HA! Somehow, inspiration chose to - quite suddenly - strike yesterday evening :D The chapter's rather short, and still quite cheesy, but... it's a chapter, right? ^^
Also, the great, wonderful errandofmercy allowed me to borrow her beautiful song. There's also an audio file, if you haven't listened to it already you definitely should - just google "The Ballad of Gimli and Legolas", choose the AO3 page, there's a link :)
36. He grew stronger and bolder
The Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring – Chapter 2: The Shadow of the Past
He wakes to the sensation of gentle fingers combing through his long hair, and a beautiful tune flowing through the air.
As he sighs softly the gentle melody slowly grows fainter, and then passes into a single word – spoken, but with a voice so melodious it might as well have been sung.
"Gimli."
His lips, quite without his cooperation, are pulled into what is certainly a ridiculously cheesy smile. It feels… strange, in a way, for it pulls at what must be almost healed scars and stiches, yet not even that can keep him from answering in turn.
"Legolas."
A warm, slender body is molten against his own, the fingers still running through the fiery red tresses, and for a few moments he allows himself to enjoy this. The peace, the love of the moment – surely he has earned that much, for he knows: A council is awaiting (perhaps not today, but too soon still), a new battle – a new war – to be fought, and he has not yet found out how the others did fare, apart from Fíli.
No matter the advantage of knowing Azog's strategies, some… some will have fallen. He has seen too much blood and death not to be aware of that.
Right now, though, in this moment, he lets Legolas' love and body warm his skin and heart, and the tune which is flowing again heal his soul.
Easily he recognizes the melody, from those terrible hours before the battle when he had thought his beloved lost to him forever, bound to a beautiful elven maid.
"Is this the ballad you wrote?"
Legolas' tenses against him, and the last drops of the song fall from his lips, shocked. For a few moments silence reigns, then the elf's posture eases and his head finds its place in the crook of Gimli's neck.
"You overheard our conversation before we left the mountain," the blonde realizes, fingers still moving, caressing. "I should have known. You should not- … you, my dear dwarf, must be ridiculously masochistic. You believed that I had chosen Caleth, and still you chose to eavesdrop? I am well aware of how that conversation must have sounded to you…"
"Listening in was not intentional," the redhead mutters, feeling his face heat up. "I ran into you, and- … it has always been hard for me to leave whatever room you were in."
"Stupid, stupid dwarf!" Legolas murmurs against his neck, ignoring the goose bumps that follow the gentle caress of his breath, before sighing. "And yes, you are right… what I hummed was indeed that ballad. Caleth was right too, I am hopelessly romantic."
"You are an elf," Gimli chuckles fondly, as if that were an explanation for everything (and quite often it indeed is), before hesitating. "…would you sing it to me?"
Bright, silvery laughter flows from the pale lips and against his neck, making him shiver. "Of course. But would you like to hear it, Gimli, meleth nín? It is not the kind of song I would expect dwarves to enjoy."
"If it is a song about you, and your heart, I would always enjoy it. If it is also a song about me, written by you – I might enjoy it even more," he replies cheekily, trying his best to ignore his racing heart, and Legolas chuckles softly.
"You only wish to hear me tell again how much I love you."
"I always will," he immediately agrees, heart stumbling and trembling, "after spending so long feeling your amrâb against mine, yet believing it was a one-sided, maybe even stolen bond. That maybe I had taken your fëa like a thief in the shadows. It brought me as much pain as it brought me comfort, and being told that its rightful place is indeed interwoven with yours – I do believe I will never tire of that."
"Then I shall tell you as often as you wish," Legolas murmurs against his neck, lips brushing against his skin ever so softly and making the younger one shiver, before the tune picks up again.
The beautiful melody flows from his pale mouth which is still resting dangerously against the dwarf's neck, yet fills the whole chamber like water running into a bowl, steadily and unstoppable. Then, in an ability but the Firstborn have ever been gifted (1), words fall from his lips to join the music, sung at the same time:
Like a jewel buried deep beneath the ground
My love gave off no light and made no sound
It lay untouched for a century
Til miner's hands came and set it free
And to your fate my soul was ever bound
For years I walked the forest paths alone
Among my father's kin the seeds were sown
The malice I was taught to bear
My race's callous lack of care
Was washed away like ocean-polished stone
Oh, a'maelamin
You have proved the folly of my kin
Oh, ai 'atar
Your spirit shines as bright as any star
At first I found it difficult to trust
My people's ill opinions all seemed just
But as we tread the thorny path
And fought to stave off evil's wrath
Our wariness soon crumbled all to dust
In Lorien beneath the Mallorn trees
The radiant Lady brought you to your knees
To see the love within your eyes
Awoke in me a sweet surprise
A firm devotion that would never cease
Mela en coriamin
I'll stay beside you til your eyes grow dim
Oh, spangaer
With you I'll board the fair grey ships and sail
Away... (2)
Gimli trembles when the last note falls away, leaving the chamber empty and full at the same time.
His heart is racing once again, trembling and quaking with the emotions that are burning in his veins.
To have their love compared to a jewel – Legolas really knows how to appeal to a dwarf's love for everything stone, he thinks weakly.
Then those last lines…
Easily he remembers the evening he had promised his dear friend to sail with him whenever the beckoning of the Undying Lands would prove too tempting to resist any longer. The boundless gratitude in the deep blue eyes had taken away his breath, then, convincing him that giving this promise had indeed been the right choice. Even though it may cost him entrance into the Halls of Waiting, as he knew little of what Mahal would think of him going with the elf – Legolas had always, and would always, be worth that risk.
"Do not misunderstand me, my friend," the dwarf had said, "your answer could not change my choice in any way – but would I even be allowed to set foot onto shore?"
A smile, quite dazzling and yet sad at the same time, had been his answer. "You are Elvellon – if any dwarf would ever be granted the right to enter, it would be you. Besides, the Lady of Light was the one to propose I ask for your company in the first place. She will sail soon, I expect, and perhaps take along Frodo and Bilbo… and who could ever deny the Lady of the Galadhrim, be they elf, Vala or other?"
Another smile finds its way to his lips, and this time he could not care less about the unfamiliarity of the sensation, the slight pain pulling at his new scars. (Many of those on his heart and soul, he finds, have healed and in turn, he can certainly take these on his body.)
"And change you I did, much like you changed me."
"Indeed," Legolas hums, happily sighing against his neck, and there is nothing Gimli can do but hold him even closer. Just a little longer…
"It will go down in history as The Ballad of Gimli and Legolas," a soft voice quietly remarks, flowing across the room and causing the dwarf to finally snap open his eyes. He did not hear anyone enter-
"Don't be ridiculous," Legolas gently scolds Caleth, who is sitting in a chair at the other end of the room. Even from his position Gimli easily spots the dark, angry scar running down her pale neck – and the cheek in her dark eyes. "Why would it?"
"Because you will go down in history?" the beautiful elf answers, amusement colouring the soft words. "Elvellon and khuzd-bah, two of the Nine Walkers and Three Hunters, time-travellers who came to spare so many an incredible pain?"
"Were sent, you mean," Gimli grumbles, rolling his eyes. This is ridiculous.
"If nothing else, your love will always be epic," Caleth gently teases, and the dwarf snorts incredulously. "And you finally sang it to him!" Turning to address the dwarf she rolls her eyes: "I did tell him repeatedly to just do so, and show his love by way of melody if he was too coward to speak of it directly… in that, it seems, you were equally chicken."
Gimli snorts again (although he cannot disagree) while Legolas raises his head to gift her with a bright, cheeky smile even though his pale skin has taken on a faint red tone. "Did you come for any other reason than to make fun of us?"
She blushes as well, before jumping to her feet. "My Lord Thranduil" (it is the prince's turn to roll his eyes) "sends me, to warn you that the dwarves are planning to have dinner here, now that Gimli is better. But I did also come to tease you."
Gimli blanches. "Am I even well enough for that kind of excitement?" he asks weakly and Legolas chuckles softly.
"…it is but a dinner?" Caleth inquires, apparently confused, and the blonde's laughter pearls through the chamber.
"Dinner, in that context, I would expect to mean a feast – to celebrate he has woken. And if that kind of feast is had by a Company of dwarves, who have spent the last five weeks worrying over him…"
Caleth, too, pales.
"But… your father? ... I-"
"Will be wherever the wine is, I expect."
The dark-haired elf sighs, falling back into her chair. "And Ciril will allow this to happen?" she asks disbelievingly, shaking her head. For all that she now is quite open with her princeling friend, dwarven habits and mannerisms appear to still worry her.
Gimli squints, thinking back to their last conversation. "Ciril – she is the healer, aye?"
"She is," Legolas confirms, long fingers still woven into his hair. "And I expect she will have little choice in that matter… but I am sure both she and Óin will interfere should Gimli's health be at stake, which I doubt. It will simply be… loud and chaotic, including lots of ale. Remember, none of them had much reason to celebrate these last weeks…"
Gimli freezes, even as Caleth nods in understanding. So much about peace and blissful ignorance… it is time to face reality.
Hesitantly unwinding his arms from around his beloved's lithe body he begins to work his own into a sitting position, immediately supported by Legolas as soon as he realizes the dwarf's effort.
Soft fur has been placed against the headboard of whatever bed he is lying on, and he leans against it with deep relief. He is still rather week, and the more he can hide that, the better – Legolas need not worry more than he will do anyway.
Sighing again he turns his head to stare at the beautiful creature sitting before him, watching his every move with attentive eyes. Like a predator stalking its prey-
No, no thoughts of that kind, especially not with Caleth in the room!
Taking a deep breath he forces himself to ask the one question either of them learned to hate and fear during the War of the Ring, the one question which grew more terrible with every battle they fought or heard of.
"Who fell?"
The blonde freezes for a moment, averts his gaze, and Gimli feels his heart grow cold.
"Who?"
"None of the Company," Legolas hurries to reassure him, "or I would have told you already." He hesitates, and the dwarf cannot stop the cold fear from creeping down his veins, paralyzing him. "Bofur lost a leg but is already doing quite well, Dwalin has acquired a number of new scars, and you already know about Fíli's eye."
"Who, Legolas?"
The older one's shoulders fall.
"Hádhron," he admits, voice but a whisper, and a deep, burning guilt settles in the redhead's stomach. He had seen the other on Ravenhill, fighting back to back with Dwalin after everything that had been said- "And- …"
The icy dread makes his fingers shake, his tongue as heavy as when he had woken up the first time.
"…Haldir?"
Not again, please, no-
The elf's shoulders fall even further, and he shakes his head, beautiful eyes averted. "No. Almost, but- … he has not fought in that kind of battle before, and when they were separated again- … Dáin sent Hallvadur to his aid, leaving his own back unprotected. He even fought his way back to Haldir, but took a wound to his thigh, and when he saw the crossbow aimed at Haldir's back… he took the bolt meant for him, only moments before the Eagles took out the orc which had shot it. According to Balin, who arrived but before he left for the Halls, he said something about Haldir's immortal life weighing more than his own, and that he had always wanted to go that way – in a battle, to save a friend. Haldir is still in shock."
Gimli barely hears the last few words as the first sob forces its way out of his throat, making him tremble violently. "No- …" he gasps, "not Dáin, not- …"
Slender but strong arms find their way around his shoulders and Legolas pulls him halfway into his lap when he buries his face in the simple tunic, shaking with the force of his pain. This is their fault, they changed the plan, Dáin should not have died, he could have lived so much longer-
"He does not regret his death, I am sure of that," the elf whispers soothingly, arms holding him safely against the lean chest. "Much like either of us would have given our lives to save Aragorn, he made his choice – for according to Balin it was exactly that: His choice."
"He did die defending King Brand's body the first time," Gimli murmurs weakly, feeling Legolas nod.
"That he did. He went in honour and with the knowledge that because of him, Haldir lives. I- … I knew him not like you did, not him who fell for Haldir nor him who fell for Brand, but I did like him and I do feel with you. He received a grand funeral, much like Thorin Oakenshield the first-"
"Thorin!" Gimli interrupts him, barely suppressing the next sob, "How is he?"
"Thorin Oakenshield was collected, but visibly shaken. Thorin Stonehelm… it was the only funeral I attended while you lay unconscious, and I am glad that I did. Dáin deserved the utmost respect, and his son deserved to know that we care for his loss and his father's sacrifice. He was devastated, but has since found back to himself. He stayed here with about 100 of his men, together with… Hanar I believe his name was? Nordri took the others back to the Iron Hills. Both the King under the Mountain and my father do their best to instruct young Thorin on how to lead his people while he is still coping with his grief. He will… he will be a great King once more, I am sure."
Feeling a little better Gimli takes a deep breath, raises a hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks.
"I should have been there when he was returned to the Stone!"
"You could not have been," Legolas gently chides him, "yet you can pay your respects once you feel better. It will be more than enough."
"Indeed," Caleth softly confirms, dark eyes wide and sad. "I grieve with you, Gimli Glóin's son, for I lost my brother to this War much like you lost your cousin. They would not have wished for us to despair, though – they fell so that we might live. And while Haldir still cannot comprehend that a dwarf would go that far to save an elf, while he will carry the guilt of having survived while his partner fell for as long as he lives – that is exactly what Dáin gave him. Life."
Taking a deep breath Gimli nods once more, before slowly detangling himself from his One and leaning back against the fur.
"D-dinner you said, right?" he inquires weakly, knowing that he, too, will carry the guilt of Dáin's death for as long as he lives. Along with so many others.
Caleth nods, a single bright tear finding its way down her cheek, and the dwarf takes another breath.
"Is there any chance you might help me take a bath first?" he asks of his beloved, well aware that the blonde will be more than desperate to keep him from asking too much of his weakened body. "I am feeling… sweaty, dirty, and my hair and beard must be in an atrocious condition."
"They are not," Legolas hurries to convince him with a shy smile, "I took care of them knowing how important they are to you."
Gimli freezes.
"You- …"
Yet another deep breath, his fingers buried in the soft furs underneath him.
Legolas' smile wilts away like a flower without water. "I- … should I not have? I didn't know-"
Growling, Gimli surges forward as fast as his trembling muscles allow him, reaching for the prize as the blonde had put it. The elf gasps for air when suddenly broad hands grab his tunic and pull him forward, a pair of lips crushing against his own. Now he is the one trembling in the dwarf's arms, melting against his strong torso and returning the heated kiss just as eagerly-
"Bath!" Gimli pants, having pulled himself away from his beloved's beautiful, tempting kiss with whatever self-control he has left, "I am not well enough for this!"
"And while I might adore the sight of you two finally in each other's arms I certainly do not wish to watch!" Caleth adds dryly, and the dwarf almost whimpers with mortification when he remembers her presence. "I think taking a bath is a great idea – go, in the meantime I will change the sheets and furs, and inform the others should they show up before you return."
"Thank you, Caleth," Legolas murmurs, his cheeks as red as Gimli's, before simply lifting the redhead into his arms. "You are way too weak to walk!" he disagrees before the younger one can even offer a word of protest, and – sighing – he gives in. If there is any who might ever be allowed to treat him like this, it is Legolas.
"If you drop me I will torment you until my very last day," he still threatens, which Legolas answers with a bright grin.
"I should hope so! Besides, I have carried you before."
There is no need to ask, Gimli knows what he is talking about.
"And I trust you with my life."
Another bright, dazzling smile, and the dwarf buries his head in the crook of the blonde's neck. Looking at him with those eyes, talking about touching his hair, taking him to bathe – tonight, his self-control will be put to an acid test.
TBC
(1) I borrowed this ability from a German Pen&Paper rolegame called DSA
(2) Like I said, this was written by errandofmercy
...I only just realized, Oin's name is a part of the word "OINtment"... huh O.o
Also, did any of you watch the extended scenes of Hobbit 3? I cried my eyes out :(