfish. I believe I will have to take the sling off, however. Two hands are necessary for this.” He carefully wiped his fingers before slipping the sling off and laying it over his knee. Soon he and Gimli were both digging into their meal and conversing with the dwarf's parents and his other family members seated near them.

                                                                       ~

“Had enough to eat, Legolas?” Gimli asked, dumping the empty shells in his bowl into a barrel set aside for that purpose before stacking his bowl with others on a table next to the barrel.

“I should think so!” the elf replied with a laugh, following Gimli's lead with his own shells and bowl. “I think I may have eaten my own weight in mussels and crayfish tonight.”

“And pickles,” the dwarf teased, for Legolas had proved to be very fond of those. “But I hope you've saved a corner or two, as our hobbit friends would say. There's stewed stone fruit and berries for afters, along with Mam's bread.”

“I will find a corner or two for that,” the elf replied promptly.

                                                                   ~

Gloin lit his pipe and took a few puffs on it before sitting back with a sigh. Beside him, Gimli blew a smoke ring before reaching for his tankard. The older dwarf glanced around the chamber, locating his son's friend.

Legolas was surrounded by dwarflings of various ages. Nalis was perched on his knee, and her baby sister,  Norlin, was nestled in the crook of good arm. The elf had the rapt attention of the younglings around him as he told stories, tailored to their tender years, of his and Gimli's travels and his own childhood. Even the older dwarflings were crowding close to hear, despite themselves. Peals of laughter erupted as he finished a tale. One of the older youngsters handed him a tankard, filled with cider rather than ale. Legolas thanked him with a smile and drained it before launching into another story.

“He looks like he's enjoying that as much as the youngsters are,” Gloin commented to his son.

“He is,” Gimli replied, raising his tankard of ale to his lips and taking a swig. “Legolas adores children. I've seen him do this in Minas Tirith, Edoras, and Dunharrow.” He chuckled briefly. “You should have seen the children in Dunharrow vying for his attention. I think every one of them ended up with a flower crown or a sword fashioned from a stick made by him and he loved it as much or more than they did.”

“I imagine the parents were grateful for the respite,” Gloin remarked.

“Aye, even though I doubt they understood why a warrior would willingly entertain a passel of youngsters, much less enjoy doing so.”

“Has he any of his own?” one of Gimli's cousins asked.

“Nay, he's not wed yet.” Gimli replied.

“Ah, well there's time for that,” the cousin said, puffing on his own pipe. “Now that the War's over. He'd make a good da.” He eyed Gimli. “So would you, Cousin. I'll wager you're considered prime marriage material, even more than you were before.”  Gimli shrugged.

“Mayhap, mayhap not.” He emptied his pipe and set it aside. “I've plans of my own, so any lady who might set her fancy on me would have to be amenable to them, providing King Thorin approves, of course.”

“What do you have in mind?” Gloin asked.

“Well, first of all, I need to speak to the king. After he's made his decision, I'll fill the lot of you in.” He stretched, and then settled back in his chair. “But, suffice it to say that I've seen some places in my travels that would benefit from our folks' talents.”

“Sounds good to me,” another cousin piped up. “We've got a good thing going here, but I'd like to try my hand at helping start another colony, perhaps find a nice mine or two of metals or gems to work.”

“So would I, especially now that I've age and experience enough to try it,” yet another cousin said.

“We'll talk more about it after I've spoken to the king,” Gimli said. He stood, stretching again. “It looks like the youngsters are being herded off to bed now so I'll see if Legolas wants to join us now that we're done with our pipes.”

“Was that why he didn't before?” Gimli's cousin Torli asked.

“Aye, elves don't like pipe smoke, any of them. Besides, he wouldn't have passed on telling stories to the younglings for anything, if I know him.” Gimli walked over to the elf, who was putting his sling back on and spoke with him briefly. Legolas nodded and rose to follow Gimli back over to the group gathered by the hearth. Gimli reclaimed the chair he had occupied before and Legolas opted to sit on the floor beside Gimli's chair.

“Well, what do you think of our gather thus far, Legolas?” Gloin asked.

“As fine as any I have seen,” the elf replied, accepting a tankard of ale from one of the cousins. “I am curious however, as to how you find such quantities of crayfish and mussels in the winter?”

“Easy enough,” Niri replied. “We farm them. We started doing that the first year we were here. It was one thing we didn't have to trade for. The climate inside the mountain is the same year round, so it was a simple thing to set up and an easy way to feed our families.”

“Ah! I had wondered.” He chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Would it be permissible for me to see how you do this? My people do not farm shellfish, but I think perhaps that we should. Particularly when some of us move to Ithilien. We will need what resources we can gather simply to survive.”

“I don't see why not,” Niri said, looking around the group and seeing agreement there. “It's not difficult; you just need the proper set up.” He took a swig of his ale. “Plus, then you've got the shells for fertilizer and building material.”

“Ithilien's in Gondor, yes?” Torli asked.

“Yes. King Elessar has given me leave to bring some of my people there to repair the damage that has been done by evil creatures. My king has given his leave as well. We shall depart in the spring.”

“I hope to start out on my own ventures in the spring as well.” Gimli said. “Pending the king's approval. I'm hoping we can travel together. There are still evil creatures and bandits on the roads between here and Gondor. A larger band with many warriors would not be a target worth risking.”

“I hope so as well. Not only would I like to travel in your company once more, but you are correct that we would not tempt attack with a larger group.” Legolas drained his tankard and accepted a refill.

“Are you certain that's a good idea?” Torli asked. “We're fine with each other, but not all of our folk or yours are.”

“I plan to choose those going with me carefully,” Legolas replied. “Those who go must be able to get along with dwarves and Men. I will accept no hot-heads or fools who would cause problems or take offense where there is none.”

“Nor will I,” Gimli said decisively. He sighed, glancing down at Legolas. “If we don't want to be in hot water with Borli, I suggest we seek our beds, lad.”

“As much as I am enjoying the ale and the conversation, I would agree, my friend.” Legolas drained his tankard again.

“Aye, best not to annoy your healer,” Niri opined. “They tend to dose you with something foul and knock you out.”

“You'd know, stone-head,” Tavri snorted, earning a clout in the arm from his brother.

“So would you, granite-skull.”

Gimli chuckled, noting that Legolas was looking down at his empty mug, stifling the grin that threatened to cross his face. He slapped the elf on the back, rising from his chair. “Come on, you daft point-ear. I'll make sure you don't get lost trying to find your bed.”

“That will be a first, Master Stone-cleaver. As I recall, I had to lead you around Minas Tirith to make certain you did not go astray.” The elf shot back, winking at Gloin who chuckled into his tankard.

“Go on with the lot of you,” the elder dwarf grumbled good-naturedly. “I'd like a bit of peace to finish my ale in.”