The old ways

Legolas let himself being lulled into a dream like state by the continuous steady sway of the horses movements underneath him. Gimli had laid his hands loosely onto the elf’s thighs, getting more and more used riding behind Legolas. From time to time the elf could hear the dwarf mutter something under his breath, it was mostly directed not at him but at the unborn child he was carrying. Legolas smiled faintly, it felt good to be cared for like this and Gimli never ceased to amaze him. Underneath that sturdy and rough outer shell lay a very soft and gentle heart.

It still unnerved him how tired he would get, and being dragged from bed early this morning did not help. Aragorn had been beside himself, after having looked into the Palantir and after receiving a mysterious message from Elrond, and telling the following troops that he was leading the way through the Path of the Dead.

Legolas had not understood the nervous murmur that had passed among the men and shook his head when even Gimli complained. Why were men and dwarfs afraid of the dead? It made no sense to him. So he listened to the sounds of the nature surrounding him as they rode on toward that so much feared path.

Suddenly Gimli shook his left thigh slightly and whispered "Legolas! Come on wake up. We don’t want the others to find you sleeping, do we?"

Legolas blinked and straightened his shoulders "No, we don’t"

Aragorn called for a halt. "The horses will go no further. We must lead them. Come now, dismount and let us carry on."

Legolas slid of his horse and helped Gimli down. "This is a cursed place." Muttered the dwarf and stared ahead at the wall of rock before them. He wished Gandalf was at his side, but the wizard had left them in the company of Pippin on their way to Edoras, and had turned directly to Gondor. Gimli sighed, a fine fellowship they were. Never together, but always apart. Even Merry, who's friendly chatter could have cheered him was not with them, for he had chosen to stay with Theoden at Edoras.

Aragorn went first into the dark path of doom and his men followed more driven by Aragorn’s power than by their own strength. Last came Legolas and Gimli and after the elf had softly sung to his horse to calm him he had gone into the black hole and Gimli was left alone outside. He stomped his foot and taking a deep breath forced himself to go too. As soon as the blackness had swallowed him, he felt an assuring hand taking his own and leading him to follow the large group.

"Do not fear my friend," Whispered Legolas in the dark "no harm shall come to you."


To Gimli the way through the darkness seemed endless. At times he would take hold of Legolas hand again, even though it shamed him deeply, but there were moments here in the deep and dark place that made his hair stand on his back. Legolas never said anything, only held the dwarf's hand tightly giving him a reassuring hold.

He didn’t understand this concept of fear towards the dead. What possible harm lay in them. They were dead. Sure, he felt their presence and for a short moment his old self came back as he teased the dwarf telling him about the dead warriors following them, and he asked if Gimli could already feel their foul breath at his neck. Gimli shuddered and hurried his steps somewhat.

It was a long and tiresome way and after a while the elf let his thoughts wander off on their own. Gimli noticed the more relaxed walk of the elf and with his dwarvish sight he could clearly see that the elf’s eyes had taken a vacant expression. It never ceased to amaze the dwarf that elves could walk and even run slowly, while having entered a sleep kind of state. Legolas had ensured him that this was normal and that this was an elven way of saving energy and allowing themselves to rest. So he just held onto the pale and slender hand and walked on.