Through Elven Eyes
by SkyFire
For disclaimer, see part 1.
A/N: 1)Takes place the same morning, not long after the ending of the last part. *g*
2)Now serving: a bit of angst, a bit of sap, hardly any plot movement. Leave a review and add
your thoughts to stir this fic on! *g*
Please, don't forget to review, okay? My plotbunnies live for it! *g*
*****
Through Elven Eyes
by SkyFire
Part 2
"Where is that Elf?" Gimli grumbled.
He sat on his couch in the early morning, blankets modestly covering his lower half as he waited
for Legolas to return from his self-imposed errand. He could not help but watch with a certain
morbid fascination the slim hands that knotted in his blankets; hands that were attached to long,
pale arms. Hands and arms that *he* controlled, yet still the limbs of a stranger. His and
not-his all at the same time.
He lifted a smooth hand to his face, brushing back strands of the shining curtain his hair had
become, cursing in annoyed pain as his fingers caught yet again on the sensitive ear-point.
"Where is that Elf?" he asked again.
Even distracted as he was, he had seen the Sun rise in Lothlorien. The sheer beauty of it had
struck something newly awakened deep inside of him more than any other sunrise he had ever seen.
First, there was the paling darkness as the dim gray light of the false-dawn grew, ever so slowly
gaining first the warm golden tones, the faint hints of reds and firey oranges as the Sun
prepared to rise. Then, at last, the Sun cast her firey eyes over the horizon, sending her first
rays over the land to dance on dewy grass, silvery mallorn trunks and making gilded leaves shine
and sparkle in her light.
"I am here," said Legolas simply as he returned to the pavilion, arms laden with bundles of cloth.
He set the lot down beside the former dwarf. "New clothing for your stay in Lothlorien," he said.
Gimli sifted through the soft Elven-clothes, saw them all in the shades of gray or green-gray
that the Galadhrim wore. "Hmph," he said disparagingly. But still, he took up some of the
clothes and quickly dressed, feeling shaken once again by the sight of the too-long limbs that
were now his. The Elf-woven cloth felt good against skin more sensitive to such things than
before.
"Are the clothes to your liking?" Legolas asked as Gimli, dressed, pulled on light Elven shoes.
Gimli looked up, hair once more falling into his face as he did. "Yes," he said shortly.
"Though I dislike the whole situation." He brushed back his hair with a swift, annoyed gesture,
once again accidentally catching on his pointed ear. Dwarven curses fell bountifully from smooth
Elven lips to fill the air of the pavillion.
Legolas said nothing, merely waited for the storm to pass.
At last, the curses trailed off. Gimli looked to the Mirkwood Elf. He frowned. Then he looked
to the Elves of Lorien visible from where he now stood. He looked back to Legolas. "Both you
and they wear the hair back from the face and braided. Is this why?" he asked gruffly.
"Partly," came the calm reply. "Mostly it is simply to keep it out of the face." He looked to
the former dwarf. Hesitantly, unsure of how it would be recieved, he offered, "I could fix your
hair for you if you wish."
"The day Gimli son of Gloin needs help with his hair from an Elf will be a dark one indeed!" came
the indignant reply. He grabbed up a hairbrush that lay nearby, started pulling it roughly
through his hair. One stroke. "Ow!" Another. "Ouch!" Stroke. "Durin's blood!" Stroke.
"Argh!"
At last, seven strokes later and hair in even worse shape than before, Gimli looked up at
Legolas, who still stood there nearby. He looked quickly around the pavilion for witnesses, saw
it empty of all persons save for the two of them. Reluctantly, he held out the brush to the
other Elf.
"Legolas," he said gruffly, hesitant and embarrassed at having to even *think* of asking. "Could
you...? Help me?"
Legolas smiled softly, taking the offered brush. "Of course," he said, then began to carefully
brush and braid the other's hair.
Despite the once-dwarf's words, the day was beginning to show promise of being an unseasonably
fine one.
TBC...
So, what do you think? Let me know! Please?? *g* My plotbunnies would like to get at least 10
reviews before they decide to think about another chapter. Let me know what you'd like to see
happen! Plotbunnies don't mind the help! *g* Click the button!
by SkyFire
For disclaimer, see part 1.
A/N: 1)Takes place the same morning, not long after the ending of the last part. *g*
2)Now serving: a bit of angst, a bit of sap, hardly any plot movement. Leave a review and add
your thoughts to stir this fic on! *g*
Please, don't forget to review, okay? My plotbunnies live for it! *g*
*****
Through Elven Eyes
by SkyFire
Part 2
"Where is that Elf?" Gimli grumbled.
He sat on his couch in the early morning, blankets modestly covering his lower half as he waited
for Legolas to return from his self-imposed errand. He could not help but watch with a certain
morbid fascination the slim hands that knotted in his blankets; hands that were attached to long,
pale arms. Hands and arms that *he* controlled, yet still the limbs of a stranger. His and
not-his all at the same time.
He lifted a smooth hand to his face, brushing back strands of the shining curtain his hair had
become, cursing in annoyed pain as his fingers caught yet again on the sensitive ear-point.
"Where is that Elf?" he asked again.
Even distracted as he was, he had seen the Sun rise in Lothlorien. The sheer beauty of it had
struck something newly awakened deep inside of him more than any other sunrise he had ever seen.
First, there was the paling darkness as the dim gray light of the false-dawn grew, ever so slowly
gaining first the warm golden tones, the faint hints of reds and firey oranges as the Sun
prepared to rise. Then, at last, the Sun cast her firey eyes over the horizon, sending her first
rays over the land to dance on dewy grass, silvery mallorn trunks and making gilded leaves shine
and sparkle in her light.
"I am here," said Legolas simply as he returned to the pavilion, arms laden with bundles of cloth.
He set the lot down beside the former dwarf. "New clothing for your stay in Lothlorien," he said.
Gimli sifted through the soft Elven-clothes, saw them all in the shades of gray or green-gray
that the Galadhrim wore. "Hmph," he said disparagingly. But still, he took up some of the
clothes and quickly dressed, feeling shaken once again by the sight of the too-long limbs that
were now his. The Elf-woven cloth felt good against skin more sensitive to such things than
before.
"Are the clothes to your liking?" Legolas asked as Gimli, dressed, pulled on light Elven shoes.
Gimli looked up, hair once more falling into his face as he did. "Yes," he said shortly.
"Though I dislike the whole situation." He brushed back his hair with a swift, annoyed gesture,
once again accidentally catching on his pointed ear. Dwarven curses fell bountifully from smooth
Elven lips to fill the air of the pavillion.
Legolas said nothing, merely waited for the storm to pass.
At last, the curses trailed off. Gimli looked to the Mirkwood Elf. He frowned. Then he looked
to the Elves of Lorien visible from where he now stood. He looked back to Legolas. "Both you
and they wear the hair back from the face and braided. Is this why?" he asked gruffly.
"Partly," came the calm reply. "Mostly it is simply to keep it out of the face." He looked to
the former dwarf. Hesitantly, unsure of how it would be recieved, he offered, "I could fix your
hair for you if you wish."
"The day Gimli son of Gloin needs help with his hair from an Elf will be a dark one indeed!" came
the indignant reply. He grabbed up a hairbrush that lay nearby, started pulling it roughly
through his hair. One stroke. "Ow!" Another. "Ouch!" Stroke. "Durin's blood!" Stroke.
"Argh!"
At last, seven strokes later and hair in even worse shape than before, Gimli looked up at
Legolas, who still stood there nearby. He looked quickly around the pavilion for witnesses, saw
it empty of all persons save for the two of them. Reluctantly, he held out the brush to the
other Elf.
"Legolas," he said gruffly, hesitant and embarrassed at having to even *think* of asking. "Could
you...? Help me?"
Legolas smiled softly, taking the offered brush. "Of course," he said, then began to carefully
brush and braid the other's hair.
Despite the once-dwarf's words, the day was beginning to show promise of being an unseasonably
fine one.
TBC...
So, what do you think? Let me know! Please?? *g* My plotbunnies would like to get at least 10
reviews before they decide to think about another chapter. Let me know what you'd like to see
happen! Plotbunnies don't mind the help! *g* Click the button!