DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters nor anything else to do with Tolkien's geniousness. Please don't sue cause what you'll get ain't worth it! ^v^

        The hidden sun had finally begun its dragging descent toward the western Misty Mountains. And as the dark cloud cover finally broke into torrential rain, the band of three worn travellers cast various hostile glances upwards.
        Aragorn sighed inwardly. Rain was the last thing they needed.
        This trip was intended to be a reunion of sorts. Though some things had gone amiss already, and in order to make their destination of Hobbiton in time, the small group would be pushing themselves hard.
        During the night, two days West of Mirkwood, a group of bandits had attacked their camp and stolen necessary possessions.
        Needless to say or even explain, Gimli had carelessly fallen asleep on watch. And imparting on an act born of quick reflex, fast even for an elf, Legolas had managed to chase the vagabonds down, and punish them.
        Although the damage had already been done.
        It seemed the group had only been seeking to vandalise the camp, and not steal from it. And in this random act, almost one week’s valuable food had been stolen, and Legolas' pack had been completely ruined in the flight across the fields.
        As well as food, and most probably as important to some, Gimli’s battle axe had been severely damaged. Should they need his skills in battle, another weapon would be required for the job.
        Luckily no such needy occasion had come along, and for that Aragorn was grateful. For the stocky dwarf was handy in a conflict, and if Gimli were to fall ill or wounded to insufficient weaponry, he was sure the bearded dwarf would never cease to hear the end of it from Legolas.
        Little time seemed to pass before the weather again increased its density, and moods remained sour.
        Aragorn overheard Gimli voice another vile oath as the rain seemed to thicken, and deafening thunderclaps boomed from overhead. They were not going to make it much further on this eve.
        The ranger stopped, and turned, catching both Gimli's and Legolas' curious expressions. Though it were probable that they knew what he were going to say.
        "I fear travelling in such conditions is not wise when our supplies are so short. And if we were to exhaust ourselves when not necessary would be nought but foolishness. What do you think friends, a little farther to the river on this nigh perhaps and then we shall set up camp?"
        Legolas was the first to speak. "But is it also wise to camp so near to a dangerous ford in this weather? I am sure that this downpour has risen the ford, and flooded it at least some." The Prince looked around anxiously, frowning as he took in his companions soaked and quite miserable expressions. "Though even I am to admit that this weather does nothing but dampen my soul. Some shelter would be nice, and I know many fine groves just beyond the rivers reach that offer such comfort."
        The portly dwarf considered this, and nodded briefly before speaking.
        "Good does this sound," spoke the dwarf approvingly. "Shall we set off? For my heart and body are longing for a warm fire, and the longer we tarry, the more I shall grumble."
        It was no more than an hour until the group came to reach one of the locations that Legolas had mentioned.
        Rain had seeped through a few branches, though the majority of the land around was dry. This at least was a comfort.
        Setting their packs down, Gimli and Aragorn rubbed stiff shoulders and laid out their miscellaneous gear.
        Looking around, Gimli spotted a small pile of wood.
        Though the little good it will probably do, Gimli complained. It looks like it has been sitting here uncovered for a long while, and it seems to be damp.
        He made his way over to the stack.
        Sure enough, though much to the dwarf's great disappointment, the ground and everything within a certain vicinity was soaked beyond use. Cursing, the dwarf made his way back to his pack, where Aragorn kneeled making a fire hearth.
        With his mood soured from the delayed and deprived warmth his body so desperately needed, Gimli couldn't help but snap irritably at the Ranger.
        "What good will that do if there is no dry wood to keep the fire alight, oh wise leader?"
        Aragorn directed the dwarf a look of fierce chagrin before speaking. "You would do well not to reprimand me again Master dwarf, for I do not control the weather. Do not say such senseless things. And if warmth is what you so direly crave, then go search for some wood to feed its hunger. For it seems you have nothing better to do but blame others for your discomfort."
        "Fine then, so it shall be," the grizzly dwarfed muttered.
        But before he could so much as turn toward the outlying forest beyond, a light arm on his shoulder stopped him before he even began. Turning to face who could surely only be the fair elf, Gimli looked up without surprise to see he was correct.
        "I shall go," said Legolas quietly. "As it is I who knoweth this forest the best. A great place do I know of which to collect dry wood. A place which others would surely be searching for all night. Calm yourself friend, I shall not be long."
        And so the Elven Prince picked up Gimli's knapsack, for his own was too damaged for use. And then with a smile, he then set quietly off.
        Gimli moved toward the would be fire. Ashamedly forming an apology for the Ranger he had so unwittedly snapped at the moment before.

        Legolas landed softly on the ground and straightened, all with one fluid movement, barely making a sound.
        'Tis funny on this nigh though. As even a heavy dwarf could fall from such a height and make no such sound at all, for this booming racket is so thunderous.
        Legolas laughed silently to himself
        Looking around, the Elven Prince was certain this was where the wood had last been. Though the more he looked, the more it eluded him. Could it have all been used up in so little a time? It had been no more than a week since he had passed through this area last, and very few people used this path during the winter other than him and his brothers, for it could be dangerous to those who were unknowing of the ways of the forest.
        Seems like I shall have to go somewhere else for firewood. Though if I tarry too long in looking, I shall probably become trapped from the others.
        Pulling himself effortlessly back up among the trees, he scouted along, looking for other possible sites where wood could possibly be.
        And at that time he saw it.
        About two feet from the edge of the now deep and roaring river, and not five feet from a natural and dangerous dam, lay a decently large pile of what credibly looked like dry wood.
        Making his way carefully down from the high branches of the trees, pack on his back, the elf began to manoeuvre himself down the slippery shingled, and muddied bank.
        The going was slow, and every now and then the elf would cast a wary look toward the bulging dike, which had begun to pulse vigorously. And with each growing moment, more and more torrenting water spilled out from between the entwined debris.
        Time was of the essence and the danger increasing. For if the dam were to break its hold while Legolas was still this close to the bank, he would surely be dragged under, and swept away with current.
        Hastening his pace, Legolas gathered wood by the armful, throwing it carelessly into the now weighty sack slung across his back.
        When the barrier broke, so quick was it, that it nearly caught him in mid armful. Acting hastily, the young prince immediately dropped the pile he currently held, and dove haphazardly in a gigantic leap for a nearly branch.
        He caught it easily, and dragged himself up to perch upon its solace.
        Not long did this comfort last though. For as strong as the branch may have once been, the tree was now old and brittle. And in his desperate attempt to avoid his drowning, he had perhaps in his haste picked the worst possible branch to land on, for light though an elf is, his pack was heavy enough.
        So, to his immense horror, the branch snapped with a loud creaking groan. And down both went, tumbling perilously toward the flooding body of water below.
        And the last thing that passed through the young elf's mind, as he and his pack plunged into the deep icy depths below, was that should the others find his trail, they would hopefully find the wood. And at least they would be warm.