Chapter Text
After days without proper rest or food, the Three Hunters finally find some respite from the rain in a small, mildly damp cave. With their stomachs grumbling and their growing disdain for the dry Elvish bread, Lembas, Gimli is struck with a seemingly magnificent idea.
Why not bless his companions with a traditional Dwarvish mushroom stew? With lots of meat and oozing fire, just as he liked it!
Therefore, the Dwarf went without a word and with his loud stomps out of the temporary shelter in search of his marvelous ingredients.
In another corner of the world—cave—, Aragorn sat with his back firmly against the wall, his fingers tracing over the moist map and mumbling under his breath.
Legolas sat near him, his breathing still and his eyes sealed shut, almost as if he were sleeping peacefully. Had it not been for the way his eyes moved in his sockets, one might believe so.
“Legolas,” Aragorn called out softly without looking away from the map. Legolas hummed. “Where has Gimli gone off to?”
Legolas peeked an eye open, only to squint in utter concentration when he could not locate the Dwarf. His brows furrowed, “He is not far from here, he appears to be hunting for something like a squirrel.”
“Thank you.”
The pair of them resumed their activities, letting a comfortable silence settle over them once more. Yet, it was interrupted after a short while by the harsh breathing and familiar clank of armor.
Gimli was back, not only with a handful of mushrooms but also with carrots and potatoes whilst dragging the limp body of a rabbit. How he was able to find such crops in so short a time was beyond their understanding.
Immediately, Legolas scrunched his nose up in a rare display of emotion. Subtly moving closer to Aragorn who was so engrossed in the map that he had yet to notice Gimli’s reappearance.
Gimli laughed at Legolas’ expression, though, under his breath, he mocked the Elves' sensitivity.
“Come master Elf, let me show you the true prowess of a Dwarf's cuisine,” Gimli spoke with a cheeky smile. For a moment, Legolas only looked on with revulsion before he stood up and made his way over to the Dwarf. His composure was regained, though slipping when his eyes raked over the deceased rabbit.
“What manner of food is this?” Legolas asked, peering down into Gimli’s collection of ingredients. The fire burned over them. Gimli merely chuckled, as if Legolas were an ill-informed child.
“These, lad…” Gimli began while holding up the rabbit and the colorful assortment of mushrooms, “are the delectable ingredients required for a proper Dwarf-stew. By the end of this, you would have wished you had met me sooner.”
Legolas huffed, almost laughing. “I sincerely doubt that. The vegetables appear as if they need more time in the soil and that destitute rabbit is as thin as a bone. Not only that, it smells foul.”
Gimli scoffed, lowering his gaze and putting his palms up. “Say what you will, you Elves are too prickly.”
If Legolas were any other being, he might have rolled his eyes but instead, a hardly visible line formed between his brows. “I am not fooling around as you fancy to do, those mushrooms could be poisonous. Lembas bread is adequate.”
“Aye, but why not indulge in some much-needed luxuries from that stale bread?” Gimli reasoned. Legolas gasped, he crossed his arms.
“I am merely trying to advise you as it seems you must require it with your childish stubbornness."
“Hmm, as if you were one to talk with all your boring, tasteless stories. Must I remind you of who fell out of a tree? A Dwarf certainly would not find themselves in such a ridiculous situation.”
“Oh, and must I remind you who was tumbling down hills like a mindless rock?”
“Gentlemen, that is quite enough,” Aragorn interjected, finally raising his eyes from the map. Both Legolas and Gimli turned to look at him whilst muttering over their breaths. “Can we not be at peace or shall we quarrel like a trio of geese?”
“If anything, I have been attempting to save our lives,” said Legolas.
“And I have been attempting to cleanse our palates from such bland food that would cause even a rat to go running to the hills,” Gimli retorted.
Aragorn hung his head low, stroking his forehead with his grimy fingers. He let out a long, cool sigh.
“Perhaps you should listen to Legolas, Gimli,” Aragorn said. “I do regard him to be more skilled in handling such matters.”
Legolas smirked at Gimli who only looked on with great contempt. But this was not over, a Dwarf never gives in, especially not to an Elf!