The old ways

It was dark outside and the city gates were closed, when two riders returned. Two men of Faramir’s troop and behind one sat the square form of a dwarf, who was muttering under his breath about the hard back of the horse.
After the rangers had dismounted and guided their horses to the stables, Gimli slowly entered the hall of the castle, clearly very much lost in thought.
His eyes were lit with an inner fire and an eager look had spread across his face. When he had reached the large common room, where fires were lit and people were sitting at the tables and on the large settees near the windows, Gimli marched directly over to the seneschal asking him for direction to the library and if he could have some rolls of parchment and a quill and ink.

Gimli declined the offer of the seneschal, who offered to fetch those items for the dwarf, explaining he needed the quiet of the secluded library to work.
Once there Gimli sat down in one of the heavy chairs at a large table, but not before putting a few large books on the seat, so he could work properly, without having difficulties to reach everything he needed.

He unrolled a large parchment and immediately started to sketch fine lines and symbols on the paper. The hours passed by and when he at long last looked up from the desk, the first pink rays of the dawning sun peaked over the horizon.

Carefully rolling up the parchment, Gimli shoved the chair away from the table and stifled a yawn. He was pleased with what he had accomplished during the night, but he dreaded what he had to do now.
But first things first. He wanted to check on Haldir and Legolas, hoping they would still be fast asleep. It was better if they weren’t around for the next few hours.
He tiptoed to the door that led to the elves room and carefully probed the handle. Damn, the door was locked. Then again, Gimli heard nothing coming from inside the room, so they must be still sleeping. Maybe he could get Merry to keep an eye on them.

Gimli quickly made his way to the door of Merry’s room and quietly entered. As usual, Merry was coiled up on the large bed, snoring softly a slight smile on his face. ‘No doubt dreaming of food’ Gimli chuckled to himself, as he reached for the Hobbit’s shoulder to awaken him.
With a yelp Merry sat up and stared blearily at the dwarf. It took him some moments to gather his wits about, before he could actually understand what the dwarf was asking of him.

“Merry, can you have an eye on Haldir and Legolas today. Try to keep them occupied for a while. Say until lunch time. Don’t let them come near me.”
“What?” Merry looked quizzical “Are you mad at them?”
“No! Of course not. I am just planning a surprise for them, and I don’t want them to spoil it. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise then would it?”
“Oh, yes. Sure. What do want to surprise them with?” Merry beamed at Gimli.
“Oh no, my little one. I am not going to tell you. Not yet anyway.” Gimli quickly added as he saw the disappointment in the Hobbit’s face.
“As soon as I have some things organised and going, I will tell you. I might even need your help with it.” Gimli reassured Merry.
The Hobbit nodded eagerly and hopped out of his bed, quickly dressing himself and leaving his room to stand guard at the door of Haldir’s and Legolas’ room.

Once Merry had stationed himself at the door to the elves chamber, he waited until Gimli was out of sight. His stomach was making the most upset noises and he was in need of a decent breakfast.
When the Hobbit was sure that he was alone in the long corridor he sprinted downstairs towards the large kitchens and nicked food here and there. Some bread, apples, honey, milk and pastries. Loaded like a mule, he moved quickly back to his original task and sat down in front of the door, munching his breakfast and determined not to let anybody out until the sun way up.

Once again, Gimli moved along the long corridors keeping a look out for the door that would be marked in a special way, announcing that a royal guest was being housed there.
At last the dwarf spotted the familiar marking on a large oak door. Drawing a deep and steadying breath, Gimli raised his hand and hesitantly knocked.
At first nothing happened and Gimli was about turn and leave when the door suddenly opened.
The long blond mane was hanging loosely about the handsome face as the King of Mirkwood regarded the dwarf with a questioning look that held a small portion of mistrust.
“You knocked?” Thranduil’s voice was a tone sharper than that of his son.
“Ahm, yes. Sorry to disturb you, your majesty. I .....” Gimli had to pull himself together “I need your help.” He swallowed hard and shoved his prise aside.
Thranduil’s eyebrows disappeared upwards. “My help? The son of Gloin is asking the King of Mirkwood for help. This is truly a day to remember. I will grant you my help. Let us meet in the great hall later on.”
Just as the blond elf was about to close door again, Gimli stooped him by holding onto the door. “Please, let us speak of it now. In your rooms if possible.”
“What?” Thranduil’s voice thundered. “How dare....”
“You misunderstood me, my Lord.” Gimli interrupted. “I want to ask for help in a matter concerning your son and I don’t want him to find out!”
Thranduil looked at Gimli with his steel blue eyes, obviously thinking about what the dwarf had just told him.
“What matter would that be?” The King inquired.
“A surprise ....” Gimli started, but was suddenly pulled into the King’s room by his sleeve.

Thranduil closed the door behind them and motioned over to a large and softly cushioned settee at the far wall.
“Wait there. I will be right back!” Thranduil vanished behind a screen, and all that was heard was the rustling of fabric for a while.
After some minutes Thranduil emerged from behind the screen again and shook his long hair over his shoulder as he seated himself in a large armchair opposite from Gimli.
As Gimli watched the King of Mirkwood move through the room, now dressed in long, flowing, dark green robes, it struck the dwarf how much Legolas and his father looked alike. The same softness of the hair, the same features and winning smile. Only Thranduil’s appearance was far more regal than that of his son. Legolas had kept a kind of youthful joy about him.

“Now, dwa....Gimli,” Thranduil quickly corrected himself “what did you want to talk about.” He graciously folded his hands in his lap and leaned back.
Quickly Gimli handed the King the still rolled up parchment and stood beside the large armchair.
Thranduil unrolled the paper and his eyes grew wide.
“My Lord, I found this ever so lovely spot of land yesterday in Ithilien. It is near a clear stream that springs from a small waterfall near a mountain cliff. It is surrounded by a small forest, but not too far off. And I thought that it wouldn’t be wise for Legolas to travel again too soon, and I presume that he wants to stay near to Aragorn and Arwen anyway, and so I thought.....”
“This is the most beautiful design I have seen in a long time Master dwarf.” Thranduil interrupted Gimli’s babbling.
Gimli’s mouth snapped closed as he stared at the King.
“Gimli, pull yourself a chair over here and tell me all about it. And what kind of help you need.”

Hours later Gimli and Thranduil emerged together from the royal guest quarters with a smile on their face. When they reached the great hall they separated and moved to different directions. Thranduil headed towards the library and Gimli out into the gardens, where he hoped he would find the elves.
Legolas and Haldir were enjoying the last warming rays of the autumn sun and were in deep conversation.
“Gimli!” Legolas cried out as he saw the dwarf. “Where were you yesterday. I was looking for you, missing your never ending muttering and grumbling, but you were no where to be seen.”
“I was out. Faramir’s men needed decent help. And so naturally, they asked me.” Gimli squared his shoulders.
Haldir suppressed a giggle and instead looked at Legolas again.
“If you won’t be needing me for today, I think I will retire for now. It was a rather hard day, yesterday.” Gimli turned, hiding a huge yawn.
“But I thought that dwarves never tire.” Legolas laughed.
“I tire because of two very demanding elves.!” Gimli muttered and vanished from sight.

The silver clear sound of the trumpets pulled everybody out of their current occupation. Heads flew up, eyes opened and smiles broadened across the faces of every man, woman, elf or halfling. Only Gimli did not hear it, for he was fast asleep in his chamber, needing rest badly after the last night.

People streamed together on the streets, looked out of opened windows and gathered before the castle.
Aragorn had tears in his eyes as he rode through the streets of Minas Tirith in the lead of his troops. He had lost several more good men on the way back to the city, because of the extension of their injuries or due to the poisoned blades of their foes. And as the silver trumpets called him home he remembered Boromir’s words.
All he wanted now was to get to his friends, soak in a long hot bath and forget about war, endurance and pain.

He had already spotted the makeshift tents and campsite of the Rivendell elves from afar. Tomorrow he would hold his beloved Arwen in his arms again and slowly, very slowly their world would return to its rightful peace and quiet again.
Aragorn still dreaded the crown of Gondor, but he knew it was not to be helped. He had chosen this path and now he would try and walk it with all the dignity he could muster. Hopefully his friends would stay by his side for a while longer and aid him in his never ending quest to bring Gondor back to its former glory.

When the endless line of riders and footmen finally reached the castle, Aragorn spotted the tousled head of Merry, the Hobbit sitting happily astride Haldir’s broad shoulders, the golden mane of his best friend Legolas, with Gimli at his side and much to his surprise the tall and regal match to Legolas’ looks, his father Thranduil wearing a rather seldom warm smile on his face.
Even though everybody of the army that Aragorn had lead home was tired and weary, they feasted and celebrated until late at night.
The four Hobbits were huddled in a corner, never leaving each other, Frodo telling Merry and Pippin over and over again what had occurred on Mount doom, he himself was seated between Legolas and Haldir wanting to hear all about their children and Gandalf who sat quietly with the King of Mirkwood enjoying some pipeweed while Thranduil managed to drink vast amounts of wine never seeming anything but graceful.


The castle stayed very quiet the next morning, everybody was lying still in their beds by midday.
After a rather late lunch, the servants busied themselves with cleaning the great hall, expecting the next celebration coming upon them very soon. The guards from the watchtower had already announced a large troop of elves coming towards the city. Elrond and his entourage were coming and with them the new Queen of Gondor.

Aragorn was beside himself with glee and Legolas who was helping to get Aragorn into a clean, shaven and groomed state was in fits of laughter long before he was finished.
It was impossible to get Aragorn’s hair into a decent look, so the Mirkwood elf simply braided them lightly and made sure that Aragorn’s clothes fitted.
He accompanied his friend downstairs and then moved over to his husband who stood waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs.
Both elves were looking forward to meet Arwen again. She was a good friend to both of them and they had spent much time together in their youths.

When Elrond and his fellow elves entered the castle everybody managed to stay calm except for one person. Dignity forgotten and not caring if anybody looked appalled, Arwen shouted Aragorn’s name on the top of her lungs and ran over to her future husband throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly.
As if it had been a sign a loud cheering erupted around the couple and the freshly arrived elves were pulled into tight hugs and embraces.

Nobody was entirely surprised that the future King and Queen excused themselves early that night and at around midnight only Thranduil, who was deeply in conversation with Elrond and Gimli, together with the Hobbits were still in the great hall.
t.b.c.