Title: Elvellon and Mílellon
Author: Lady Jet
Author's E-Mail: lady. Legolas/Gimli
Rating: PG-13
Summery: Based on the Plot Bunny by rainydayman "I am looking for a story in which Gimli is turned into a beautiful elf (like-rivaling-Galadriel-beautiful), much to his horror, as he travels to Mirkwood to visit Legolas. Legolas is drawn to him right from the start and unabashedly tries to court him (hence chases after the poor soul with elvish persistence). Gimli, while residing with the elves, refuses to tell them who he really is out of embarrassment and has to make up a story accounting for why they have never heard of him. He also has to acclimate himself to elvish customs, trying not to give himself away while sometimes slipping accidentally into his own native customs. Any embarrassing situations arising from that would be appreciated. By the end Gimli is turned back to his original form, but Legolas' affections still remain true."
Disclaimer: I own only Nethalas and Adatel. Legolas and Gimli and even this idea are owned by Tolkien and rainydayman respectively.
Chapter one: Distorted Mirror
"Why are you going to see that damned elf, Gimli?" Gloín looked at his son as he packed his things. Gimli rolled his eyes and sighed deeply.
"He's not a damned elf, father, he's my friend. Besides," Gimli hefted his heavy pack onto his back and turned to his father; an axe at his side in case of trouble on the road. "Legolas wishes my company for a few days. I'll probably be back before the end of the month." Gloín glared at his son and sighed.
"Very well, if that's what you wish. I'd rather you didn't become friends with that Thranduil's son. You're a dwarf, not some elf's friend." Gimli glared a bit at his father.
"That title was given to me, Father, frankly I no longer see a reason to hate Thranduil and his family any longer. Now, I'd best be going, I'll see you in a few weeks." With that Gimli left the constant racket of the Lonely Mountain mines and homes, and eagerly headed for the dark forest of the Mirkwood elves.
Gimli walked along the path quietly, enjoying leaving the bustling and growing dwarfish city under the mountain and heading for the peace of the elves. Looking back to the first time he saw Legolas and his brothers riding towards Rivendell, he could have never imagined that he would become such close friends with the fair elf. He laughed quietly to himself and shook his head. It was during the fellowship's trek through Moria that Gimli had taken notice of Legolas and began their friendship. He still remembered the slight sting on his chin from Legolas saving his life while fleeing from the orcs. Gimli stroked his beard in thought and then froze looking around, his ears, though not as sensitive as an elf's, picking up a faint voice.
"Who's there!" he called out, his hand on his axe. It was still known that dangers lay in wait on roads even in the days after the successful defeat of the Dark Lord. The voice continued raising in power. Gimli spun around and tried to keep his wits about him; yet as the voice continued he felt strange and faint. Finally Gimli passed out in the outskirts of Mirkwood.
"Oh...what was in that ale last night?" Gimli groaned and slowly sat up. He winched and rubbed his head, hoping the pain would soon pass. Gimli shook his head and blinked, feeling his hair gently brush his chin, which was odd because he could never feel hair on his chin except for his beard. He quickly flung his hand up to his chin, feeling the clean smooth surface. Odd for two reasons, even if shaved a dwarf's chin would not be smooth but stubbled and even his hands felt smooth. Perplexed Gimli looked down at his hands, finding them slender and without the scars that had been their since childhood. He felt his heart race and he looked at his clothing. His breaches and boots were replaced by leggings and high boots of elvish make, similar to that of Legolas' during the Fellowship.
"What in the name of the Valar is going on?" Gimli stood up and suddenly found himself in a different perspective of the world. He was taller, MUCH taller; the height of any man or elf in fact. He spun around in horror looking at his shirt, of similar make to the riding clothes Legolas had worn, and seeing his chestnut red hair long and wavy, no longer in the ties of a braid or ponytail as it normally was. As he reached for his axe at his side, he thanked the Valar it was still there, he saw a stream one hundred yards away. With elvish eyes as well as ears he heard voices, or more like whispers and songs from the trees and air, in languages that he could not understand. His eyes were able to pick out rocks, movement of the grass and details of even a running deer for hundreds of yards. Grabbing his pack he ran for the stream hoping to wake himself from the horror. He quickly went to his knees and looked into the clear reflective waters.
"No, Valar no!" His reflection was not of a dwarf, but of a handsome, even beautiful, elf. His rich chestnut hair without tangle or snarl, his brown eyes were now gray and full of the fear he felt. His face and skin were fair with only a slight color to them; and his once muscular arms and chest were all but gone. Taking his hands into the water he splashed his face hoping to wake up, but the distorted reflection was the same. He leaned back onto his heals and covered his face trying to make sense of the chaos.
"Post!" The call of the party of elves startled Gimli out of his thoughts. He looked up and swallowed. At least ten elves on horseback were coming his way, and had already seen him. He stood up, knowing too well that running would give him arrows in the back; their arrows cocked in the bows ready to fire.
"Eneth lín?" The leader of the group said to Gimli. He was fair, with elvish gray eyes and fair strawberry blond hair similar to that of Legolas'. Gimli could only guess they were from Mirkwood, their clothing and overall presence assured him that. As for what they wanted to know, Gimli didn't understand a word. After several minuets of silence the head elf spoke up again.
"Eneth lín?" His voice was becoming stern and losing patience.
"Your name?" he said after another long silence. Gimli swallowed, he could not tell them his real name, his pride and fear of embarrassment wouldn't allow it.
"I am Coeiond," Gimli quickly spout off. The riders looked at him curiously as he was still holding his axe and his pack was at his side. Gimli hoped he had pronounced it correctly; Legolas had only taught him that one word of Elvish, 'son of the earth' and figured it was as good of an elvish name as he could come up with.
"Coeiond is it? I have never heard of you. What is your business here in Mirkwood?" Gimli swallowed and thought quickly.
"I'm from an eastern tribe, not many have heard of us. News has come that one of the Mirkwood princes helped destroy the One Ring of Sauron. I was sent to give our good wishes and congratulations to him," Gimli said quickly; he was always the best story teller as a child and he was grateful he hadn't lost that talent.
"It seems my brother's tale has reached every corner of Middle Earth," the lead elf said with a proud smile.
"You are his brother?" Gimli asked, now seeing the resemblances between the two.
"Yes, his oldest brother, I am Adatel; this is Nethalas the second oldest son of King Thranduil." Adatel made a motion to an almost identical elf next to him; shorter and eyes the color of gray ice.
"It seems odd that an elf would be carrying an axe of Dwarfish make." Adatel glared slightly at Gimli as his brother spoke. Gimli fidgeted and swallowed.
"My...my bow was broken in my travels a Dwarf offered me his axe for protection." Gimli silently prayed to the Valar that the elves would buy his story. The two brothers spoke softly in elvish and nodded.
"Very well, we will take you to the caves; but don't wander far; the spiders aren't nearly as hospitable as we are." That said, the troop of elves turned back and headed farther into the woods. Gimli swallowed and hurried to catch up. As Gimli was escorted into the Kingdom of Thranduil he tried hard to pick up and understand what the two brothers were saying softly in elvish. He gave up soon after when the younger, Nethalas, began to eye him suspiciously. Gimli turned his head away, nervous of those penetrating eyes.
"I don't trust him brother," Nethalas spoke softly. Adatel nodded and glanced back.
"Neither do I. He isn't telling the truth about something. Whether it be who he really is, or his true intentions." Adatel rode on silently with his brother.
Wonderful, Gimli thought to himself. What else can go wrong today? Gimli frowned and continued to walk along, surrounded by the elves.
"Adatel! Nethalas!" Gimli glanced up at the familiar voice as the party reached the home of King Thranduil. There quickly heading down to greet his brothers was Legolas, in royal robes his hair tied back with braids.
"Legolas, good to see you're excited about tonight," Adatel quipped with a grin as he got off his horse. Legolas sighed and shook his head.
"You know how father has been lately, no doubt he's going to embarrass me. Anyway, is Gimli here yet?" Legolas looked into the crowd of elves and looked at Gimli. "Who...is that?" Gimli swallowed and fidgeted.
"Coeiond, we found him on the outskirts of our territory, he's from an eastern elf tribe; said he was sent to give congratulations to you," Nethalas said quietly. "We didn't see Gimli I'm afraid."
"That's all right." Legolas walked towards Gimli and smiled, his eyes locking onto Gimli's own. "Welcome to Mirkwood, Coeiond." Gimli nodded nervously.
"Thank you, Prince Legolas," Gimli said shyly, unsure of the look his friend was giving him.
"Come, tell me about yourself, Coeiond." Legolas gently held Gimli's hand with a smile that made he and Legolas' older brothers frown.
"He isn't..." muttered Adatel.
"He is," answered Nethalas his hand over his eyes. Legolas gently led Gimli into their home his eyes filled with only a few emotions; wonder, and love.
"It really isn't important. I only came to give my people's congratulations, then leave." Gimli pulled his hand away, fearful of what his friend from the war was doing.
"I would be honored if you would stay for our dinner tonight, though. Please, mellon, you are welcome here, and you seem weary." Legolas smiled and gently stroked Gimli's face, his fingers brushing over his elf ear. Gimli pulled away and frowned, he didn't want to be rude, but at the same time, he didn't exactly want to leave. While the other elves gave him nothing but the feel of being unwanted, Legolas, his dear friend, wanted nothing but for him to stay. Gimli frowned and nodded slowly.
"Very well. I shall stay."
"Thank you, Coeiond." Legolas smiled again and took Gimli's arm to guide him through the passages of his father's home.
It was later that night that the celebrations began for Legolas' successful return to Mirkwood. Gimli was given a seat next to Legolas near the front of the room. He felt all of the eyes on him and swallowed nervously. He listened quietly throughout the speeches and looked up as the King himself came into the room and locked eyes with him. Gimli felt a cold shiver go down his spine; King Thranduil didn't seem to like Gimli's being there.
"My dear friends," began Thranduil. "We are here tonight to celebrate my youngest son, Legolas, your prince, on his victory and hand in the freeing of all Middle Earth!" The crowd cheered as did Gimli. Next to him Legolas got up and bowed, his silky hair brushing gently over his shoulders.
"Thank you, Sire, everyone. I do not deserve this; I was only one part of this war, and hardly a main player. It was Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee who destroyed the ring; I and the others were their protectors." Everyone cheered at the prince's honest modesty. Even Gimli couldn't help but smile and chuckle at this new side of his friend.
"Gwador, tell us one of your stories about your contest with the dwarf!" called Nethalas, who was filling up his second cup of wine. Dinner was beginning to be served and Gimli hoped that the stories would be told, over a fresh cooked meal and good drink.
"All right, I shall tell you of Gimli son of Gloín. He is a stout dwarf, one worthy of respect with his axes and friendship." Gimli blinked and leaned forward a bit his head turned just slightly so that his chestnut red hair flowed over his shoulders, and looked at his good friend.
"A dwarf? Worthy of friendship from an elf? I highly doubt it. You must be drunk, brother," Adatel said with a smile. Gimli and Legolas both bristled slightly. Yet before Gimli could speak up, Legolas spoke.
"Gimli is a strong and noble warrior, he deserves all elves respect, and he has my friendship. I know not why he is not here tonight, but I wish not to speak in harsh tones. I shall tell you the story of our battle at Helms Deep." Gimli suppressed a hearty laugh, remembering that battle all too well. Legolas smiled and sat down to tell the tale; the entire hall excited. As the story progressed, Legolas would look to Gimli, his eyes reflecting his emotions. Gimli looked away not wanting what he was seeing.
"So I find him sitting upon a dead orc, quite happy in smoking his pipe and I tell him my final count of forty-two. He states that it is a good count for a little elf princling, sitting on forty-three! I am not one to loose to a Dwarf so I shoot the orc he is sitting on saying that it was twitching. And he says," Legolas coughed a bit and attempted a fairly accurate impression of Gimli at helms deep. "'He was twitching because I've got my AXE embedded in his NERVOUS SYSTEM!'" The hall bursts into laughter and even Gimli himself laughed feeling more comfortable. As the hall calmed and the feast began, Legolas turned to Gimli and whispered.
"You remind me of him, Coeiond. I think if you were to meet him, you would agree with me that he is a true elvellon; but come, I am keeping you from your dinner. Eat with us, and rest before you leave for your eastern home." Legolas drank deep of his wine and laughed with the others. Gimli swallowed and looked into his own cup willing it, though without success, to become a hot mug of ale. Swallowing his courage he took a sip and swallowed, trying not to let the sweetness of the wine to show that he was not used to it. No one noticed and Gimli eagerly ate without his drink.
The party and dinner had died to a dull roar by the time Gimli excused himself for sleep. Legolas had offered to show him to his room and, in his depressingly sober state at such an affair, he allowed it. Legolas gently took his arm and led him down the chambers of the strange underground palace of King Thranduil. Gimli did not notice that Legolas was taking him to the baths until they entered the chamber.
"This is no bedroom, Prince Legolas," he said looking at the prince. Legolas smiled gently.
"I thought you would have wished to clean before you sleep. I can give you some night robes of mine, as I see you brought none of your own." Legolas walked over to the tub and gently turned the faucet. Gimli blinked in wonder and curiosity.
"The water comes from an underground hot spring; it is clean and hot. I will draw your bath, here; take a robe and change, I will prepare everything for you, Coeiond." Gimli frowned and nodded grateful for the hospitality, but nervous of the intentions. Gimli sighed and moved into a side room and closed the door and looked at himself again in the mirror.
"Aulë why have you punished me so? Did I insult you or your beloved Yavanna? Please have pity on me, I apologize for whatever I have done; for whatever deed you saw as an insult." When no answer came Gimli frowned and began to undress his fingers struggling slightly with the elvish buttons and folded them up carefully. He looked at himself in the mirror and frowned. His once broad chest covered with thick hair had changed, now less muscular and clean of any hair. Gimli frowned and undressed the rest of the way and wrapped the robe around him, nervous and shy.
As he exited he saw no sign of Legolas but the bath was prepared and fresh soap was there to be used. Gimli carefully looked around. Once sure of no elves that would be unwanted in a bath Gimli carefully took the robe off and slipped nervously into the water. Gasping at the heat, Gimli slowly slid down into the bath.
"Aaaahhhh..." Gimli smiled and gently rested his head on the side of the tub and let the hot water ease away his sores and cares. He closed his eyes and let his hair and the rest of him soak, slowly slipping down to his shoulders. He held his breath and went under the water, wetting his hair. Coming back up he reached for the soap. Gathering the soap he gently brought his hair over to the side and began washing it. Gimli finished cleaning his hair and dunked his head back into the water and rinsed. The water was now filled with suds from his hair and he then began to clean himself. He frowned and rubbed his shoulders slightly, still tight from his work earlier that day in the mines. He didn't hear the soft foot steps of Legolas as he entered the bathing room.
"I hope your bath is going well." Gimli jumped visibly and turned seeing Legolas in his silver gray bathrobe, his hair loose about his shoulders.
"Aye, it is," Gimli said swallowing, glad that the once clear water was now cloudy with soap. Legolas smiled and sat down in a chair and gently rubbed Gimli's shoulders.
"Your shoulders are tight. What do you do in your home in the east?" Legolas' hands slowly slid over Gimli's sleek muscles and skin, his hands soft and healing. Gimli tried to pull away politely and swallowed.
"I'm a builder. I make many crafts including homes and working tools." Gimli quickly moved to the middle of the tub, kneeling and watching Legolas over his shoulder. Legolas smiled and leaned on the tub nodding.
"It shows upon your frame. You must be a great craftsman, I can see it; you have more muscles than any other elf I have seen." Legolas didn't bother fixing his robe as the shoulders fell off revealing a slender shoulder and neck. Legolas smiled dreamily at him.
"I'm sure you are stronger than I, slaying forty-two orcs is no small feat, Prince Legolas." Gimli averted his eyes and swallowed finishing cleaning, hoping to leave in the morning and wait until he was changed back to go back to the Lonely Mountain.
"But I am no great builder, Coeiond. Your name means Son of the Earth, and you smell of it. You remind me of my dear friend Gimli. You have those same eyes...so deep, but you are much more beautiful than Gimli, and for a dwarf he is fair himself." Gimli felt a blush across his face and a slight anger stirring in his stomach.
"I believe I am done now, I wish to be left alone so I may change and retire for the night." Legolas nodded and got up leaving as quietly as he came. Gimli unstopped the tub and quickly got out drying himself off with the towel prepared for him. He went into where he left his clothes and found them gone and a pair of night robes waiting for him. He frowned not seeing his axe and quickly dressed drying his hair and putting the wet towel on a stone rack for drying. Heading out he found Legolas waiting for him.
"This way, Master Coeiond, I shall show you to your room before I too retire." Legolas led the way and Gimli followed amazed that his footsteps were as silent as Legolas'. Legolas opened a room and bid him to enter.
"This...is beautiful, thank you, Prince Legolas." Gimli looked at him. Legolas smiled.
"Please, just call me Legolas. And it is, to fit your beauty, Coeiond." Legolas gently reached a hand to Gimli's face and pulled it back as Gimli backed away. Nodding with a soft smile, no harmed feelings in his eyes, Legolas bowed to him.
"Dú maer, mellon." With that the prince left. Gimli swallowed and closed the door, finding his axe leaning up against a stone fireplace, a warm fire started, but no sign of his clothes.
"I must leave this place before I am no longer able to look at Legolas the same way again." Gimli went over to his bed and tossed the covers back and thought of how strangely Legolas was acting. Gimli himself was a virgin, and he planned to keep it that way. He had no idea how many lovers his friend had in the past, but he was determined not to become one of them. If Legolas found out, their friendship would be destroyed and most likely Legolas would hate him; something the dwarf did not want. Gimli frowned and glanced at the fire and laid down to sleep in the soft mattress and blankets of the House of Thranduil.
Glossary of Elvish Words and Phrases:
Chapter 1:
Post - Halt
Eneth lín - your name
Coeiond - Son of the Earth (used as a name)
Mellon - friend
Gwador - Brother
Dú maer, mellon - Good night, friend
Elvellon - Elf-friend
Mílellon - Elf-love