Hello! I wrote this some time ago, when my friend was kind of in a rut and everything was very confusing. She loves Gigolas, so I wrote this in her honor. Personally, I love them as bros, but she is my friend and friends write fanfictions for each other of their favorite ships and so here we are.

This fic was also written in response to the LGBT FANS DESERVE BETTER video that I watched on Youtube. I didn't know any of the fandoms in the video, but it was so touching, and so SO sad, and I agree. Queer people deserve better, not only in real life, but in the realm of fantasy as well. To all you Queer People out there, this is for you. I hope you all find your happy endings. *hugs*

The song that inspired me to write this is Saturn by Sleeping At Last. These guys do a lot of covers, but they also do a lot of beautiful music themselves with absolute lovely instrumentals. I suggest you check them out!

Originally, this fic included the lyrics of the song, but it has been brought to my attention that putting lyrics from music into a fanfiction breaks the Content Guideline. I've taken them out now, and although I feel it takes a little something away from the story, I also feel that I need to follow the rules because this site is far too awesome to be subjected to copyright issues. To anyone this disappoints, Ima sorry for your sadness. I hope you can enjoy the story either way...

And finally:

I am not fond of writing romance. I can admit it is adorable when couples do cute things together, and I am totally cool with gay and lesbian and straight and bisexual and asexual and all of that, I just find kissing... gross. I'm pretty much an eight year old when it comes to romance. I am the person who covers her eyes when people kiss in a movie, doesn't matter if its animated or not. That's why literally nothing happens except hand holding and little fluffiness. I am sorry to all you people who wanted more than that, I just find the super romancy stuff icky... *bows head in shame and apology*

I hope everyone enjoys! :D

...

Gimli grumbled as he stepped onto the metro, his anger bubbling in his stomach as he went over the events of his day, again.

It was supposed to have been a good day, and he had honestly been excited for it. It was the day he would finally accomplish his dream. The day he would finally get his music out into the world.

He had even woken up early- Early! He never woke up early!- in order to take a shower and trim his beard. He had taken such meticulous care in his appearance and had shown up right on time for his appointment.

An appointment that was delayed.

By. Eight. Hours

At first, he was patient, understanding even! This was a world-wide known records company, after all, there was bound to be hold-ups and complications. He wouldn't fault anyone for something beyond their control.

But then the time dragged on, and the excuses just kept getting more and more ridiculous, and his patience began to wane. By the sixth hour, he became suspicious that they were trying to drive him off with boredom, but he stayed either way.

Gimli was a Durinson, and Durisons were nothing if not stubborn.

Eventually- finally- they sent him up. His frustration ebbed as his excitement took over, and he eagerly showed off his music to the record producers. They had listened to the songs several times, occasionally nodding and asking questions, and then they had asked him to leave the room while they discussed.

And so he had left, his anticipation and exhilaration rising in a soaring crescendo. Because it was the moment, the moment where everything he worked for, all the months of hard work and endless phone calls would finally pay off. The moment where his life would finally have meaning and importance. The moment where all his dreams would become reality at last.

And they had opened the door, their faces the picture cheerful and bright, and looked at him. And he had sat up straighter, hope flaring in his chest in a brilliant display of fireworks, and asked for the verdict. And then…

And then they had denied him the records deal.

They had explained how the music lacked the proper "Zeal", about how it lacked proper focus. About how it didn't have enough energy and vibrancy to appeal to an audience. About how "it just wasn't what they were looking for."

And then they had shown him out the door, leaving his dreams shattered like broken glass and his hope nothing more than a forgotten concept.

And that was how he found himself stepping onto the metro at three o'clock in the bloody morning, nothing to his name but disappointment, defeat, and a whole lot of anger.

Gimli slumped heavily onto the hard plastic seat, throwing his worn backpack onto the chair next to him. The indecipherable voice of a woman sounded through the speakers, then the customary "Mind the gap," and then the train was moving down the tracks, metal screeching loudly in protest as it did.

It was only then that he realized that he wasn't alone.

The man was young, probably around Gimli's own age, and had long blond that was thrown over his shoulder. The dark green hoodie he wore fit snugly to his slim frame, and he absent-mindedly gnawed on one of its draw-strings as he read his book.*

He sat cross-legged on the chair- his legs pulled up impossibly tight to his body- as if it was the most natural thing to do in the world. Despite the late hour, the man seemed not the least bit tired- he appeared wide awake, in fact- and his fingers drummed a silent rhythm on his knee.

Gimli stared.

The blonde did not seem to notice his presence, despite the loud entrance he had made, and continued to read on. Gimli wondered why the stranger was on the train at three in the morning and why he seemed so oblivious to his surroundings. He also wondered if he should try an start a conversation, or if he should just leave him in peace.

For a moment he stilled in hesitance, but then he thought on what he would without interrupting the blonde. It was going to be a long ride- at least a couple of hours- and all he really had for entertainment was his old MP3 player. Listening to music was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment. Sitting in silence with only his thoughts for company didn't sound much better.

And so he decided to try and talk to the blonde.

Unsure on how to gain the other's attention, he settled for an awkward clearing of the throat, which sounded painfully loud in the silence.

The man paid no attention, he simply let out a quiet humming noise as he turned to a new page of his book.

Frowning, Gimli tried again, this time clearing his throat a little louder.

Still no response.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

Letting out an annoyed huff of breath, Gimli stood and stomped over to the blonde and sat down next to him. His patience was already near-nothing to begin with, and to be blatantly ignored set his anger to new heights.

Non-to-gently, he tapped the stranger on the shoulder. **

The blonde jumped in surprise, his blue eyes snapping to the red head in a breath of an instant. Gimli immediately scooted back, raising his hands in what he hoped to be a peaceful gesture.

The stranger blinked- once, twice, three times- before blushing and putting down his book on the chair next to him. Then he reached to his ear and pulled out an earphone, smiling slightly hesitantly towards the redhead as he did so.

Gimli felt like an idiot. The blonde wasn't purposely ignoring him at all, he just couldn't hear him through his music. And there he was getting angry at him and startling him and being incredibly rude.

Trying to amend his mistake, he flashed his own apologetic smile.

"Sorry 'bout that, didn't mean to startle ya."

"W-what? Oh, uh, that… No, it's- it's fine. Don't worry about it."

Gimli resisted the urge to raise and eyebrow, for the blonde was hugging himself now and his feet were shifting with nervous energy. He looked even more awkward and shy than Gimli felt, and the ginger could not help but feel bad for his part in the other's anxiety.

"Either way, 'm sorry 'bout it."

The stranger flushed once more, his fingers worrying the frayed patches of his jeans and his eyes refusing to make contact with Gimli's own.

"O-oh. Um, thank you. Do- Do you want something?"

He floundered for a moment, for he had wanted a conversation but now he didn't know what he wanted to talk about. He grabbed for any idea that could be plausible, and when one finally struck him he spoke it with no hesitation.

"Oh. I was just wondering what your book was 'bout, that's all…"

The blonde stayed silent, his eyes wide and startled and his muscles tense, like prey preparing to leap away from a stalking predator. Upon seeing that no answer would be given without prompting, Gimli nudged the other slightly.

"If you'd rather not, that's all good. I'll just be on my way."

The stranger broke out of his statue impersonation, and haltingly shook his head in a negative.

"Ah, no. I-it's fine."

Carefully, the blonde grabbed the book and held it out to Gimli, another small, tentative smile on his lips.

His hands were shaking.

Gimli took the book from the trembling fingers, and looked down at the cover. It was of a sky filled with stars, and it appeared to be one of those strange philosophy books, and he could not help but mentally sigh.

What had he gotten himself in to?

"It's- it's about the universe, and the probability of existence of everything…"

And as the blonde talked, his voice lost the hesitant, fragile quality and developed into a vibrant, confident tone that shined with intelligence and joy.

And it was obvious, so obvious, that this was what he excelled at. That this was his passion and his joy and what he spent hours upon hours surrounding himself with.

His body was alive with movement and excitement, and he seemed to almost glow with joy. And his eyes, his eyes were so, so bright, practically shining with happiness. His arms flailed in every direction as he described this or that, but Gimli could no longer pay much attention, for he was lost. So lost. And he had fallen, he had fallen hard.

"- and if that's true, then it means that there's a one in a tenth to the power of two million six hundred and eighty five thousand that the person that is you even exists! I mean, think about it! That's a ten followed by two million six hundred and eighty five thousand zeroes! The chance is practically non-existent! It's just, is so near impossible and amazing, and it, it's just- It's so, so…" ***

Gimli interrupted, his eyes fixed on the shining blue orbs.

"Beautiful."

(He was not talking about the probabilities of chance.)

The blonde froze, his eyes now soft.

"Yeah, beautiful…"

Suddenly, a brilliant flare of an idea was set alight in Gimli's mind, and he gasped. The blonde blinked, staring in confusion, but he payed it no mind. He jumped up and ran to grab his backpack, fumbling with the zipper and pulling out his notebook.

"Can you repeat what you just said?"

His head was still buried in his bag, searching for a pencil, or a pen- anything he could write with, really- but he could imagine the utter bewilderment crossing over his companion's face.

"W-what?"

Gimli looked up then, staring straight into the other's eyes.

"Can you repeat what you just said? From the top?"

"I- Uh, yes. Yes I can. But why?"

He shook his head, he couldn't describe it, it would take too long. Already the flare of creativity was dying down, and he couldn't allow that.

"No time. Please, please, it's important."

For a moment there was silence, and then the hesitant voice started up once more, just as it had the first time.

"It's about the universe, and the probability of existence of everything…"

Then Gimli realized that he still didn't have a dratted writing utensil, and so he dove back into his bag, cursing himself and his messy habits.

He kept an ear out, though, focusing on the stream of words that the blonde was releasing. The voice was quickly gaining back its vibrancy, and Gimli almost felt himself get lost in it again.

After he finally gave up on his hunt for a pen, deciding that he must have misplaced it somewhere, he put his whole focus on listening to his companion, trying to memorize every movement and expression and sound. Trying to cement the idea within his head and never let go of the music that floated amongst the words. The world was at his fingertips, he just needed to remember.

And then it was over, the dancing lyrics and half-thought tunes fading into nothing, and the blonde was staring at him expectantly.

Gimli breathed through his teeth, fighting the near irresistible urge to ask to hear it one more time. Anything to listen to the song just once more, anything to hear the joy and beauty in his companion's voice…

Instead, he nodded, placing his notebook back into his backpack and offering a little grin.

"Thank you."

The blonde gave him a single, curious look, but he did not pry further than that. And Gimli was grateful for it, because he would not know how to explain.

They chatted of other things then. He learned how his companion loved the stars and nature. About how was a single child, and how he was raised with only one parent. How he had been camping, trying to view a meteor shower, when a storm caused him to head home early, thus explain his late presence on the train.

He learned of the other's insomnia and his anxiety, and how he hated enclosed placed with a passion. He learned that his favorite color was yellow, and that he had a dog called Estel.

He learned many things, some serious, some sad, and some that made him laugh so hard he cried. But in return he told of his own tales and experiences, and so he thought it fair.****

He talked about his mischievous cousins and his father's deep laughter. He spoke of his songwriting and his work. He spoke on how he was decent with crafting and that he hated spicy food of any kind. He spoke of his miserable day and how his record deal had been declined. He spoke of everything he could think of, anything he could think of that might make the blonde laugh, for it was the most beautiful music in the whole world.

They bantered and teased one another, the shy exterior of their original conversation slipping into easy comfort. And everything was perfect, wonderful, and Gimli felt as if the world had suddenly become just right.

And then the blonde suddenly froze, his speech on the natural beauties of the universe suddenly pulled to a cruel end, stopped before it could ever truly begin.

He looked at Gimli then, his eyes shining with something akin to regret, and spoke words that the ginger never wanted to hear.

"This is my stop. I have to go."

As his companion stood hastily gathering his things into his messenger bag, Gimli stood as well, numbly helping out.

As his companion walked towards the opened door, the customary "Mind the gap" blaring above their heads, Gimli numbly followed.

As his companion stepped out the door- out of his life- Gimli did not just numbly stand still.

A large hand, calloused and tanned, wrapped around a smaller one that was slender and pale. The blonde looked down at their entwined grip, then up at Gimli's face.

"What's your name?"

The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them, but their was no suspicion in the other's eyes, only understanding.

"Mine's Gimli."

There was a second of silence, but then soft words echoed into the dark gloom of the platform.

"Legolas. Legolas Greenleaf."

The pale hand squeezed his own, and then it slipped out of his grasp.

And then the doors slid shut once more, leaving a barrier between himself and the blonde.

And then Legolas disappeared, taking Gimli's heart with him.

Gimli lived in a daze after that, his world becoming nothing but grey pallor and soundless songs.

He'd go on long walks, searching for a familiar head of blonde in the crowd, but never finding who he seeked. *****

He'd sit at his desk, staring at a blank sheet of paper, and try to remember. But no matter what he did, he could not find the memories. He couldn't picture them just the way they were.

He'd have a pen, but it was never the right one. It was never the one that could write down the dancing lyrics and the half-there melodies that had floated around his head when he had listened to those excited words.

And to ears that could never hear what he had to say, he pleaded for the music to enter his soundless world once more.

He pleaded to have Legolas say it all again, just one more time.

And then one day he broke. He could no longer focus or commit to anything any more, and he decided that enough was enough. He would not fail in his dreams simply because of one man he knew for less than two hours, no matter how beautiful and amazing and utterly wonderful that one man was.

He sat down and got to work, pouring his very soul into his creation. He tamed every last memory and thought, every strand of melody he could find. And then it was complete, and it was the most amazing thing that Gimli had ever written and composed.

He did not bother trying to get a records deal, he posted it on youtube.

It went viral in a matter of days, and suddenly he was flooded with offers and opportunities. Gimli did not waste the chance, he grabbed on tight and let it lead him on.

He was singing in concerts, on proper stages, and people were eager to hear more of his work. He was going to go on tour, and practically every records company in the nation wanted him, even the one who had declined him previously. (He refused that offer right away.)

He had fans, he had made a life out of his music, and had completed all he had ever wanted. And he was happy, so happy.

(Just not as happy as he expected to be.)

On the release of his first album, he was required to head over to Greenwood Studios, who were the ones he had ended up choosing for his career. They seemed to be a good company, and their ideas and advice was helpful.

(The fact that the name reminded him of Legolas may have also helped.)

He had walked in and headed over to the front desk, where they immediately allowed him through to the boss' office.

(Another good thing about Greenwood; they were incredibly efficient at everything. He'd never have to experience an eight hour wait again.)

Thranduil was a tall imposing man who was endlessly busy and kept his meetings brief and to the point. He never lacked composure, and his face was stuck in a blank expression. He was a man who shouldn't be messed with, and Gimli had yet to see a single person go against him.

And so it was quite a shock when somebody knocked quietly on the door in the middle of their meeting. It was even more of a shock when the owner of said knock did not wait for a reply before the door opened a crack.

But the biggest shock of all was when Gimli realized that he knew the person intruding in on the conversation.

Legolas.

The blonde had poked his head in- looking straight at Thranduil and completely ignoring Gimli's existence- and quietly told the man that he was going out. Then he seemed to realize that he was interrupting something and hastily made to apologize.

And then he noticed just who exactly sat in the chair across from Thranduil, and his fumbled tirade of apologies trailed off into a single word.

"Gimli?"

Gimli himself was busy staring, utterly gobsmacked, but he quickly drew himself together at the sound of his name.

"Legolas?"

The blonde smiled brightly, nodding and stepping further into the room, and Gimli stood up from his seat, intent on giving a proper greeting.

A slightly baffled voice interrupted the reunion.

"You two… know each other?"

He mentally slapped himself in the face, they weren't alone; Thranduil was still there. Right, Right. How to explain?

It turned out he wouldn't have to.

"Yes Ada. We met on the train."

Legolas was blushing again, and his eyes were on the floor as he nervously tucked an escaped strand of hair behind his ear.

Part of his mind was focused on just how adorable the blonde looked, but everything else was too busy thinking Wait, Ada?

"On the train? You seem to know each other quite… well."

And Legolas was blushing even more heavily, a light pink flush from the points of his ears to his scarlet cheeks, and Gimli was having trouble not exploding at the cuteness.

"We just met once, Ada, I'll… I'm going out."

Legolas flashed him another smile, though this one was slightly nervous and worried, and said quietly, "Bye…"

And then he had vanished once more, and it was everything Gimli could do not to chase after him.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Mr. Durinson, shall we get back to business?"

And so they did, even though all he really wanted to do was cry at the lost chance to hear the music once more.

When Gimli walked out of Greenwood Industries, far more depressed and sullen than when he entered, he was shocked at the cry of his name.

"Gimli!"

He turned around, eyes widening upon spotting the tall blonde making his way towards him.

"Legolas!?"

And then the blonde was there, his green scarf flapping in the wind, and he was lean and graceful and bright and so very beautiful that he took Gimli's breath away by his mere presence.

And he was real. Real and in the flesh and standing right there.

He was also blushing again, and fiddling with his sleeves, and shifting on his feet, and looking absolutely adorable.

"I, uh, I waited for you."

"I can see that, lad."

And now Legolas was blushing even harder, ducking his head and reaching up to tug at the edge of his scarf.

"I- Do you- Uh. D-do you want to hang out? Maybe? Sometime?"

For a few moments, Gimli stayed silent, and the blonde's face crumpled. But then he laughed, the sound deep and booming and filled with so much cheer that some passersbys did a double take.

"Of course, laddie, I would love to hang out with ya."

And Legolas beamed, practically glowing in happiness, and Gimli grabbed his hand, tugging him along in a random direction in the beginning of something rare and beautiful.

...

The End.

Notes:

* I do this so now Legolas does this too. Don't Judge.

** Don't get mad at Gimli, he is very tired, stressed, and angry. He is at his wits end. If you were utterly ignored in his situation, would you be any better? Also, does anyone else hold Metro conversations? I do, it's fun. If it sounds really weird to you to want to hold a conversation with a complete stranger, sorry? I do it, and I've met some really cool people. You should try it some time! :D

*** I based this off of a website, the title page is called What Are the Odds? It was very interesting, I recommend it.

**** Of all my conversations and all that, I learned two rules: Its okay to talk about almost anything except where exactly you live, and your whole name. Also security stuff, but I'm young enough that those things don't matter. I mean, I've gotten into some really weird conversations... but people clamp up if you bring up those two things. So... yeah.

***** Why did Gimli not just look Legolas up? BECAUSE GIMLI IS NOT A CREEPY CYBER STALKER PERSON THAT'S WHY. Also, it would be super awkward: Oh Hi i'm that random dude you met on the Subway lets be friends. Also because I took liberty for the sake of the story. Actually mainly the last one, but SHHHHH!

To all you people in the Music Industries, I am so sorry. I have absolutely no idea how anything works, and I winged all of it. I hope you can forgive me, and any feedback given to make it more realistic will be greatly appreciated. :)

I hope everyone enjoyed the story, and reviews/comments/advice/criticism/grammar help/everything else will be greatly appreciated, but is not required. :) To every one who does favorite, follow, and review, a HUGE thank you is sent your way! Especially all the guests who I can't respond to, you guys are great and thank you in advance. :D

Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope it live up to your expectations. :)

-The Mashpotatoe Queen