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The company had left the horrors of Khazad-dûm behind weeks ago. The sorrow over losing Gandalf has dulled to an ache in their hearts, but never gone away entirely. Each of them have coped in their own way, but Aragorn is glad to see that all of them are in higher spirits than they were before. Proper food and rest beneath the golden trees of Lothlórien have done them wonders, but they need to leave soon to carry on their mission. As much as Aragorn would love to tarry, he feels the urgency weighing heavy on his mind. They need to start to prepare for the road again. Now, as the leader of the company, he’s in desperate need of advice and all the help they can get. With Gandalf gone and him the sole leader of the company, he decides to seek counsel from the lord and the lady of the forest.
He starts his way along the flet, which has been their home these past weeks. It’s circling the massive tree trunk and you have to walk all the way around it to reach the stairs as well as the walkways that criss-cross across the trees. By the colour of the light that sieves through the leaves, Aragorn deduces it to be early morning, though time acts strange in the heart of the enchanted forest. The rest of the fellowship are still fast asleep. Aragorn passes the four hobbits sleeping close together, like hound pups in a pile. None of them even stir as he walks by them, stepping carefully over their haphazardly scattered belongins, not wanting to wake anyone up and answer curious questions.
As he gets nearer to the stairs, he’s surprised to hear Legolas’ hushed voice ahead of him. He’s expecting Legolas to be talking to some of the Galadhrim elves that he’s grown familiar with during their stay. The elves have welcomed Legolas as their distant kin and sometimes Legolas’ has disappeared for hours only to emerge from the forest together with the wardens, talking enthusiastically in a confusing mixture of their own tongues.
To Aragorn’s surprise, he finds Legolas sitting on the edge of the flet and speaking with Gimli, who stands next to him with arms crossed across his chest. His eyes firmly fixed on the elf, as he listens to Legolas’ chittering. The look in his eyes, it’s…it’s not something Aragorn can explain. He hasn’t had much dealings with the mountain folk, but Gimli has that look in his eyes when a dwarf first sets his eyes upon something precious he soon begins to covet with all his heart.
It makes no sense and almost feels unreal to Aragorn. The two of them have faced dangers together now and share a common goal. The animosity that existed in Rivendell and in the beginning of the quest has lessened and they treat each other cordially, but Aragorn wouldn’t yet call them friends. To find them sitting together at dawn is so unusual he stops walking and just stares for a moment. Legolas notices him immediately and whips his head around, braids flying, to look at Aragorn with a tired smile. They all wish each other good morning as Aragorn walks up to them. The look in Gimli’s eyes is gone swiftly and Aragorn realises he must have seen wrong. The ethereal light playing tricks on his senses.
“You have risen early this morning,” he states, not being able to fully mask the curious note in his voice.
“Actually, I’m afraid we never retired at all. It’s easy to lose track of time in this place,” Gimli says sheepishly and Aragorn’s brows shoot up. A little while ago they had fought fiercely over the blindfolds and now they were sitting up throughout the night together?
“Ah, it’s my fault! Gimli, my friend, forgive me for keeping you awake all this time! Sometimes when I start talking I find myself unable to stop.”
“Nothing to apologize here,” Gimli rejects the apology with a soft voice. He turns to Aragorn: “Legolas was telling me the wondrous tale of how this forest once reached all the way east to his homeland and the wondrous things that used to inhabit this old forest. Most riveting tale for a dwarf who hasn’t paid much mind to forests before.”
“It was well before my time so I only know what my elders have told me,” Legolas said sheepishly and Aragorn was almost certain he could see blush creeping upon his cheeks.
“But you might as well have painted a picture of it. You told it like the finest of the loremasters and your lucid voice ringed out beautifully in the night,”
Suddenly Aragorn starts to feel like he is intruding on something. He shifts his weight restlessly from one foot to another and glances at the stairway, just out of his reach.
“I regret that Khazad-dûm turned out to be as bad as I had feared. The stories I could tell of its wonders and happier days. They rival the grandest of elf tales,” Gimli sighs deeply but Legolas’ eyes light up. Aragorn tries to get a word in and excuse himself but can’t find the right time to interrupt. He glances back to see if anyone else has awoken and would come to interrupt them.
“Oh, I would love to sit together with you again, Gimli. It’s only fair you get to tell me of Khazad-dûm after you so patiently have listened to me talk through the night.”
“For such an eager listener and pleasing company, I would forgo sleep for another night,” Gimli says with a little bow of his head and Legolas lets out a soft laugh.
“Excuse me, I must leave you now. I…I have to go and see the lady and…go and rest while you still have the chance,” Aragorns finally interrupts them and speaks so fast he starts to stammer. Hurriedly, he rushes past them and disappears down the stairs.
**
Another day has passed and the sun is disappearing below the horizon. The three hunters have agreed to stop for a few hours. The trail before them is still very fresh and there is not a threat of rain that would muddle the prints. They can afford a moment of rest before continuing their journey.
Nighttime brings with itself a freezing wind and they find shelter between rocks that offer some protection against the elements. They can’t risk fire in fear that they would be spotted, so they sit quietly and watch the last rays of the sun slowly disappear below the horizon. Aragorn sits deep in his thoughts, gnawing away the tip of his pipe between his teeth. Gimli sits down as well with a loud, pained groan and stretches his arms high above his head. The movement causes him to wince and hisses through his teeth in pain. The trek has been grueling for all of them, but especially for the dwarf in his heavy armour. Aragorn watches Gimli take his helmet off before he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. He picks up his skin of water and weighs it against his palm for a moment before daring to pour some of it into his cupped palm. This water he splashes on his face. The water’s no match for the deep set grime on his face, but it refreshens him for a moment.
Legolas is standing little further away from them, seemingly focused on observing the vast grass plains around them, but Aragorn can see him following Gimli from the corner of his eye.
“My friend, could I ask you to help me with my hair? I feel the plait is coming undone and there’s an ache in my shoulder that hinders my ability to reach it,” Gimli calls out to Legolas. He says it completely innocently and misses the way Legolas, who’s standing a few meters away from them, flinches.
Gimli’s words cause Aragorn to accidentally inhale smoke the wrong way. He starts coughing furiously while Legolas stares at Gimli, unable to say anything. Gimli can’t possibly know the significance of his request. Amongst the elves, hair is highly regarded and it signifies one's status. Touching someone’s hair is seen as a deeply intimate action, only reserved to those closest to you. Brushing and braiding each other’s hair is a common way for couples to strengthen the relationship and signify to others their romantic involvement with each other. The implication of his request has gone well over Gimli’s head but Aragorn, raised among the elves, knows that Gimli has just asked something very intimate from Legolas, without even realising it.
“Did I say something wrong?” Gimli looks puzzled and glances at the both of them. Aragorn has managed to stop coughing and is trying to regain his breath. He tries to give Gimli a discreet answer before Legolas might say or do something he might regret later. Legolas might make an excuse and leave their company for a moment or he could reject Gimli outright and explain to dwarf the inappropriateness of his words.
“No, no. I’ll…I’d be glad to help you,” Legolas finally manages to say and walks up to Gimli. His steps are almost careful as if Gimli would suddenly take back his words. Aragon can’t believe his eyes as Legolas sits behind Gimli and asks for a comb, which Gimli takes out from one of his pockets. Aragorn can see that Legolas is bright red from the face and his hands tremble when he starts to undo the plait that has become frayed and messy from hours spent under the sweltering helmet.
Gimli doesn’t seem to take notice of Legolas’ emotional turmoil and strikes up a friendly conversation. He wonders aloud whether they will reach Saruman’s uruks tomorrow and what they will do then. Rather than fall into despair, Gimli talks of how they will be reunited with the hobbits soon and the tongue lashing they will receive from him. Legolas’ shoulders relax and Aragon sees a gentle look appear on his face, accompanied by a smile. His hands work on Gimli’s hair, soothing out the tangled knots in it. Suddenly, Aragon is overcome with the same feeling he had in Lothlórien, like he is intruding on something he’s not supposed to see. He never had personally witnessed anyone combing and braiding each other’s hair like this, even as a child. He only remembered a few times when some elf from Elrond’s household had one day appeared with newly stylized braids on their hair. They were met with knowing looks that soon turned into congratulations.
After some minutes of silent work, Legolas exhales “there” and lets the plait fall from his hands, as if it was burning him.
“Your hands are a wonder, lad! I guess all that harp playing and shooting a bow are good for something. Legolas?” Gimli is surprised when Legolas, who has completed his task, stands up quickly and quietly disappears between the rocks and into the night. Aragorn hears him mumble something about taking the first watch of the night. Gimli is left sitting on the ground alone and he turns to Aragorn.
“What is his problem?” he asks and Aragorn realises his pipe has gone out when he was too focused to follow the conversation.
Then it falls to Aragorn to explain to Gimli the magnitude of what he has just asked Legolas to do. Afterwards, Gimli stays silent for a while, his brows furrowed and Aragorn is sure this will cause problems to rise again. Then Gimli’s eyes light up and to Aragorn’s surprise he asks him:
“But Legolas didn’t say no? He could have declined, but he said yes!”
Then he hurries the same way Legolas disappeared a few moments ago and whatever happened exactly between them remains a mystery to Aragorn. He wraps his cloak tighter around himself and goes to sleep, wanting nothing more to do with the odd dance that has begun to swirl around him.
**
A long, proper bath has rejuvenated Aragorn’s spirits. It’s been years, decades, since he spent time in Edoras but he finds things have remained more or less the same. Despite the harsh times, the people treat their guests kindly and the travelers have been offered food and drink as well as modest rooms.
During the hour he spent in the baths, Aragorn realised how long it had been since he had been alone. The only sound in the room had been the water dripping. Otherwise the silence had been almost deafening. Ever since he met with the hobbits in Bree all those months ago, he’s been sharing almost every waking moment with his companions. Sleeping and eating next to them. Conversing and singing with them. He had been ready for all the hardship and danger he’d anticipated to face on such a journey. What he hadn’t anticipated was the blooming friendship between Legolas and Gimli. Things have clearly escalated between the two of them lately, but they haven’t come forward with any sort of formal declaration of their intentions with each other. Every day they fight their chances and inch towards their goals, but in the short moments of rest, Aragorn has seen and heard his fair share of heads pressed together in private conversation and the two often forget Aragorn is not a common man and he too possesses heightened senses, especially his hearing.
Aragorn walks through the door of the chambers they’d been given for their stay and is met with a sight of his companions sitting together on a bed. Legolas is leaning over Gimli, who has Legolas’ hand between his own and is holding them in his lap. They look up at the sound of the door, but don’t spring apart like they did a few nights ago, when Aragorn suddenly sat up seemingly from deep slumber. Aragorn had looked at them with a stern glare before announcing he was going to check up on the horses that were moving anxiously right outside their camp. He hadn’t been back for a half an hour and when he did return, Legolas and Gimli had been seemingly fast asleep, lying very close to each other with Legolas’ hand reaching out for the dwarf.
Legolas’ eyes meet his, and Aragorn notices his lips are bright red and slightly swollen. He sighs and leans against a wooden column.
“My friends, you don’t need to hide from me. You might think yourselves subtle but it hasn’t worked at all. I am happy you have found something good during these dark times and my intention is not to deprive you of your joy. I only ask you that your sight is set on the future and our quest. I need you two by my side. Outside of that, I wish you nothing but happiness and good luck.”
His words are followed by a moment of heavy silence. Legolas shifts slightly, perhaps trying to pull away from Gimli, who holds him steady and clears his throat to speak. But it’s Legolas who speaks first:
“Your words soothe me. We didn’t intend to hide anything from you, only not to draw too much attention to ourselves amidst all the other turmoil. And we didn’t want to cause you unease because we know there is someone special you must miss very much.”
The allusion to Arwen stinged Aragorn’s heart but he had to admit his friends’ consideration of his feelings of loneliness was touching, if somewhat clumsy.
“Aye, but Legolas minces his words. This is also a very unlikely companionship to spring up. None of us could have foreseen these feelings to develop. Old familial grudges still linger in the backs of our minds and it makes us skittish to reveal how deep our emotions have begun to run,” Gimli raises Legolas’ hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles. Legolas uses his free hand to stroke the dwarf’s bearded cheek.
“Your hesitation is understandable, but you’re amongst friends. No one would look at you crossly if they knew,” Aragorn said fondly. And they will know, he added in his mind.
**
Legolas grunts as he tries to lift the dead orc lying on their stomach on top of at least four of their fallen comrades. The crude armour is heavy and after an intense night of fighting, even Legolas’ powers are starting to wane. Aragorn watches the elf struggle for a moment before he goes up and helps Legola flip the orc over. Together they heave the massive body on its back and pull him little away from the others. When it becomes clear that there isn’t anyone, dead or alive, trapped beneath the orcs, Legolas sighs in relief but immediately his gaze starts to wander on the silent battlefield.
“Legolas, you need to rest. I’m sure Gimli is safe somewhere. If he was dead we would have found him by now,” Aragorn tries to soothe his agitated friend and gestures at the piles and piles of the fallen soldiers as well as orcs around them. There hasn’t been a single trace of the dwarf.
“I simply can’t bear the thought that he’s somewhere here. That I might just carelessly step over his body. Perhaps he’s not even dead, but badly wounded and can’t dig himself up, suffocating slowly under a pile of corpses.”
“You’re exhausted and wounded yourself. Come and I’ll see to that gash on your shoulder,” Aragorn pulls him with him and together they leave the dead behind.
As Aragorn is rinsing off the blood and dirt from Legolas’ wound, they are reunited with Gandalf once more. The wizard also seems concerned to find one of the three missing but then tells them to hold on to hope. He knows the hardiness of dwarves and that they won’t succumb so easily.
Aragorn is relieved when Gandalf’s words come true. Together with some other survivors, Gimli emerges from the caves alive. His only visible injury is the bandage wrapped around his head. Blood is seeping through it, but the dwarf is in high spirits, immediately demanding to know Legolas’ score. Legolas’ shoulders drop and he rushes to him. Letting out a hearty laugh, Gimli catches him and lifts him up in the air. At first, Gimli doesn’t seem to realise that Legolas nearly thought him dead and tries to downplay his injury. He slaps away Legolas hands that fuss over his bandages. Then the look in Legolas’ eyes stops the dwarf in his tracks. They embrace in front of everyone, doubt that the two of them even realise anyone else is there aside from them.
Aragorn shares a knowing look with Gandalf, who has his typical secretive smile on his face and doesn’t seem at all surprised about Legolas and Gimli’s affection for each other. Aragorn almost asks him how long but decides it is unimportant. The wizard wouldn’t give a straight answer anyway. Gandalf motions for Aragorn to follow him, they need to go see Théoden king. Before they go, Aragorn calls out to his two companions that they should join them as soon as Legolas’ has tended to Gimli’s wounds.
The elf and the dwarf are left alone sitting on a partly crumbled wall. Their hands are entwined as Gimli recounts his experiences and the wonders he saw in the caves. It becomes the first step of their plans for the future together.