The old ways

With slow and deliberate strokes Gimli combed through the elf’s hair, leaving it shining and smooth. The waving strands now blended perfectly with the rest of his straight hair and gave it a romantic touch.

Gimli put the comb aside and gathered enough hair from the middle of Legolas skull to start the ceremonial braid warrior's braid down the middle of his hair.

Legolas had not moved a muscle while the dwarf went to work.

Cocking is head slightly and admiring his handiwork, Gimli fastened the end of the braid and moved over to the temples. Those braids took longer to finish, for his course fingers found it difficult to cope with the fine hair of the elf.

But after several attempts he was finished and he took Legolas face in his hands, looking directly into his shining blue eyes.

"Now, I hope you just wanted to brush your hair and would have braided it up again, didn’t you?"

Legolas looked back at the dwarf and the dwarf could see all the feelings and despair openly in those cerulean orbs.

"Talk to me Legolas. Please, don’t carry the burden all by yourself. We are here to help you. I know the grief is pulling you down, but try to withstand it. Now, what did you dream of."

The elf sighed and cast his eyes down. "I dreamt of him. We were on the battle ground. I don’t know where. There was a city wall and people fighting everywhere, Haldir was among them and when he saw me, he waved and came running towards me. He held me, kissed me and it was only us. Nothing could harm us. Nothing. I can still fell him. Fell him touching me, holding me. His presence is here with me, even though its faint. It’s like he was there to keep me going, to hold a contact to me and his child. A reassurance that he will always wait for me." Legolas voice was soft and barley audible.

"Rest a little more, my friend. Tomorrow Aragorn wants us to reach the harbour of Pelargir. It will be a long and tiresome journey indeed. I will wake you in the morning." With that Gimli pushed Legolas back down onto his bedroll and made sure the elf was comfortable. He did not know what the future might hold for them, but he was going to make sure that Legolas would come out of it alive.

The first rays of dawn were creeping up over the plains, when Aragorn and his company were already up and on their way to Pelargir. The twins and Aragorn were riding up front while Legolas and Gimli were the last of the large troop. The only things behind them were the following dead. Misty shadows, fluttering in the breeze, nearly transparent in the sunlight.

When they reached the harbour of Pelargir in the early evening, ships upon ships were gathered. The fleet of Umbar was mighty indeed. Fifty or more large vessels and countless small ones. Slaves at the oars, mostly Gondorian who had been taken captive.

As soon as Aragorn and his army came into the sight, many ships turned to flee, but had not the chance to reach the other shore. At Aragorn’s command the army of dead paid their deed and long after midnight the foe was destroyed, many fleeing on foot, but many were drowned.

After Isildur’s heir had released the dead from their vow, the captive were freed and many stayed to help their cause.

While Gimli and Legolas took rest at shore near the ships, Aragorn mustered all the people he could find. Many coming on their own, having heard the rumor of Isildur’s heir marching towards Minas Tirith.

At the first signs of the new day, all ships were boarded and the now freed Gondorians oared the ships upstream towards the main city.

Legolas stood at the railing, his face tilted upwards to watch the seagulls flying, calling out for him, awakening the call of the sea within his heart.

Had his heart had not been so heavy with grief, surly he would have taken up their call, but know he only stood there, hearing without listening.

Gimli was true to his word and had stayed by his side, never letting him out of his sight, steadying him whenever there was need.


In the early morning Theoden mustered the men that were to accompany him to Gondor. Merry was nervously waiting until he had finished and then approached the king. The Hobbit desperately wanted to go with them, knowing that Pippin was in Gondor and was afraid for his life. But Theoden told him off, not wanting any of his men to bear the additional weight and trouble. Merry scowled and left the great hall. Half a way up the stairs he met Haldir, who was on his way to the armoury.

"They wont let me come!" Merry told him solemnly.

Haldir looked at the Hobbit and crouched before him. " There are always possibilities, little one. Come to us this evening before we leave. Maybe you can wave us good-bye." He said with a twinkle in his eyes.