Hello everybody! I am back in town :-)…
It was a great thing to return home and find all these reviews waiting for me, even
some for my older stories… thanks to all of you!
A short chapter for all of you waiting so patiently for another update.
Thanks to Little My for beta reading again!!!
And do not forget to tell me if you like it!
___
When Gimli woke again, he found himself alone in the room. Carefully he moved and
found his arm still tender, but far better than before. With the pain gone he decided
he was well enough to get up, and to his relief he found his belongings had been
brought here.
Dressing himself took a bit longer than usual but as no one would ever know, it did
not dampen the dwarf's good mood.
Stepping out of the House of Healing, Gimli stopped for a moment to light his pipe
and with a contented look on his face, he started to slowly walk the path then would
lead him towards the castle.
He had not taken more than a few steps when he halted again, listening. A frown
appeared on Gimli's face when he heard it again--snatches of a song. The voice he
knew very well, but it was the sadness of the tune that made him follow in the
direction of where it seemed to come from. He found a small path, leading away from
the main street into the greens surrounding the House of Healing. The song became
clearer and the dwarf stopped, trying to see the singer. It was obvious that the voice
came from somewhere above, but try as he might, he could not make out anything.
'I know not why I even care,' he mumbled to himself 'That crazy elf could at least stay
down here where I might find him when one of his fancy moods overcomes him.'
'You know not of what you speak.'
The voice coming from behind was unexpected, and Gimli almost dropped his pipe in
surprise. Whirling around he faced the speaker, recognizing him as one of Elrond's
sons. The dark haired elf held a strange expression on his face; a mixture of sorrow
and annoyance. But his voice remained soft as he spoke on.
'The song of the gulls tears at his heart, son of Gloin. This is naught a mortal can
ever understand, a longing so strong that it overwhelms the one stricken with it.'
Gimli had known, from the moment he had heard the first snatch of Legolas' voice on
the air, that the sea longing had taken hold of him once more. It did not happen often,
and usually the elf was able to fight it ere it took him over completely. But it seemed
that this time he had not been able to do so. The indication that he would not know
what it was that ailed his friend caused a burst of anger in Gimli. He gave the elf in
front of him a tight smile.
'I know well what it is that ails him. I claim not to understand it, but I know how badly
it affects Legolas.'
The dark haired elf sighed and his eyes softened.
'My apologies, Gimli, I should have known that you would know about it.'
Having caught a look at the elf's hands, Gimli now knew which one of the twins he
was talking to. It had taken him a long time to find something to tell them apart, until
he found out that Elrohir always wore a ring on his left hand.
'There is nothing to apologize for,' he mumbled. The elf did not speak again, and all
that could be heard for a few moments was the sad tune of the song.
'I would like to thank you for your help. It seems that I owe you much,'' Gimli finally
spoke. Aragorn had confessed that his own healing abilities had not been enough to
keep the dwarf alive. He had not spoken further of this, reluctant to share the whole
story with Gimli. But the dwarf knew Elrohir to have the gift of healing, as he had
seen him use it before. So the conclusion was easy to make, and the dwarf felt the
need to express his gratitude.
For a moment, the elf only looked at him with a strange expression in his eyes. Then
he shook his head.
'I cannot accept this, friend Gimli, for it was not I that helped with healing you.'
Surprise registered on the dwarf's face.
Gesturing upwards, Elrohir added, 'It was Legolas.'
'But how? I knew him not to possess any healing powers.'
'It is a gift that runs in the bloodline. Legolas' mother is a healer, and so all her
children inherited some of her powers. Legolas only possesses a small measure of it,
and has never been trained in using them. But this is the reason he was able to help
you when I could not.'
Seeing confusion on Gimli's face, Elrohir paused for a moment, considering how
much he should tell the dwarf. It was obvious that no one had told him what had truly
transpired. But the dwarf's curiosity had been piqued, and he would not be satisfied
without knowing the whole story.
'You speak in riddles, as it seems all elves like to do. Why would Legolas be able to
heal me when you could not?'
With a sigh, Elrohir gave in.
'To heal someone, a connection is needed where the strength of body and soul can
be shared. A healer is trained to close himself up if it becomes a danger to himself,
and this training takes over if too much is asked of him.'
'But Legolas is not trained…'
A memory surfaced of Legolas, sleeping in a chair at his bedside with his eyes
closed, a sign of deep exhaustion. Gimli did not need to ask any further to
understand what had happened. Still he wished to confirm his thoughts.
'I was close to death then?'
The elf shrugged.
'There would have been a way to save you, but Legolas thought you would prefer
death to living like this.'
The elf's eyes had come to rest on the arm Gimli still favored, and the dwarf could
feel a shudder go through him as the meaning of the words became clear to him.
'And he was right,' he whispered hoarsely. The realization of what could have been
made him feel sick.
'He knows you well then.'
'Aye, this he does, it seems,' Gimli answered with a soft smile, and his eyes once
more turned to search for the elf hiding somewhere above them.
A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he turned to look into the gray eyes.
'It has drained him of much of his strength and even if he appears recovered now, it
will take some time. For someone without any training, it was folly to do what he did.'
There was no doubt of the meaning in these words, and Gimli's heart clenched as he
realized fully the risk Legolas had taken.
'He has been up there for hours now. I can show you, but I fear you will not be able
to reach him.'
'Show me,' the dwarf answered simply.
@@@
He was lost in a world he could not control, his emotions whirling around him. He
could hear the cry of gulls, and if he took a deep breath he could taste the smell of
the sea. It called to him and he found not the strength to resist it.
Looking up, Gimli could make out the figure seated on the highest spot, overlooking
the whole city. Elrohir had silently disappeared.
'Legolas?'
He had not expected an answer and he received none. The elf was lost in thought,
and remembering earlier incidents, he could remain like this for some time.
So the dwarf found a comfortable spot on the ground to settle down, and lit his pipe
once more. The rays of the sun warmed him as he watched the still form of his friend.
He remained there, blowing smoke rings, even trying but failing to form more
complicated patterns the way Gandalf did, until the soft sound of Legolas' song and
the warmth of the sun lulled him to sleep.
It was a great thing to return home and find all these reviews waiting for me, even
some for my older stories… thanks to all of you!
A short chapter for all of you waiting so patiently for another update.
Thanks to Little My for beta reading again!!!
And do not forget to tell me if you like it!
___
When Gimli woke again, he found himself alone in the room. Carefully he moved and
found his arm still tender, but far better than before. With the pain gone he decided
he was well enough to get up, and to his relief he found his belongings had been
brought here.
Dressing himself took a bit longer than usual but as no one would ever know, it did
not dampen the dwarf's good mood.
Stepping out of the House of Healing, Gimli stopped for a moment to light his pipe
and with a contented look on his face, he started to slowly walk the path then would
lead him towards the castle.
He had not taken more than a few steps when he halted again, listening. A frown
appeared on Gimli's face when he heard it again--snatches of a song. The voice he
knew very well, but it was the sadness of the tune that made him follow in the
direction of where it seemed to come from. He found a small path, leading away from
the main street into the greens surrounding the House of Healing. The song became
clearer and the dwarf stopped, trying to see the singer. It was obvious that the voice
came from somewhere above, but try as he might, he could not make out anything.
'I know not why I even care,' he mumbled to himself 'That crazy elf could at least stay
down here where I might find him when one of his fancy moods overcomes him.'
'You know not of what you speak.'
The voice coming from behind was unexpected, and Gimli almost dropped his pipe in
surprise. Whirling around he faced the speaker, recognizing him as one of Elrond's
sons. The dark haired elf held a strange expression on his face; a mixture of sorrow
and annoyance. But his voice remained soft as he spoke on.
'The song of the gulls tears at his heart, son of Gloin. This is naught a mortal can
ever understand, a longing so strong that it overwhelms the one stricken with it.'
Gimli had known, from the moment he had heard the first snatch of Legolas' voice on
the air, that the sea longing had taken hold of him once more. It did not happen often,
and usually the elf was able to fight it ere it took him over completely. But it seemed
that this time he had not been able to do so. The indication that he would not know
what it was that ailed his friend caused a burst of anger in Gimli. He gave the elf in
front of him a tight smile.
'I know well what it is that ails him. I claim not to understand it, but I know how badly
it affects Legolas.'
The dark haired elf sighed and his eyes softened.
'My apologies, Gimli, I should have known that you would know about it.'
Having caught a look at the elf's hands, Gimli now knew which one of the twins he
was talking to. It had taken him a long time to find something to tell them apart, until
he found out that Elrohir always wore a ring on his left hand.
'There is nothing to apologize for,' he mumbled. The elf did not speak again, and all
that could be heard for a few moments was the sad tune of the song.
'I would like to thank you for your help. It seems that I owe you much,'' Gimli finally
spoke. Aragorn had confessed that his own healing abilities had not been enough to
keep the dwarf alive. He had not spoken further of this, reluctant to share the whole
story with Gimli. But the dwarf knew Elrohir to have the gift of healing, as he had
seen him use it before. So the conclusion was easy to make, and the dwarf felt the
need to express his gratitude.
For a moment, the elf only looked at him with a strange expression in his eyes. Then
he shook his head.
'I cannot accept this, friend Gimli, for it was not I that helped with healing you.'
Surprise registered on the dwarf's face.
Gesturing upwards, Elrohir added, 'It was Legolas.'
'But how? I knew him not to possess any healing powers.'
'It is a gift that runs in the bloodline. Legolas' mother is a healer, and so all her
children inherited some of her powers. Legolas only possesses a small measure of it,
and has never been trained in using them. But this is the reason he was able to help
you when I could not.'
Seeing confusion on Gimli's face, Elrohir paused for a moment, considering how
much he should tell the dwarf. It was obvious that no one had told him what had truly
transpired. But the dwarf's curiosity had been piqued, and he would not be satisfied
without knowing the whole story.
'You speak in riddles, as it seems all elves like to do. Why would Legolas be able to
heal me when you could not?'
With a sigh, Elrohir gave in.
'To heal someone, a connection is needed where the strength of body and soul can
be shared. A healer is trained to close himself up if it becomes a danger to himself,
and this training takes over if too much is asked of him.'
'But Legolas is not trained…'
A memory surfaced of Legolas, sleeping in a chair at his bedside with his eyes
closed, a sign of deep exhaustion. Gimli did not need to ask any further to
understand what had happened. Still he wished to confirm his thoughts.
'I was close to death then?'
The elf shrugged.
'There would have been a way to save you, but Legolas thought you would prefer
death to living like this.'
The elf's eyes had come to rest on the arm Gimli still favored, and the dwarf could
feel a shudder go through him as the meaning of the words became clear to him.
'And he was right,' he whispered hoarsely. The realization of what could have been
made him feel sick.
'He knows you well then.'
'Aye, this he does, it seems,' Gimli answered with a soft smile, and his eyes once
more turned to search for the elf hiding somewhere above them.
A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he turned to look into the gray eyes.
'It has drained him of much of his strength and even if he appears recovered now, it
will take some time. For someone without any training, it was folly to do what he did.'
There was no doubt of the meaning in these words, and Gimli's heart clenched as he
realized fully the risk Legolas had taken.
'He has been up there for hours now. I can show you, but I fear you will not be able
to reach him.'
'Show me,' the dwarf answered simply.
@@@
He was lost in a world he could not control, his emotions whirling around him. He
could hear the cry of gulls, and if he took a deep breath he could taste the smell of
the sea. It called to him and he found not the strength to resist it.
Looking up, Gimli could make out the figure seated on the highest spot, overlooking
the whole city. Elrohir had silently disappeared.
'Legolas?'
He had not expected an answer and he received none. The elf was lost in thought,
and remembering earlier incidents, he could remain like this for some time.
So the dwarf found a comfortable spot on the ground to settle down, and lit his pipe
once more. The rays of the sun warmed him as he watched the still form of his friend.
He remained there, blowing smoke rings, even trying but failing to form more
complicated patterns the way Gandalf did, until the soft sound of Legolas' song and
the warmth of the sun lulled him to sleep.