Our Most Beloved Star

by jkleeberger22

A dark lord waits to take back his own while an elf maiden waits for her beloved. An orc waits for the chance to fight and prove himself while a hobbit waits for a battle he dreads. Everyone is waiting, and they all see one thing in common: a symbol of light and hope. But whose hopes will come true? It's all a matter of perspective. A series of overgrown drabbles and short ficlets

6. Chapter 6

Legolas was staring at the sky, despondently humming a lay that Gimli suspected had to do with the sea. At least when Legolas was fighting, he forgot about that accursed sea longing. The dwarf suspected waiting, dwelling on the allure of the waves that the elf could not succumb to, was far more difficult for Legolas than any battle. He decided to take it upon himself to distract his friend.

"Are you looking at the stars again, Legolas?" Gimli asked, shaking his head. "I shall never fully understand the strange elvish fascination with stars."

Legolas looked at the dwarf as if confused why he should even have to explain this. Just as Gimli was preparing himself to hear the history of the stars, from their creation by Varda to the story of Earendil, the elf changed tact.

"Imagine a beautiful jewel taken from the mines and shined and polished by the best craft the dwarves of Erebor have to offer. Such a gem would seem to shine of its own light, would it not?"

"Aye."

"Imagine a whole cave of them, with the stones gleaming amid the dark, and you will know why elves feel as we do about the stars and the night sky."

"I thought that was the way you felt about trees. Apparently elves feel like that about all creation."

"Except for caves," Legolas smiled.

"Ah, but you forget the Noldor. They had some skill with stone craft- for elves, anyway. Perhaps it is just a certain elvish princeling who feels thus about underground travel," Gimli teased.

"Underground, it is as dark as a sky without stars, and the walls close about me. Only a dwarf or a race of elves as corrupted as the Noldor could like such conditions."

"If we are speaking about what your home says about you, then Mirkwood elves are surely a point of interest. Who would want to live in such a dark, twisted forest?"

Instead of cheerfully returning the banter, Legolas became quiet and sad. "It was not always so. Once it was beautiful…"

Gimli immediately felt guilty for the thoughtless quip. "I know, and it will be so again. The star you love is proof of that. The Silmaril once dwelt in the darkness of Morgoth's fortress, serving as an adornment to his dark crown, but now it dances in the sky. Your forest, too, will be freed from the evil. "

"And the star brings hope," Legolas added. "Just as you have brought to me now, Gimli. Thank you, my friend."

"It helps to while away the hours," the dwarf shrugged with a grin.