Gimli's pov
I hurry to the kitchen to where Thorûr has joined Dorbryn for break of fast. Since Mam passed some years ago, I have taken to eating in the public dining halls frequently, but of a morning, my sister and brother-in-law join me most of the time. Dorbryn has little confidence in my ability to feed myself, and like our mother feels it is her duty to see to it that no one in her family goes hungry. As often as not we are also joined by her son, daughter-in-law and grandson, but today Greirr and his family are not present.
No doubt they will show themselves some time today, for Greirr and Legolas are still quite close in spite of the fact that Greirr is now a middle aged father and second in command here in Aglarond. In fact Greirr's son Galinn is now closer to Legolas in terms of life stage, but they have never really gotten very close and I have not encouraged it. Galinn is a good lad, strong and energetic like his father, but I have seen the toll it has taken on Legolas to see his mortal friends pass him by and grow older and in some cases eventually die. Eowyn's death was difficult enough, but when Faramir passed last year I was truly worried for the lad. Once the two of them had been quite close and had gotten into all sorts of adventures and mischief together. Faramir had lead a long fulfilling life and died an old man with his children, grandchildren and even one great grandchild around him, but it was still a terrible blow to my lad. And last time I saw Aragorn even he had grown rather feeble, relying on a walking stick to get around. I dare not think what his death will do to my elfling, which is why I have not encouraged him to take up with young Galinn. I cannot bear to see him hurt anymore by mortal friends. He is no longer strong enough to withstand it.
What he needs is to go where he can make friends his age that will stay that way. He has never in his life met another elfling, and there is only one way he ever will and that is to take ship. That is something that I intend to convince him of even if I have to use unfair tactics to do so. I do not wish to write to King Thranduil to inform him of Legolas poor condition, for to see him in such a state would break his poor father's heart, but I will do so if I must, though I hope it does not come to that. What I would prefer would be to get the lad strong enough to travel to Eryn Lasgalen where I can unite with the King in trying to convince Legolas that he must go in the near future, and so I can tell Thranduil of my plan to sail as well, for I hope it will give him peace of mind to know that someone who cares deeply for his son will be with him for the long journey. It remains to be seen when I will inform Legolas of that choice.
First I will have to tell him of my plan to move to Ithilien so I can be near at hand at all times. In fact I expect to never be apart from him for the rest of my life whether he cares for the idea or not. He has forfeited any rights he had to be on his own when he allowed himself to get into such a terrible condition and made his elves swear not to go for help. It has become very clear that he is no longer making good decisions for himself, so it is my responsibility to take over and make them for him until such a time as he can manage on his own again. I know now that that will never happen in Middle Earth. I do not fault him for that, for it is something beyond his control, but I would be remiss in my duty if I were to ignore that fact, so moving to be with him permanently is the only option, even if it hurts his pride a bit for me to do so. What must be done, must be done and is best done cheerfully if possible. I have sworn not to lament my choice on the matter and hope he will be able to do the same, not that it will change my plans whatever he wishes. I plan to inform him of this very soon, but before even that can happen, I have to get him in better shape which begins with the small step of getting him to swallow some broth and then pray that he can manage to keep it down.
I greet Dorbryn and Thorûr, but do not linger with them. Instead I return to my elfling with the cup of heated broth to find him gazing off into space. I frown at this for this is what I am trying to avoid. He must not give in to the sounds of the sea, else we may never get him back. I sit next to him and stroke his cheek.
"Legolas, lad, look at me!" I demand. "No not over my shoulder, lamb. Look into my eyes and focus. I know it is not easy, but I insist! Good lad. Now can ye hold this cup?"
He closes his eyes as if to steady himself, and reaches for the cup. He does manage to wrap a hand around it, but I keep hold of it myself as well for it is easy to see he is too weak and shaky to lift it to his lips. It takes a good long while to finish the broth since he only takes the smallest of sips in case his stomach decides to rebel and by the time the cup is empty I can see he is completely wrung out from the exertion, poor lad. I truly am sympathetic, but when his eyes begin to glaze I have to speak firmly again.
"Ye mustn't focus on the sea sounds. It is not allowed. Are ye hearing them now lamb? Focus on my voice and answer me, youngling!"
He makes a great effort and focuses on my face.
"I am trying not to hear them Gimli, but it is very hard."
"Aye, lamb, I know it is," I say sympathetically. "But ye must tell me when it happens so I can help ye refocus on something else. Ye may sleep or ye may talk with me or even just listen to me talk, but ye may not allow your mind to wander no matter how tempting it is to do so. Is that plain?"
He nods, but his eyes start to glaze again until I object once more.
"Use words, Legolas. When ye address me I expect ye to speak."
He glances toward me and I am encouraged to see that he is a little annoyed with me. It is better than the blank staring by a long sight., but he does not voice his annoyance instead he sighs and answers.
"All right Elvellon, I will do my best."
"I couldna ask for more than that," I answer, patting his hand. "Now are ye in any pain? Tell the truth now laddie."
"A little," he admits, though I think it could be more than that by the looks of him.
"What hurts?"
"My head, my throat, my shoulder."
"Captain Galathil says ye managed to strain your shoulder on the journey here, so ye only need to rest it for a while. Once ye are up and about again we'll see about getting a sling to keep it still. For now I've asked Dorbryn to mix up something for your pain and to help ye relax, though we won't make it as strong as last night. I need to be able to rouse ye enough to eat. What ye need is some good quality sleep and plenty of small meals. That will be your only duty for the next little while, eating, sleeping and keeping your thoughts in the present. I will do my best to help ye with that, but ye must cooperate and do exactly as I say. And there is no point in rolling your eyes, elfling. Ye are not to move from this bed until ye have gained my permission to do so, and ye will eat what I bring ye without discussion. I will tell ye now I am not best pleased with ye for lying to me about your health, for that is a dangerous game to play, so I suggest ye dinna attempt to cross me in this matter. I love ye as my own child and would do anything for ye, but ye are on very thin ice already. Ye will sorely regret it if ye choose to defy me."
He actually smiles at that, for he knows as well as I do that he is perfectly safe at the moment. I smile as well, and lean in to kiss him on the forehead, but I point a warning finger in his face as well.
"Dinna think I will not keep account of your naughtiness, lamb. Ye may be too skinny now, but ye'll be over my knee soon enough if ye refuse to behave. Ye'd best keep that in mind."
"I will," he promises, as Dorbryn enters with a small amount of laced tea. Again I help him with the cup and then to lie back on the pillows again.
"Now why don't ye turn over and let me rub that sore shoulder a little while I tell ye about what Greirr and I have planned for our new breweries…"
I chatter on, pausing from time to time to get him to respond to me, just to remind him that he is required to pay attention, though when he begins to relax under my hand, I change to singing and then soft humming. Very soon he is resting peacefully again.
The days that follow fall into a similar pattern with Legolas sleeping a great deal of the time and with me spending most of my time holed up with him, coercing him to eat and insisting that he talk with me, or listen to me talk, or read or sing or anything else I can think of to distract his mind from the call of the sea. Others come to join us and even to spell me on occasion, but for the most part I am as confined as he is. Eventually he is able to rise and make his way to the bathing chamber with help so that he can begin tending to his own most personal needs mostly by himself. It is a happy occasion when he is able to manage to bathe in a real tub rather than to make do with my clumsy attempts at helping him with a sponge bath. Afterwards I brush out his hair and sit with him in front of the fire to dry it, before helping him back to bed. He is exhausted but triumphant, and manages to get me to promise that he may sit in the main room tomorrow to visit with the rest of the folks
As promised, the next day I help him to dress warmly and then sit before the fire in Mam's favorite chair, with a blanket wrapped around his narrow shoulders. He is still scarecrow thin, but at least the unnatural pallid color of his skin has changed to a healthier looking one. A stream of visitors come to see him over the next couple of days: Dorbryn and Thorûr of course, Greirr and his wife, young Galinn, elderly Mistress Lilja, who brings a sling for his damaged shoulder, but refrains from asking too many nosy questions. Galathil and Saelind visit as often as they can as well. The other elves have already gone back to Ithilien having been given assignments by Captain Galathil. By rights it is Legolas' job to do so, but I managed to convince Galathil that the lad should not be bothered over such things.. No one is encouraged to stay very long, but it is a good distraction for the lad as he continues to heal. On the third day of his liberation from bed, I decide to invite some key folks to visit, for it is time to reveal my plan to retire as Lord of Aglarond. There are a lot of people who will be affected, and they should be informed. Besides I need my lad to begin getting used to the idea so that by the time he is well enough to leave, I will not need to argue with him over it.
So late in the morning I encourage Legolas into the main room and then I usher in Captain Galathil and Captain Saelind, who will soon have to put up with me on a daily basis, and my nephew Greirr, who will be most effected of all. It is he who will need to take my place here. Soon everyone is settled comfortably with a glass of wine or ale, or in Legolas case warmed milk, and water that is flavored with sugar and tea, a drink my esteemed mother always called cambric tea for its resemblance to the fabric.
It is a drink often served to children in place of 'real' or 'grownup' tea, to make them feel included in the custom. I have no idea if he realizes the story behind the drink, but in his case it is because alcoholic drinks are not good for him. He hasn't enough body mass to deal with it and it will not help him gain weight as the cambric tea will. Plain milk might be better, but after his first experience with that this visit, he hasn't been keen on it and I have not the heart to insist. I can hardly blame him for not wanting to drink it after that first cup came back up for a second look.
Whatever the case, whenever everyone is settled comfortably and have visited for a few minutes, I clear my throat to gain their attention. When all eyes turn toward me, I take a deep breath and begin speaking.
"I have called ye all here for a reason, for I have something I wish to say," I begin. "There are important decisions that need to be made regarding the future, and I wished to have ye all here together to discuss them."
There are nods all around, all except for Legolas, who goes paler than he already was if that is possible. Still it must be said.
"There is no use in pretending that my lad here has not declined in health, and I feel it is my place to take some action in that regard. Dinna look so distraught lamb, it is better to face the truth. As I was saying…"
But Legolas clearly is not interested in what I have to say, for rather than listening he merely blurts out.
"No! I am not ready yet!"
Before I can say anything more, Galathil has gotten to his feet.
"I may be speaking out of turn, but this matter is too important to worry over decorum," He turns to Legolas. "Listen to him Prince Legolas. You will not be able to endure forever you know. It is a fight you cannot possibly win, no matter how strong or how determined you are."
Saelind adds his mite to the discussion as well.
"We will miss you, my prince, but it is for your own good. You have been fighting the call for over eighty years since you watched Master Amavar sail into the West. It is too long already!"
"Recall that we persuaded you to come to Aglarond for help even back then?" Galathil adds. "Lord Gimli has ever only wished to help you, so forgive me for saying so, but you will do well to pay attention when he has something to say."
Legolas becomes flustered at this and flushes, as I frown, for that is not how things happened. Evidently some information has been kept from the good captain.
"What do ye mean he heard the call eighty years ago?," I demand. "He was first exposed to the sea in Pelargir, way back during the year of the Ring War. We were together when it happened and I recall it as if it were yesterday though it was a decade beyond a hundred years ago."
Saelind and Galathil look at one another in amazement.
"One hundred and ten years of fighting the sea longing?" Galathil sputters, obviously amazed. "How did we not know this?"
"I am not young, but never have I heard of anyone enduring the call for so long," Saelind explains to me when I must look baffled. I had not known such a thing was so unusual. "You really must consider taking ship with all haste," he is practically begging now, "for as difficult as you find it to accept, nature must prevail in the end."
"You do not understand," Legolas exclaims, nearly panicked now. "I cannot sail, not yet. It is impossible. I have things that must be taken care of…"
He is nearly babbling now, and the tears that stand in his eyes are dangerously close to falling. I regret having brought this up in front of anyone else. I should have prepared him first, but I had not expected so many revelations to occur, nor had I expected the two Captains to react so vehemently. Also they have jumped a step in assuming I was talking of Legolas' sailing. I close my eyes and sigh heartily over the mess I have made of this, and then hurry to reassure my elfling. I pull him to his feet and then sit in Mam's chair, pulling him in beside me.
"You must understand, Gimli, I just cannot…I have made promises…I…I…"
Rather than trying to makes sense of what he is trying to say right now for I will work out this puzzle later, I shush him and pull him in close. He turns his head into my shoulder and I know he is weeping silently. I also know he will not want anyone else to realize it, so I motion for them to keep quiet, while I attempt to explain myself.
"Ye mustn't take on so," I say to the top of his golden head. "Ye have only misunderstood my intentions, and so has everyone else. I was not speaking of your sailing, at least not right now. My intention was to tell everyone of my plan to retire as Lord of the Glittering Caves and to move to in Eryn gîl Ithil. I am no longer keen to be away from ye, Lamb, that's all. Settle down now, child. Ye must conserve your strength."
As has become my pattern, I continue to offer soft words of support, and he calms enough that what I am saying finally evidently sinks in. He sits up and wipes his eyes on his sleeve before looking at me in surprise.
"You can't do that!" he informs me.
"Why ever not?" I ask.
"But I cannot ask such a sacrifice of you!"
"Ye are not asking, lamb, it was my idea alone."
"But, Gimli, I can't let you do such a thing! This is your home and you love it here. Your family is here. Who will take care of Aglarond?"
"Ye are my family, lamb, and wherever ye are will be my home. Greirr is more than prepared to take over as Lord here, and it is quite likely he will let us visit from time to time. As far as 'letting' me do such a thing, I canna really think of a way ye can stop me, elfling, unless ye can convince Aragorn to ban me from Gondor, which I dinna think is likely. It is not your place to tell me where I can live. It is my choice to make, not yours!"
"But…"
"Legolas, my lad, I am not asking ye what I should do, I am simply informing ye of my decision. By the time ye are recovered enough to return home, I will have gotten my affairs in order to go with ye. I merely called everyone here tonight to tell them of my plans, for all here will be affected by this decision. Most especially Greirr here. Do ye think ye are ready to take over here as lord, nephew?"
"I have been preparing for it for a long time," he answers solemnly. "It is a little sudden, but I am ready and I will do my best to follow in your path, Uncle." Here he looks at Legolas, where he sits half in my lap. The child still appears to be all eyes and long hair and looks gaunt and fragile enough to break in half with one hand. Greirr adds, "In fact I believe it is a wise choice. There is no shame in accepting help, Legolas."
"Of course there isn't," Galathil hurries to agree. "Anyone who has been fighting the call of the sea for one hundred and ten years is bound to need help. Such a thing is unheard of! Saelind here can ride ahead and make ready for your arrival."
"Of course," Saelind agrees. "It will be the best for everyone involved."
No doubt he is thinking that Legolas will no longer be able to demand outrageous oaths from them if I am right there keeping a close watch on him.
By now Legolas is frowning at this discussion that is going on around him without his input.
"Am I to have nothing to say in the matter?" he grumbles, though at least he is no longer so panicked and distraught.
"Nay, lamb, I am afraid not. My choice has been made," I tell him, and then wink. "Though I am beginning to feel a little unwanted here laddie…"
"Do not say that Elvellon. You know you are always welcome. It is just, this place…your caverns…"
"Will still be here, only it will be ruled by my capable nephew and heir. It is not something to mourn over but something to celebrate, and dwarven celebrations are the best celebrations. Of course we will have a proper ceremony and feast to honor the passing of the ceremonial axe!"
I raise my glass to this idea, and to bring an end to this discussion for now. Everyone joins me, all looking pleased at this solution I have proposed. Legolas alone still seems worried and unconvinced, but at least I have planted the idea and he is not exactly openly objecting anymore. I pull him down to kiss his temple and whisper in his ear.
"Trust me lamb, and let me take care of things. All will be well in the end, I promise ye. I will personally see to it."