This is for day 6 of Gigolas week, which is rain or ocean. I chose rain, just because it was raining when I wrote this.
"There is nothing more wonderful than the scent of the earth after it rains," Legolas said, inhaling deeply, eyes closed and a smile on his face.
"You're daft, but I've told you that before," Gimli grumbled. Unlike his elven lover, who was sitting out on the balcony, Gimli was still in the room tending to his weapons. He had agreed to come visit Legolas' father, and it was going surprisingly well. The elvenking hadn't been enthusiastic, of course, but he had been civil, which was the most Gimli had hoped for.
He had joined Legolas out on the balcony of their shared rooms before, of course, but when it was raining or just after it rained, he remained inside. His elf, however, seemed to forsake common sense and had gone outside as the shower ended, standing in the fine mist with his face raised towards the sky. Legolas' fine hair had become even more sleek, as opposed to what would have happened to Gimli's hair if he had been out in that mess.
"Why do you never join me in the rain?" Legolas asked, coming back inside once he had his fill of the crisp, fresh scent left behind after the rain. "It is beautiful, at times you are able to see a rainbow."
"I keep out of the rain, elf, like anyone with sense," Gimli said, smirking up at his elf. He knew the expression would be missed by most elves, but Legolas was a master at reading Gimli's expressions despite the heavy fall of his beard, and he didn't doubt that Legolas would see the amusement shining in his dark eyes. "I dislike being cold."
"No, that is not all," Legolas denied, settling in the chair opposite Gimli and preparing his supplies, Gimli bracing himself for the smell that always accompanied fletching arrows. He was used to it, after time spent with Kili and even longer spent with Legolas, but that didn't mean that he enjoyed the smell. "You are, as you take pride in reminding me, a dwarf of the north. Cold is familiar to you, you can endure it."
"Rain is cold and wet," Gimli pointed out, shaking his head. "Nearly as bad as snow, that. I tend to avoid it when I am capable of doing so. Besides, it makes my hair frizz."
Legolas appeared thrown by that. "Your hair is affected by the rain?"
"Aye, quite possibly because of the curl of it, but it frizzes each time I am caught in the rain," Gimli replied, running a hand down his smooth, braided beard before going back to whetting the edge of his ax. "It makes it even more difficult to manage, if you can believe that. Dreadful, 's why I tend to avoid being out in the rain if I can help it." Being caught in the rain was unavoidable at times, of course, but if he was able to avoid it, he would. Sometimes even being outside directly after it had started to rain was enough to cause his hair to frizz.
"What is it like?" Legolas asked, fletching materials set aside as one hand drifted up to stroke his silken hair speculatively. "I do not believe that I have ever experienced something of the sort."
"I doubt you would have," Gimli said honestly, looking up. "Our hair is different, mine is thicker than yours and curls, while yours is as fine as corn silk."
"Is it truly such a horrible fate that you would deprive yourself of this wonderful day, simply to avoid it?" Legolas asked, confused. He had never had to deal with such a thing, nor could he think of any elf he had met mentioning it.
Gimli looked out the still open balcony door, taking in the weak sunlight nearly covered by the dark clouds. "Wonderful day? I believe you need to redefine what qualifies as a good day, elf, as it looks like it is going to rain buckets within the hour."
"We are in my father's realm, accepted by him and free to visit when we will," Legolas mused, leaning back in his chair. "Your words are cross, but your eyes sparkle with amusement, so you are hardly as put out about the rain as you would like me to believe. We are happy, my love, and healthy. We have just received word from our friends and all of them are doing well. I believe that is more than enough to qualify this as a good day, regardless of your distaste for rain."
"You will not be satisfied until I stand upon that balcony with you, will you?" Gimli asked, although he couldn't stop a fond smile after Legolas' speech. His elf had a way of doing that, taking something that he was so firmly against, like voluntarily being caught in the rain, into something he would do willingly if it would make Legolas happy. Occasionally, it would amaze him, but then he would recall that, for an anniversary one year, his father had turned an unused portion of their cellar into a jam room, completely stocked with his mother's favorite jams and jellies, simply so she would never need to worry about running out. Gimli liked to think that he wasn't as far gone as his father yet, at least.
"I will tend to your hair myself, if it will ease your mind," Legolas replied, amused, leaning over the table to run his fingers through his husband's long red hair. "It would be no hardship, I assure you."
"You may say that now, but wait until you have to deal with it." Still, Gimli did set his ax aside, standing and accompanying his husband out to the balcony. There were worse things he had done for Legolas, after all.
And later, after the rain had ended and both had tumbled back into their rooms, soaked to the bone, Legolas was as good as his word, tenderly removing each braid and carefully setting the beads aside before brushing out the long fall of his husband's red mane.
Perhaps, Gimli mused as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of his elf's hands in his hair, it was possible that rain wasn't as bad as he had previously believed.