Characters: Legolas and Gimli, Dwarven o/c's Lady Vonild (Gimli's mother), Greirr (Gimli's nephew), Thorur (Gimli's brother in law) and other dwarven o/c's
Gimli's pov:
I cautiously peel back the bandage from my recent wound and then carefully wipe away dots of blood so I can see it better. I am very careful to follow the instructions to blot rather than to rub, for rubbing can damage the integrity of the work that has been done and I have been through too many uncomfortable sessions with Master Magen to take a chance on messing anything up now. I very gently wash the area of skin that covers about a hands span just over my heart, carefully pat it dry and then apply a healing salve that should keep any infection from setting in. Only then do I stand back and really take a good look in the glass.
When I do so, I cannot help the smile of satisfaction that comes to my face. It has been a difficult two weeks, but it has been well worth it. If I say so myself, the design is beautiful and Master Magan's ink work is perfect, in spite of the fact that he objected to doing it at first.
It has been over twenty years since the last time I added any markings and a tattooist in Erebor did those three, just after the Ring War. I had one in remembrance of those who died in that war, another to show my fealty to the newly enthroned King Under the Mountain, Thorin Stonehelm, and one more to mark my new settlement here in The Glittering Caves. Every marking has a special significance, and this newest work of art is no different. I have known for some time that I wanted to have this very special inking done, but it was a matter of choosing the right time and coming up with the perfect design.
There has been something unique and special about this current visit from my elfling that made me realize that now is the right time. Legolas arrived here three weeks ago seeking my help to recover from an especially difficult episode with the Sea Longing and something about that simple, gesture touched me in a way that is difficult to describe. His complete child like faith in my ability to mend his troubles made me realize that it is past time for me to recognize the lad in a deeper and more concrete way, in a way that all dwarven fathers recognize their children.
It is a custom among dwarves that when a child is born, the father designs or chooses a design to be marked into his skin, traditionally on the left side of the chest just over the heart to represent his new offspring. Usually this process begins just after birth and is completed within the infant's first month of life. The ink will be shown to the family at the naming ceremony when the child reaches three months of age.
Even though it may seem odd to some of them, all of the residents of Aglarond and anyone who knows me well, knows that I consider Legolas my heart son, and that I love him as if I had sired him myself, in spite of the impossibility of that and in spite of the obvious differences between us. Of course our relationship did not begin in the way it normally would for a father and son. I did not know him when he was a child of course, but instead suddenly found myself acting as a substitute father to an adolescent elf while we were in the middle of a dangerous quest. So the question of offspring ink did not enter my thoughts at the time. And even later I did not know if the time was right, for there is no precedent set regarding dwarves adopting elven youngsters.
But as I said before, this particular visit has been a special one for many reasons, not the least of which is Mam guessing my desire to sail with my lad when he is no longer able to endure staying in Middle Earth. It made me realize that if I am willing to go to that length, there is no reason that I should not acknowledge my lad as any other father would. It is not as if it is a secret to anyone at this point anyway.
The difficult bit has been trying to keep my temper with Master Magen I himself since he was dead set against the idea and was shocked at my design, for it combines dwarven and elven motifs. Never in his long career had he inked someone with an elven marking and he was not keen to begin at this late date. In fact he had outright refused at first, when I came to him with the design I had created.
"I realize you are Lord here, and you know I would do anything for you, but this is asking too much, Lord Gimli," He had complained, " It goes against all of our customs that have been in place for centuries. Folks will be shocked when they hear of it."
"Ah well, Master Magen, times change and we must change with them," I pointed out. "I have done many unconventional things in my life, so there is no surprise in that. Ye know that when ye decided to leave the Lonely Mountain and follow me here."
"No offense meant to you, my Lord, but I moved here because my son wanted to marry your sister," he says rather coolly. "not that I regret it mind you. It was a good match, and it has been a good life here. I have even come to accept you and your family's odd affinity for taking up with elves, but marking yourself with elven symbols is going too far. Why I recall when my own Da inked Lord Gloin with your offspring markings and a fine dwarven design it was too! The poor old fellow would turn over in his grave if he knew what you were proposing."
As an elder Master Magen evidently felt freer than most to talk to me in such a manner, and normally I am able handle such criticism with a fair amount of grace, but the suggestion that I might be betraying my own beloved father proved to be too much. I raised myself up to my full height and lowered my voice ominously.
"I know about Lord Gloin's offspring markings," I told him, " I have seen them many times and I have a matching one on my own back that was done when I came of age, as is proper for a son. But if you think he would disapprove of my acknowledging Legolas as a heart son, then you would be wrong. Da loved my lad just as Mam and I do and he understood that changes must take place for improvements to be made. And he did not stubbornly hold on to old grudges."
"The markings should be done at birth," Master Magen tried, taking another tact. "It is too late to have it done now!"
But this argument held no water with me either, for I happen to know that Magen's own son Thorûr wears markings to recognize his stepson, and my nephew, Greirr, and that he got inked when Greirr was already ten years old.
"But that is different," Magen argued. "Greirr is not…"
"Not what, Master Magen?" I challenged him, for we had been over this issue on many other occasions, beginning when Dorbryn got married and he did not wish for my elfling to attend the wedding. The question of race does not enter the picture when it comes to kinship in my mind and everyone here knows that! But then again, Master Magen does have rights over his art, so I decided then to let him off the hook.
"Ah well never mind," I said, "I will not order ye to do something that ye find so distasteful. I am certain I can do it myself with a little effort."
"Do it yourself? Why such a thing is unheard of! Have you even held a tattoo needle before?"
"Nay, but with a mirror and a little help from Thorûr, I am sure I can mange it. You are training him to take over your practice here now that his older brother moved back to Erebor are ye not?"
"I am attempting to teach him, it is true," Magen said, his eyes growing wide. "But he has only just begun training in the last two months and he does not have the skills his brother had . He has only ever tattooed a bit of pig leather, and I am sure the pig was pleased he was dead rather than having to run about with that mess on his skin."
"Well it will be good practice for him then," I said, and turned as if to go off to find my brother in law. "I thank you for your time."
I hadn't even made it to the door of his studio when he called me back.
"Lord Gimli, wait!"
I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned back to face him.
"I will do it," he said. "You are lord here. I cannot in good conscience let you get inked by an amateur such as my son. If you must desecrate yourself with elven graffiti, at least it should be done by a real artist so that you look decent. I have my name to think about as well and if it gets out that I allowed our own Lord to receive a substandard tattoo it could ruin me. Besides your mother would have my head if I refused and my son botched the job."
Magen may be difficult at times, but he is not stupid. He knows when he is in the presence of a stronger mind and facing Lady Vonild after refusing her son must not have appealed.
After that, it was just a matter of spending nearly two weeks of late evening hours having the work done. It is a tedious process and slightly uncomfortable, but not really painful like the ones I had done on the softer skin on the insides of my arms. Still the detailed design meant a lot of time spent with Master Magen, who never complained again, but who managed to look askance and disapproving most of the time. Still today when the last stage was finally completed, even he could not deny that the result was stunning. Annoying he may be, but Master Magen is truly a first rate artist.
Now the only bit left is waiting for the last of the tattoo to scab over and peel away, which should take another few days. After that I can show it to my lad and explain the significance of it. Until then, I will have to continue to keep him in the dark, something that has become increasingly difficult lately.
Since the debacle with the aqueduct was revealed and dealt with, Legolas seemed to recover fairly quickly from the episode of sea longing that brought him here in the first place. There has been an occasional difficult night that makes me reluctant to let him out of my sight yet, but even that seems to be better now and between Mam and me we have managed to coax him into gaining back a good portion of the weight he had dropped before finally coming to his senses and coming here to recover.
It concerns me greatly that this has been the most difficult bout of sea longing we have dealt with, for it proves to me that things are beginning to take more of a toll than before. Only a few short years ago such episodes could be overcome in a day or so and then forgotten for months at a time. Now it seems like the spells are triggered easier, last longer and have gotten closer together as well.
Having said that, anyone who did not know him intimately would be unable to tell that anything was ever wrong. Other than still being a bit too thin, he is back to his old self, though he has not yet suggested that he is ready to go back to Ithilien. That in itself tells me he realizes also that there has been a change in his health, even if he does not readily admit it. It is worrisome, and yet I am in no hurry for him to leave and not just for the fact that I always miss him when we are apart. I need him to stay at least another week or two if I am to surprise him, and I am determined to do so, even though it has started to become more difficult.
I fear that he may have become a little suspicious of my unexplained absences every evening over the last couple of weeks, especially because my excuses for being gone have gotten weaker as I have run out of plausible explanations. Greirr has done what he can to keep the lad distracted and busy, and even now has him out and about somewhere. Mam has done her best to help me too, but she believes he may be starting to feel a little neglected. She has advised that I should be careful about causing hurt feelings, but it is only a little longer before everything can be explained. I am sure he will forgive my lack of attention once everything has been revealed. And at least now my evenings will be free. I only need to keep him from seeing the healing scar for a few more days and all will be explained.
As if thinking this has conjured him up, my bedchamber door suddenly opens and my elfling bursts into the room. I swear loudly and turn my back, hurrying to replace my shirt to cover the tattoo before he can see it.
"Mahal, lad, ye make all the noise of a herd of snails when ye come in," I exclaim, "I am considering putting a bell around your neck!"
"I am sorry, Gimli. I should have knocked. I.."
I sigh inwardly, for it is easy enough to read the hurt in his face at my outburst, so I hurry to smooth things over.
"Nay lamb, there is no reason to be sorry. Ye just startled me is all."
"Oh. All right then."
He comes forward to embrace me, but I reach up and grab his arm before he can do so for I do not wish him to press against the freshly inked tattoo for to do so while it is so new could smudge the edges and make the colors appear faded.
"Come Laddie,," I say, reaching up to pat his cheek and then pulling him over to my right side, "Let us go see what Mam is up to."
"Is something wrong, Elvellon?"
It is easy to see he is puzzled by my odd behavior, but again I attempt to reassure him.
"Nay, not a thing," I promise. "Everything is just fine."