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Gimli waited in one of Ithilien's more secluded gardens pacing to and fro as though the action itself kept him from flying apart. His mind and heart sent him to extreme opposites of the emotional spectrum. One told him to be cold and logical, that the choices made were the right ones in the grand scheme of things. The other however, told him to fight, fear, and love with abandon, for what was about to happen should not be and he knew it.
Gimli stopped his increasingly frantic pacing and took in his surroundings again. He was reminded of Rivendell with the low hanging branches of whimsical trees that gifted the scent of blossoms into the air, the musical sound of flowing water in the distance, and the air itself that felt charged with some sort of elven magic; all of this beauty hidden from prying eyes and uninvited ears. It was no wonder Gimli chose this place to speak his mind to Legolas.
For ten years, Gimli guarded the secrets of his heart with a tenacity that would have done his people proud. He tried to reason why the heated dreams that visited upon him at night were just that and the contented musings were mere distractions from dwarven work. Yet despite this reasoning and his rich success as the Lord of Algarond, Gimli felt dissatisfaction with his life, an emptiness that only his elven friend could fill.
He had loved Legolas, he decided, since Helm's Deep, perhaps even before that. A large part of him, however, had thought the idea of pining for the attentions of an elf absurd and so he'd dismissed his strange feelings as the consequence of war and hardship. But a single night raised doubt over the root of his feelings and the dwarf was paralyzed with indecision.
It was this indecision, the inability to acknowledge what was before him that drove him away and now that it was clear in his mind what he wanted, it may already be too late. News of the Lord of Ithilien's impending bonding ceremony sent Gimli in such a state of despair that he would have nursed his misery in wretched loneliness if it were not for his ever present stubbornness that told him not to give in.
So he waited in the garden. He would wait all night if he had to. Legolas had agreed to meet with him when his duties were complete but he was reluctant. Gimli now began to fear that the elf might have changed his mind. He would not blame him if he did. Coming to the elf on the eve of what was suppose to be the happiest moment of his life after being gone for so long was presumptuous at best. But the dwarf held on to hope for he had nothing else to hold on to.
He started pacing again, and just when he thought he would go mad with impatience, a tentative query stopped him in his tracks and he turned quickly to face his life and doom.
"Gimli?"
Legolas looked almost startled by Gimli's sudden reaction, his eyes wide and hesitant, his hand reached out in mid-motion as if he would steady him. The elf looked beautiful in his simple attire of blue and silver, his hair unbound and flowing freely about his delicate face. Gimli was accustomed to and preferred this version of Legolas to the one that greeted him in the courts. With his formal robes and crown, Legolas had looked every bit the ruler and nothing like the youthful, fanciful elf who stood before him now. But beyond that, Gimli especially liked that Legolas was alone and not by the side of his intended. Gimli shook his head to get that image out of his head. He was not ready to accept that yet.
Legolas gazed at him intently for a silent moment. "I hope I did not keep you waiting too long," he said softly.
Gimli waved his hand as though to brush away the minutes that were a very torture to his soul not moments before. "It was nothing," he lied. "I was just enjoying the scenery."
Legolas nodded and glanced around the garden himself, although to Gimli, he looked nervous, as though he felt he should not be there.
'And maybe he shouldn't,' he thought sadly. 'Perhaps this is nothing but a dream.'
"This is my favorite garden," Legolas said, breaking Gimli from his self-defeating thoughts. He stepped forward to one of the trees and allowed one of the branches to sweep gently across his open palm. "I come here whenever I want to be alone. Not even Airehil knows about it."
Gimli grunted and mumbled something low under his breath at the mention of Legolas' intended. In his mind, he wanted to read a hidden message in Legolas' point about Airehil not knowing about the garden and it was hard to resist. "I thought there was not suppose to be secrets between you two when you're bonded." He tried to keep his tone light in his jest but it came out sounding accusing.
"We are not bonded yet," the elf corrected quickly as he glared sharply at the dwarf, not missing his tone. "And there are no secrets between us. If he asks, I will tell him."
"But he has to ask first."
Legolas said nothing but by the moonlight, Gimli could see that the elf was becoming annoyed with his subtle accusations. A part of the dwarf rejoiced at the sight. Ever since his arrival in Ithilien, Gimli saw nothing but a shell of what use to be his beloved friend. Every gesture, every expression seemed mechanical and carefully guarded. There was no longer the carefree elf who would sing at the slightest provocation or laugh just for the sheer pleasure of hearing the sound. Instead Gimli saw an elf who was slowly withering away under the well intentioned but misguided love of his intended, who clearly had no idea the gift he had in Legolas. Airehil, from what Gimli had gathered of him, was a kind elf but bland in personality. He came from a prominent family that was influential in Legolas' growing colony but was otherwise quite forgettable.
"Did you want something, Gimli?" Legolas asked, sounding a little impatient.
'A lifetime with you.' Gimli shrugged casually. "Just to talk. It's been a long time."
Legolas eyed him suspiciously. "Talk," he repeated.
"Yes, talk," Gimli replied as if he were saying a very reasonable thing. "Why else would I come out here?"
"I don't know, Gimli," Legolas said, sounding tired. "I've yet to understand the ways of dwarves."
"Perfectly understandable, you being an elf and all."
Legolas stared at him, looking slightly taken back by the unexpected jest. In typical elven fashion, his expression shifted through a series of emotions in a matter of moments: sadness, confusion, longing, and anger. The elf sighed heavily and he turned his gaze away, bringing his hand to his forehead in a pained gesture. His eyes were sealed shut and his voice sounded strained and taunt. "You cannot do this."
Gimli couldn't respond right away. All words and jests seem to pale against the open emotion expressed in that simple phrase. Fear rose up and burned his cheeks and it took every ounce of will to push forward despite the foreboding that his battle was already lost. "Do what?"
Legolas looked at him, his eyes bright with unshed tears, his words clipped with resentment. "You cannot come back after all this time and expect to pick up where we left off. Things have changed."
Silence filled the glade to the point of being deafening as the elf's words sank in. A familiar memory of long ago came suddenly to Gimli's mind then, of Legolas lying naked and satiated across his lap, members pressed intimately together, as he ran his large hand appreciatively across the elf's back and buttocks. He recalled with clarity the smoothness of the skin, the sheen of sweat that danced in the firelight, and the contented moans and gasps as he explored new elven territory. It was a night of unexpected joy and it revealed a new element of their friendship that was more rich and robust than the casual camaraderie they shared in the past.
But he also recalled the anxiety and confusion that followed, and how he stumbled over a hasty explanation for his sudden, unexpected departure as Legolas stood calmly, but sadly, before him, never questioning him more than the dwarf could bear. Gimli had promised to return but he had let too much time pass, allowing his fears and doubts get the best of him. Looking at the elf standing before him in the quiet glade, Gimli saw that Legolas too had carried similar fears and uncertainties, but instead of coming to terms with these feelings, Legolas chose to embrace a lesser love. Despite all reason and fairness, Gimli felt anger and jealousy. "Yes, things apparently have," the dwarf responded and he sounded bitter. "Do all elves change their desires on half a whim or is that just a special trait that you have?"
Legolas' eyes widen fractionally and his nostrils flared. "That is not fair."
"Then what do you call this," Gimli challenged, gesturing sharply to nothing in particular. "Why are you binding yourself to an elf you do not love?"
The prince took a step forward, his voice raw with emotion. "You have no right to ask these questions of me. You don't know anything about it!"
"Then tell me why you are doing this," Gimli pushed. "Why are you lying to yourself?"
Legolas laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "I had no idea how active the dwarven imagination could be! What makes you say these silly things?"
The dwarf turned away in frustration. The elf was stubborn and was going to resist him at every turn. He had to come about this in a different way. "I'm sorry I hurt you," he said softly, getting to the root of Legolas' irritation. "It was not my intent. I was confused..."
Legolas stared at him, his jaw set, and his hands clenched into fists. He struggled to stay composed and he cursed the dwarf silently that he could rile him so easily. Airehil would not approve. He could imagine what his intended would say if he saw him as he was. 'A leader must always be strong even when he feels vulnerable. You cannot show weakness.' "Why did you stay away for so long?"
Gimli rubbed his hand over his face suddenly feeling very tired. "It was hard for me, Legolas. After that night, everything between us changed. I didn't know what to do."
"You could have talked to me about it."
"And say what?" Gimli turned around and faced the prince beseechingly. "What could I have said then? I didn't even know what I was feeling or what I wanted to come of it. Did you?"
Legolas closed his eyes slowly and opened them with a weary look.
"All I could think about was what would happen if our people found out. We were both new to our colonies and having to contend with old prejudices. Although our peoples came a long way in learning to work and live together, what we did...it would not have been accepted, Legolas. I couldn't lie to myself about it."
He expected more of Legolas' anger at his confession but instead he watched as the prince pulled back behind his mask of control. "Perhaps you are the wisest between us then for your foresight."
The dwarf blinked in astonishment. "What do you mean?"
The mask slipped briefly and Gimli saw some of the nervous energy that was typical of the elf during the Quest. Legolas wrung his hands distractedly and walked a little ways in no direction in particular as though the action of moving was all he desired. His back was turned towards the dwarf so Gimli had to strain to hear him. "The elves...my people have endured much," he began. "They have watched the might of elves fade away like sands against the wind. Many have lost loved ones either to war or to the Sea and now they find themselves in the Age of Men where we are reduced to myth and legend. My people need a reason to stay a while longer and as their leader, I must give them one."
Gimli shook his head in denial. "You cannot do this."
"Can't I?" Legolas bowed his head. "Perhaps I need a reason to stay as well, Gimli."
The elf sounded hollow to Gimli's ears as though his spirit had already left. It frightened the dwarf to see his friend this way. "Your heart is not in this. You're sacrificing yourself. Your people must see this. Airehil must see this!"
Legolas said nothing; keeping his back turned to the dwarf he shook his head negating Gimli's argument.
"Please Legolas," Gimli continued sorrowfully, "I love you.
The elf took a shuddering breath, wavering where he stood. Gimli's words stoked passion into his soul that he thought had been all but extinguished since that night long ago. For many nights afterwards, Legolas had laid alone reliving the agonizing delight of their lovemaking, wondering what word was said or deed committed on his part that would make the dwarf leave him in such a state of uncertainty. As the tears fell and the bitterness grew, Legolas realized that he suffered from a broken heart and he felt useless. He thought he would fade away with his grief, until Airehil, whose affections Legolas had politely deflected in the past, provided the ideal distraction and he poured all of his energies in becoming a strong ruler for his people, never thinking about the consequences to his own heart.
He could not hurt like that again, that much Legolas knew, and yet a part of him wanted this...
He shook his head as though to deny the inevitable. "You're too late," he whispered. "It's over. I belong to another!"
"Do you love him?"
"What?"
Gimli looked at him critically. "It's a simple question. Do you or do you not love him?"
Legolas said nothing for it seemed to have become very difficult to breathe at that moment. His heart raced and he felt almost dizzy with the intense emotions assaulting him. "If I didn't love him," he said rationally, slowly, "then I wouldn't be bonding myself to him now would I?"
"Look at me."
Legolas stiffened at the command. "Who are you to make..."
"Look at me!"
Angrily, the elf turned and faced him, his chest heaving and his chin raised in defiance.
Gimli studied him for a long moment before he shook his head confidently. He saw it in the elf's bright eyes. Legolas was always so easy to read if one knew where to look. "No, that's not it. You're bonding yourself to him to evade the truth. You can't bond to Airehil out of love because you already gave your love to me."
Legolas felt his control slip. He struggled to keep his voice steady. "That is not true." But the words sounded weak.
Gimli smiled sadly. "You were always a terrible liar."
"I cannot believe you!" Legolas said in exasperation as he threw his hands in the air, looking visibly upset. The mask had slipped, leaving him exposed. "How can you come here now and say these things. It was a mistake coming here. Goodbye, Gimli." And the elf turned and headed towards the edge of the garden.
Gimli followed doggedly behind. "You can't even say that you love him. He'll never be able to satisfy you or please you because you already emotionally bonded to me. You're just too stubborn to admit it!"
"Stay away from me!" The mask was falling and Legolas felt tears well and flow. 'I cannot bear this. Not again.'
"I love you, Legolas. Do you hear me? I love you! Stop being such a coward!"
"COWARD!" Before the elf could think, he whirled around and struck the dwarf hard in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground. The mask shattered into a million pieces and all of the anger, hurt, and grief that he forced behind the illusion came pouring out of him in a torrent. It was almost a relief, after holding back for so long, to finally let go. The tension, he was not even aware of, was gone, replaced by a strange euphoria, and all of his senses felt rejuvenated as though he were seeing the reality of his life for the first time. He dared not hold back a moment longer.
Gimli was completely unprepared for the blow and was momentarily stunned before suddenly being beset upon by the raging elf.
"YOU left me! You're the one who ran away! Who are you calling a coward?" In his pain, Legolas wanted to hurt Gimli as he was hurt and he struck at Gimli recklessly, hitting any and every part of the dwarf's body.
Gimli recovered quickly and soon the two were grappling for control, rolling and breathing heavily in the lush grass. Gimli was unable to speak because all of his energies went to trying to subdue the elf but Legolas raged on and in his voice, Gimli heard the anguish he inflicted upon his friend and the deep wound that it caused. It brought tears of remorse to the dwarf's eyes.
The tussle continued for some time until Gimli finally managed, with great difficulty, to pin the elf roughly to the ground using the full weight of his body. Legolas struggled underneath him, looking at the dwarf with baleful eyes. "I care nothing for you," he grounded out, weakening, exhausted from the emotional and physical battle, but still continuing to fight. Gimli shifted and held the elf by both his wrists, flinching at the harsh words. "You did this to me. Why did you come back? Why..." and the elf began to weep openly, no longer caring if he appeared strong or unmoved.
"Oh, gods, Legolas," Gimli lamented as his own tears fell. "Oh, please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you like this. Please forgive me." And he gathered the elf close kissing the elf's face and throat desperately, wanting to erase the pain he saw there. 'I did this to him,' he thought miserably.
Legolas continued to sob brokenly, wrapping his arms around the dwarf's neck to receive the comfort. Both wept in each other's arms and soon an old spark ignited between them. Gimli's kisses became more needy, lingering on the elf's skin until he sealed his friend's lips with an ardent kiss.
He could feel the elf stiffen beneath him and the pale hands tangle themselves in his shirt as though he would push him away but within a heartbeat, the elf relaxed and returned the kiss with equal fervor.
Time held its breath as the two relived the pivotal night of their union. Legolas wrapped his long arms and legs about the dwarf's body as Gimli thrust against him. The elf gasped and arched against him in reply, submitting to the skillful touch. He felt frenzied and alive, his nerves scraped raw with passion and need. His breath came in short pants and his head fell back, eyes rolling in the back of his head as the dwarf kissed down his chest trying to remove as much of his clothing as possible.
When the cool air splashed across his naked skin, however, the prince came more to himself and he remembered his intended who was waiting for him and the guests from all parts of the land who eagerly anticipated the ceremony. It was to be remembered as a union that would symbolize the strength of elves in the New Age. Surprisingly, he did not feel guilt for his transgressions, only the heavy weight of duty that made his heart ache in protest.
"Stop," he whispered softly and it cost him dearly. He felt drained by that one word. Fortunately, he had no need to say it again for Gimli stopped, reluctantly, and laid beside the elf, looking intently into his face.
"Please don't do this," the dwarf begged softly. "I will spend the rest of my life making up for the pain I caused you. No price would be too high, no deed too great. Tell me and it is done. Just don't do this."
The elf felt fresh tears and he rolled away from Gimli's intense and sorrowful gaze, staring straight ahead through the grass blades into the garden beyond. He thought his heart would break anew and he shook with fear and grief. 'I cannot do this again! I cannot! I cannot!' "Please, do not ask me. It hurts too much."
He felt Gimli lean closer to him and the elf had to bite his lip at the tenderness the dwarf showed.
"Tell me that you love him and I will go," Gimli said softly in his ear. "I will love you alone and wish you all the happiness in the world and never bother you again if that is what you wish."
Legolas felt numb and exhausted beyond anything he could ever imagine. He dared not look at Gimli but he knew the dwarf waited for his answer. He thought of the choices laid before him: Airehil who was safe, constant, a kind and just leader, he would be at his side, Legolas was confident in that, while Gimli was mortal, a passionate enigma that made him feel more alive than anyone or anything in this world. But it wouldn't last. And he and his people need the lasting.
"Legolas?"
"I love him." The elf was grateful he was already lying down. He suddenly felt light headed and weak.
For a long moment, Gimli said nothing and he feared that the dwarf would continue to argue. Instead he felt his friend lean close and kiss his temple softly, brushing away strands of golden hair. Legolas inhaled a watery breath but continued to stare out into the garden, refusing to look at his former lover. He must be strong.
"Good bye, Legolas," and then he was gone.
Legolas did not watch him leave and he laid in the garden alone long after the dwarf departed. He would not allow himself to think back on their friendship or even regret the single night that changed everything. He had a new life and new responsibilities. He would only look forward.
Eventually, the elf gathered his strength and stood up, putting himself together as best he could. Airehil would be wondering at his absence when there was still so much to do to prepare for the ceremony. Piecing together the shattered remnants of his control, Legolas left the garden and stepped towards his future.
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