Many thanks to Armeniel for beta-reading. *bows*
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Chapter Two:
Dawn came with fire, seeming to wrap the skies in flames and burning the darkness from the world. Trees greeted the sun with joy, filtering the sunlight through a blanket of light green and dark green alike. The tiniest glimmer of mist hung in the air, spiralling among the trees like pale smoke.
A leaf tore free of its broken branch, falling softly against the ground taking all the time in the world. But it did not fall on grass, or on rock, earth or even water. It fell on the dark hair of a resting Dwarf, and Legolas picked it free with a bare hand.
Gimli slept still, his eyes closed and his breath white in the chilly morning. Now and then he would grunt softly, and stir just slightly before going still again. A mortal's sleep, seemingly content, perhaps filled with dreams.
Legolas wondered what he dreamed of. Mountains? Caves? Gems? How to explain to his kindred he had taken an Elven lover?
The leaf was wet in Legolas's hand, and he twirled it silently. Forests and leaves and Elves. His life. Or rather, what had been his life. Where his life went now, he had no idea. It was as if he had stepped into darkness. Nothing was the same anymore. Or perhaps everything was the same, and the changes were within him.
He was changed. He had been with a Dwarf, a male, a living flame. Nothing could be the same.
Another leaf fell from the tree above, dancing in the wind and shining in the sun before it fell to the ground and found its spot among the other leaves already fallen. Broken branches from the storm would soon fall, and new branches would grow out again. Dying leaves. Living forest.
Fangorn was quiet in the morning, aware but asleep. Never again would the forest awaken. Its time had passed. It would linger, fading slowly, its greatness diminished. It had been the price to drive Sauron away.
The price of Fangorn – and of the Elves. Mirkwood would also fade and his father's kingdom would fall not into ruin, but into memory and legends and mist. The price. The bitter, bitter price, but nevertheless paid. For the downfall of Sauron. A good thing, and all good things came with a price.
What would be the price for Gimli's love, Legolas wondered. His father's sorrow? His kindred's scorn? To be forever torn between two worlds – the immortal life he was born to and the mortal life of Gimli? To see love die? Or perhaps the price would be all of this and yet somehow worth it all.
To be with Gimli… It had been a pleasure beyond words, at least any words known to Elves. Words could only describe a faint echo of what it had been, like a humming left after a song. A remembrance of it, without the force or the passion.
Legolas closed his eyes, feeling the heat of the sun on his face, warmer than it had seemed the day before. He could feel the forest around him, breathing and creaking only slightly in the gentle wind. There was little evidence of the storm that had haunted the night, yet the storm had undoubtedly been there, ravishing as it swept through.
"You look as if you are lost in deep thought," Gimli said, and Legolas turned to see his friend looking at him with a faint smile.
"I wondered how many bruises you would awake to," Legolas answered lightly.
"Hah! More than I can count, my friend. Fangorn Forest is not a kind bed."
"Or perhaps Dwarves have too delicate skin."
"Perhaps," Gimli acknowledged, a smile still lingering on his lips. "But to this Dwarf's hands, it is your skin that feel delicate, like silk and pearls combined. Or perhaps I only dreamt that."
"Perhaps," Legolas replied, lifting a hand to clasp with Gimli's. The Dwarf's skin was strangely hot to the touch, warmer than the sun and nearer still.
"I did not dream you," Gimli said quietly, and let his other hand caress Legolas's cheek tenderly.
"You did not dream me," Legolas confirmed. "I am here. Did I not say you were my choice?"
"That was in the dark of night. I feared morning would shed new light on me, and you would walk into the forest and leave me with only memories."
"I could not walk away from you any more than I could cease to breathe by my own will," Legolas said honestly. "But the forests do call me, Gimli. I must return to my home, at least for a little while. Will you come with me to my father's halls, to the great caves of Greenwood the Great?"
"My father was subjected to the dungeons of King Thranduil," Gimli replied, but there was no anger in his voice. "Will my welcome be kinder?"
"You are my friend and one of the Nine Walkers. My father will greet you with respect."
Gimli seemed to hesitate for a moment, regarding Legolas with dark eyes, swirling with passion and fire and fear, all at once.
"I will go with you, if you will follow me to the caves and halls of my kin and face their displeasure as I will face your kin's."
"I will," Legolas promised, but a shadow seemed to pass over as he spoke. Dwarves and Elves. Nothing but ill fate had been felt between their two kindred for ages, and this had to be overcome, else he and Gimli would also suffer an ill fate. No love would withstand so much resentment, so many shadows falling over it.
"Promise me you will remember the night," he said suddenly, pressing a hard kiss against Gimli's lips. "Promise me. For I fear what the light of day will do to our choice."
"I promise," Gimli said solemnly, and returned the kiss with far more tenderness. His lips felt as warm as they had in the moonlight, but more familiar and less hesitant. Not the urgent firestorm of last night, but the gentle warmth of smouldering embers. But always fire. Always fire.
"Come then," Legolas whispered as they broke apart, resting his forehead against Gimli's for a fleeting, heart-warming moment, "let us walk."
He almost wished he could have stayed forever in the silence of Fangorn and the touch of Gimli the Dwarf. But nothing was forever. Not Fangorn, not the Elves, not the night.
As they walked into the morning, Legolas let go at last of the leaf he had clutched. It twirled and twirled in the wind, almost humming in the flaring sunlight of Fangorn Forest.
And then, as soundlessly as it had fallen, it vanished into the morning mist.
