PART I: On Reminiscences and Embarrassment

"The truth be told," spoke his deep, earthy voice, hushed almost to a
whisper, "though the constant singing of the elves be at times a din to my
ears, the lovely melodies of Master Legolas are both a sweet balm to my soul
and a healing power to my heart." Gimli, Gloin's son, scowled, narrowing his
eyes to slits and grimacing horribly. He glowered, nearing the other two.
"But if you should ever so much as think on repeating those words, Masters
Pippin and Merry, I will make sure to shorten the length of your waggling
tongues with my blade!"
"Well now," laughed Pippin, a bit under his breath at he brought his own face
to bear with the swarthy dwarf's, "I had me a mind to name my upcomin' son
Gimli in honor of you, good sir Dwarf, but now I think I'll name him
something less angry, like Faramir or Boromir."  He winked slyly at his best
friend, who was sitting beside him on a large log long since bereft of any
greenery or life-blood.  Merry in turn pushed his arm, playfully reminiscent
of their long-enduring friendship.
"And what do you believe your Diamond will have to say to that, Master
Peregrin?" spoke Merry aloud, noting the dwarf roll his eyes in resignation.
It seems that even the slightest thing could be drawn out into another
hobbit-like long-winded conversation.  Perhaps, though, such a tangent might
not be too bad, considering Gimli had just let loose a bit of sensitivity
that his kind were loathe to part with.
"Well, I'm the man of the family!" asserted Pippin, bringing his fist to his
chest proudly, puffing out his chest and stretching himself upward.  "And I
say it'll be a boy we're having, and his name is Faramir!  After the good
Steward of Gondor no less!" He relaxed on the log bench, his proud face aglow
from the rich firelight.  "And a good lad he'll be, too, mind you now Merry,
for he'll be a Took, and no silly Brandybuck indeed!"
"Good meaning what exactly now?" inquired the other hobbit, screwing his face
into a knot and glaring at his companion. "You'll remember now, 'twas me
always that did the thinking whenever we'd bring it upon ourselves to do
anything worth doin'!  Why, you'll have to pardon him, Mr. Gimli, because
Took's aren't exactly known for being instigators of nothin'!"
"And most of them things we done got us into good bits of trouble, too,"
added Pippin, winking and smiling.  "You'll have to overlook his words a bit,
my friend Gimil," mocked Pippin, nearly choking on his mirth.
"And you two will never be anything more than silly boys to me," harrumphed
Gimli, gruffly rising from the log.  He leaned over to look them both in the
eye, shaking his finger in their faces.  "Not one word, now, my fine
Hobbits!"  He grasped his axe handle threateningly, and let it go.
"About what, Sir?" questioned Pippin innocuously, raising his gaze to
Gimli's.  "The singing you mean?  Legolas…"  Merry's hand speedily clamped
over Pippin's mouth as Gimli's eyes enlarged twice their normal size, the
intensity of the rage he was successfully hiding behind them somewhat
revealed.  At his ominous look and the low growl that escaped his lips,
Pippin realized his folly, and closed his eyes, smiling again.  No fear was
in him of Gimli's wrath, for he knew the dwarf regarded him as close as kin,
and would be loathe to bring hurt to him. He looked upon their host and
raised a hand in friendship.  Gimli took it roughly, gave it a squeeze, and
threw it off.
"A dwarf will learn to make mistakes at great cost in the presence of
Hobbits!" he groused, stalking off into the great trees that surrounded them
on all sides.  He grumbled to himself in dwarvish, a comical sight indeed for
the two chuckling friends he left behind.
Legolas, standing only a few feet behind them, ended his soft singing and
joined Merry and Pippin on the log, sitting between them.  He placed his arms
on their shoulders and spoke clearly in his dulcet voice. "Elves are not just
renowned for our prowess in endurance and the arts," he explained, knowing
full well that they already knew what he was about to say. "We have excellent
hearing to compliment our fine senses, and my honor and humility are greatly
complimented from it."  He allowed a wan smile to cross his lips, and lowered
his eyes.  He pulled the two of them closer to him in the greatest effort of
affection his kind would allow for dear friends.  Pippin reached up and
grasped the Elf's hand, giving it a small squeeze.
"Our friends are gone over the waves," spoke Pippin in a voice surprisingly
filled with insight and wisdom.  "Of our fellowship, we four are the only
ones here.  Sam and Aragorn have responsibilities that cover whole peoples.
Soon I'll have a family, and Merry's already got people clamoring for him to
be Master of Buckland.  Gandalf, Frodo…" he choked, a lump of sorrow caught
in his throat.
"True, my friend," Legolas whispered, shaking his head sadly.  His long pale
locks fell over his shoulders, shimmering in the firelight.  He looked first
at Pippin, who hung his head in grief, then at Merry, who shared his friend's
sadness.  Legolas acknowledged the loss they all suffered, but as was his
wont, he focused on the positive aspects that had also graced their lives of
late.  He looked about the camp, assured by the noises Gimli was making as he
traipsed about the wood gathering fallen branches to keep the fire fed.  He
gazed longingly in appreciation of the ancient trees, smiling as he admired
the age and wisdom of the heavy boughs.  "We have friends yet," he spoke in a
sigh, nodding his head toward the north, deep into the forest.  "Old
Treebeard himself is especially fond of both of you; I daresay more so than
Gimli and I.  But beyond that, you two have each other, and your families
beyond.  Gimli and I are sworn to travel our days together, in defiance of
all the biases of our peoples.  Indeed, never before have such friendships as
ours overcome so great a power in defiance of them. You two have families to
return to, and responsibilities.  The fellowship will always exist as it had,
in our hearts and minds." He gazed wistfully at the trees about them,
breathing in the heavy air and exulting in it.  He removed his hands from
their shoulders, and they immediately felt the loss of the warmth his touch
brought. Legolas arose, stepping away from the fire and the log.  He stopped
at the foot of a great tree, its bark gray with mosses and lichen.  Leaning
against it, he folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes.  "Stay
the night with us, and go home to your families tomorrow.  I would have the
honor and kindness of your company for one more day, if you would be so
kind."
"Aye, and you'll get a breakfast better than Samwise Gamgee himself could
make you," agreed Pippin, wiping away a tear from his cheek.  He fumbled
around his pack, pulling out a blanked that his wife Diamond had made for
him, knowing his pleasure in traveling.  He lay it over the pine needles that
they had cleared away from the fire.  A merry crunching sound came from the
needles as he lay himself upon the blanket, cradling his head in his arms.
Above them in the leafy canopy stars twinkled through, cheering his heart as
he dreamed of times gone by. "But I'm not going to sleep now," he added,
propping himself up on his elbows.  "A week with you miscreants is not
enough.  I'm going to take as much of your time this last night as I can!"
"Same here," added Merry, snapping out of his reverie. "It's a long journey
to get to this place, and I do intend on making it again as many times as my
place in life'll let me, but the times we spend with you two are more
important to me than a bunch of old trees and the Hooom hooom hooming of a
forest king.  Don't take no offense at that," he added, nodding at the trees
about them.  Gimli returned as he spoke, carrying an armful of branches to
feed the fire.
"Offense at what?" he growled, grinding his teeth.  His face flushed hotly,
turning his swarthy skin a bright beet red as he glared at his friends.  He
looked at Legolas, who smiled back at him mirthfully, bowing his head and
closing his eyes.  Gimli looked first at Merry and then Pippin, then back to
Legolas.  Before Merry could speak again, the dwarf cried out in anger,
roaring viciously.  "Give me my axe!  A dwarf demands his axe, and Gimli
Gloin's son shall have his revenge upon the treason of his so-called
friends!"  He accentuated the last word, derisively sneering as he spoke it.
He threw the branches on the ground at Merry's back, and dashed for his
saddlebags, upon which leaned his axe.  Hefting it up, he swung it around
skillfully, creating quite a spectacle for himself.  "I tell you, Sir Elf,
these Hobbits have looser holds on the truth than on their tongues!  What
these fools may have spoken about Elf-songs I deny completely.  Take no heed
of their misleading words!"
"Ah…. eh… I shouldn't… if you get my meaning… swing such an implement
around in the home of, eh… the trees and the eldest…" spoke a deep resonant
voice behind him.  Dropping the axe on the dirt at his feet, Gimli turned and
looked up at the Ent who had spoken.  Gulping, he pulled his chin to his
chest and muttered an apology to the party's host in the great forest.
Treebeard, for it was indeed the eldest of the free folk who had spoken,
smiled and patted Gimli on the shoulder.  "Hooom hoom hom…" he sighed,
ambling slowly closer to the group gathered around the campfire.  "Our
friends here were speaking of me, I should like to guess; although guessing
might seem a bit hasty.  And one might not want to be hasty when dealing with
an angry and embarrassed dwarf possessing an axe."  He scowled at Gimli's
weapon, which the dwarf hastily pushed away with his foot.  Treebeard's
arrival, as always, was unnoticed by any of them save Legolas, who knowingly
kept his awareness to himself.  The old ent turned his gaze upon Merry,
feigning sorrow. "But alas," he said, "this old forest king shall try not to
hooom hoooom hooooom in your presence, lest it bring again your scorn."
"You take my words and twist them awry," laughed Merry, walking up to the old
Ent and placing his hand in Treebeard's gigantic one.  "I meant no
disrespect, as I said.  Merely to offer comparison did I speak so."  He held
out his hands to indicate Legolas, Pippin, and Gimli.  "Dear friend, you know
I only meant to speak handsomely of these three honorable companions of mine,
despite their shortcomings."
"Ah, ahem… hoooom hooom…" spoke Treebeard, easily disregarding his assurance
made in jest.  "I am honored to be in the presence of the saviours of Middle
Earth, though not all be present.  Indeed, we have songs now that would last
one of your lifetimes that sing of your feats!" He smiled as he regarded the
four of the Fellowship.  "I come only in passing tonight, and shall not stay,
for my presence is wanted in dear Isengard now.  There are trees and
shrubbery that I should like to visit again, and I have truly come to love
that place, despite the anger of one who once dwelt there."  He noted the
disappointment in their eyes, and added, "though I should like to exact a
promise from each that you shall visit again as often as you might, for these
old eyes shall never tire of seeing your smiling faces… even you, good sir
Dwarf!"
"Indeed!" agreed Legolas readily, for he never grew tired of the Forest of
Fangorn.  "You honor us more than we should like to honor you.  I agree to
your promise, and speak for the rest of us when I do."  He looked at the
others, and despite Gimli's surly scowl, he realized that they all indeed had
grown closely in friendship and admiration for Treebeard.
"Good… good…" he smiled, already walking away from the four companions.
"Take care not to let any sparks catch on those needles," he added, "or I
shall know from whence they came!"
Legolas bowed low in deference of the eldest, but Pippin sprang up and gave
him short chase.  "Here now! Hey!  You'll not go until I give you leave, I
say!" He stepped in front of Treebeard and wrapped his arms as far as he
could about the Ent's large form.  He held onto him for a moment, then
stepped back.  "There now," he said, smiling up at his friend.  "Now you can
go!"
Treebeard laughed gently as he sauntered off slowly into the forest, then
sang softly of the valor of the halflings.
Thus the companions spent the late hours in talk and fellowship, reminiscing
and hoping, sharing dreams and wishes.  And as Merry drifted off to sleep
finally beside his old friends, he noticed a tear in Pippin's eye, but also a
smile upon his lips.  Turning over, he smiled happy as Gimli was already
snoring softly in his sleep.  Legolas was lying on the ground behind him, his
hands beneath his head, smiling up at the sky glimpsed through the leafy
bower.  Closing his eyes, Merry drifted off into sleep, dreaming of happy
days.