For a long time Legolas was aware of nothing outside of his pain. Curled up into a form as small as possible, he knew only his agony, his abandonment.
What he done to deserve this fate? To be left behind by everyone he had ever loved? His life seemed to him a slow but steady procession of loss. One after the other had gone on. He had put on a brave face. He was young. Life would offer compensation. Middle-earth had much still to discover and enjoy. But deep inside, hidden even from himself for the most part, the pain had been accumulating constantly. And weakened by the Sea-longing, which had taken his greatest strength, his grounding, poisoned his roots among the trees of Middle-earth, the last hundred years had taken their toll. Loving mortals demanded a high price. Gimli's loss had filled the cup to overflowing. He had tried to ready himself for its eventual occurrence, but nothing, nothing, could truly have prepared him for the reality of it...
He knew not how much time passed, nor did it matter whether he lay there for weeks or years. He did not think once of looking after the ship, of taking over the helm. He did not care to check the course.
Even the Sea... the sea he had longed for, which had tormented him for years and years, tried to seduce him away... it had not the power to move him.
But then something seemed to break through his isolation. His keen senses became aware of it before his mind truly registered the intrusion. At first he did not understand the meaning, but when his thoughts caught up to his ears, his heart threatened to leap from his chest. Then it stopped. For a very short moment there was fierce joy. But before the thought of 'I am not alone!' had truly formed, he felt nothing but terror.
He had believed there was no way for his fear to be increased, but he had been wrong. Because the slow and slightly irregular 'thump, thump' he was hearing could only be one thing...
"Gimli..." His breath hitched. The sound of steps had gradually become closer, and now it stopped right next to him. "Oh... what have you done?"
He could not look. He dared not! Maybe it was a product of his fevered mind. If he stayed right where he was and did not move, perhaps it would all just vanish like a puff of smoke.
Then he sensed motion, and the next thing he felt were the strong arms of his friend embracing him, lifting him from the ground and against a broad chest. Gimli buried his face in the Elf's hair and held him tight. It was not a dream then. His nightmare was real: Gimli had done the unthinkable.... Legolas shivered. They were doomed.
They stayed like that for a long time, Legolas seemingly unable to stop trembling, while his friend wept against his hair.
Slowly, very slowly, Legolas ceased to shake like a leaf. But then the anger rose. "Why?" he whispered harshly.
If possible, Gimli's embrace became even tighter. "Forgive me!"
"Tell me why!!"
"You had to leave. Your time in Middle-earth had run out. I did not wish to deceive you. I hate myself for what I have done to you. But I was desperate, Legolas! I could not bear--"
"Nay, Gimli! Why are you here?!?" There was no answer at first.
Legolas was still in Gimli's arms. He did not know whether he wished to look upon his friend's face. He was not sure he could... without doing something violent...
"I had not the heart to leave you, to let you go," said Gimli at last.
"So you sail with me, and thus damn us? Are you mad? No, do not answer!" Anger or no, Legolas could not remain still. He sat up, glaring at Gimli. "Has your age addled your brain? Have you forgotten that you are a Dwarf? You cannot enter the blessed realm! The wrath of the Valar will strike us!"
"I won't set foot upon the shores of Valinor without their leave. They will not deny you. You did nothing wrong. And I will not give them any reason to punish you."
"What about your punishment? They may send you to the Halls, without a by your leave!" Legolas was aware that his voice had taken on a rather shrill note, quiet unbecoming an Elf, but he was unable to hold himself together.
"Legolas. I have already lived a full Dwarven life. A life that was richer, happier and more blessed than that of many others. I have nothing to lose!"
"Nothing to lose?!? Gimli, we could have had some more time. How could you take that away from me?" His voice broke. "I did not think you so cruel."
Gimli paled. "Cruel?" he asked and looked to the side, far away for a moment. "Maybe I am. I am certainly not proud of my behaviour, of my deception. But I believe in lancing a wound, not letting it fester and rot..."
"Some more years, Gimli!" Legolas interrupted him. "It would not have killed me. I promised you, Gimli! Have you forgotten? I promised I would not let myself go so far to risk my life."
"Some years?? Look at me, Legolas! I am not much aged." Gimli pulled at his beard. "By rights my hair should be white, my body frail. I should be lying in a soft bed, waiting out the remaining days. But again and again you have poured down my throat so much of that blasted Ent-draught, that I know not how many years you have added to my life! You had not the time to wait me out. You were fading! Whether you will admit it or not. Your stubbornness will not make it any less true. These last years were simply too much. That does not make you weak! And I was not the only one noticing!" Gimli's eyes widened as if he had not meant to say these last words.
Narrowing his own eyes at this, Legolas said: "Eldarion. Was he in on this?"
"No. He happened upon us by chance. But then he did help me reach the river..."
"I see," said Legolas.
Gimli looked as if he was not so sure, but did not question him. As far as Legolas was concerned, the particulars of what the Dwarf had done and who had helped him could wait. Right now he was concerned with Gimli. Gimli, who had deceived him, violated him -- poisoned him. Who was throwing away his life, because he did not trust in Legolas' strength. His hands twitched, betraying his desire to punch the Dwarf, unleash his fury upon him. He was overwhelmed by the torrent of feelings assaulting him.
Legolas opened his mouth to somehow convey this jumble of despair, anger, loss and disappointment. What came out was: "I thought you loved me." And as soon as the words had left his lips he wished to take them back -- to reach out, grab them and stuff them back down his throat. Oh Elbereth! Gimli had gone as grey as the stone Dwarves were rumoured to have sprung from.
Slowly Gimli climbed to his feet, and as Legolas watched him, his friend, for the first time since he knew him, seemed to look his age. The Dwarf stared at him, the constant fire in his eyes subdued. "I do," he whispered. "It does not mean I will always do as you wish. On the contrary. It means I will do as you need."
He moved as if to turn away, yet Legolas had regained some of his wits. Quick as lightning he moved and threw his arms around the Dwarf's middle. Pressing his face into Gimli's tunic, he held on for all he was worth. "Forgive me!"
For a moment Gimli was frozen still, but then he heaved a great sigh and patted Legolas' hands reconcilingly. "I ought to be the one to apologise for all I have put you through."
"But why?" Legolas cried. "I do not understand how you can risk everything."
"There is no risk, Legolas. It is....," he struggled for words. "I feel... that this is right. Aye, it is the right path." He calmed then. "Legolas. Have you even looked around us? Come on, look up! Look at the sea!"
The Sea... He looked up.
TBC