Chapter 29  A Strange Alliance

To the surprise of everyone, Legolas included, it was not Tathar who informed Thranduil that they would be travelling back to Gondor with the Dwarves; the news was delivered by Gimli himself when he was brought before the King. It was almost as if history was repeating itself as the Dwarf and his friends, who had  had been found following the Elf Path, were escorted by the sentries to the King’s Halls to explain their reason for being in the Woodland Realm.

“Your wear your father’s features, Gimli, son of Glóin, and his arrogant bearing,” Thranduil stated as the leader of the party of Dwarves stood before him, glaring defiantly at his guards. “What brings you to Eryn Lasgalen?” the King asked even though he suspected the reason had something to do with the friendship between the Dwarf and his son. Thranduil glanced at the doorway as Legolas and Tathar entered the throne room, and with a slight inclination of his head, silently ordered them to remain where they were whilst he continued his questioning.

“I am here to see if your son is ready to return to Gondor with me and my kinfolk,” Gimli declared with a small measure of pride as he looked Thranduil directly in the eye. Not only was the King even more fair of face than his son, even to a Dwarf’s eyes, but Gimli was amazed at the force of the power behind the steely hardness of his gaze.

“And what makes you think I will allow him to do so?” asked the King, impressed by the Dwarf’s straightforward response, but his disapproval of  his stated purpose evident in the coldness of his voice.

“Legolas is a proven warrior and well beyond the age where he needs your permission,” observed Gimli with his usual abruptness. Legolas rolled his eyes in exasperation, wishing not for the first time that the Dwarf would think a little more carefully before he spoke. If it had been his friend’s intention to offend the King he had managed to do so quite successfully for Thranduil’s face darkened with rage.

“I will allow no such insolence in my court,” he declared angrily.

“Then tell Legolas I am here and we will soon be gone,” replied Gimli, exchanging a glance with the King that was decidedly unfriendly.

“Greetings, friend Gimli. I see you and Adar have met,” said Legolas pleasantly as he stepped forward, deciding it was time he intervened. He placed a friendly hand on the Dwarf’s shoulder, squeezing gently to indicate it would be best if he kept his silence. “I would also like you to meet my dear friend Tathar,” he added signalling the Elf forward.

“I am honoured to meet you, Gimli son of Glóin. Legolas has told me of your many adventures and I trust we will also become friends,” said Tathar sincerely.

“Well met, Tathar,” responded Gimli with far more politeness than he had yet displayed to the King as he clasped the Elf’s arm in a warrior’s greeting. ”I have heard much of your own exploits from our friend and am very pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”

“Tathar perhaps you would care to escort your new found friend to one of the guest chambers and arrange for suitable accommodation for the others while I speak with Legolas,” said Thranduil scornfully,  dismissing them both and turning his attention to his son.

“You did not inform me that the Dwarves were to be your travelling companions,” he said, still seething with anger.

“I thought it of no consequence, Adar, and even I did not realise Gimli intended to come here first. We were to meet at the border of the forest,” said Legolas, unable to hide his disappointment that his Adar and his beloved Gimli had taken an instant dislike to one another.

“I see, but you have been home barely a year, why is it that you are leaving so soon?” The anguish in his voice made Legolas realise that it was his imminent departure more than the Dwarf’s presence that had upset the King. He smiled lovingly at his despondent sire, and tenderly took his hands in his own.

“Adar, a year is a long time for my mortal friends, and it will be several months more before we reach Minas Tirith. It is time we made a move, for Aragorn is likely growing impatient to see us return,” he explained gently.

“Ai, yet I am reluctant to see you leave,” responded Thranduil sadly. Legolas was torn between love for his Adar and the promise he had made Gondor’s King, and immense sadness washed over his heart as he honoured the choice he had already made.

“Adar, you must know that part of me wishes to remain here with you and that you are ever in my heart, no matter how much distance separates us.” The elder Elf’s heart filled with joy at the love and tenderness in his son’s voice and he drew his son into a warm embrace, but it did not erase the sadness and sense of loss he felt.

“As you are ever in mine, my beloved Legolas,” he whispered.

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“I take it that when the King said ‘guest room’ he did not mean the dungeons?” asked Gimli a little nervously as he followed Tathar from the throne room. The Elf laughed, eliciting a grunt of disgust from his companion.

“Had Legolas not interrupted your audience, I daresay that is exactly where you would have found yourself,” he replied with amusement. Tathar did not really believe Thranduil would have locked Gimli away, but he had taken an immediate liking to the Dwarf and saw no harm in teasing him a little.

“Well laddie, since I am to be spared that indignity, and I doubt I would rest well under the King’s roof, perhaps you would just show my friends and I to a suitable campsite , somewhere not too close to his  dungeons,” suggested Gimli with a hint of facetiousness.

“A wise choice,” agreed Tathar, pleased that his feeling for the Dwarf was apparently mutual, and they both laughed heartily as they approached the small group who waited outside, exchanging unfriendly glares with their Elven guards.

Tathar bowed politely to Gimli’s friends and then lead them to a small grassy clearing that was located well away from the trees that housed most of the telain, as well as from the doors to the King’s Hall.

“Are we to be under guard until we leave?” asked Gimli, noting that the Elves had followed them.

“Nay, you are my guests, and are to be treated as such,” replied Legolas as he strode up to the head guard. “Many thanks for seeing that my friends arrived safely. You are hereby released from this duty,” he said with the authority he possessed as the King’s son, but rarely displayed.

“Is your Adar still angry?” asked Tathar as he and Legolas watched the Dwarves set up their camp.

“Nay, he is no longer angry, just upset,” replied Legolas, feeling no need to relate the more personal details of his conversation with Thranduil. Only one who knew him as well as Tathar could sense the melancholy in his mood.

“Take heart, mellon nin. I have decided that I quite like Gimli, and I am certain our friends coming with us to Ithilien will like him and his friends as well,” Tathar assured Legolas, placing a brotherly arm about the younger Elf’s shoulders.

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It was a strange sight to behold two days later, as Legolas and his friends said their final farewells, and joined the band of Dwarves. Contrary to Tathar’s prediction, there was still a considerable amount of animosity and wariness between the two Races, and at first both parties kept to themselves, with the exception of Legolas, Gimli and Tathar.

Whenever a group conversation was attempted, it invariably ended up with both the Elves and Dwarves taking insult or offence. Fortunately Legolas and Gimli were well accustomed to such sparring, having indulged in a war of words themselves at the start of the Fellowship, and they had little trouble calming their kinfolk.

“It is difficult to believe we were once so unfriendly towards each other, is it not, laddie?” Gimli asked Legolas one night after they had resolved a particularly unpleasant confrontation over the benefits of smoking of pipeweed as opposed to the delights of Elvish singing.

“And over the very same issues, on several occasions as I recall,” Legolas mused.

“Well, it was rather unfair of you to hide first my pipe, and then my leaf,” said Gimli with a wink in Tathar’s direction. The elf was listening in fascination to this delightful insight into Legolas’s past.

“Had you learnt to climb trees you could have easily retrieved it, and Pippin did offer you some cotton to block your ears when I sang for the Hobbits,” responded Legolas.

“You sang ALL the time; I did not wish to walk around deaf! But you must admit it was quite amusing when I ‘misplaced’ your comb. His hair looked quite unruly until I ‘found’ it several days later,” Gimli chuckled. Tathar laughed out loud. 

“That must have been torture for you, mellon nin,” he managed to say. “Gimli already knew you well if he realised you hated having even one hair out of place.” Legolas glared as the Dwarf but joined in the laughter.

“Well let us hope that our friends do not resort to such pranks, and come to friendship in a more dignified manner,” said Legolas. Until now he had not realised how tiresome the other members of the Fellowship must have found his and Gimli’s initial dislike of each other.

By the time the combined group reached the gates of the city, the Elves and Dwarves shared a grudging respect and in some cases, a newly forged friendship that surprised Aragorn, until he learned the reason why.

The King had asked Legolas, Gimli and Tathar to join him for an informal dinner on the eve they arrived, but had been astonished when the invitation was refused. When asked for a reason, it was Legolas who offered the explanation that stunned Aragorn into speechlessness.

“After several days’ journey, we had come upon a small stream and had followed its course to find it splayed out into a large pool that proved irresistible to those of us who had been unable to bathe as often as we wished. The Dwarves declined the invitation to join us in the refreshing water, preferring instead to rest on the grassy shore and smoke their pipes as they watched the frivolity.

We had become so accustomed to travelling with little regard for our safety, in this time of peace, that before we realised it, a band of rogue Orcs began attacking the Dwarves. They fought fiercely not only to save themselves, but to protect those of us who were still in the water. As we donned our leggings, two of Gimli’s comrades quickly retrieved our bows from beneath the tree that was some distance from the pool, and once armed, we were able to help defeat the attackers.

Not only did the Dwarves fight with courage in our defence, but many of my comrades had never witnessed axes wielded so skilfully and now look on them with the regard of warriors. Our companions had won both respect and gratitude, and as a reward, asked merely that we join them in a celebratory drink at Gimli's favourite tavern.” Aragorn laughed, it was just the kind of payment he would expect Gimli’s friends to demand.

“Of course, the Elves agreed to deal with the tavern bill,” added Gimli with a merry chuckle.

“And the Dwarves have agreed to refrain from trying to force us to drink their ale,” added Tathar.

“Indeed I see why you are honour bound to refuse my invitation,” conceded Aragorn when he finally found his tongue. His eyes were dancing with amusement and a tinge of longing as he imagined the look that would be on the poor tavern keeper’s face when the strange party arrived at his door. Legolas noticed the hidden desire in his friend’s countenance, and walked over to remove the crown from the King’s head.

“It would not be fitting for King Elessar to join us, but you are most welcome Aragorn, although you may like to bring your crown… just in case trouble brews,” he whispered into his friend’s ear.

So it was that, at Aragorn’s request, the tavern was closed to the public, and the debt of gratitude between the Elves and Dwarves was settled to the satisfaction of all. The people of Minas Tirith witnessed a sight never before seen, nor even imagined as the beings of uncommon beauty and light, shared their evening with the strong, sturdy children of Aulë.