Title: Of Trees and Stone
Disclaimer: No own Tolkien.  Only use Tolkien’s sexy characters. 
Author: Hobbit-weed Stoner (can be reached at wessawoo@aol.com) 
Pairing: Legolas/Gimli
Rating: R/NC-17 

Of Trees and Stone

**Legolas, son of Thranduil, Elf-Prince of Mirkwood**

"Legolas and I wish for a closer view.  We alone here represent our 
kindreds.  We also will come behind." (Page 563, The Two Towers) 

I agreed with my Dwarf companion, and also a sense of realization crept 
upon my mind.  I hadn't thought of it really.  We two were probably the 
only of our kind now dwelling in the lands of Men.  In fact, not many of 
the eyes that surrounded us have ever beheld an Elf or a Dwarf.  When 
Gimli, Aragorn, Mithrandir and I had rode into Edoras for the first time, 
the look of curiosity and mistrust illuminated the peoples' faces.  They had 
never seen anything quite like us.  

I felt utterly alone at this point.  How long had it been since I last saw my 
people…last spoke in my own tongue freely?  Gimli must have felt what I 
felt…how could he not?  His people may not have been leaving the shores, 
but their numbers were fleeting.  I may have felt alone, but I was not the 
only one.

Now I sit, wishing I were back in the treetops of my homeland of 
Mirkwood, even if Orcs may have been closing upon our capital.  I would 
have given anything for that relatively quiet sense of home and peace.  
Lorien… Lorien was beautiful, but not my home.  

If I voiced these thoughts to my friend… I wondered how he would react?  
Would he laugh at me, saying something like, "Ah Legolas, but I thought 
you liked tramping about in the wilderness slaying Orcs?"  Or would he 
reply in an honest tone, revealing that he too, missed his home and his 
people?  I remember he marveled at the craftsmanship and so-called 
beauty when he was in Moria (even though I could not see it).  
Moria… Moria was beautiful to him, but not his home. 

I looked about me.  I saw Men and horses and campfires, not much else.  I 
had wandered from camp to try to search my surroundings… another day 
of riding or two and we would reach Helm's Deep.  Mithrandir said to me 
that the people of Rohan were awaiting for their King's return, and so we 
ride with them, deeper and deeper in the Kingdoms of Men, further and 
further away from the deep forests of my home.  Here there are hardly any 
trees; it was all grass-covered plains in Rohan, and the occasional 
mountain range.  

Again I wonder about Gimli.  Does he also feel a hole in his heart from 
being departed from the rock and caverns?  He was happy, if only for a 
moment, in the Glittering Caves of Hornburg, as was I when riding 
through Fangorn.  I began to search for my partner; my mind dwelling to 
the time he had worried me when we had been separated at the Battle of 
Helm's Deep…before that I had no idea how much I could torment myself 
for a mortal's health.  I wished for a long and healthy life for this Dwarf, 
more than anything, after I realized I could loose him. 

My eyes surveyed the many faces that stared at me with indifferent 
expressions, none of them belonged to Gimli.

** Gimli, son of Gloin, Dwarf of Erebor ** 

For days the Elf and I have been riding about on the back of a snorting 
beast, first into Fangorn, then to Edoras, then to Helm's Deep, then to 
Isengard, and now back to Helm's Deep.  It's humorous, if you think about 
it long enough.  Here I am, clutching the torso of an Elf from Mirkwood, 
the very place my father had been wrongfully imprisoned in, and this Elf I 
clutch also happens to be Prince of that very same place.  So you see, his 
Father imprisoned my own Father, and ever since I joined the Fellowship I 
have been forced to get along with his son. 

Although, it does indeed become even more humorous as the Elf and I 
have strangely become the best of friends.  However at first we fought and 
bickered, as we were raised with the stories of both our Fathers, each 
parent relating how the Dwarves/Elves either invaded and terrorized their 
land or how they had been wrongfully locked up in dungeons.  Because of 
those stories I had turned off all kind feelings towards the Elf, and never 
gave him a chance to prove those stories false. 

How times change.  Lothlorien changed my mind, fighting beside the Elf 
changed my mind, seeing the same look of wonder at the sight of 
Lothlorien that I had myself in Moria changed my mind.  It confirmed all 
those stories of back stabbing snobby Elves wrong, and finally I began to 
understand the Elf.  And from that point on, he was no longer "the Elf".  
He was Legolas, and he had my trust. 

What I think has separated the two races, Elf and Dwarf, was because of 
their loves.  Elves love nature and all things growing; the trees, the birds, 
the flowers, anything frail that can be killed.  Dwarves love all things that 
can be found deep within the Earth, changing large masses of glittering 
metal or lustrous stone into works of art, all things that can be sculpted by 
the hand.  But we are not different.  Just what we perceive to be beautiful 
is different, but really, if you stop and think for a moment, where do the 
trees grow from?  The Earth.  And how are caverns sculpted?  By running 
water. So basically what we hold high in our hearts all come from one 
thing, the Earth itself.  So are Elves and Dwarves really that different? 

Many wonder about the tongues of the Dwarves, and criticize them for 
their slow and grizzled speech.  If only they could hear inside our minds, 
then they would know that we are true poets, who if given the chance, 
could produce something that could compete with the songs of the Elves.  
But had I not met Legolas I probably would have never stopped to think 
about such things.  

Just my opinion, not that it means anything. 

**Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood** 

I'd had enough of searching for nothing, so I traveled back to the camp 
where my friends resided for the time being. I mostly wished to seek 
counsel with the Dwarf who has been imprinted on my mind for so long. I 
reached my destination and I watched Merry attempt to start a fire, while 
the boisterous Pippin aggravates his attempts. Gandalf, as usual, kept to 
himself in thought. I admire his calmness and posture, and wish I beheld 
the same qualities. True, I could hide any expression, feelings that others 
could not, but I too feel the same inside as anyone. I saw Aragorn 
sharpening his blade, and finally my eyes settle onto Gimli's back. I saw 
faint smoke rising from behind him and realized that he was smoking his 
pipe. He usually smoked when he was in great thought and I usually never 
bothered him. 

I retreated into a nearby tree, climbing briskly upon its limbs and laid my 
head back on the bark. It felt comforting to lie in the trees, and it felt like 
home. Like nothing in the world could disturb my peace of mind. I wanted 
to speak with someone, but I acted as if I never desired anything and went 
to rest. Soon we would have to ride again, and the thought sent an ache 
through my back. I know my kindred are known for their lack of sleep, in 
fact, we never slept and never dreamt. That does not mean we cannot rest, 
and I do admit I wished for the sensation.

My sensitive ears picked up footsteps drawn toward me at that time, and 
my eyes remained closed. Until I heard a firm but gentle voice call my 
name, "Legolas." I looked down at the person below and noticed Aragorn 
looking up. "Yes, Aragorn?" I replied and stood up straight and hung my 
legs down from the arm of the tree. 

"Legolas, you seem greatly fatigued," Aragorn says to me and I knitted my 
brow and closed my lips tightly. There was no way I could explain to this 
mortal how I felt. Actually, I did not know fully how I felt. Forcefully, I 
replied to his words and forced a false smile. 

"Trust me, I am fine Aragorn," I said. "I am a bit weary from our travels 
and decided to rest for a while," I lied. My eyes were heavy, and Aragorn 
somehow sensed my dread. He shook his head slowly, and looked behind 
him to see the two hobbits rejoice after they had started a spark of fire. He 
smiled and looked back up at me, and placed a hand on the body of the 
tree. 

"As you say, my friend, but there is something that troubles your mind. I 
know this, but I do believe you. I hope you find rest this hour," He said 
and moved away and joined the two hobbits. I watched him go, as he 
passed by Gimli and sat next to Merry. My eyes were once again upon 
Gimli. Something in my stomach told me these feelings toward him are 
sickly, churning my insides like a storm against the wind.    

The wind was cold, and they stung my cheeks. Strangely, I shivered and 
brought my arms across eachother to find warmth. Was it warmth I 
lacked? "You cold, master Elf?" My body shook slightly at those gruff 
words and realizes who owned them. I looked down and did see Gimli, 
looking over at my direction out of the corner of his eye, with his pipe to 
his lips. "I thought it impossible for Elves to feel cold," He smiled at me in 
an instant then looked back to where his eyes were before. 

"Thank you for your concern, Gimli," I returned. "May I ask what you are 
thinking about?" There, I had asked a question. Starting a conversation 
was my goal, and I was determined to keep it going for mine own sake.
 
"My thoughts stretch from one thing to another, Legolas," He said to me 
quickly and took a deep breath of his pipeweed. "None of which should I 
bother you therewith, you also appear to have much on your mind," He 
had already figured me out. Was I so obvious that night? 

"On the present trials we must face not too far ahead," I sighed. Gimli 
nodded toward me and bent his elbow onto his knee and stared out into the 
sky ahead that was detailed by the shadow of the trees beholding them.  

**Gimli, son of Gloin, Dwarf of Erebor**

So there I was, sitting at a campfire thinking to myself while smoking my 
pipe.  I always smoked whenever something was on my mind… a dead 
give away that I was pensive.  All around me was the bustle of the Hobbits 
fooling around, Aragorn grinding Anduril against a rock, and the Wizard 
Gandalf was silent all but for the occasional murmurs that would only 
make sense to himself.  I was musing to myself, so much had happened in 
so short a time; this was one of the more calm moments that I could have 
to myself.  

I heard the low voice of Aragorn address Legolas, who I had not been 
aware, came to the camp and had perched himself in a nearby tree.  He 
looked distressed, but I kept to myself like always and let him and 
Aragorn speak.  After an exchange of a few lines of courteous banter, I 
noticed Legolas had crossed his arms and was now rubbing them.  This 
struck me odd.  Something was wrong with my companion, and although I 
couldn't tell what it was exactly, I knew something was amiss.  I felt it in 
my bones.  

I asked him if he was feeling cold, and I saw his eyes searching for my 
own.  I pointed out that Elves could not feel the cold, and then turned my 
eyes back to where I had been looking, slipping back into my own 
thoughts.  Legolas looked tired, and I decided to leave him be… if were 
that the case.  Instead he asked me what was on my mind.  Was there a 
hint of desperation in his voice? 

I answered truthfully, for my mind was drifting back and forth between 
subjects, although at that very moment everything was focused on the 
normally stoic Elf.   He then expressed his concern for the trials ahead, 
and I turned my head once again to look forward.   Suddenly I stood and 
left the camp area, no one seeming to notice except for two blue eyes that 
pierced the back of my head.

I wasn't sure where I was going, but my pipe was still lit and so it meant I 
still had some thinking to do.  I finally had walked far enough away from 
camp so that all I saw were small flickers of light.  I sat on a nearby rock 
and watched the flickering, like seemingly small stars fallen to Earth.   

After all we had gone through together I could understand if Legolas was 
feeling unlike himself.  So was I, in fact.  Although I could only guess as 
to what was wrong with the Elf, as I was still unfamiliar with the culture 
of the Elves.  A voice suddenly whispered my name. 

"Gimli?"  It asked, and I turned quickly.  There was Legolas, but not the 
Legolas I knew.  He had followed me, his face was twisted with some 
undisclosed emotion, and he sat by me in a hurried manner.  "Gimli," he 
said again, "Are you homesick?" His eyes were cast towards the ground, 
which shocked me as normally his eyes were never away from the stars. 

I took a long puff from my pipe.  "Yes."  I told him.  "I am." 

"And what of family and friends?"  He inquired, lifting his eyes in order to 
gaze into my own.  Was Legolas having ill feelings for the quest, now that 
we were so far into it?  Never before has Legolas ever talked about 
Mirkwood or missing it, I thought he liked being out in the wild away 
from home. 

"Of course I miss them.  But I like being out here."  I said.  He looked at 
me questioningly.  "I like thinking that I am the only Dwarf in the land of 
Men, traveling as a representative of my kin.  It gives me a feeling of 
importance… something that I've never felt before." I explained.  My 
father had never been a great and important Lord of Dwarves, true he was 
one of the small company of Dwarves that settle back into Erebor, but had 
there been any council of Dwarves he was never usually invited.  
Therefore, I was never usually invited to make important decisions 
regarding my people. 

"As for me… I do miss my friends and family… although… although…." 
He trailed off.  Now I knew something was wrong.  An Elf at a loss for 
words!  He sighed and propped his arms on his raised knees.  "Aye, Gimli, 
I've never had to pray for anyone I've known to stay alive, and ever since 
I've gotten to know you that's all I've been doing!"  He cried out in 
exasperation.

In surprise, I dropped my pipe.  So that's what had been bothering 
Legolas.  He grabbed the smoldering pipe off of the ground and handed it 
to me.  I grabbed the pipe and his hand and when he went to pull away I 
tightened my grip, making his eyes grow wide.  "You have never had a 
mortal friend before, have you?"  I asked. 

"Never."  He replied, and I released his hand.  "This is new for me Gimli.  
Long have I dwelt in lands that knew no death, and here I am, thrown 
about in mortal lands with no one to cling to except for mortals.  It 
frightens me.  I am more frightened knowing that I could loose my friends 
to death than of a million Uruk-Hai."  He said truthfully.  He began to 
whisper a song to himself, something that had always given him great 
comfort.

"But you could die as well, Legolas my friend."  I reminded him. 

"Nay."  He replied, shaking his head.  "I fear not for my own life, I only 
fear for yours." 

**Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood**

As soon as the words slipped from my mouth I cowered.  Gimli and I both 
knew how we felt about eachother, there was a deep understanding love 
there of friendship and trust, and it was never to be spoken out loud.  
But… but was I hoping there was something else? I have had great love for 
many other friends, but nothing like what I felt for this Dwarf.  And he 
wasn't even an immortal.  Maybe this is what it feels like to love a mortal, 
with the constant fear of death looming around every corner and 
abandonment as soon as said mortal passes on.  

Death.  I do not understand the word.  Elves can die, this I know.  But 
their souls travel to the Halls of Mandos.  Where do the souls of the 
mortals go?  Just the thought of loosing Gimli forever makes me want to 
end my life as well!  

"I fear for your life as well, Legolas."  Gimli said calmly.  He had dropped 
his pipe to the ground and was staring at the lights of the camp.  They 
seemed to mesmerize him. "A true, caring friend is sometimes hard to 
find, my friend." He made that clear to me. 

"I know this all too well." I said softly and looked away to where he was 
watching, toward our group. He strayed back to me, and even though I 
knew he watched me I kept my eyes forthright. 

"Legolas?" He asked gently and I turned to him, and saw the weakness in 
his eyes betray him. Was their passion in his eyes or was it the now 
roaring fire that was not too far away from us? I had never seen such un-
interpreted emotion in those two eyes, some unknown fire of some sort. I 
never knew a Dwarf could look so gentle and caring. 

"Yes, Gimli?" I hesitated, but I kept the nervousness out of my voices 
way. Gimli placed his pipe down on his discarded cloak beside him and 
pursed his lips tightly, as if trying to find words. 

"Would you ever consider-? No, it's stupid to ask, but… I always wanted to 
ask you- what do you think of me?" He asked me. I blinked a few times 
then lifted my chin and I thought of an appropriate answer that wouldn't 
give away my thoughts. "You do not think of me as the Dwarf; slow, in 
the way, and just… the other?" 

"Of course not Gimli. You have always been crucial to our group. We 
have always needed you," I told him truthfully. "I do not think of you in 
the way, I have never and do not intend to start. Even if you could not 
always keep up with Aragorn and I you somehow always seem to stay 
right behind us. That is what counts above all." 

"Thank you, Legolas." He replied and a smile crept upon his lips and it 
gave me a reassuring feeling that settled in my troubled stomach. "You are 
so different than any other Elf I have ever known. True, being the fact that 
I know few, but I see it from actions and not appearance." He said. 

That remark made me smile, knowing now he thought of me as someone 
set aside as original, not being the same like all the rest. "I am glad you 
think of me as so." My smile turned into a grin, and I watched from afar 
the campsite where our friends where. Why was I so anxious and excited 
to be with Gimli? I had all the time in Middle Earth and maybe more, but 
my feelings were hurried and impatient. Negative or not, I dwelt on them 
and could not help myself. 

"Same." He replied. "When do you suppose we will have to ride again…to 
Isengard?" He asked me and it seemed I also thought of the matter. I 
looked down at him and smiled gently. 

"Sooner than desired, but if we think upon our next ride it will only come 
swifter." I said. Gimli nodded in agreement and I saw he was wording 
something but no words came. He was at a lost for words as I was. The 
slight fidgeting as we sat, and our tongues that were tied.  

"Legolas I-." He was going to say, but I had enough. My stomach pained, 
and my lips were quivering, and I brought my level down to his before he 
could reply. I did the last thing I could ever think I could do, I kissed this 
Dwarf… this Dwarf who stayed my mind and will forever be. 

**Gimli, son of Gloin, Dwarf of Erebor**

I didn’t close my eyes, how could I? I watched Legolas as he kissed my 
lips and closed his own eyes. I never thought the day when he would ever 
do such a thing to me. I deepened the kiss, and beyond the cover of my 
beard, heat rose in my cheeks. I stared into his perfect face and noticed his 
cheeks were afire also. 

He finally broke the kiss, after our tongues danced but for one moment 
and he sighed when he stared at the ground. His facial expression told me 
he was debating with himself if what he had done was right or wrong. 
Some fear behind his eyes told me all together too much.

"I am sorry Gimli, I didn’t mean to-." He started to say to me, but I cut 
him off, and pressed my finger to his soft and moist lips. Instead of 
speaking, I… I kissed him. Bringing my hand to rest against his soft cheek 
and pulling him close, and I know he found courage in his limbs to ruffle 
my hair. 

And now it is time for me to break the kiss. Something needed to be said, 
to break the eerie silence and I spoke first. "Legolas, did you mean that?" I 
asked him sincerely. Legolas breathed heavily and took a deep breath to 
speak but once again my mouth gave way. "For I meant it when I kissed 
you back, dear Elf." 

Legolas' eyes widened and he looked as if he would just collapse against 
me. "I meant it Gimli." He said firmly. My heart sipped a beat, and I loved 
how it felt to his skin caress my own. His hand never left my cheek, and I 
moved closer to kiss him again by he was faster and met my lips first. He 
whispered my name, and knelt on the ground on his knees to be at my 
level more comfortably. 

Everything that I had ever heard about Elves melted away in the kiss, my 
lips parted as his tongue invaded my mouth.  I was quite taken aback by 
Legolas' brazen actions, he seemed almost mad with passion and need, 
trying desperately to feel his skin against my own.  It was as if he had 
been waiting for this moment for a long time.  I smiled against the kiss as 
he began to remove my tunic.  His delicate Elf-hands were stumbling with 
the toggles, and he broke the kiss and huffed in a frustrated manner.

"Impatient Legolas?"  I murmured as he narrowed his eyes and finally 
began to figure the buttons out. 

"Damn Dwarfish craftsmen.  From now on you wear Elven tunics.  Then 
all I have to do is slip it over your head."  He growled in mock-anger.  He 
nipped at the skin on my chest and I couldn’t help but give a laugh. 

"The only time I've ever seen you this intent is when tracking Orcs."  I 
said, Legolas grinning.  He placed a light kiss on to my lips before 
declaring war on my remaining trousers and boots.

**Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood **

Never before had I wanted to feel myself against another so badly.  I loved 
Gimli; the mortal was under my skin now.  As my lips were brushing 
against his, I thought of nothing else.  I couldn't remember my life before 
the Dwarf, and couldn't picture living without him.  He made me feel as if 
nothing else mattered. 

I'll never forget the shock on his face when I had him underneath me sans 
clothing.  I laughed as I stroked his furry chest; it was beautiful, as was he.  
His rough body looked like he had spent most of his life digging 
underground, it was chiseled and reminded me of a carved mountain.  
"Elf," He said in a teasing voice, "are you going to keep me pinned down 
or shall I remove your clothing with my teeth?"

"That is not necessary my love." I breathed and I began to remove my 
emerald green tunic. I tossed it aside and Gimli leaned forward and took 
one of my nipples into his mouth. I hissed and leaned my head back as his 
tongue swirled around the sensitive bud but I didn't make a sound. He 
moved away for me to continue my discard of clothing. I finally reached 
down to my breeches when I moved them down and he grasped out and 
clamped his hand around my shaft.
 
I breathed roughly, and he began to knead my member until it was fully 
erect.  I growled and rubbed my knee against him, regaining my control 
over the Dwarf as he released a moan of pleasure.  I rubbed against him a 
few more times and then reached down to tease and torture him with my 
hand.  He threw his head back as I stroked him, and I must have muttered 
something that was going through my head to him because tried to regain 
his composure.  He looked up at me with his earth-colored eyes and 
hissed, "What did you say, dear Elf?” 

I tried my best to cover every inch of his body with my own, bringing our 
burning members together so that they rubbed against eachother.  "I said 
that you were lovely."  I groaned. Gimli sighed below me and kissed my 
lips once more. “I don’t want to hurt you Gimli.” 

“I know, Legolas.” Gimli said to me and rolled his eyes and I knew he felt 
somewhat awkward. “This is all I need.” He said. I kissed his moist lips 
again and moved down again. Leaving lines of where my tongue moved 
against, slowly I advanced down. Moving down his stomach and stopping 
at his midsection, earning a groan of pleasure from him. “Stop teasing me 
elf!” He growled highly. I persist with whatever I plan to do; I will not 
give into the Dwarf’s request all too soon. 

“Patience dear Gimli,” I laughed and without warning, he moved his waist 
up in reactions to my kisses and his member almost in my face. I grasped 
the base of his cock and flicked my tongue over the head, his body racked 
and twitched against mine. 

I was finally prepared to satisfy my dear Dwarf when a loud cry and the 
call of men was heard down in the camp. I moved quickly, regretfully 
away from Gimli and looked down completely naked toward the campsite. 
I noticed that many of the guards were rushing around the camp, as if 
looking for someone, and Gandalf was speaking to Theoden King and 
Aragorn. I felt Gimli press my cloak over my shoulders and rest his hands 
on my back and neck softly. “The moment is not on our favor Legolas. 
Maybe when all this is over, we might find time yet again.” He smiled 
towards me. 

I smiled tenderly, wishing there was nothing that brought us to this 
intrusion. “I suppose.”  I sadly turned away from the camp and stared in 
Gimli’s face. He looked just as displeased from the interruption. “I think it 
wise we returned to camp now.” Gimli nodded and he gathered his things 
and we both quickly dressed. After we got everything in order, as if 
nothing had happened, we started down the hill and made our way back 
toward the camp, but we stopped and looked at each other. 

There was no confusion in the Dwarf’s eyes; reflected in them was the 
very same emotion I felt.  While I was indeed sorry that our night had 
been interrupted, both he and I understood that this should not be our last 
night.  He would survive, like he had done every time we ever faced an 
obstacle, he would survive because if he did not then neither could I.  
Through every battle we will come out victorious, I know that the Valar 
would hear my prayers and keep him safe. 

**Gimli, son of Gloin, Dwarf of Erebor**

We made the rather long walk back down to camp and acted as we always 
had done, although there was a new light shining in Legolas’ eyes that 
seemed to issue a challenge to the very stars above which he admired so.  
Legolas and I must have been away from camp for a while, for most of the 
men had been asleep and the fires had gone out. 

We made our way to Aragorn, who had been speaking to Theoden about 
something.  “What is it Aragorn?” Asked Legolas.  Aragorn turned to face 
him and nodded. 

“It is good you are here.  I am afraid Master Peregrin has looked into 
Palantir, and just now Gandalf has left to take him to Minas Tirith to seek 
council with Denethor II, ruling Steward of Gondor.”  Aragorn informed 
us. 

“And how is the Hobbit?”  I asked, concerned for the safety of the young 
one. 

“A bit shaken up, but not harmed.  Seemed he was drawn towards the 
Palantir after his first encounter with the seeing stone.” Aragorn replied, 
and I sighed with relief. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” Aragorn then said, “I must attend to a few things.”  
He and Theoden pardoned themselves to other matters, leaving Legolas 
and I by ourselves. 

“Well,” Legolas muttered, “we’d best be getting ready.  I’d expect that 
we’ll be heading out once again soon enough.”  He said, heading towards 
the blasted horses once again.  I groaned and followed the Elf. 

“Not again.” I said, following his footsteps.  “You know,” I remarked, 
trotting along side Legolas in order to keep up, “we’re not all that 
different.”  I told him, deciding that I might as tell him what I had been 
thinking of as I had been sitting by the fire. 

“Really now.” Legolas said with a humoring smile on his lips.  He picked 
up a set of reins and began to hitch up the horse.  

“As a matter of fact, yes.”  I retorted, sitting down on a nearby patch of 
grass.  I pulled out my hand axes and began to sharpen and inspect them.  
The sun was just beginning to rise, the campfires were now just 
smoldering bits of earth, and nobody was lingering in their bedrolls.  “I 
mean, of course there are differences between us, but in the end, it all 
comes down to trees and stone.” 

Legolas stopped checking the horse and turned to me.  A smile slowly rose 
to his lips, and then spread out through his face.  “I must say, Gimli, that I 
agree.” 

The End