Work Text:
"Are you ready for this?" It was a useless question, Legolas supposed, as they were already riding down the forest path, but he still needed to hear the answer.
"As ready as I'll ever be, I believe." Gimli's arms tightened around him for a moment. "Which is not to say very, but I'll do it nevertheless."
"You do not have to be here, you know." However much the thought of facing his father alone in this matter pained him. "I certainly would not blame you, for all the pain he has caused your kin."
"Aye, I know. And yet, I could not be anywhere else." Gimli leaned his head briefly against Legolas's back. "I would be a coward indeed to leave you to tell him of us alone."
"None would blame you, though." Least of all Legolas himself. "When your father was here, he was thrown to the cells for a much lesser crime than wooing the king's only son."
"You think he would choose to imprison me, then, for committing that crime?"
"I hope not." And yet, he knew his father's mind was not always as he might have hoped. "I have sent word to Erebor, though, that Gimli son of Glóin will be there once he has met with the Elvenking. For all his bitterness, my father would be foolish indeed to attempt something such as that and risk the wrath of all of Erebor."
"How very cunning, my beloved." One of Gimli's hands left his waist, coming up to run over his hair instead. Legolas knew his fingertips were tracing the braids he had put there. "And yet, I know you will keep me safe from anything."
"As it is within my power." Which was all he could promise.
Thankfully, it seemed to satisfy Gimli for now.
They were welcomed at his father's palace with rather more noise and activity than Legolas was used to seeing. Gimli's presence raised some eyebrows, yet nobody said anything. Their horse was led away, their things carried out of sight, and before he could even inquire for his father Legolas found himself led towards the throne room, Gimli by his side.
He had not been gone for long, less than two years altogether even with their traveling after the quest, yet his father seemed to have aged centuries. As Legolas drew closer to the throne, however, he came to his feet, pale face turning toward them.
"Legolas," he said, and it was hardly more than a breath. "You have returned."
"That I have, adar. Safe and sound, just as I left you." He heard Gimli coming to a stall as Legolas himself stepped forward. "You seem tired."
"Fear of loss may do that to you." Thranduil came closer, seeming to hesitate for a moment, then drew Legolas into his arms in a tight, almost crushing embrace. "I was worried," he murmured, his face in Legolas's hair. "So worried that I might not see you again."
"Yet here I am, right before your eyes." He reached his arms around his father as well. For all that they rarely agreed on things, he had missed him. "While the quest was not easy, I have returned to you."
"Ah, but you have grown older as well." Thranduil drew back now, but kept his hands on Legolas's shoulders as he examined him. "Your eyes are not those of one of your years, anymore."
"I have seen war, adar, and the fall of companions. I could scarce mourn so many lives lost without feeling the weight of their years upon me."
"Yet that is not all, is it?" One of Thranduil's hands came to the side of his face, warm and comforting, and Legolas leaned into the touch. "I have been to war, my son, and seen those returning from it. It is not only sorrow in your eyes, it is longing as well."
"This is true." Legolas closed his eyes briefly, trying to find the words. "I… during our quest, I heard the call of the gulls."
"Ah!" Thranduil threw up his arms, turning away from him. "Such sorrow I have wrought by sending you away, my son. You have come back to me from war, yet it is only for me to see you go again." He hang his head, now, a proud column of white and silver in the darkness on the verge of crumbling.
Legolas swallowed. "I am not leaving, adar. Not yet. For while the call of the gulls is echoing in my ears, my heart yet lies elsewhere."
"And where is that?" His father would not look to him yet, standing beside his throne yet not taking a seat upon it. "If neither your home nor the sea own your heart, where have you left it?"
"I have given it away, adar." Thranduil spun around, his eyes sharp on Legolas, yet he stood straight, without fear. "My heart cannot call me away as long as another holds it in their hands."
"And is this why you have brought a dwarf before my throne?" So he had noticed Gimli after all.
"Yes, adar. For he has my heart, and I have his." He lifted his chin, refusing to back down from his father's piercing eyes. "And you can say naught to my choice, for I have already given myself to his embrace."
"Ah!" Thranduil lifted his eyes up to where the sky might have been if not for the stone and rock sheltering them. "Be that I were brought the word of your fall, Legolas, for my tears would have been no more bitter than here."
Legolas struggled to find words, yet he never got the opportunity. Before either of them could continue, a new voice spoke up, rough and deep yet carrying far in Thranduil's cavern. "That could not have been, Thranduil Elvenking," Gimli said, without a hint of fear in his voice. "For I would have fallen myself before I let that happen."
"Dwarf." And finally Thranduil's eyes fell to Gimli, his expression suddenly blank and unreadable. "Come forth, as you dare."
Gimli, never one wanting for courage, walked forward, until he was standing beside Legolas. While he had to crane his neck to look up at Thranduil, his posture was proud and firm, feet planted on the stone as though he had grown from it. "Gimli, son of Glóin," he said, and made a bow, prim and proper and never humble. "At your service."
"A dwarf of Erebor." A small sneer crept onto Thranduil's face. "Are you of any consequence?"
Legolas made to defend his chosen, yet again Gimli was there before him. "I am Gimli, son of Glóin, son of Gróin, of the line of Durin and cousin to kings," he replied. "I was part of the Fellowship, I was one of the Three Hunters. I stood in the battle of Helm's Deep and faced the orcs of Mordor at the Black Gate, and the Lady Galadriel in her beauty has graced me with her favor. To your son I have gifted my heart, soul, and body alike, and I have put courtship braids in his hair, for all to see that I am his as he wills." Again, another bow that held nothing but pride. "If any of those hold consequence to you, King Thranduil, I wouldn't presume to know, but I would not trade any of them for all the gold and gems in the world."
There was a silence, now, that stretched on somewhat longer than Legolas would have liked. Finally, Thranduil walked back to his throne and sat down upon it, heavy with exhaustion that only reached his eyes. "You love him," he said to Legolas, and it was not a question.
"I do," Legolas replied. "For he has shown me courage and loyalty and beauty beyond all I have ever encountered before, in my own kin or elsewhere. As long as he stands beside me, I will not set sail, for the call of the sea is nothing when he still stands on the shore."
"And when he passes?" Thranduil's voice was soft, though whether in emotion or a trap, Legolas could not tell. "He is mortal, Legolas. What will become of you when he returns to the stone he came from?"
"He will sail," Gimli said in Legolas's place, words quiet yet firm. "He will sail, and live out his days in the West, for I would not see him wither as a flower before winter. So fret not, Elvenking; I would not stand to steal him away from you for more than my years should allow."
"A bold one, I see." Thranduil eyed Gimli. "And if your interest wanes? If you find he is not as fair as those of your own people, leaving him alone and bereft?"
"A dwarf loves but once." Gimli did not waver even under the cold gaze. "We give away our heart, and if it were rejected, we still would have no other. There is one we were created for in all of Arda, and I know beyond the shadow of doubt that Legolas is the one I was forged for. I would sooner tear out the heart in my chest than step away from him by my own will."
"If you think him yours, then I believe you would not forsake him. In that, at least, I know a dwarf to be consistent." Thranduil paused. "You will understand my dilemma, Gimli, son of Glóin. I have stood before some of the finest of your line, and seen them to their tombs."
"Aye. My father was one of the Company, and of those you put away in your cells. I have heard, o Elvenking, of the terror of your rage." And still, Gimli would not waver. "I have also heard, and seen to myself, that in death you held respect enough for my mighty cousin to return his sword, smithed by elves though it was."
"Thorin Oakenshield I remember well. He was a fool who let gold blind that what was true to him, and who fell for his greed and pride, but I will not deny him the truth of his bravery." Thranduil closed his eyes for a brief moment. "It would have been a dishonor to let any other hand claim Orcrist, for it could not have found a bearer more courageous and proud."
"And so it remains upon his tomb, there to warn the mountain as any threat may come to it, by the grace of the Elvenking." Gimli took a pause, his face grave. "I know I ask a far bigger boon than the aid of your armies or the mercy of your halls, King Thranduil. And yet, at your leave, I would guard your son as Orcrist guards my people, and as surely as I have brought him from the gates of Mordor to your halls would I see him sail to the West, there to heal from whatever pain I may bring him against my will."
"For a dwarf, you are a well-spoken one." Thranduil looked at Legolas again. "I will not be able to change your mind." He did not bother to make it a question.
"I have given him my heart, adar, and I have done so willingly and knowingly, for all the tears it may yet bring me. I beg of you, do not disgrace my love by questioning its strength, or indeed whether such fleeting happiness may be worth my sorrow."
"So I will not." Thranduil stood again, his hands upon the arms of his throne. "You say you have given yourself to him, and he has claimed you for his people to see. For all that your choice brings me sorrow, I cannot and would not undo it when it has already been done."
Legolas blinked. "Adar?" He had heard the words, yet he could scarce believe it. "You do not oppose?"
"And accomplish what? Your wrath and disdain?" Thranduil shook his head. "I would have hoped for more lasting happiness for you. However, ever since your departure I have lived in fear unlike any other, that I would live to bury my own son. If he has any hand in your safe return, then I owe him a debt; and if your heart is in his hands, to disdain him would be to send you away as well."
"I will still not stay, adar." And he said it with regret, but not remorse. "I have seen the world beyond the forest, and I have found there is much more yet for me to see and accomplish. Yet I would have a home here, so to return, and when I set sail at last it would ease my heart to know that you will yet greet me as your son on the shores of Aman."
"I have lost much to dwarves in my time. I would rather accept one of them into my halls than see him steal away my son as well." Thranduil inclined his head, just the barest amount but yet as much of a bow as he had given anyone in centuries. "Be welcome, then, Gimli son of Glóin, husband of my son and the holder of his heart. Fear not the cold of my cells or the strength of my gates, for while I fear the sorrow and pain you will bring, I would not have him lose a moment of the happiness you might yet give him before your time runs out."
"I thank you, Thranduil Elvenking, for your grace and wisdom." Gimli reached for Legolas's hand. "Rest assured that I will guard him with my life, as any dwarf would their greatest treasure."
Thranduil's lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile. "Just see to it that you do not try to lock him up in a mountain."
It seemed as though Legolas could barely breathe until they were out of the throne room again, with the invitation to join Thranduil for dinner. "I cannot believe this," he said in a murmur. "I never thought he might accept you so."
"Aye," Gimli murmured, "yet it seems his love for you is greater than his loathing of my people." He sighed, then. "And now, we only have one problem left."
"Oh?" Legolas squeezed his hand. "You think your people will turn me away?"
"You are my One, you daft elf; for all that they might not think much of you, they would sooner part me from my head," Gimli assured him. "However, it happens that my da has oft told the tale of his capture, and I don't know how welcoming my ma will be of the elf who thought her to be his brother."
Legolas groaned, hanging his head. Oh, he had truly been young and foolish. "I do not suppose you would be willing to say some words in my favor?"
"Oh, I do not know." As he looked at Gimli, he found the deep eyes twinkling with mirth. "Do you still think me a goblin mutant?"
Oh, yes, so very foolish.
Yet if even his father could overcome the past, perhaps he would still survive the meeting with the mother of his chosen.