It took a few weeks later before Thranduil finally admitted to himself that he was in an intolerable situation and, strangely enough, it wasn't the one he expected to be in. As he'd been supervising the move of his possessions from Ithilien to the city, he'd believed wholeheartedly that by this time he'd have been forced to subdue his son's husband's blathering many times over. However, that simply wasn't the case as Aragorn had been holding his tongue admirably and the two had developed an unspoken agreement to just let each other be.

In fact, his living situation was more than just tolerable; it was downright pleasant. It was a joy to witness Legolas putting on more weight to the point where his pregnancy was noticeable even when he didn't wear a snug tunic. The feeling was only augmented by the fact that, for the first time in four years, he was living with family again. Life in Ithilien could sometimes be lonely, especially as more and more of his people took the river Anduin to the sea and beyond. Forming and maintaining relationships with others was not easy for Thranduil, who'd lost so many people he loved. It was especially difficult now that he lived amongthe race of Men, who still regarded him with a mixture of awe and discomfort. It was just nice to feel needed again, to be able to do things such as fuss over his son's eating habits and the amount of rest he was getting without being receiving too much resistance. He was as happy as he could be living under the same room as the Man who'd slept with his baby.

No, the situation that Thranduil found so reprehensible wasn't something he wasn't prepared to deal with because, before, he'd never really considered it to be a possibility. Ai Elbereth, just five years earlier he would have thought the whole thing utterly absurd. But if that was the case, then why was he sulking around the stone yard, loitering amongst the piles of rocks that were waiting to be added to the various projects taking place in the city? The weeks of social isolation had taken their toll and he was finally forced to confront the reality of what was going on: he, Thranduil Oropherion missed the companionship of a dwarf.

How Mithrandir and Elrond would laugh if they could see him now! They'd spent countless years lecturing that all free folk should put aside their differences and work together for the common good and peace. It was a lofty ideal as far as he was concerned; one for people who didn't have a responsibility to any one land or with a ring-protected haven far away from the stronghold of the Enemy but undesirable and unobtainable for someone in his position, and he let them know that. Now he held a friendship that they'd championed and he'd resisted. While it didn't have its foundations in the good of all, it was based on something he considered to be equally important: his son, Legolas. Through their mutual concerns for his well being, Gimli had become a prominent part of the elf king's life without him even realizing it.

Thranduil sat down on a large boulder with a heavy sigh, toeing some pebbles in the dirt and feeling quite petulant for being an ages-old creature who should know better. 'He's not that important,' he argued to himself, knowing all the while that it wasn't true. Having Gimli to talk to about his love and concerns for Legolas, about his fear of losing him to death and knowing that would destroy him provided him with a most welcome release. Too often the people he shared such matters with either told him, as Mithrandir and Elrond did, that he was overreacting and that he couldn't change the way it would eventually have to be, or else nodded along with whatever he said, like most of his household staff. He had no need for advice or blind agreement when speaking about Legolas and Gimli offered neither of those. Instead, he listened, offered his own views, and understood why Thranduil felt the way he did. It was almost like having a parenting partner.

Perhaps that was the crux of it all; never before had Thranduil had anyone to fill that part, to help him bear the joys and grief that came along with being a parent. His beloved wife had been afflicted with sea-longing while pregnant and she'd considered taking the ship to the Undying Lands with the child still inside of her. Hehad beenmost hopeful when she decided to remain in Middle-earth long enough to give birth to Legolas, thinking that she would somehow change her mind about leaving altogether, but that wasn't to be. She'd placed the baby into his arms and departed almost immediately after the birth.

After she left, his devastation knew no bounds and he could only find solace and peace in the company of his son. Oh, many wise and nosy individuals urged him to employ a nanny but Thranduil steadfastly refused. It pained him beyond belief just to allow someone else to hold Legolas; how could he even consider letting someone else assist him with the raising his child? Even the thought of anyone but his wife doing such a thing was unbearable. Taking on the responsibility himself was both a burden and a delight,forging a father-son bond that the elven king wouldn't trade for all the jewels in the lands, but it was also incredibly lonely. His friendship with the dwarf offered him an unlooked for reprieve from that and Thranduil found himself loath to give it up.

He hadn't seen Gimli in a significant way since his father showed up on his doorstep and they'd unintentionally brought their decades-old grudges to the courtyard of the citadel. While Thranduil was not fond of Gloin by any means, he understood the importance of a son's relationship with his father and gave them the space for them to resolve any conflict that Gimli's friendships may have caused between them. As far as he was concerned, however, if that hadn't been accomplished by now then his presence probably wouldn't make much of a difference. It was time for him to reconnect with his friend.

Finding a way to do that without Gloin being nearby was not easy, but Thranduil was confident that the stone yard was the right location for that to take place. While the visiting dwarves were assisting in the building of several new walls, their current project – constructing a perimeter around Legolas' magnificent garden in Minas Tirith – was close to Gimli's heart and he insisted on selecting the perfect stones himself. On that day, it was only a matter of time before he came to find a suitable focal stone for the west-facing wall.

Gimli arrived alone, just as Thranduil predicted. "What are you doing here?" he asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable when he spied the elven king.

"Waiting for you," responded Thranduil. "I wish to speak with you."

"This probably isn't the best time for that," hedged Gimli, looking over his shoulder apprehensively. "We're all working very hard on this; I want this wall to be done before Legolas delivers the child. It – it will afford him some protection when he's walking about in that garden like he always insists on doing."

He turned to leave but Thranduil's words stopped him in his tracks. "I still count you among my friends, master dwarf," said the elf in a neutral tone. "If you no longer do the same, all I ask is that you do me the courtesy of informing me directly."

Gimli sat down next to him, feeling deflated. "It's not that," he insisted. "It's just that having my father here, well it…complicates matters. None of this was supposed to happen, as you very well know, and he had no warning of any of it. The last time I was in Father's presence was in Rivendell before the Fellowship set out, when I was bellowing 'never trust an elf' before the Council of Elrond. Becoming friends with Legolas came as a bit of a shock to me; becoming friends with you was an utterly ridiculous notion right up to the time it actually happened."

"But why does that matter?' stressed Thranduil. "You are well past the age of majority and quite capable of choosing your own friends. Why, I was just as stunned to discover that my son had befriended a dwarf; yet I did not fly into a rage and force the two of you to meet like thieves conspiring before they strike."

"Watch your tongue," warned Gimli, his eyes darkening a bit. "The circumstances are completely different. For one thing, you never had a personal grievance against me in particular."

Thranduil groaned with frustration. "Must we always return to that?" he demanded. "It was one moth that occurred decades ago! So much has happened since then among all of our peoples."

"Dwarves have long memories and hold tightly to grudges."

"The stubbornness of it all!" vented Thranduil, exasperated. "I will concede that wrong decisions were made on all accounts, but the Shadow was lurking in our woods. It was my responsibility to keep my people safe from all and I would not have given anyone – elf, Man, dwarf, or hobbit – the benefit of the doubt if I knew that they were withholding information."

After regarding him for a long moment, Gimli asked, "Would you be willing to say that to Father and do him the courtesy of listening to his view on the whole affair?"

"Would he even grant me an audience if I agreed?" shot back Thranduil in a huff. "Or return an apology and explanation if given one by me?"

The dwarf was silent and Thranduil wondered if he'd been too candid. He opened his mouth to offer his regrets when Gimli suddenly gave a belly-shaking guffaw. "Stubbornness is a trait that dwarves and elves seem to share," he commented. "It is no wonder that our races have refused to reach an understanding." His face grew serious as a long-cherished memory came to mind. "Do you know how Legolas and I first came to be friends?"

"All he told me was that you two were able to put aside your prejudices in Lothlorien."

"He apologized to me." Gimli smiled as he remembered Legolas' breathless and hurried words under the mallorn tree that first night in the land of the Lady. "Poor lad; he must have almost choked on all the pride he had to swallow in order to get all of that out, but he still managed. Legolas realized that he was being unfair inhisanger at me for Mithrandir's death and for refusing to be the only member of the Fellowship blindfolded by the marchwarden and said he was sorry for it all."

A sad smile flitted over Thranduil's lips. "That sounds like something his mother would do."

"He didn't expect me to return any such sentiment either," continued Gimli. "It was a selfless gesture and I remember thinking at first that my kinsmen would laugh to see a contrite elf. That thought, and the second of smugness that it afforded, made me feel guilty; that's when I realized that the responsibility of the conflict between our two races did not lay solely on the elves, for such sincerity should never be returned with scorn. That was why I acknowledged that our situations could have easily been reversed had we come to a dwarvish land after losing a friend in an elvish realm. From that point on, I was able to look upon Legolas and only see him; not just an elf or the son of the Elvenking who'd imprisoned my father, just Legolas."

"And I am happy for it, as he needed you on that journey,"said Thranduil softly. "But if you are implying that your father and I can come to a similar understanding, I feel I must remind you that we are not on a quest to save Middle-earth. Such an agreement may not be possible."

"True," conceded Gimli, "and you two don't have to become as good of friends as Legolas and I, or you and I for that matter. I'd gladly settle for tolerating each other's existence – and I'm afraid that it will fall on you to take that first step."

"Legolas misses you," said Thranduil suddenly. "I am well aware that you visit with him at the receptions and feasts held for the delegations and he understands that your father occupies a great deal of your time, but he still needs you. He is attempting to take it easy, but Aragorn cannot always be with him, Faramir and Eowyn have their own family to attend to, and hobbits are not expected to return from their journey to the Cross Roads until tomorrow and it is difficult for him."

Gimli's heart twisted. "Merry and Pippin were going on and on about how they got to feel the baby kick," he noted, jealousy creeping into his voice.

"He needs all the support that is available to him," Thranduil informed him. "It is just made worse by the fact that it is the counselors to the king, and not his own friends, that he has had the most contact with as of late."

"Is he still insisting on subjecting himself to those infernal advisors' council meetings?" Gimli demanded, snorting when the elf nodded in the affirmative. "Foolish elf; why must he always put himself in such stressful situations? I know – he never told me, but I know – that a few of those pompous advisors made him miserable, telling him that he should encourage Aragorn to take a mistress in order to produce an heir or some nonsense like that. I should have taken my axe to the lot of them!"

"The meetings are improving, at least according to his recount," said Thranduil, though his tone showed that he clearly doubted that. "I grow uneasy every time he attends one. That is where he is at right now; putting himself and his child through all of that stress and resentment. How I fear for him, Gimli! Not only is he enduring the normal side effects that this kind of pregnancy brings, but also the scrutiny of almost everyone that comes in his path. Thanks to some healer he is already nervous about his food intake. What if – what if – I cannot help feeling as if all of this is putting his life in jeopardy."

"Legolas has an enormous amount of strength, power, and courage," declared Gimli, placing a comforting hand on Thranduil's arm. "You'd be amazed at what he can live through if he has to. He's not alone all the time either; that's why you're here, and why I'm going to be there. The council should be over by lunch time, correct?"

"Yes."

Gimli nodded resolutely. "I'll be joining you and Legolas for lunch, then," he decided. "Father can keep busy with the other delegates; I have neglected my life outside of him for far too long."

Thranduil smiled down at the hand. "I am glad to hear that," he told him. "For I believe I need your friendship and support just as much as my son does."

"What's taking you so long? I doubt an elf will be able to even appreciate the beautiful stones in this wall," Gloin's gruff voice sounded. The old dwarf froze, his eyes narrowing when he spotted his son sitting with Thranduil. "What's wrong with you? Abandoning your own kind and good dwarvish work to prattle on with this –"

"I shall take up no more of your time," interrupted Thranduil before Gloin said anything that his pride would force him to respond to. He was determined not to lose another friend if he could prevent such an occurrence; a verbal sparring might swell his ego, but he was no longer willing to risk Gimli's friendship for it. Rising to his feet, he continued, "Thank you for listening, Gimli son of Gloin."

"Likewise." Thranduil turned and started to walk away when Gimli called out after him: "I'll see you and Legolas for lunch at noon."

Dwarvish yells in two voices sprang up behind him, but the elven king continued on, glad that he didn't understand that particular language when it was being spoken so quickly. The reconciliation of sorts with his friend had lifted his spirits immensely. Now all he could hope for was that it would do the same for Legolas and help soothe the fears that were plaguing both of them.

To be continued…

A/N: We'll get back to Legolas and Aragorn (or at least one of them…) in the next chapter, I promise!