"If you have a question, Gimli, then ask it because I'm growing weary of your skittish glances." Legolas yawned form where he laid on his back in the light of their campfire, admiring the stars.
Gimli loudly sighed, but did as he was commanded, "Fine. What does it feel like to have Elven magic?"
Legolas tilted his head to the side in the grass, like he was asking the very stars above him how to explain it. Finally he settled on, "I'm not sure. I don't really know what counts as magic and what counts a physical part of me. I don't know what makes my abilities different from yours."
"Well, firstly, Dwarves don't have Elven magic."
Legolas shrugged, "Technically the elves do not even have 'Elven Magic.' The Silvan have different practices than the Sindar, both of which are near alien to many Noldor."
"You're impossible." Gimli grumbled, poking at the fire, "This is why I didn't ask."
This time Legolas looked at him, and even if Gimli could hardly make out the elf's features he knew that Legolas could clearly make out his. Gknew if he could have sees Legolas' face, if would probably be set for a challenge.
"What's it like to have Dwarven magic?" Legolas asked.
Gimli tried to keep his eyebrows from furrowing but he was rather sure they had betrayed him, "Dwarves don't have magic."
Legolas sat up again, "I disagree, my dear friend. How can you tell what a metal want you to shape it to be? Or what temperature it prefers to be heated to? Hmm?"
Gimli thought about it, "I don't know… I just… I just know what it wants."
Legolas turned his eyes to his next victim, "Frodo, what is it like to have Hobbit magic? To move so silently that sometimes even elves do not notice you? The infectious goodwill?"
Frodo shrugged, "Maybe the rest of you are just no good at sneaking, and it's just practice."
"Perhapes." Legolas agreed, eyes aglow, "Hard to tell what is magic and what is physically apart of you, isn't it?"
"But Legolas," Pippin began from where he sat on a log between his cousins, "How do you know that you're not the only one with magic? How do you know that we all have it?"
Legolas laughed, that open lighted hearted sound that could shred even the thickest tension in the world to ribbons, "Thats easy, Master Pippin. Every creature made in the light has magic. Some sort of specific gift or quality that none other can offer the world, and each specific creature holds something even more specific to themselves. Eru left as all with with gifts before he departed."
"Do you believe that?" Aragorn asked, speaking for the first time in nearly two hours.
Legolas looked up to him and a heavy moment fell between the two old friends that Gimli didn't quite understand before Legolas said, "I do. With my whole heart and everything in it."
The ranger cracked a tired smile, "That's a lot of heart, I'm certain your heart contains at least half of Arda."
Legolas laughed, "Maybe it's my Elven Magic."
"No," Aragorn brushed off, "If anything, it's your specific Legolas Magic."
