A Change of Heart
Legolas was aware Gimli was following him—how could he not be, with all the cursed dwarvish racket!—he was aware, but he chose neither to slow down nor turn to confront the dwarf; the Elf had more important things on his mind.
This was Lothlórien! Land of legend; kingdom of mystery; a golden haven in a world now so fraught with darkness and danger. Long had Legolas, far away beneath the trees of home, wished to visit the realm of the Lady of the Light—did not all who lived to see such troubled times?—for it was said to look upon the countenance of Galadriel was to see radiance good and pure, for there was no evil in the Queen of the Noldor, nor did the shadows touch her blessed realm.
Legolas was an Elf, and therefore immortal, yet in all his long years of life he had never before travelled to the Golden Wood-- or met with many of the Galadhrim, for the perils of this world had sundered the fair folk of Lothlórien from their Northern kindred.
It was not by either's choice that communication between them had waned. There was certainly no animosity between the Elves, and so Legolas was eager to get acquainted with his ancient cousins, and to see with his own eyes the wonders and the peace of Lothlórien the Fair.
The only sadness in Legolas' heart at being in such a place was simply the fact that Lórien had grown more beautiful as the rest of the world had grown more dark.
"Mornië alantië" he murmured sadly, closing his eyes in grief. Grief for the world, for Gandalf's fall, for their fate ---
"Are you ailing, or do you always speak to yourself so?" At the sound of Gimli's gruff voice, Legolas started, and spun round. Lost in joyful musings, the Elf had completely forgotten the presence of the dwarf.
Admonishing himself mentally, Legolas composed himself and fixed the dwarf with an icy stare, chin tilted haughtily. "State your business and be gone dwarf, I have no time to waste with your vacuous prattle" he said, more than a touch of asperity in his tone, though his anger was more at himself than at Gimli.
For his part, the dwarf watched him neutrally, feet wide apart, both hands resting on the head of his axe. "Is it just me you do not like, or do all of my race hold your enmity so?"
Legolas blinked. That was an unexpected question! And one he chose to ignore for the present, instead focusing on a more irking issue: "Is it the custom of all dwarves to follow and spy on folk while they are about their business?" he said, folding his arms across his chest, and regarding the dwarf with a critical gaze.
"I am not spying on you, Master Elf, nor following you, in truth, and you still have not answered my question."
Not following him? Was Gimli mad? Just what exactly accounted for following a person in dwarfdom, if not shadowing their every footfall? "If you are not following me, then what, pray, are you doing?" Legolas narrowed his eyes in suspicion
Gimli shrugged. "It seemingly appears that you and I both have the same destination in mind."
"Then why keep you to the rear, like some common thief or cutpurse?" Gimli was coming to see the Elves?
"I thought that you would not appreciate my company, Master Elf, and you have just shown my assumption was correct" Gimli shifted is weight. "Do not keep dodging the issue, answer my question." He demanded.
Legolas lifted his chin even higher, how dare the Dwarf demand anything of him! He thought angrily, and then surprised himself by answering. "The only hate in my heart is for Sauron and his fell beasts, and though there is little love lost between our species, my kin do not count your kind among them. We do not like Dwarves, it is true, but you are not the Enemy."
Gimli grunted, there was no telling whether it was the answer he expected or not. He only said: "We Dwarves regard you Elves the same way. Apathy at best, but hatred is high in the hearts of some. Do you deny these ill feelings in Elves too?"
"If I did, you would call me liar, and you would not be wrong to do so. True, some do hate Dwarves, but not all feel that way."
"Do you?"
Legolas had been expecting that question, and he answered the honest truth. "I cannot say I have acquainted with many Dwarves, but those I have known were considerably impolite, stiff necked and far to concerned with avaricious gain; not to mention the fact that you all smoke that most dreadful substance that stings the eyes and chokes the throat." He paused, looking to the dwarf, trying to gauge Gimli's reaction.
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Gimli fingered his axe absentmindedly. Legolas had stopped, staring at him, obviously wondering over what Gimli's reaction to his rather negative statement about dwarves would be. Well, thought Gimli grimly, at least he was honest. That was trait you had to admire in Elves, though it shocked the Dwarf that Legolas thought his kind discourteous! It was more or less true, he admitted grudgingly, but only when Elves were concerned, and besides, most Elves he had met had a fouler tongue on them than you would expect out of such fair faces. He was about to say as much, when Legolas opened his mouth again.
"However with the bad, there is always the good." He sighed, but continued with a good grace. "Gimli, your people are staid and steadfast. They are strong and brave, and formidable opponents in battle. I have fought alongside you, and can think of none I would rather have at my side, and I have fought also with Dáin's folk of the Iron Hills in the Battle of the Five Armies, and of their skill I can say only praise, even if their style differed from mine, it was effective nonetheless." Legolas finished.
Gimli stared at him, frankly astonished, and the Elf look surprised at his words too. The Dwarf could think of nothing to say except. "You were at the Battle of the Five Armies?" and that came out as little more than a splutter. Legolas must've understood though, because he answered softly. "I was" a shadow seemed to cross his face, and dim his bright eyes for a second, and then it was gone, so quick Gimli could have thought he had imagined it.
"Would that I had been there." He said
"Would that I had not"
"Why?" cried Gimli, surprised. "I had not thought you a coward, Master Legolas." That was the wrong thing to say, he realised, as Legolas' head came up, eyes flashing.
"I am not a coward, Master Dwarf," he said coldly. "Yet I do not like to see so many of my people fall."
Gimli nodded, understanding. As a warrior himself he understood the Elf's sentiments, and yet for the immortal, not used to death in any other way, the pain must be especially hard. "None like to see comrades fall in battle" he said quietly, bringing his eyes to meet those of his companions, then he smiled. "But come! Let us speak of merrier things, for this is Lothlórien, abode of the Lady of the Light, and ill thoughts should not be spoken of in a place such as this!"
Answering his smile with one of his own, Legolas slid down to the grown, supporting his back on the bole of a great mallorn tree and gestured for Gimli to sit also. "You are in favour of the Lady Galadriel?" his eyes twinkled merrily "I have thought I heard you once say that you would not be ensnared in the traps of a wicked sorceress, and an Elven one at that!"
"Ah, and there I must admit to being wrong!" said Gimli cheerfully. "For one to be able to rest eyes upon the Lady is blessed indeed, and any Dwarf is doubly blessed, for the Lady Galadriel is one of goodness and virtue, and her beauty is so that all the jewels of dwarfdom fade to insignificance when compared to her radiance, even the fabled Arkenstone of Thrain son of Thror! All the light and greatness of this world seem reflected in her face, all her splendour in this magnificent forest is shown. Aye, none can come upon her and not be touched."
"It seems you have fell under her spell after all" said Legolas, sounding faintly amused.
"If a spell indeed it is, then I should wish that it should be cast far and wide, and unto my kin in the mountains, so they too could see what heaven I have seen, feel the joy that I have felt, ah, now I understand why the folk of Durin loved the Elves so! Of all the treasures in this world, the Lady Galadriel is above them all, and were I allowed but one gift it would be to hold a lock of her golden tresses in my hand, naught else!"
"A bold request! For myself, I agree with you. The Golden Wood is a place of harmony and accord, and I have heard all that come here find peace. Would that I have come under different times, for these trees feel… unusual somehow… I cannot make it out."
"You are uncomfortable?" said Gimli, confused, and feeling strangely concerned, although he could not understand why, "you are a Wood-Elf are you not? I thought your kind were at home among trees?"
"I am, and we are, and I cannot say how good it feels to here the wind singing in the branches once again! But I hail from the distant North, dark and trackless Mirkwood, and we love the beech tree best. These," he touched the silvery bark of the mallorn gently, "these trees are strange to me… I would like to get to know them though."
Getting to know trees! The very thought astounded Gimli. For him trees were no more that a source of timber, the idea of them having souls and being able to… communicate was beyond strange! How do you get to know a tree? He wondered, and realised he's spoken out loud when Legolas answered.
"It is an empathy my people have. We love the trees, and they can sense it; they even return it in kind. It is not communication as such... I am unsure as to whether a Dwarf could understand such a relationship. Yet I suppose we Elves do not understand your passion for material wealth."
"I don't know" Gimli chuckled. "Your Elvenking seems to understand alright. I hear he has quite a hoard in deep Mirkwood, and guards it as jealousy as a dragon if I am any one to judge!" Once again, he realised to late that he might have said something very wrong, something that could endanger their budding friendship—it surprised him to think of it in such terms, but that was what it was, he realised—especially considering who he was talking to, but Legolas just regarded him sombrely for a minute and shrugged.
"It is true that my father has a certain weakness for silver and white gems, and he is rather proud of his collection--yet he treasures a necklace of green emeralds above all—myself, I am rather ambivalent towards it; there is only so much use for gold and gems, and most of it pure ostentation.
"Besides, what richer jewels are their then the gleaming gems of heaven, sparkling in a midnight diadem, free for all to see?"
"I assume you are talking about the stars?" Gimli grunted, but not with any heat. "You Elves and your stars…"
"And you Dwarves and your gems!" Returned Legolas. "All races love something it seems… we, our stars, you, your gold, Men… they desire power, and Hobbits—"
"Food! And call me an Orc, but I'll be damned if they have not got the best idea of all. If everyone in this world were more concerned with good meals, and cosy fires then the world would be a much merrier place indeed!"
"True enough, but one should not underestimate the halfling folk, they are hardier than they seem; many a battle has been lost over undervaluing the worth of your foes."
Suddenly Gimli laughed, clapping Legolas on his shoulder amicably. "You know, I have just come to a most startling conclusion!" he said
"And what is that?" said Legolas, quite astonished at this sudden turn of events.
"I have decided you would make a fine dwarf, Master Legolas, aye, and a fine friend to… if you will take me?"
And then Legolas smiled too, a warm beam that lit up his whole face. "You yourself would make a noble Elf, Gimli," he laughed then, joining Gimli is his mirth. "And I would be proud indeed to call you friend!"
He stood, proffering a hand to the Dwarf. "Come, friend Gimli, the night is yet young and we are still in the Golden Wood. I have a mind to seek out company, and perhaps indulge in the Hobbits' favourite passion…will you join me?"
"And if the Elves object to my presence, friend Legolas, and find my company as distasteful as you once did?"
"Then we shall have to correct them on that matter, as you did me, most noble Dwarf!" said Legolas with mock seriousness, which turned into a grin at the look on his new friend's face. "Come! Come Elf-friend! The future awaits, bringing evil tidings, I fear! But for now let us rejoice in what we have, and to new friendship between the Elves and the Dwarves and all the free peoples of Middle Earth—for only in trust and amity can we hope to conquer the dark forces!"
"A toast to that!" cried Gimli, striding along beneath the boughs of the Golden Wood, "and celebrate we shall!"
And as the walked, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, voices rose in the trees, mingling with the sweet sound of Elven harps, they sang; rejoicing too in the new found friendship between two very disparate beings. Giving voice to courage, giving voice to friendship, and how poor the world would surely be without it!
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~"No man is useless while he has a friend"~ R. L. Stevenson