FIC: Breaking the Silence (LotR, Legolas/Gimli, PG)

[ashinae]

More old L/G. This one is probably around May-ish, 2002.

Title: Breaking the Silence
Legolas and exposition written by ashinae, Gimli's dialogue written by nona.
Pairing: Legolas/Gimli
Rating: PG, PG-13 playing it really safe
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns Legolas and Gimli and the world they live in.
Summary: Elf and Dwarf come to an understanding.
Notes: Thank you to rushlight75 for a long-ago beta!

This story told itself. Or rather, Legolas and Gimli demanded that it be told, and Aragorn demanded a cameo or two. It takes place in a bit of a time-bubble, meaning, I have NO idea when this would take place *g*
And just remember, you asked for this. *wags finger threateningly*


Legolas sat apart from the two mortals, staring contemplatively into the fire as they, in turn, watched him. The three shared only the warmth of the fire and the silence between them. Gimli nursed his pipe as he tended to his axe, and Aragorn was focused on sharpening his sword. Occasionally the Dwarf would glance up at Legolas, who was bathed in an orange glow from the flames.

The Elf looked more ethereal than he normally did, and Gimli sighed, very softly, casting his gaze down as he stroked his thumb along the edge of his axe.

Aragorn heard the sigh, and glanced at Gimli, then across at Legolas. "I think, my friend," Aragorn said, "that he is oblivious to the suffering and longing of mortals. I would hazard a guess even to say that he is unaware of our deeper feelings."

"And I," Gimli replied, "would hazard a guess to say that it is not so." He dared to allow himself a faint hint of a smile. "I have ridden with him, and I have felt him against me."

This gave Aragorn pause for a long moment, and when he spoke, he could think of nothing else to say but, "And?"

Gimli allowed himself what Aragorn could only describe as a smirk, but otherwise, the Dwarf was silent and still as he watched the Elf.

Aragorn, too, glanced at Legolas, and then sighed. "I think, perhaps, I shall scout the area for any sign of trouble," he said and rose to his feet.

Gimli nodded. "Please do."

With a parting glance at both the Elf and the Dwarf, Aragorn silently wandered from their camp and disappeared into the darkness of the trees. Gimli shook his head and let out a breath of relief, having thought that Aragorn would never have taken his subtle hints to leave. Perhaps, he thought, one needs to be more blunt when dealing with humans. He ran his thumb over the edge of his axe again and chuckled before he set the weapon aside. He tapped out the burnt leaf from the bowl of his pipe and filled it with new leaf. After lighting it, he slowly enjoyed the smoky taste and looked up to see that Legolas was watching him.

"I continue to hope," the Elf said with a hint of teasing in his voice, "that you and Aragorn will tire of that habit."

"It will follow me to my grave," Gimli replied.

"A pity; though I suppose the scent would mark your grave. You will not be difficult to find."

"If you find the scent so offensive, you can seek rest elsewhere."

"No, I would not do that. Despite the smell, I would still prefer your company to solitude." Legolas leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, smiling across the fire. "We will stop, once you have passed, and lower our heads in grief for a time, and we will remember you and your pipe. We will say, 'Here lies Gimli, who even now has his pipe clutched lovingly to his breast.' We will take notice of the way the air has that faint tang of leaf, and we will mourn your passing for a moment longer before we move on."

"You would leave, after such a eulogy?"

"Yes." Legolas looked down, and stretched his long legs, looking down at a spot on one of his boots. "Yes, I would leave, Gimli, because the scent that lingers in the air would remind me too painfully of your departed presence. I would need to leave, else I may expose my true heart to others."

At these words, Gimli started a bit, looking in surprise at the Elf who would still not meet his gaze. "What true heart is that, Legolas?" he pressed.

Finally, Legolas raised his eyes, looking shyly at Gimli. He clasped his hands together and pushed them between his knees when he realised, with mild horror, that they were trembling. "The true heart, my friend, that cares for you beyond words."

His eyes focused on a thin stream of pungent smoke, Gimli was silent for a long while. The silence made Legolas uncomfortable, and he shifted impatiently where he sat as he gathered the courage to watch Gimli again, though his gaze was not returned. Gimli's amber eyes seemed very far away, and Legolas wondered what it was they were seeing. It was some time before Gimli spoke again.

"As mine does for you."

Relief rushed through Legolas, and his shoulders straightened as he smiled. "That is reassuring," he said, "for I would fade away from despair if I had to go on knowing that you could not tolerate my presence."

"I can tolerate it," Gimli admitted, "and I would have it no other way."

Slowly Legolas rose and crossed over to Gimli. He settled down in the grass next to the tree stump that Gimli sat upon, carefully leaning against his knee. Legolas said nothing for some time, staring out into the darkness beyond their small camp. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and thoughtful. "I apologise to you, my friend," he said, "if anything I may have said or done in the past offended you. You must know that I did not understand you, or your ways, for some time after our departure from Imladris."

So wholly tempted was he to touch the fine golden silk of Legolas's hair that Gimli raised one hand, but he quickly let it drop back to his lap as his other hand clutched the pipe he still held. "It is that way, Legolas," he said, his own voice gruff but as quiet as the Elf's, "when differences are first met. I will not even attempt to give voice to my apologies for any of my own trespasses." He smiled a little as Legolas tilted his head back to peer at him.

"Then, we shall have to leave all those things said and thought in the past and think only of our future together." Legolas's eyes widened quickly in realisation of the words that escaped his throat, a mere second after they were said, but he made no gesture to take them back. He stared at Gimli, his eyes still bright but anxious, though Gimli looked elsewhere even as he nodded in agreement.

As though he was afraid that too much noise would break the understanding that had fallen in place between them, Legolas continued to speak his thoughts softly and carefully. "I am glad to have you at my side, Gimli. I, too, would not have arranged this any other way."

Though it seemed an irrational desire, Gimli allowed himself to touch Legolas's soft hair as he let out a breath of relief. "For that, I am glad."

With a sigh that echoed Gimli's, Legolas closed his eyes and tilted his head back into the hand that caressed his hair. His own hand reached back over his shoulder and he curled his fingers around Gimli's wrist, but Gimli drew his hand away and puffed hard on his pipe to revive it.

Again, the Elf sighed, this time in disappointment, as his fingers loosened to allow Gimli's hand to drift away. But his disappointment bore him some measure of boldness, and he reached back further to let his fingers brush over Gimli's beard, feeling surprised at its softness. A smile curled over his lips, his hand fell away to his lap, and he settled down further to let his head rest against Gimli's thigh.

Gimli stared at Legolas in amazement, stunned into silence at the blissful look on the fair face below him. "Why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?" Legolas opened his eyes to gaze questioningly up at Gimli, who none too gently poked the top of his head. This only served to make Legolas laugh, a sound bright and colourful in the gloom of night. He swatted away the offending fingertip. "That's not very nice," he scolded. "I was beginning to think we were friends."

"If you call yourself my friend," Gimli replied, "make yourself useful."

"What would you wish for me to do?" Legolas asked. "Re-braid your beard?" A mischievous grin quirked his lips as he turned to look at Gimli archly. "It is beginning to look rather unkempt."

Gimli snorted and tapped out his pipe again before he rummaged about in his rucksack. He put the pipe away, and pulled out a brush, which was promptly handed to the Elf. Legolas said nothing about Gimli carrying this item as he took it, but he did laugh very softly as he moved to kneel between Gimli's knees. He put the brush down on his lap as his long fingers very carefully unbraided the Dwarf's beard, and he admired its fine texture, and commented on its softness, but Gimli, seeming to share a smile with himself, only hushed him. At this response to his compliments, Legolas was tempted to tug childishly on the beard, but he refrained and finished unbraiding. He glanced up and saw that Gimli's eyes were once more staring at some point far away, and took a moment to note their deep colour and the intense seriousness that shone there. Legolas sighed softly as his fingers ran through the thick, soft hair more than the bristles of the brush.

It was several sweet, long moments before Legolas saw Aragorn emerging from the trees behind Gimli's shoulder. When an unwelcoming expression was shot at him that was far swifter and more deadly than an arrow, Aragorn quickly made himself scarce once more.

With his eyes returned to Gimli's face, Legolas grinned. "I could give you braids any Elf would envy."

"I will have none of that Elf fodder," Gimli teased. "I am, if you have not noticed, a Dwarf. My beard was fine the way it was before you got your hands on it."

"Fodder?" Legolas protested and gave in to the temptation to tug on the beard in his hands. "'Tis not a kindly thing to say, and if you have not noticed, you were the one who invited me to get my hands on your beard."

Gimli made a noise of protest then jabbed Legolas's shoulder with one finger, and Legolas quickly returned the favour.

"I play the good friend," he said, "and you're attempting to injure me!"

Gimli shook his head. "If you were injured by that, Elf..." He let the teasing words trail away.

"Then, what, Dwarf?" Legolas tugged on the beard again and Gimli grabbed his wrists to still him. He looked sternly into blue eyes.

"Then you are more delicate than I imagined!"

"Ah, but with you and your hard axe at my side, I need not worry about being so delicate." With a playful smile, Legolas reached up to rub at Gimli's cheeks with both hands. Again, Gimli prudently stopped him and shooed away his hands.

"Enough," Gimli said firmly.

It appeared that Legolas was pouting. "I was only trying to ease whatever hurt I may have caused."

"I am not as delicate as you are."

"No," Legolas agreed, "no, I imagine that you are not delicate." As Gimli's chest swelled with pride, Legolas's eyes were drawn from his face for a brief moment. Impulsively, he let his hands slide under the cover of hair and he rested them against the warmth of Gimli's chest. Legolas raised one eyebrow and lowered his voice. "No, indeed; not at all delicate."

Gimli covered Legolas's hands with his own and pressed them hard against the pounding throb of his heart. "I think this is what you seek," he whispered.

"Yes," Legolas sighed and leaned a little closer, "it is so strong and constant, but beating far too quickly. Am I making you uneasy?"

"Y--no."

Legolas's lips parted in a grin and he leaned closer, so that his mouth hovered near Gimli's. "Yea, or nay?"

His hands on Legolas's shoulders, Gimli held the Elf away from him. "Yea."

"I seek not to make you uneasy, though perhaps I do seek to--"

Gimli interrupted swiftly. "You do not know of what you speak."

"Why would that be?" Legolas once more put his hands on either side of Gimli's face, but Gimli once more drew the hands away. The smile on his face melted away and he looked at Gimli in disappointment. "What have I done that is so wrong?" he asked. "Do I offend you again?"

"No, Legolas," Gimli replied with a gentle voice, "but you push hard."

Legolas said only, "Oh," and he pulled away and sat back on his heels, his hands held firmly on his own lap.

But Gimli peeked at him from beneath one bush brow and his smile was all at once mischievous and sly. "Yet, you do not push hard enough!" With that, he was in Legolas's arms, knocking the Elf onto his back and leaning over him. Startled, Legolas lay for a moment beneath Gimli, his eyes wide and staring up into Gimli's laughing face. Then, his own laughter joined Gimli's and he wrapped his arms around him. He spoke mock-fiercely as he pulled Gimli against his chest. "You are terrible, Gimli, to tease me so!"

Gimli held himself up on outstretched arms and regarded Legolas for a long moment. "I do suppose some may consider thee beautiful, Elf," he said softly.

"Do you count yourself among these 'some', Gimli?" Legolas asked.

Instead of replying, Gimli leaned down to press a soft, chaste kiss against Legolas's mouth. Legolas sighed in response, and his arms relaxed, his hands sliding down to rest on Gimli's waist. After a moment of what he could only describe as perfect bliss as his lips sought, and captured, Gimli's again, Legolas looked up at Gimli in wonder. "Such tenderness for one so hard," he murmured.

"In our company," Gimli replied, "few are what they seem to be."

"Indeed," Legolas agreed, nodding, and then he teased, "You must be truly smitten, to call me beautiful."

Gimli grumbled and pushed upright so that he could rest his back against the stump. "Foolish Elf," he replied gruffly, though he smiled.

Legolas sat up and reached for Gimli's hands, wordlessly staring into Gimli's eyes as he raised the hands to his lips and pressed tender kisses to each calloused palm. "Foolish, perhaps," he said, "and call me what you will -- but I care for thee deeply. If that is what makes me foolish, then so be it."

Gimli's smile broadened and, very deliberately, he pulled his hands from the Elf's grasp and reached out to muss his hair. The shocked look on Legolas's face, and the gasp that rose to his lips, made him laugh heartily.

"Imp!" Legolas cried as he reached for Gimli and pulled him close again, enfolding him in a tight embrace and holding his arms against his body. "For that, I will cover you with elvish braids, and parade you wherever people may see you and they will laugh, for they will see that an Elf had his hands in a Dwarf's beard!"

Gimli laughed again, worked his arms free, and very carefully arranged Legolas's hair. "And will you not be embarrassed to be named as said Elf?"

"No, Gimli," Legolas replied, "I will be proud, because you will have suffered it and not hewn my head from my shoulders."

"Not yet," Gimli replied, and wrestled Legolas to the ground again. Together they laughed, but Legolas only struggled half-heartedly with Gimli as he took the time to enjoy the press of the smaller body against his own. After a moment of this, he took twin handfuls of hair and beard and he urged Gimli's mouth to his again, seeking an end of this game with kisses.

Gimli was uncertain whether to pull away again or to relax into the sweet kisses. Legolas tasted of berries and clear sweet water, and he was at a loss to decide what to do. He let Legolas kiss him, and he let his mind wander away; only, however, for a short time as he was made aware of Aragorn's approach and he hastily righted himself and rose to his feet.

Legolas was disappointed beyond words to see Aragorn returning so soon to their camp. He sat up, holding himself upright with his hands stretched out behind him, and he levelled an unhappy gaze at Aragorn. In turn, Aragorn looked between them, giving Gimli an unhappy stare of his own, and, shaking his head, found his way to his bedroll.

With a delighted grin that surprised Gimli, considering the unwelcome interruption, Legolas sprang to his feet and then sat down on the stump. "You shall sleep now," he said to Gimli, "and I will be sure to watch over you with great care, and anything that tries to disturb your slumber will have to answer to my arrows."

Gimli glanced at Legolas out of the corner of his eye and turned away quickly so as to not let him see the blush spreading across his cheeks. "Good night," he said gruffly and immediately lay himself down on his own bedroll.

"Good night, Gimli," Legolas replied, and, smiling to himself, rested his elbows on his knees and his chin on his palms for some time as he watched Gimli in his repose.



The end

There really isn't any more.