Gimli was getting tired of it. The Elf kept staring at him. It seemed as though every time he turned around, Legolas was quickly averting those quicksilver eyes of his elsewhere. Finally, after several days of this, Gimli cornered the blonde archer. "What is it?" the Dwarf growled, clutching his axe. "Why do you keep staring at me when you think I'm not looking? Legolas look startled. "Ah! So you think I hadn't noticed, eh? My brain isn't quite so thick as my beard." At this last word, the Elf gave a small whimper, his first sound of the entire encounter.
Legolas straightened, having wilted slightly under Gimli's aggression. He glanced around quickly, making sure none of the Fellowship were within earshot. "If I tell you, you must swear secrecy on pain of death." Gimli, a bit startled, nodded. Legolas continued in a hushed voice, leaning closer. "You know of the Curse of Man - Death." Again Gimli nodded. "It is not widely known, but Elves also have a curse." The Elf bowed his head, his golden hair falling down his shoulders. "We ... We love hair. We love long hair. Lots of it. In all your time in Rivendell, did you ever see an Elf with anything resembling short hair?" Gimli shook his head, still a little startled by this turn of events. "I'm amazed you didn't get this much attention in Rivendell, but then, you did spend most of your time with the other dwarves, not mingling much.
"What's this got to do with me?" Gimli asked finally. "I've got hair, aye. But not nearly so fair and fine as Elven hair."
"I-it's not the hair of your head that's captured my attention," the Elf admitted softly. Slowly, his hand reached for Gimli's beard.
With a growl and a sudden movement, Gimli had captured the slim Elven wrist, keeping it from its target. "Never touch a Dwarf's beard without permission." His voice was dangerously low.
Legolas nodded, willing to do just about anything to his hands on that mass of hair below the Dwarf's chin. "May I?"
After a moments thought, Gimli let go. "Do as ye will." Legolas slowly, almost reverently lay his hand on Gimli's beared. His slim fingers curled, sliding down through the strands. The hair parted easily, not pulling as he had expected.
Slim Elven fingers wrapped around one of the braids at the end of the beard. "Why are the braids so big?" he asked softly.
Gimli's answer was to hold up his hand, fingers short and thick even without gloves. "If we had fingers like yours, Elf, they'd probably look more like this." He reached out and fingered one of Legolas' tiny braids. His fingers brushed Legolas' cheek as he did so.
The Elf looked up at the contact, both hands stilling in Gimli's thick braid. "I could ... Perhaps as a token of friendship between our people ...?" His offer was hesitent.
"You'd braid my beard?" He looked down, flipping up part of his beard to consider it for a moment. "Lotta beard, here."
Legolas nodded and Gimli thought he heard a tiny squeal of delight.
"Very well, but start from underneath. Don't want anyone getting funny ideas about us."
Again, Legolas nodded. "I'll just go get my comb," with that, he dashed off, leaving Gimli to chuckle and get comfrotable. He knew he would be there a while, and was thankful the company had decided to take a day to rest.
After all, Dwarven beard groomig was serious business.
Legolas straightened, having wilted slightly under Gimli's aggression. He glanced around quickly, making sure none of the Fellowship were within earshot. "If I tell you, you must swear secrecy on pain of death." Gimli, a bit startled, nodded. Legolas continued in a hushed voice, leaning closer. "You know of the Curse of Man - Death." Again Gimli nodded. "It is not widely known, but Elves also have a curse." The Elf bowed his head, his golden hair falling down his shoulders. "We ... We love hair. We love long hair. Lots of it. In all your time in Rivendell, did you ever see an Elf with anything resembling short hair?" Gimli shook his head, still a little startled by this turn of events. "I'm amazed you didn't get this much attention in Rivendell, but then, you did spend most of your time with the other dwarves, not mingling much.
"What's this got to do with me?" Gimli asked finally. "I've got hair, aye. But not nearly so fair and fine as Elven hair."
"I-it's not the hair of your head that's captured my attention," the Elf admitted softly. Slowly, his hand reached for Gimli's beard.
With a growl and a sudden movement, Gimli had captured the slim Elven wrist, keeping it from its target. "Never touch a Dwarf's beard without permission." His voice was dangerously low.
Legolas nodded, willing to do just about anything to his hands on that mass of hair below the Dwarf's chin. "May I?"
After a moments thought, Gimli let go. "Do as ye will." Legolas slowly, almost reverently lay his hand on Gimli's beared. His slim fingers curled, sliding down through the strands. The hair parted easily, not pulling as he had expected.
Slim Elven fingers wrapped around one of the braids at the end of the beard. "Why are the braids so big?" he asked softly.
Gimli's answer was to hold up his hand, fingers short and thick even without gloves. "If we had fingers like yours, Elf, they'd probably look more like this." He reached out and fingered one of Legolas' tiny braids. His fingers brushed Legolas' cheek as he did so.
The Elf looked up at the contact, both hands stilling in Gimli's thick braid. "I could ... Perhaps as a token of friendship between our people ...?" His offer was hesitent.
"You'd braid my beard?" He looked down, flipping up part of his beard to consider it for a moment. "Lotta beard, here."
Legolas nodded and Gimli thought he heard a tiny squeal of delight.
"Very well, but start from underneath. Don't want anyone getting funny ideas about us."
Again, Legolas nodded. "I'll just go get my comb," with that, he dashed off, leaving Gimli to chuckle and get comfrotable. He knew he would be there a while, and was thankful the company had decided to take a day to rest.
After all, Dwarven beard groomig was serious business.