He looked down the lane where Elrond and his family -blood or otherwise - stood waiting for him and then back to Gimli who was sitting contentedly with his pipe on a well-padded bench, "Are you certain you will not come with us?" His old friend stared at him with deeply knowing eyes. "Come with me." Legolas amended.

"Yes, I am certain." The walk to the market was not a long one for elves but it was for an elderly dwarf, even if both Elrond and Legolas had offered a cart of some sort to help transport him. "You will be fine without me."

Legolas was not convinced.

Since he had come to Aman he had most of his time on Elrond and Celebrians land, exploring the woods and coast and anything else that fancied him only immediately surrounded his new home. His soul still felt raw and tender, like a partially and badly healed wound, and being too far away from his safe haven made him uneasy.

"You must get used to me not being-"

"Stop it."

The words hung in the air unspoken anyways: Used to me not being around anymore.

Gimli was trying to slowly help Legolas adjust to that very thought, to the thought of the final member of the fellowship to pass on and leave him alone. Elrond and Celebrian were trying to help as well, but Legolas was so stubborn.

If he did not want to learn and adjust, then he wouldn't.

Gimli sighed with sympathy "Legolas-"

"Not today, alright?"

Gimli heard the small tremble in his voice and took one of Legolas' hands between his own, patting it affectionately, "Now don't you go and start crying now, because then Lady Celebrian will as well and you will never get to go and see the festival."

This poor thing had been through so much pain already, his heart so haunted with too much love given and lost. Legolas took a deep breath and looked up to the clouds, gripping Gimli's hand tightly. "Go on lad, you don't want to miss Gandalf's fireworks, do you?"

"There will be other times to see them."

The elf had gotten like this near the end of Aragorn's life too, to reluctant to be parted from his side, for anything. Gimli didn't feel much older than last year, or the year before, but Legolas had grown more attached if possible. Perhaps the elf sensed something he himself did not yet.

"Now you are just being ridiculous. You can survive one single night without me, I assure you. I will still be here when you get back. As cranky as always but ready to listen to every detail."

Slowly his grip eased on the dwarf's hand, "Do you promise?"

Even if Mandow wanted to take him tonight, he would just have to wait until Legolas came back. There would be no leaving without a goodbye. He wouldn't do that to the dearest creature in his life, he couldn't do that.

He already knew what he would say to Legolas on his final night. He had been planning it for years; it had to be good enough to still bring the poor elf a measure of comfort thousands of years from now.

Because Legolas wound never forget him, and thus never truly forget the pain in his heart.

"Yes. I promise."

Legolas wasn't ready for him to leave, and if Gimli had it his way, he never would leave. But he would, he had no choice, and they both knew that.

He had written over forty letters for Elrond to give to Legolas whenever he thought it necessary, each also containing a little gift as well. He planned to write more letters, he would write hundreds if Mandos granted him the time.

He gave Legolas' hand another pat, "Now go on. Have fun, and tell me all about it when you get back."

Celebrian began making her way back up the walkway, while the others continued to wait patiently at the end. They were so good to him, and it continued to ease Gimli's heart that others seemed to see the same fundamental goodness within Legolas that he did, and loved him accordingly.

"Everything alright up here?" She asked casually, voice a soft as the setting sun.

Legolas answered: "No."

The same time Gimli said: "Yes."

Reaching out Celebrain began to rub a soothing hand up and down Legolas' back, sensing trouble Elrond took a few steps back towards the house, waiting for the signal for his wife. "Alright, what would you like to do about it?"

Gimli had loved Celebrian since the day he met her. Loved the way she interacted with Legolas, never questioning his moods or his sadness. Never belittling or ordering. Only care and compassion. If he wasn't okay, she intended to help him find a solution.

"I want to go to the festival."

Gimli smiled pridefully, "There's a good lad."

"You'll be here? When I get back?"

"I will fistfight Mandos myself if I must."

"Alright."

Together Legolas and Celebrain went back down the walkway and joined the rest of the family and began making their way towards the city and the night festival. Both twins made a good effort of distracting Legolas as they wandered, but Gimli still counted eight times that Legolas looked back to make sure he was still there.

Just in case.

It broke his heart.

Gimli never thought that the biggest concern of his natural death would be the effect of somebody else. But it was potentially the deepest fear that hat ever touched his heart.

He waited unitl the elves had walked out of view, and then another twenty minutes just to be sure before he got up from his plush perch with a groan. Slowly he made his way through the hallways and into the garden, passing by the Legolas' favirote tree, smiling when it dropped a few flowers peddles on him as he past. He carefully plucked a weed ready to seed as he left the garden and made his slow and aching way down the stairs to the sandy beach below.

There was still several burnt logs from a fire Legolas and the twins had had a few nights previous.

He started out across the darkening waters, the endless expance that separated these undying lands from the mortal one's he had gronw up on. He brought the weed up near his face and inspected it, watching as one little seed caught a daft of wind and blew itself into the oncoming darkness.

Legolas did this, not often but not infrequntly, whenever he missed his father too much. Apparently the used to do this in Greenwood to pass messages in the garden, when Thranduil was first teaching his son how to connect more fully with the nature around him.

He didn't know if it worked for Legolas, maybe Yavana made it work, and he doubted it would work for him, but it was worth a shot.

"You need to come now, Thranduil. I am holding on as long as I can, but your son needs you. Please hear him."

Closing his eyes he blew the seeds, wishing with every fiber that the seeds would hear and rely his words even if they were given verbally and not through a bond like with the elves. He watched as they drifted away, not into the sea but up, up, up in the air until if vanished.

Then, he began making his way back to the house to await Legolas' return.