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Chapter Text

1. Rivendell

Legolas whinced, doubling up and hiding his head in his arms. Nobody seemed to notice, not even the Elven Guide seated next to him. Everybody present at the Council was shouting at the same time. It had been difficult all week, there seemed to be a growing tension in the air that somehow affected all his senses. It had taken him a lot of effort to stay balanced. The noise, in combination with the tension was now robbing him of his last sliver of energy. He tried to lower his hearing but he was slowly losing the battle. He felt he was going to drown in the noise. Suddenly a hand was placed on each of his arms, and Sindarin words were spoken in his ear. Anchoring onto the soft voice, he managed to stop the drowning and then slowly emerge from the chaos in his mind.

‘Lower it some more,’ the voice said. ‘That’s it, slowly, slowly. Are you feeling better?’

Legolas nodded, his eyes still closed.

‘Do you need to go down further?’ the voice asked. For the first time Legolas noted the faint accent.

‘I am alright now,’ he said. He opened his eyes and looked up to see the old hobbit standing before him. The wrinkled face looked down at him with a smile, but his eyes were worried.

‘Do you not have a Guide?’ he asked.

‘I do not,’ answered Legolas. ‘I have not found my fated Guide so far, maybe I never will. And I found I do not need a Guide in general, unless there are strenuous circumstances. One of my current companions is assigned as my temporary Guide.’

‘Is he now,’ said Bilbo. ‘And where is he then? I don’t see him doing his job.’

Legolas hesitated. He looked around him. The Council was still in chaos, nobody seemed to have noticed what had happened and the Elven Guide was yelling along with the others.
Bilbo sighed.

‘They are behaving quite ridiculously, aren’t they?’ he observed. ‘Well then, I suppose someone has to take action.’ He straightened his back and stepped forward.

‘Very well,’ he said in Westron. Nobody paid him any notice.

‘Very well,’ he bellowed. Suddenly all became quiet. ‘It is plain enough, Lord Elrond, as it is silly old me who started this whole affair, I better finish it too. It is a pity, because I was just writing the ending to my book, and I was planning on it being something like ‘and he lived happily ever afterwards to the end of his days’ but it seems I will have to alter that. When do I leave?’

All the faces were turned to the old hobbit now.

Then Gandalf spoke, his voice soft and kind.

‘You are not the one who started this affair, Bilbo. And what you offer is valiant but it is beyond your strength. The Ring has been passed on.’

Silence fell over the balcony.
Then Frodo stood up.

‘I will take the Ring,’ he said. ‘Though I do not know the way.’

Legolas, who had completely recovered from his lapse, moved his gaze from the grey-haired hobbit to the dark-haired one. These small, vulnerable mortals surprised him. And indeed, another one suprised him as well, for suddenly a third hobbit popped out from where he had been hiding, and declared that Frodo should not be sent alone, and Lord Elrond said that yes, Sam would accompany his master, since he could not even be separated from him when Frodo was summoned to a secret council and Sam wasn’t.

Surely the world had gone quite mad, Legolas thought.

It was not until the end of December that the Company that was to set off with Frodo and the Ring, finally left Rivendell.

Legolas looked at his unlikely travelling companions. The wizard; two Men: Boromir of Gondor and Aragorn, son of Arathorn; the Dwarf Gimli, son of Gloin; and the four hobbits: Frodo, Samwise, Peregrin and Meriadoc. He was still unsure if it was wise for himself to go on this quest, seeing as there was no Guide among them. Indeed, he had learned that Elves were the only race that knew Guides and Sentinels.

Before, he had somehow assumed that all the races of Middle-Earth would have certain individuals amongs them with heightened senses and a strong protective streak, known as Sentinels, and those who were able to balance and ground them, known as Guides. But Bilbo had informed him that it were only the Elves. The only reason Bilbo had been able to help Legolas at the council, was that Lord Elrond, who was a Sentinel himself, had sensed an innate deep empathy in Bilbo and after telling him about Guides, had an Elven Guide instruct him on a Guide’s techniques. To everyone’s surprise the old hobbit had proven to be quite effective as a Guide when needed.

Lord Elrond had speculated that maybe the other races had what he called ‘sleeping’ Sentinels and Guides, and that those could be brought out on purpose or by circumstance. Legolas was surprised to hear that not even the Dunedain had Sentinels or Guides. Surely the Rangers were very much like Sentinels? Yet he could feel that they were not exactly that, even though their senses were often more developed than that of ordinary Men. Maybe they did have a hidden ability.

That Dwarves had no concept of Sentinels or Guides was no suprise to him. They were such a primitive race, obsessed with metal and stone, aggressive and easily offended, although he had to admit that they were also brave and tenacious, as had been proven by the small group that had set out to retake Erebor all those years ago. He had witnessed his father interrogating their would-be King, Thorin Oakenshield, and in spite of the rage that dwarf had evoked in his father, he had admired Thorin’s steadfast refusal to say anything of worth.

Of course relations with the Dwarves of Erebor were very different now, but he doubted if that would have come about had Thorin not perished at the Battle of the Five Armies. And still, sometimes Legolas felt sad that the brave Prince had not been able to enjoy the success of his daring quest for more than a short time. When he had mentioned this to Bilbo once, the hobbit’s eyes had become so sad, that Legolas had hastily changed the subject and resolved to never mention it again.

Legolas sighed and looked at the red-headed Dwarf who was part of the Fellowship now. Son of one of the Dwarves that had been imprisoned by his father no less. Legolas wondered why Gimli, son of Gloin, had not confronted him with this fact as yet. Surely he must know. Gloin, who had also been present at the Council, was well aware that Thranduil was Legolas’ father.
For a moment Gimli’s gaze met his, but revealed no emotion at all. At least there was no outright hostility, that would have been awkward, seeing as how they would need to travel together on a dangerous journey.

2. Caradhras & the West Gate

Legolas felt sligthly guilty. All his companions were suffering, bent over against the wind, sheltering their faces from the snow, shivering and trying to stay afoot. Yet he, he trod lightly over the slippery road, he did not feel the cold, and somehow the howling wind and the white nothingness made him feel more centered than he had been for some time. If anything, he felt like singing. But he could not give in to his elation while his companions suffered so. The decision to turn back was logical and wise.

‘I go to find the Sun!’ Legolas said to Gandalf, and he danced over the snow, back the way they came. And although he did not bring the Sun, at least he could tell them they were nearly out of the snow. Just a little further down, the road was free again. Caradhras had won, they would not go this way again.

So they had to go the other way, and Legolas’s elation dwindled, for he did not like the idea of going through Moria, however great Gimli said it would be.

They made their way there, fighting strange ghostly wolves in the night. The Dwarf did fight valiantly. The next day they finally came upon that too dark lake, and halted near where the entrance door to the the Mines of Moria should be.

‘Here we are,’ Gandalf said. ‘Here the Elven-way ended that was used for traffic with the Lords of Moria. Happier days they were, when there was friendship between different races, even between Dwarves and Elves.’

‘It was not the fault of the Dwarves that the friendship waned,’ said Gimli, with a stare at Legolas.

‘I have not heard that it was the fault of the Elves,’ said Legolas, returning Gimli’s stare with an even glance.

‘I have heard both,’ said Gandalf. ‘But please, I ask you, Gimli and Legolas, to be friends and help me, since I need you both.’ He looked at each of them with a searching look.

Legolas refrained from shrugging. He did not feel any animosity towards this Dwarf, who had been nothing but a good member of the Fellowship so far, and had not even displayed some of the more deplorable Dwarven traits.

‘I have no objection,’ Legolas said.

Gimli scowled at him for a minute. Then he did shrug.

‘Very well,’ he said.

They all stared at the large rockface. There was no door.

‘Why, are you sure this is the place?’ asked Pippin. ‘For I can’t for the life of me see a door.’

‘That, silly Took, is because it will only show in the moonlight.’

‘Oh really?’ The young hobbit looked up at the sky. ‘Well, then we may have to wait a bit, there’s clouds you see.’

‘Yes, I see,’ said the wizard, obviously irritated. But then the clouds parted and a silvery doorway showed itself, surrounded by Elvish letters.

‘Speak, friend, and enter,’ Gandalf read. ‘This is obviously a code, so no one but friends could enter. Now, let me see...’

The wizard bellowed words and phrases in several Elvish and Dwarven tongues for quite some time, but nothing happened.

Gimli had sat down on a rock and stared at the outlines as if he hoped to break the door by the force of his eyes alone. Legolas looked at him with a faint smile.

‘I know the willpower of Dwarves is legendary, Master Gimli,’ he said. ‘But I think that these doors are built to withstand even your stare.’

The Dwarf looked at him with narrowed eyes. Legolas returned his look with a face that he hoped conveyed mild humour. To his delight, the Dwarf suddenly relaxed and grinned.

‘I fear you are right, Master Elf,’ he said with his deep rumble of a voice. ‘Do you think a blue-eyed Elvish stare would have any effect?’ For no clear reason Legolas felt goosebumps on his arms. He chuckled.

‘Hardly,’ he began, but he was interrupted by a dull splash. Everybody looked at the lake. Boromir turned around. Obviously he was the one who had hurled a stone into the dark waters.

‘What?’ he said defensively. ‘I hate this place.’

‘You should not disturb the lake,’ grumbled the Wizard, before returning to his work at the door. Then his face lit up.

‘A-ha!’ he exclaimed. ‘Of course! MELLON.’

With a loud grating rumble, the door began to open, at the same time that the surface of the lake was broken by a large tentacle that grabbed at Frodo without hesitation.

It was only when they had managed to run safely inside, the door crumbling behind them by the force of the many tentacles that had proceeded to surface from the lake, that Legolas, staring into the utter darkness of Khazad-Dum, wondered that the Dwarf had actually taken notice of his eye colour.

Chapter Text

3. Moria

Moria was dark. Very, very dark. The staff of the Wizard gave only a faint light, and it did not do much to relieve the darkness. Legolas found that the darkness had an unnerving effect on him. He began to feel like he was not entirely real. He managed to shake off the feeling by concentrating on the tiny light on Gandalf’s staff and the sound of their footsteps on the rock floor.

They went on for hours. Legolas noticed how his hearing and his sense of smell began to increase as his sight was all but muted. This darkness was very different from dark nights in the forest, with stars and Moon to light his way. When they paused in a large room and Pippin dropped a stone in the deep well, Legolas jumped at the sudden sound. And when the drumming started, he felt a ripple creep up his body, starting at his feet. He started to sway. Reaching out blindly with his arms, he happened upon someone’s shoulder and grabbed it. His senses started to balance immediately, the sense of vagueness dissipating.

‘Why, Master Elf,’ said a gruff voice. ‘If I didn’t know any better, I would say that the dark makes you jumpy.’

Legolas froze for a moment, then let go of Gimli’s shoulder. He did not say anything, too confused by the fact that physical contact with the Dwarf had helped him stabilize so quickly.

They took their rest in the room, the drums weren’t heard again. Gandalf woke them after several hours, and they went on through the dark mines. They walked in near silence for hours. The ragged floors of the mines seemed to become more even and walking became a little easier.

Legolas still had to fight against zoning out. If he stared at Gandalf’s little speck of light, he was in danger of losing himself in it. If he averted his eyes and concentrated on walking, the quiet shuffle of feet tended to lure his hearing sense into overload. Time and again he needed to breathe deeply, to shift his focus, to turn down his senses. He found himself near Gimli more often than not. The audible breathing of the Dwarf and his heavy footsteps had a moderately calming effect on him, however strange that seemed.

Eventually they entered a wide open space. Gandalf dared shoot a big ball of light into the air, which showed them a breathtakingly large hall.

‘We are in the great city of the Dwarrowdelf,’ said Gimli. Before he could stop himself, Legolas drifted closer to the Dwarf, zooming in on his voice. ‘It used to be full of light and splendour.’

‘There should be a window here,’ said Gandalf. ‘But it must be dark outside. We may see light here in the morning. In the mean time, let us rest here.’

They huddled together in a corner, shivering from the draughts and peering unhappily into the dark. Legolas sat between Frodo and Gimli. He felt too restless to lie down.

‘This place is remembered in our songs,’ said Gimli suddenly. Legolas heard him stand up and take a deep breath. Then he began to sing:

‘The world was young, the mountains green,
No stain yet on the Moon was seen,
No words were laid on stream or stone
When Durin woke and walked alone...’

His deep voice rang in the wide open space, gravelly at first, but smoothing out when it found the familiar tones. Legolas listened enraptured. It seemed as if his whole being attuned itself to the Dwarf’s voice. Yet he did not zone out, quite the contrary, his senses were calming down, balancing, grounding. His heartrate went down, and his breathing became easier. He found even his eyes relaxing, no longer straining to see in the dark.

‘...But still the sunken stars appear
In dark and windless Mirrormere;
There lies his crown in water deep,
Till Durin wakes again from sleep.’

The last note echoed away in the vastness of the hall and silence fell once again. Legolas wished the song could have gone on forever. It was not until everyone had settled down to sleep that he realised his face was wet with tears.

4. Moria continued

When they woke, they did indeed find a narrow band of light falling from a shaft. And to the north, through an archway, there was another light.

After a quick breakfast, they set off to the northern archway, which widened until they saw that the source of the second light was in a room to the right. When they entered it, they discovered a large tomb.

‘Here lies Balin, son of Fundin,’ read Gandalf. He turned to Gimli’s crestfallen face. ‘He is dead then, I am so sorry.’

Legolas resisted the urge to put a hand on the Dwarf’s slumped shoulders.

‘Look, Gandalf.’ Merry pointed at a big book lying among the bones on the floor.
The wizard picked the book up and with some difficulty began to read it.

‘It’s an account of what happened since Balin arrived here thirty years ago,’ he said. ‘They managed to drive out the orcs and settled here, but sadly the orcs returned and slayed them all in the fifth year of the colony. These are the last words: We cannot get out. The end comes. Drums, drums in the deep.’

A dead silence hung in the chamber for a while. Then Gandalf closed the book, passing it to Gimli.

‘You better take this,’ he said. ‘So we can study if further at a later time. For now, we should get on, and out of this place.’

At that moment a loud boom sounded all around them, followed shortly by more booms. In horror they all looked at each other.

‘They are coming,’ said Legolas, shivering.

‘We cannot get out,’ said Gimli.

It wasn’t long before they were beleaguered by orcs and a troll, and found themselves in a huge fight. Frodo was hit with a big spear, which caused them all to gasp for breath. But somehow the hobbit survived.

Amidst the chaos, Legolas found time to throw glances at Gimli’s squat form regularly. Each instant he found the Dwarf hacking away with his axe. One time he had just been thrown down by an orc, but before Legolas could contemplate going to him, Boromir had taken care of the orc threatening Gimli and pulled him to his feet. Then finally, they had hacked their way out of the chamber and they were running. Except for Gimli.

Legolas turned back as soon as he realised the Dwarf wasn’t coming with them, something in him trembling. When he entered the chamber again, he almost stumbled over one of the dead orcs. Gimli was standing in front of Balin’s tomb, staring at it. What in Eru’s name had come over the daft Dwarf now? Legolas lightly jumped over more dead Orcs until he reached Gimli. He grabbed his arm and pulled him with him, trying to ignore the sudden jolt that went through his body when he touched the Dwarf.

‘Let me go, Elf,’ grumbled Gimli. ‘I am coming.’

Still Legolas held on to him, several emotions flooding him. Irritation at Gimli’s irrational behaviour, which could have cost him his life, worry about reaching the rest of the Fellowship before more orcs came, the blessed calmness that seemed to radiate from the Dwarf, and embarrassment at his own jumbled feelings.

He only let go of Gimli when they reached the others. The Dwarf shook his arm when it was finally freed, and glared at Legolas, who pretended not to notice.

0o0o0o0o0

‘Ai! Ai!’ wailed Legolas. ‘A Balrog! A Balrog is come!’ Dread filled him as he watched the demon in front of them.

‘Durin’s Bane!’ cried Gimli beside him. His axe dropped to the ground as he buried his face in his hands. Legolas moved closer to the Dwarf, readying his bow to defend him if necessary, however futile that would be against an enemy like this.

At the sound of Boromir’s horn the Company seemed to recover from their stupor.

‘Run!’ bellowed Gandalf. ‘Over the bridge! Fly! This foe is too strong for you!’

While Boromir and Aragorn stayed holding their ground behind the Wizard, the others ran off til the end of the hall, where they turned to look.

Filled with horror they saw Gandalf destroy the bridge with a mighty blow of his staff, and then fall down into the chasm with the ancient horror whose whip drew him down.

‘Fly, you fools!’ were his last words. They did not heed them, staring in disbelief, until Aragorn shook them up.

‘Come!’ he cried. ‘Follow me, I will lead you now!’

Running as in a dream they at last fled the dark halls into the light of day. Well out of the walls of Moria they finally halted to catch their breath. Legolas felt like time had slowed down. He watched his fellow travellers as they broke down into tears or stared across the valley blindly. The hobbits had fallen down, clinging to each other wailing. Boromir and Aragorn looked like they could not believe what had happened, eyes dark with half-understood feelings of doom. Gimli had sunk onto his knees, axe still clutched in his hand, the head resting on the ground. Silent tears ran down his bearded face.

Something clenched in Legolas’s chest at the sight of the Dwarf’s distress. He tightened his hand around his bow, wishing for an orc to appear so he could kill it. He desperately wanted to slay whatever caused his companion to be so distraught. But there was no way to slay death, and the Balrog had gone down with Mithrandir. His thoughts faltered. Never again would he lay eyes on the wizard again, it was unthinkable. His mind filled with images of Gandalf. He had known him forever, and now he was gone.

Legolas felt his knees begin to give way, his mind still focusing on all the times he had seen the Grey Wizard. Images began to follow each other up more and more quickly, blending together. He heard a strange noise. Only when a broad hand fell down on his shoulder, did he realise it was he himself who had uttered the strange noise. He was down on his knees, hands in front of his face, his bow fallen down.

The comfort and balance emanating from the touch on his shoulder told him who it was. He looked up to see the worried eyes of Gimli looking at him out of a face streaked with tears.

‘Come, Master Elf,’ the Dwarf said quietly. ‘The little ones need us.’

Looking over at the hobbits, Legolas saw that Aragorn and Boromir were talking to them, trying to coax them out of their grief.

‘We have to move,’ Legolas said, getting up, feeling his weird mood subsiding. ‘We need to be as far from here as possible before nightfall.’ He looked down at his fellow traveller.

‘Thank you, Gimli,’ he said. The Dwarf looked up with a start at the use of his given name. For a moment their eyes locked. Then Gimli bowed his head ever so slightly.

‘Thank you, Legolas,’ he said, before they returned to the rest of the Company.

Chapter Text

5. Lothlorien (1)

They had just crossed the river and were sitting down to eat something. Legolas felt invigorated by being on the outer edges of Lothlorien. He could not restist telling his companions stories about the Golden Wood. Frodo and Sam listened, very interested, while the other hobbits were more concerned with their food. Aragorn and Boromir checked their surroundings, while Gimli stared at the river.

It had been silent for a while after Legolas finished his last story.

‘The river Nimrodel,’ he said quietly. ‘Let me sing you a song of the maiden Nimrodel, who bears the same name.’

And he started, his clear voice rising above the murmur of the river.

‘An Elven-maid there was of old,
A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
Her shoes of silver-grey...’

Legolas lost himself in the song, until he found he could not go on.

‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘I cannot finish the song. It is sad, and tells of how sorrow came to Lothlorien after the Dwarves woke the evil deep in the mountains.’

Gimli, who had been watching him sing with what seemed appreciation, scowled.

‘The Dwarves did not create the evil,’ he said.

‘I never said they did,’ Legolas answered, sighing inwardly. Was the Dwarf really that easily offended? ‘Still, evil came, and the Realm dwindled.’ It was quiet for a while. Then Gimli exhaled.

‘It is sorrowful,’ he said.

0o0o0o0o0

Legolas felt angry, angry that he was forced to be blind when he was crossing into the magical place that was the woods of Lothlorien. Why did he have to suffer this when he was an Elf? It was his right to be here in freedom, not be humiliated among his own kin. Why did Aragorn have to insist they would all be blindfolded just because of the one Dwarf? Why did the Dwarf have to be so stubborn and offended? He felt like stamping his feet like a child in a temper tantrum.

Suddenly someone bumped into him from behind, almost knocking him off his feet. Instinctively he grabbed at the person, who seemed to have lost his footing. A jolt shot through him at the touch. He growled while stabilizing Gimli.

‘Do mind where you’re walking, Master Dwarf,’ he bit. Gimli shrugged off Legolas’s grip.

‘It’s not like I can see my feet,’ he grumbled. ‘Blasted Elves.’

‘If you had only been ...’ Legolas began.

‘Me? How is this my fault?’ Gimli snarled. ‘Dwarves never blindfold visiting Elves. Maybe we should start the habit though.’

‘Walk on!’ One of their guards pushed Legolas’s shoulder.

‘Don’t touch me!’ Legolas snapped. ‘Don’t you dare touch me!’

He began to walk again. Why was he in such a mood? He couldn’t recall the last time he had been quite so irritable. It seemed that every sound, touch or sight set him on edge. Smells had begun to bother him. He knew every sweaty, musty and smokey smell of each of his companions. Gimli for instance.... Legolas turned his head slightly and inhaled. Gimli smelled like fur and leather and iron and wood, and pipe weed, and a hint of fiery smoke, all of that bound together by the sweat of clothes that hadn’t been washed properly in weeks. It was... actually, it was not so bad. Real. Earthy. Not like the hobbits, they smelled earthy too, but lighter, more flowery. Gimli was ... like a mountain, broad and heavy.

Legolas sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. And guilty. Gimli had a point. It were the Elves who refused him entrance unless blindfolded. He listened to the soft thuds of Dwarven boots behind him. Gimli had done nothing wrong. Why had his kin been so inhospitable? Legolas frowned under his blindfold. Gimli was a member of their fellowship, they were on a quest that was important to every living being of Middle-Earth. The Elves of Lothlorien had no right to be unkind to any of their Company. Slowly his anger began to change. No longer was he angry with Gimli for causing him to miss the sights of these woods, instead, he became angry with the Elves that were not only denying their kin this sight, but being impolite to this Dwarf, one of his companions. He realised he was clenching his fists.

‘Calm down, Master Elf.’ Gimli’s grumbling comment startled him. ‘You are stomping along almost as loudly as I am.’

Legolas felt his mouth drop open at his unexpected words. Before he could respond however, they were suddenly stopped, and the blindfolds removed. He stood blinking, blinded by the sudden light, momentarily swaying on his feet. An arm steadied him.

‘Are you quite alright, Legolas?’ asked Aragorn, his eyes worried. ‘You seem a bit off lately.’

‘I will be fine,’ Legolas answered. He managed to keep his eyes open against the light, looking around him. To his right Aragorn stood, tall and calm. To his left Gimli threw him a glance, raising his bushy eyebrows as if asking whether he was feeling better now. His behaviour puzzled Legolas. By all calculations, Gimli should have been grumpy and offended, yet he seemed almost amused, as well as slightly concerned. When he realised he was smiling at the Dwarf, Legolas hastily looked in front of him. The amazingly huge trees he saw there seemed to reach into the skies.

0o0o0o0o0o

When the Lady Galadriel caught his eyes and held them in a long gaze, he found no reason to break the contact, though it was a bit unsettling to feel her thoughts in his mind.
‘Why are you alone, Son of Thranduil?’ she asked without words.

‘I am not alone, Mylady,’ he answered, knowing that she would see through the lie.

‘You are not only alone, but unbalanced, young Prince. Did Mithrandir not know you needed a Guide with you?’

‘I do not need a Guide.’ Legolas straightened his back. The Queen did not communicate anything but a piercing stare from her intense blue eyes. Then her face softened.

‘You may find what you seek in an unexpected form,’ she thought to him. ‘If you have an open mind and a receiving heart.’ Once again her eyes pierced him. ‘Do you, Legolas Thranduilion?’ Without waiting for his answer, she left his mind to turn her attention to Sam.

Legolas let go of his breath, not having realised he had been holding it.

After meeting with the King and Queen, the Company were shown to a clearing where they could rest. The moss was soft and they settled quietly, all still impressed with the Lady of Lothlorien. Gimli especially seemed quite awestruck. Legolas enjoyed seeing the dwarf so flustered, though there was also a small voice within him whispering feelings hitherto unknown to him. He sat himself down next to Gimli, exhaling when he experienced a sudden restfulness.

‘I take it the Elf Witch of whom you spoke has not disappointed you, Master Gimli?’ he asked with a smile.

‘Never again will I speak of the Lady with such words, Master Legolas,’ said Gimli, a little out of breath. He turned to face him, eyes glittering, a light blush on his dark cheeks. Legolas tried to ignore the feeling that bloomed in his stomach upon seeing him like that. His smile faded, however, being replaced with a feeling of unease.

‘Yet you seem enchanted by her,’ he said, noticing a cold tone in his own voice.

‘How could anyone not be enchanted by her?’ asked Gimli. Suddenly he leaned closer to Legolas, whispering to him.‘Did you feel her thoughts as well?’

Legolas was at a loss how to cope with the closeness of the Dwarf’s face. He found himself wondering if the full red beard was as soft as it looked. Flustered, he coughed.

‘I did,’ he said, trying to sound calm. He did not take his eyes off Gimli’s face. The Dwarf smiled.

‘I have never experienced anything like it,’ he said quietly. ‘Is this common among Elves?’

Legolas shook his head.

‘No, it is not,’ he answered. ‘The Lady Galadriel is the single most powerful Elf left in Middle-Earth. She is the only one who can contact other’s minds like this. Except...’ He halted. If he mentioned the mental link between Guides and Sentinels, he would have to explain the concept and he found he was not up to that right now. Gimli was still looking at him.

‘Just... no one else canwhat she can,’ he said, rather tamely, shifting his eyes away from Gimli.

‘I see.’ Gimli did not pursue the subject, but Legolas could feel that he was not entirely satisfied with the answer.

6. Lothlorien (2)

That first night in the Golden Woods, Legolas stayed with his companions. He even slept for several hours, lying down between Merry and Pippin on one side and Gimli on the other. He pondered for a moment about the steadiness that seemed to radiate from the Dwarf again, but his thoughts made his head hurt, and he made the conscious decision to sleep.

The next morning after breakfast, he wandered around in the woods alone, absorbing everything he saw and occasionally talking with some of the Lothlorien Elves. Although the surroundings were peaceful, and he felt his overburdened senses calm down, he found himself unable to go down to the level that was needed. A nagging sense of imbalance stayed with him. Once again he began to question whether he should be on this quest without a Guide.

For the first time in his life he felt a longing in his heart. A longing for someone at his side who could give him the stability he perpetually needed to fight for all by himself. He could be stable in normal conditions, he knew that, but it took a lot of energy. And this quest, everything that happened to them, the company, knowing the difficulties they were yet to face, it all seemed to wear him down, eat at his defenses, throw him off balance.

He leaned against a tall Mallorn tree, eyes closed. He had never been so tired in his life.

‘Brother.’ A soft voice startled him from his thoughts. Opening his eyes, he saw Haldir, one of the Elves who led them to the heart of the Woods. Haldir’s handsome face showed concern.

‘You are not well, brother Legolas.’

‘I will be alright,’ Legolas answered.

The other looked at him.

‘I do not think you will,’ he said. ‘You have strayed too far from your centre. You need to be with a Guide.’

Irritation flared up in Legolas.

‘I do not need a Guide,’ he quipped. Haldir remained calm, not breaking eye contact.

‘Yes, you do,’ he said. ‘It is foolish to deny it. Every Guide a mile around can feel your imbalance. I felt it long before we actually met yesterday.’ He smiled at Legolas. ‘It is true that you are a bit better now, but your imbalance is quite fundamental. You have been off-balance for too long, and you cannot regain it by yourself anymore. Walk with me?’

He made it sound like a question, but Legolas perceived it more as a command. He was vaguely aware that the Guide had already started to influence him. For a moment he let himself be calmed by the soothing presence. Then suddenly something in him protested. Before he knew what he was doing, he forcefully pushed Haldir out of his mind.
The other Elf gasped and stumbled.

‘I am sorry!’ Legolas exclaimed, grasping Haldir’s arm to steady him. ‘I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.’

Haldir stared at him, a strange expression on his face.

‘You are quite strong,’ he said slowly. ‘I am beginning to understand how you have coped without a bonded Guide for so long.’ He paused. ‘You are unbonded, are you?’

Legolas frowned. Any Guide would be able to sense that he was unbonded, why did Haldir have to ask?

‘You know I am,’ he said. ‘Or you would never have attempted to help me without explicit permission.’

‘I do apologize for starting to balance you without asking,’ Haldir said. ‘It was a reflex, caused by your obvious distress. But...’ He hesitated. Legolas looked at him, still frowning.

‘What is it?’

‘For a moment I thought...’ The fair-haired Elf shook his head. ‘I must have been mistaken. Will you please work with a Guide? It does not have to be me if you object to me. There are several Healer Guides here who would be able to help you. You need your strength for the rest of your journey, do you not?’

Legolas thought about this. Haldir was right of course, he did need help, and he had never been obstinate about it before. But he had never been so far down as he was now and the thought of how much deeper the Guide would have to go made him very uneasy.

‘Maybe,’ he said cautiously. Maybe he could find a Guide he could accept for this process. The Elves of Lothlorien were legendary, how could he even begin to refuse any of them helping him?

‘Why do you hesitate, Legolas?’

Haldir’s question seemed innocent enough, but he felt something behind it that he did not quite understand.

‘How long has it been since a Guide helped you?’

Legolas thought back. Then he smiled at the memory.

‘Actually, the last one who helped me with a zone-out, was not really a Guide,’ he said. He felt Haldir’s slight gesture of surprise.

‘So, someone in your Fellowship...’ Haldir began. But Legolas interrupted him.

‘This was before we left,’ he said. ‘The person who helped me was a Hobbit.’

Haldir’s eyes widened.

‘A Hobbit?’ he said. ‘But no other folk have Guides and Sentinels.’

Legolas smiled.

‘That is what I was told,’ he said. ‘But then Bilbo helped me, and he told me of Lord Elrond’s thought that the other folk may have ‘sleeping’ Sentinels and Guides among them. How much do you know of the Dunedain?’

Haldir looked pensive.

‘We have never had much contact with them, but I do know that theirs is a long line, and the one called Aragorn differs from the Men I have met. Do you feel he could be ‘sleeping’, as you call it?’

Legolas nodded.

‘He could well be a hidden Sentinel,’ he said. ‘Lord Elrond speculates that there are ways to wake the ability. Bilbo was taught the ways of Guides, and although I am not sure he is actually able to enter a Sentinel’s mind deliberately, he knew what to do with a seemingly innate ability.’

They were quiet for a while.

‘I wonder...’ said Haldir, throwing Legolas a curious glance. ‘Do you think any of your Hobbit companions could be a sleeping Guide?’

Legolas was surprised by the question. Somehow he never contemplated this. Could any of them be a Guide? Or a Sentinel?

‘I doubt it,’ he said after a while. ‘I have never felt anything, though I suppose that is no definite proof. Meriadoc and Peregrin are nothing but what they seem to be, I am sure. Dear, brave Hobbits, sometimes a bit foolish, but they are still young. Frodo and Sam... they are different. But how much of that is because of the burden Frodo bears? If you look hard, Frodo could be a Hobbit version of a Sentinel maybe, and Sam could in his own way be some sort of a Guide to Frodo. He is always there to support him.’ He thought about it some more. ‘Yet, it does not really feel like they are Sentinel and Guide in the way we perceive it.’

‘The Man of Gondor does seem nothing beyond a Man,’ Haldir stated. ‘And Aragorn would be a Sentinel, not a Guide. But he is not.’ Legolas nodded.

‘So you see, no Guides among our Fellowship,’ he said. Haldir raised an eyebrow.

‘Aren’t you forgetting one member?’ he asked. ‘I know I spoke harshly of him when we first met, but our Lady has welcomed him and graced him with her attention like any of the others.’

‘Surely you don’t mean Master Gimli?’ Legolas said, suddenly feeling the hairs on his arms stand up. ‘No one could think that Dwarves could be Guides or Sentinels.’

‘Why not? We must be honest in this. We could believe it from other races, but not Dwarves? Why is that, Legolas?’

Legolas struggled to find an answer. The arguments he used to have before the journey seemed invalid now that he had come to know Gimli. There was, in truth, no good reason to believe that Dwarves were more unlikely to have Sentinels and Guides than the other races. Suddenly the words of the Golden Lady sounded in his mind. You may find what you seek in an unexpected form. If you have an open mind and a receiving heart.

A trembling came over him and he had to steady himself once more, holding on to a tree. But it could not be possible, could it? Would she have meant...? Everything came flooding in at once. The sudden jolts he had experienced when touching the Dwarf, how Gimli’s presence brought him peace of mind, how the sound of his feet and the rhythm of his breathing helped him when his senses threatened to overload. He gasped, feeling his knees give way. Falling to the ground he buried his face in his hands, trying to get a grip on the turmoil in his mind.

His first reaction to the hand on his shoulder was to shake it off, the touch felt wrong, it was not Gimli.

‘Let me help you, please,’ came Haldir’s voice. ‘I do not presume to be your Guide, I am just a friend, let me help you gain enough balance to be able to function. I will not invade your mind where you don’t want me.’

Legolas tried to regulate his breathing.

‘I will take you to your friends as soon as you are able to,’ Haldir said. ‘Please.’

‘Yes,’ croaked Legolas, hardly able to talk. He allowed Haldir’s soothing influence in, listening to the Elf’s instructions, following the melody of his voice, even though the voice he wanted was so much deeper and gruffer. His stomach hurt from longing at the thought of Gimli singing in Moria. How could he have been so blind and deaf? How could he not have realised? And how could this ever work when the Dwarf wasn’t even really a Guide? He felt panic and longing take him down again.

‘Stay with me, Legolas.’ Haldir sounded tense. ‘Do not go down, stay up here.’

He had both his hands on Legolas’s shoulders now, kneading them. Legolas tried to ignore the thought of strong Dwarven hands, inhaling deeply. The greenish scent of Elf and trees. He managed to stop his fall, but climbing up was very difficult.

‘Legolas!’ A different voice. Aragorn. Running feet, but he was not alone. A warm feeling began to uncoil in his stomach.

‘Master Elf?’ A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, where Haldir’s had rested only moments earlier. The warmth rushed through him. ‘Legolas?’

He could breathe again. Oh, there it was, the scent of home. Leather, iron, smoke, earth. Blindly he reached upwards, his hand finding soft hair. He did not grab it, simply let his fingers card through it.

Someone cleared their throat. Then a broad calloused hand took his, moving it away from the hair.

‘What are you doing?’ asked the gruff voice. He could hear and smell confusion and embarrassment.

‘S-sorry,’ Legolas managed to say. ‘Gimli.’ He wanted the hand to hold on to his, but he dared not fasten his grip, for he was sure the Dwarf would let go if he did. Taking deep, steadying breaths he used the presence of both Gimli and Haldir to climb back to some sort of balance. When he finally emerged, he realised that Gimli was still holding his hand, as well as resting his other hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, looking up into dark, worried eyes.

‘Thank you,’ Legolas whispered. When Gimli removed both hands from his person, Legolas wanted to weep.

‘Did you zone out?’ asked Aragorn. Legolas looked at him, surprised.

‘You know?’ he said hoarsely.

The Ranger smiled.

‘Of course I know,’ he said. ‘Elrond and Gandalf told me. They would not have let me travel without this knowledge.’

Haldir’s hand was still on one of Legolas’s shoulders, providing him with the support he needed.

‘What is happening?’ Gimli sounded worried. ‘Are you ill, Legolas?’

‘He is a Sentinel,’ said Aragorn. ‘And he is without Guide.’

Gimli gasped audibly.

‘So it is true?’ he exclaimed. ‘Sentinels and Guides still exist among Elves?’

Legolas whipped his eyes up to the Dwarf.

‘You know about this?’ he said utterly surprised. ‘Dwarves know about Sentinels and Guides?’

Gimli scowled at him.

‘We are not the cavemen your father seems to think we are, Elf,’ he said grumbling. ‘And you would do well to forget whatever lies and half-truths he has been poisoning you with all your life, and start to believe your eyes.’ He paused. ‘And your other senses I assume.’

Legolas gaped at him. Apparently Gimli had not only heard about Sentinels and Guides, he even seemed to have a fair idea of what it entailed to be a Sentinel.

‘Gimli,’ he said. After a few moments of silence he realised that they were waiting for him to say more. ‘I am sorry,’ he said hastily, feeling his cheeks heat up. He had really only wanted to say the Dwarf’s name. It seemed rather silly to him now.

‘Just stop underestimating us,’ Gimli said. ‘It is wrong, and counterproductive seeing as how dangerous our Quest is.’

Aragorn could not suppress a chuckle.

‘You tell him, Master Dwarf,’ said the Man with a twinkle in his eye that made Legolas wonder how much he had guessed. The very thought made his face become even warmer. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to experience the balancing influence of Haldir. Hesitantly he even dared to reach out toward Gimli with his senses for a moment. But he did not find anything he could connect to on a mental level. Desperation threatened to overtake him. Gimli was no Guide. How could he have hoped?

‘Oh no, don’t,’ said Haldir. ‘Stay here, Legolas.’

‘What is happening?’ asked Gimli. Legolas heard his heart rate go up.

‘He is still very unstable,’ answered Haldir. ‘Legolas, you really need a healing session with a Guide. Stop being stubborn and let me take you to one.’

Aragorn helped him up. Supported by Aragorn and Haldir, Legolas let himself be led back to the Elven city. He could not help listening to the sound of Gimli’s feet behind them.

‘I thought Sentinels and Guides were supposed to be in pairs,’ the Dwarf said after a while.

‘They are,’ said Haldir. ‘But Legolas has no bonded Guide. Yet. Which is why he is vulnerable.’

‘I am not vulnerable!’ protested Legolas. He tried to straighten his back.
Gimli snorted.

‘Considering you can hardly walk, I would say you have some degree of vulnerability,’ he commented. ‘Seems to me you need someone to take care of you.’

‘I can take care of myself, thank you very much,’ Legolas snapped. ‘I don’t need someone to hold my hand.’ Inwardly he crinched as he had to admit to himself that at this moment he very much wanted Gimli to hold his hand. Oh Elbereth, he really needed healing, he had never felt so fundamentally unbalanced in his life.

‘Are you a Guide then?’ Gimli suddenly asked.

‘I am,’ replied Haldir.

‘And are you bonded?’

‘I am,’ Haldir said again. ‘Unbonded Guides and Sentinels are rare. Most of us bond at a relatively young age. Sometimes it takes longer when your fated partner does not live near.’

‘Fated? So even that is true?’ Gimli seemed pensive.

‘How do you know so much about this, Master Gimli?’ asked Haldir.

‘I have always been interested in the tales of history.’

‘You surprise us, Gimli,’ said Aragorn. Legolas could hear the smile in his voice.

‘Ah well, with what most races know or assume about Dwarves, it is not that difficult to surprise them,’ Gimli answered. ‘I suppose it is partly our own fault, what with being so secretive.’

‘You are certainly not like any other Dwarf I have met,’ said Aragorn, still smiling, his voice betraying fondness.

‘As you are not quite like any other Man of my acquaintance,’ replied Gimli. A strange feeling nestled in Legolas’s stomach. He wished this conversation between Gimli and Aragorn to be over.

‘So your history talks about Guides and Sentinels?’ Legolas asked.

‘Aye,’ Gimli said. ‘It is said that Mahal created them in us as well, but Illuvatar did not want us to be so strong physically and mentally and be Guides and Sentinels as well. I guess he was afraid we would rule over his precious Elves if we did.’ His deep rumbling chuckle took away the sting in his words. ‘So he made sure we weren’t.’

‘And how did he do that?’ asked Haldir.

‘Some say he removed it from us completely, others say he merely hid it away deep inside.’

‘Interesting,’ said Haldir after a short silence. Legolas didn’t need to see him to know what he was thinking.

‘Many of our books say that Elves no longer have them either,’ Gimli said. ‘I guess you keep secrets as well.’

‘We all keep many secrets, Master Gimli,’ said Haldir with a laugh.

Chapter Text

7. Lothlorien (3)

‘Yes, I am feeling much better,’ said Legolas. He bowed to the Healing Guide who had been working with him. He did feel better, but still not as he should be. The Elf cleared her throat.

‘Brother Legolas,’ she began tentatively. ‘I could not help but notice something.’

Legolas was acutely aware of the other’s unease. He frowned.

‘I am not sure it is my place to tell you this, but since you will likely not meet with another Guide for a long time after you leave on your Quest again, I feel it is my duty to mention it.’ The Guide fidgeted with her hands, and Legolas heard her faster heartbeat.

‘You see, brother Legolas...’

‘What is it?’ Legolas asked, a little impatiently.

‘Well, it seems...that is to say, I have found evidence of a rudimentary bond in your mind.’

‘What?’ Legolas staggered backwards, falling back onto the bench he had been sitting on.

‘Yes, only rudimentary, you see. As if you have started to bond, but there is some difficulty. It is not something I have ever encountered before, to be honest.’

‘If you have never seen it before, how can you know what it is?’ snapped Legolas. His heart was pounding in his chest. Please let it be untrue. It was not possible that he had already started... A nauseating fear rose in his throat. The jolts, the effect of his voice, the song in Moria, the longing. He leaned backwards, eyes closed. He was doomed. He sat up suddenly.

‘What if you are right?’ he asked aggressively. ‘What would happen to me if such a bond could never develop as it should?’

He saw the Healer’s eyes widen.

‘Why, you think that is a possibility? No, no, if you think there is a faulty bond, you need to seek immediate help with clearing up the problem and have the bond established properly.’

‘Coud it be dissolved?’

‘Dissolved? Why would you want to dissolve it?’ The Elf looked at him in horror. ‘To break a bond that has started to form naturally is very dangerous, surely you know that. It is an absolute last resort.’

‘But what if the other...,’ Legolas swallowed, ‘... person is not able to sustain the bond?’

The Healer frowned.

‘But that is impossible. We are all tested and taught as children. Every Elf knows how to develop and sustain a bond with their fated one.’

Legolas stared at the Guide. Could he trust her? Was she the best person to discuss this with? If only the Lady Galadriel were a Guide. But she was a Sentinel. Her husband, King Celeborn, was the Guide of the pair. Mithrandir would probably know. He felt a pang of sorrow. He could never again ask Mithrandir for his advice.

‘I have to leave,’ he told the Healer. ‘I will think about what you said. Thank you for your help.’ Without waiting for a response he walked away quickly.

Legolas roamed the woods for hours, alone, his thoughts jumbling in his mind. What had he done to deserve this? Latching on to a Dwarf as if he could ever be his fated Guide? Starting to form a bond with someone who was unable to have such a bond? Was Eru so angry with him?

‘Master Legolas!’

He froze, eyes wide, heartrate fast, all the hair on his body standing up.

‘What a surprise to meet you here,’ said Gimli, walking over leisurely. When he was close to Legolas, he looked up and frowed.

‘Are you quite alright, lad? I thought you were with a Healer or a Guide.’

‘Healing Guide,’ squeaked Legolas. He cleared his throat.

‘Umm, yes I was.’

‘You don’t look that much better, to be honest,’ said Gimli, eyeing him. Legolas slid a nervous hand through his hair.

‘I do feel better,’ he said weakly.

Gimli hummed. Legolas closed his eyes briefly at the sound and silently inhaled the Dwarf’s scent. He clenched his fists, trying not to give in to his urge to hug his companion and bury his nose in his neck. If anything, the longing had become stronger since the Healer had restored him to some semblance of balance.

‘What is it like?’ asked Gimli. Legolas started.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Being a Sentinel. As a young lad I often thought about what it must be like.’

‘It’s...’ Legolas did not quite know what to say. ‘It’s tiring and overwhelming, to be honest.’

‘Surely that is because you are unbonded?’ said Gimli, direct as ever. ‘Do you want to find your fated Guide?’

Legolas found himself nodding before he knew it. Then he felt his face heat up and he turned away. He could never tell him, never.

‘I always thought that the Sentinels are the heroes, don’t you agree? Sensing everything, fighters, protectors. Being a Guide must be rather boring.’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Legolas faintly, feeling worse by the minute. ‘It is important though, Sentinels need Guides to function, and Guides have an important function.’

Gimli huffed.

‘Caring and healing. I suppose it is important, but it is not the way of warriors like us.’

Legolas felt his legs give way. He sagged to the ground slowly, cursing inwardly.

‘Legolas?’

He was tempted to swat Gimli’s hand away when it touched him, but it felt so good that he could not do it. He kept his eyes firmly closed, determined not to show the tears that were filling them.

‘What is wrong with you, Master Elf?’ Gimli’s voice sounded unexpectedly soft. ‘You have seen the Healer, then why are you still in such a bad way? Do you have need to find your own Guide?’ When Legolas nodded wordlessly, the Dwarf’s hand began to rub his shoulder soothingly. ‘How come you don’t know how to find her? Or him? Does it have to be a her?’

‘No,’ croaked Legolas. ‘It can be either.’

Gimli hummed thoughtfully.

‘I suppose it’s not really like a marriage,’ he said.

‘It often is,’ said Legolas shyly. ‘Most of the time actually.’

‘I see. Elves do not have the same taboo as Men then.’

‘No.’ After a short silence, he dared ask it. ‘Do Dwarves?’

Gimli chuckled.

‘There aren’t enough female Dwarves around,’ he said cheerfully. ‘My people have no problem with all male marriages.’ He became serious again. ‘But I suppose that being a Sentinal-Guide couple would be different. Special.’

‘Yes,’ said Legolas.

Gimli looked at him curiously.

‘Is that what you meant when you said that nobody can do what the Lady Galadriel can?’

Legolas threw him a glance, surprised at Gimli’s quick mind

‘Yes,’ he confessed. ‘Bonded pairs have a mental connection. The intensity of it varies, but quite a lot of them are able to communicate that way. But only with each other.’

Gimli stared at the ground for a long moment, lost in thought apparently. His hand had stopped moving on Legolas’s shoulder. Then he let out a sigh.

‘It must be really something,’ he said. He squeezed the Elf’s shoulder. ‘Let us go back to the others,’ he continued. ‘I was just taking a short stroll and unknowingly it led me to you. They will be happy to see you, we were all a bit worried.’

He stood up and stretched his hand out to Legolas to help him up. Legolas hesitated for a moment, weary of the jolt he expected. It did indeed come when he touched Gimli’s hand. He saw the Dwarf’s eyes widen, but he didn’t say anything. Had Gimi felt it too? He hadn’t before, Legolas was sure of it. What did this mean? And was it a coincidence that Gimli had found him in the woods twice now?

8. The Lady Galadriel

‘Mylady.’ Legolas fell to one knee and bowed his head.

‘Come, Legolas Thranduilion.’ Her clear voice rang in his ears this time, not his mind. ‘We need to talk.’

He rose slowly and followed the Queen to a small balcony.

‘Sit.’ She patted on the wooden bench, next to where she had sat down herself. Hesitantly he lowered himself to the bench. It was quiet for a while.

‘It has come to my attention that you are not well, Legolas of Greenwood,’ she said. ‘I would like you to tell me why.’

Legolas kept staring at his feet, uncertain what he could say. She waited patiently for him to speak.

‘I may have made an error in joining this Quest,’ he said finally.

‘I disagree.’ Her answer was immediate and though softly spoken there was no mistake in her conviction. ‘Your presence is as it should be.’

‘It is destroying me,’ he blurted out. He bowed his head even lower. ‘Forgive me.’

‘There is nothing to forgive when one states what one perceives as a truth about oneself,’ the Lady said calmly. ‘Tell me, Legolas, is your mind open? Is your heart open?’

He looked up.

‘I think so, yes,’ he said.

‘Are you certain? If your heart is truly open, how is it you despair so deeply?’

Legolas exhaled with such force that it sounded like a sob.

‘Some things are beyond the heart, Mylady. Some things one can only be desperate about.’

‘What things for example?’

He tried to breathe evenly, calm his racing heart.

‘Things like finding oneself reaching out to another who is unable and unwilling to receive.’

For a few moments they sat in silence. Then a soft hand touched his arm and he looked up into Galadriel’s eyes, filled with compassion.

‘How can you be sure they are unable and unwilling?’

‘Because it is evident, and because of his words.’ Legolas fought against his desperation. He did not want to break down in front of the Lady of Lorien. ‘If anything, he wants to be a Sentinel, he thinks being a Guide is unbecoming of a warrior. And I don’t know how to tell him otherwise.’

‘Have you met my Lord Guide and Husband?’ Galadriel asked, a hint of steel in her voice all of a sudden.

Legolas started, mortified at the question.

‘Do you think him unworthy, Legolas Thranduilion?’

‘No, no of course not!’ Legolas started to slide off the bench so he could kneel, but the Lady’s hand rested upon his arm, keeping him seated.

‘Then why did you not mention his name to Gimli, Son of Gloin?’ Her icy blue gaze stared him down. Legolas found himself crumbling under her scrutiny.

‘Might it be that your heart is not as open as you think it is? Might it be true that you do not think a Dwarf could ever be a Guide, and especially not your Guide? Or do you secretly think that Guides are less worthy indeed? You have resisted bonding all your life, why is that, Legolas of Mirkwood?’ Her voice had become more and more cold as she threw her accusing questions at him. He shivered, tried to get out of her grip, but she held him down effortlessly with her hand and her gaze.

‘I ... I don’t know, Milady, please. I have not resisted bonding, I just never found my bondmate.

‘Oh, but you have resisted bonding, haven’t you? I know you did not find your bondmate until now, but you always found that rather convenient, did you not? A fine reason not to have to tag a Guide along?’

‘No, Mylady, please, that is not what I...’

‘Do not lie to me!’ she thundered. ‘And do not lie to yourself, Legolas Thranduil’s Son.’

He wondered at her distinct stress on his father’s name. His father, proud Sentinel, alone ever since his mother sailed into the West. His father, cold and stern, never speaking of his wife, his Guide. Legolas felt as if he was choking. He hardly remembered his mother, he had been only a small child when she left. She left. Legolas suddenly felt a hole in his heart. His mother left her children, and her Sentinel.

‘She left,’ he gasped. ‘How could she leave us? How could she desert her Sentinel when she was bonded to him?’ He clenched his fists. Guides were weak and untrustworthy, how else could she have left them?

‘He never told you?’ The Lady Galadriel’s voice was soft now. ‘Oh Legolas. Oh Thranduil.’

He looked at her, her eyes were moist. It shocked him.

‘Mylady,’ he began.

‘He never let it show, but it destroyed him inside,’ she said. ‘She did not leave because she wanted to, Legolas, but because he made her. You see, your mother was unwell. Her mind, though beautiful and loving, was unstable. Your father did everything he could to heal her, but there was no cure. She was a very strong Guide but she lacked the ability to shield herself and your father was unable to compensate for that. She took on so much of others, and as the darkness in the world began to rise, she could no longer bear it. She had fits of insanity in which she attempted to take her own life. Finally, desperate, your father sent her into the West, knowing that she would find peace of mind there.’

Legolas stared into the Queen’s eyes, trying to make sense of what she was telling him

‘But why did he not follow her?’ he cried. ‘They could have been together!’

‘He had responsibilities. His children, his Kingdom, his Elves.’

‘But we are old enough now, and my brother is well able to rule the Kingdom. He has been for centuries.’

‘I know,’ Galadriel sighed. ‘I have often wondered why your father has not gone into the West. I think his heart has hardened so much, that he has lost the longing and is left with nothing but emptiness and pain.’

Legolas flinched.

‘That is a horrible thought,’ he said quietly, thinking about his father. ‘But I fear you may be right.’

They sat together in silence while Legolas tried to gather his thoughts.

‘Mylady,’ he said tentatively. ‘I am not sure how this pertains to my own situation. Gimli is no Guide, and even if he was, he is a mortal, so he would be lost to me long before my own parting of this world.’

‘First tell me how you feel about Guides in general, Legolas.’

‘I....’ Then he knew what she meant. He buried his face in his hands, deeply ashamed of himself.

‘There is no need for shame, Legolas. Your opinion has been formed as a child, based upon your father’s silence and your wrong interpretation of what happened. It is not your fault. But you need to revise your opinion now. Guides are not weak and unfaithful. Do you have any idea what strength is required to be the foundation upon which a Sentinel is grounded? Do you realize how big a Guide’s heart can be when it is shielded and protected by his or her Sentinel? And lastly, do you see any reason why a Guide cannot be a warrior as well? Could not Sentinel and Guide stand side by side in battle? Would they not make a tremendous force together?’

He did not know how to answer. She was right of course, and he had been too blind to see all this.

‘As for Gimli being mortal, that is something I cannot change.’ She sounded sad. ‘I only know that some things are meant to be, and I think this is one of them. Binding yourself to a mortal, you have several options, as I have told my granddaughter. You have time to think about them.’

‘Your words are wise, as always, my Queen,’ Legolas said. ‘There is one important fact however that I fail to see an answer to. The fact that Gimli is not a Guide, even if I were able to convince him that a Warrior can be a Guide. And even if he would consent to being my Guide.’ Just uttering it made a wave of nausea course through his body. Of course Gimli would never consent to something like that.

‘I have every confidence in you ability to show him that Guide and Warrior are not mutually exclusive. As for him being a Guide or not, have you talked to my daughter’s husband about his theory of dormant types?’

Legolas shook his head.

‘Bilbo Baggins was the one who told me about this theory,’ he said. ‘I have no idea how Lord Elrond thinks that dormant Guides could be woken. I know he had Bilbo instructed by Guides, but that took a long time. It is not feasable in this case, even if Gimli would agree to it. We have an important Quest to undertake.’ He buried his head in his hands once more. There was no way out.

The Lady Galadriel hummed. The sound was so unexpected that Legolas looked up to her. Her expression was pensive. It was quite startling to see her anything other than regally wise, slightly amused and all-knowing.

‘Tell me, Legolas, how has your Gimli been behaving around you? Particularly when you were feeling unwell.’

‘He is not my Gimli, your Majesty, I beg you do not refer to him like that. It is not what he deserves.’

Now she did look amused. And a little pleased.

‘Very well,’ she said. ‘But how did he behave?’

Legolas hesitated, thinking back.

‘He found me in the woods twice, though he did not know where I was. He put his hand on my shoulder on several occasions when I needed support. Not just since we arrived in Lothlorien, he did that earlier as well. He noticed my unease while we were blindfolded, and he enquires after my wellbeing regularly. More regularly than my other companions actually.’

Legolas was frowning by now. Mentioning all these facts in a row did paint a rather odd picture. He found Galadriel watching him intently, a small smile playing around her lips. His eyes grew bigger when he remembered what occurred the day before.

‘I have been experiencing jolting sensations when I touch him,’ he confessed. ‘Until yesterday he did not seem to notice.’

‘But yesterday he did?’

‘It seemed so. But he did not say anything. It was after we discussed the nature of the relationship between Sentinels and Guides.’ He felt his cheeks colour at these words.

‘Legolas, he has unknowingly been behaving like a Guide. He found his way to you when you needed him, unconsciously he has provided you with support. Of course he has not done so like a fully developed Guide would, but he has done these things without any instructions, without any idea. Surely you realise that this is of great importance? And now you say he may have experienced the Touch of Recognition. Something is happening, there is progress. Remember how Elrond thinks that circumstances might trigger a dormant Guide into a true one.’

Legolas heard her words, but he dared not believe them.

‘Think about this, Legolas,’ Galadriel said earnestly. ‘I will think about it too. You have yet some while to stay here and recuperate. Have faith that a solution will present itself.’

Chapter Text

9. Lothlorien (4)

Legolas sat like a statue, trying to look like one and feel like one. Trying to feel nothing when Gimli cast glances at him from across the table where he was sitting inbetween the King and Queen of Lorien. Trying to feel no humiliation while his need and his weakness were discussed.

‘Aye, I think I understand what you are asking,’ said the Dwarf’s deep voice. ‘Legolas needs a stabilizing influence and since his fated Guide has not been found yet, you are asking me to agree to help out. What I am not understanding is why you are asking me this? Why me of all people? I am a Dwarf, he is an Elf.’

The Lady Galadriel looked at Legolas briefly before she spoke.

‘We have found that you, as the strong person you are, are best suited for this out of all the people in the Fellowship.’

Gimli huffed.

‘Surely Aragorn...’

‘Aragorn has other responsibilities. And his strength differs from yours. You are better suited.’

Gimli bowed his head.

‘You know I would never refuse you anything, oh Golden Lady,’ he said.

‘No Gimli, you must not accept this because of me.’ Galadriel sounded quite stern. ‘You can only do this if you truly agree. You cannot help your friend if you do this purely because I ask it of you. And nobody will think ill of you if you refuse. It has to be a free choice.’

Gimli looked up, locking his gaze upon Legolas again, who shivered under it. Yet he did not look away, he could not, for this was too important, however mortifying it was.

‘I would speak with you, Master Legolas,’ Gimli said. ‘Privately.’

They were walking under the trees, the moss soft under their feet. Legolas regulated his steps to the rhythm of the Dwarf’s boots. His breathing slowed and his frantic heartbeat went down.

‘That’s better,’ said Gimli suddenly.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Legolas, surprised.

‘You are calmer now, I can feel it.’ Gimli sounded just as surprised as Legolas. He stopped. Legolas stopped too, and turned to face his fellow traveller.
‘How is it I can feel that?’ the Dwarf asked.

‘You are observant,’ stated Legolas neutrally. ‘You have noticed these things earlier, which is why we believe you can help me.’

Gimli narrowed his eyes.

‘I will be blunt, Master Elf,’ he said.

‘As you always are,’ said Legolas with a smile. Gimli’s eyes widened minutely.

‘Like I said, blunt,’ he went on. ‘You are asking me to basically act as your Guide and I am not sure I like that.’

‘Not as my Guide,’ Legolas said quietly. ‘As a Guide to me.’

Gimli shrugged.
‘Whatever. The fact is, you ask me to function as a Guide.’

‘And you don’t like that,’ said Legolas. ‘Because it is unbecoming of a warrior.’ He smiled weakly. ‘Do not worry yourself, friend Gimli, acting as a temporary Guide for me will not make you less of a warrior. When we spoke earlier, I failed to address this, which I regret now. You have met Haldir, you have met the King, do you think they are less because they are Guides? You do not even know how many of the Elven fighters you met are Guides. Do not think Guides are less worthy.’

Strange how easy the words came when he himself had thought ill of Guides for so long. The Queen had showed him his error, but the thing that convinced him most of all was the thought of Gimli being a dormant Guide. Gimli could never be anything but a fierce warrior, true to his word, reliable and loyal. Therefore it followed that Guides were nothing like he had thought them to be. Guides were just as strong and honourable as Sentinels. He looked at Gimli.

‘You could be an actual Guide and never be anything else than what you have always been. Proud, strong and fierce. A true Dwarven Warrior.’

He had the satisfaction of seeing Gimli’s mouth drop open.

‘Well,’ said the Dwarf after a while. ‘Well, if you put it like that.’

‘I do,’ answered Legolas. Gimli looked up at him, an inscrutable expression on his face.

‘So,’ he said. ‘What would you require of me?’

‘Simply that when I need it, you allow me to stay close to you, or you place your hand on my shoulder or talk to me.’ Or sing to me, he thought to himself, but he did not say it out loud. ‘That you help me calm down when I lose control, like you did the day before yesterday. But I think that is less likely to happen when you help me stay balanced by your presence.’

‘That is all?’

‘It would be beneficial if you allow me to sit next to you when you sleep. You would not experience any extra trouble and it would help me.’

Gimli hummed.

‘So really all you need from me is to stay close from time to time, talk a bit and slap you on the shoulder?’ His eyes twinkled.

‘There you are, it’s not so bad, is it?’ Legolas chuckled.

‘Master Elf,’ Gimli sounded serious now. ‘Legolas. I am honoured by your request, and I intend to agree with it, after I have spoken with a Guide and ascertained that I can indeed do this for you. I will not risk taking on the task and finding out that I am unable to comply with it after all. Will you lead me to Haldir?’

Legolas blinked.

‘Y-you are willing?’

‘Willing if I am indeed able.’

Legolas dropped to one knee in front of Gimli and bowed his head.

‘Thank you, Gimli, son of Gloin,’ he said quietly.

‘Now look here, none of that, lad. Up with ye, can’t have ye kneeling like I’m royalty.’

Legolas looked at him, their eyes at similar height now.

‘Next time someone wants to put a blindfold on you, I will willingly wear one too,’ he said. ‘Indeed, if they allow it, I will take it in your stead.’

‘That is a mighty promise, Master Elf,’ said Gimli with a laugh. ‘And make no mistake, I will keep you to it.’

‘I would not have it any other way, Master Dwarf.’

0o0o0o0

Gimli had long conversations with Haldir and his Sentinel, during which apparently he found his confidence, for it had not been three days since their meeting with the King and Queen that he approached Legolas to tell him that he would accept acting as his Guide during their journey. Legolas almost hugged him, but managed to restrain himself.
After that, they took to walking the woods together, talking not only of the situation but of themselves and their quest. Legolas learned many things about Dwarves and Gimli in particular and his appreciation of his companion grew even more.

Legolas had asked Gimli and Aragorn not to tell the other members of the Fellowship about him being a Sentinel and Gimli’s new task. They had both frowned, but did not object openly. He knew the hobbits were curious about the newly found friendship between Elf and Dwarf, but they did not ask direct questions.
Gimli’s adoration for Queen Galadriel seemed to have increased after all this, and he never passed an opportunity to praise her. Legolas found himself growing weary of it. He dared not look into his motivation for this too closely.

When Gimli had the audacity to ask the Lady for a strand of her hair, and she granted him not one but three, Legolas’s body tensed up. But when Gimli turned to him, face radiating with awe and joy, he could do nothing but smile at his friend.

It was hard to leave the peaceful woods of Lothlorien. He felt restored, balanced to a point he had not been in years. Several sessions with a Healer and the walks with Gimli, during which they practised some of the Guide techniques, had indeed made him more wholesome than he remembered ever being.

Slowly they paddled away from the Golden Woods.

‘Have faith.’ A final parting thought from the Lady. He was resolved to follow her advice.

10. Parth Galen to Fangorn

Legolas shot his last arrow while watching Gimli slay the other remaining orc. They did fight well together, each anticipating the other’s moves as if they could read one another’s mind.

‘That way,’ he yelled, not waiting to see if his friend followed him as there was no need. The dull thuds of his boots were always behind or beside him these days. Firm and sure as a stone anchor.

They found Aragorn kneeling beside Boromir’s fallen body, his head bowed down, tears falling from his eyes. The son of Gondor had perished then. Legolas allowed sadness to drive away the adrenaline that had flowed through his veins.

‘’Tis a sorrowful day indeed,’ said Gimli next to him. He turned to watch him. The Dwarf seemed sad, but there was a steeliness about him. He looked up at Legolas, an unspoken question in his eyes.

‘I am alright,’ Legolas assured him. Gimli nodded and fixed his attention on Aragorn, who had stood, looking at the ground.

‘Where are the hobbits?’ asked Gimli.

‘I do not know,’ said Aragorn. ‘Boromir went after Merry and Pippin, but they aren’t here. It is possible the orcs took them.’ Legolas inhaled sharply at this. Gimli’s hand was suddenly  on his arm, familiar warmth spreading from it.

‘Sam was with me originally,’ continued Aragorn, ‘but he must have turned back. Maybe he managed to find Frodo. We will have to search for them.’

They did not find any of the hobbits, but when they returned to their resting spot after having sent off Boromir’s body in a fiery blaze, they found that two packs were missing, one of them being Sam’s. This could only lead to the conclusion that they had fled together, determined to go the rest of the way alone. Aragorn stared solemnly at the other side of the river.

‘Why did they flee from the orcs without us?’ asked Gimli.

‘I am not sure it was the orcs they fled from,’ answered the Man, not willing to disclose what he meant by that. Legolas reflected upon Boromir’s absence from the earlier discussion and his demeanour when he returned. He thought he knew what Aragorn was implying. This Ring was a dark evil indeed if it was able to corrupt a noble man like Boromir.

‘The Ring is out of our hands now,’ Aragorn decided. ‘We will follow the orcs and find Merry and Pippin.’

Both Legolas and Gimli nodded at this, sharing a grim smile with each other.

‘We will be the Three Hunters. Come follow me!’ shouted Aragorn, and they started running.

0o0o0o0

For days they ran, but their enemies kept ahead of them, seemingly not resting at all. The broche they found gave them hope that the hobbits were still alive, but fatigue set in. Gimli had been running like Legolas would never have thought possible, but he was tiring now. His obvious growing despair weighed heavily on Legolas’s mind and he wished he could do something to help him. But the only thing he could do was watch over his companions while they slept the few hours they had to take out of necessity. Sitting as close to Gimli as he dared without making him uncomfortable, Legolas tried to transfer some of his own endurance to his friend. His Guide but not a Guide. If he had indeed been a developed Guide, Legolas would have been able to help power him from his own strength. As it was, he could but hope that somehow it would make a difference.

Staring into the dark he pondered upon the last two weeks. Gimli had honoured his promise as well he could. And it was well indeed. He seldom strayed from Legolas’ side, even when there was no real need. Although Legolas tried to let him know when he did not need his support so close, the Dwarf chose to stay with him. And it did him so much good. Legolas was still as firmly balanced as he had been when they left Lothlorien. There had not been one single instant where he faltered or threatened to zone out. The moment he felt the slightest waver, he just had to focus on the sound of Gimli’s breathing or his steady scent. At one point Legolas had realised that Pippin had begun to throw the two of them curious glances, and he had proceeded to whisper something to Frodo. Frodo apparently rebuked him, for Pippin had shut up. But after that Legolas had felt Frodo’s gaze on him from time to time, as well as Pippin’s bright quick eyes.

Legolas sighed inaudibly. If there was one drawback to this deal, it was that he had become so attached to Gimli that he could hardly contemplate to lose his company anymore. It was a rather strong and uncomfortable drawback. His thoughts strayed to the relationship a Sentinel could, would have with his Guide and his stomach clenched when a wave of longing went through him. Not for the first time he forced these thoughts away. It would not do to dwell on these feelings. They were impossible. And when the time came and their ways would part, he would bear it as best he could. Still, he could not prevent a deep sadness taking root in him this night. He sighed again. This time maybe not as inaudible, for he heard someone stir.

‘Are you alright, Legolas?’ Gimli’s sleepy voice was not well-suited to whispering.

‘Shh, yes, I am. Go back to sleep,’ Legolas whispered. ‘Do not wake our comrade.’

‘If you’re sure, me lad...’ Gimli trailed off and his soft snoring filled the silence of the night once again, leaving Legolas to wonder how the Dwarf had managed to pick up on his unease while he was so fast asleep.

0o0o0o0

Gimli’s hand was firmly gripped around his axe’s handle as he stared fiercely up into the eyes of Éomer son of Éomund, who had dared to slight the Lady of Lothlorien.

‘You speak evil of what is fair beyond your comprehension,’ he grumbled. ‘Only lack of wit can be your excuse.’

Legolas saw the Man of Rohan tense up.

‘I would  cut off your head, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground,’ said Éomer.

‘He does not stand alone,’ said Legolas, an arrow already on his Lothlorien bow. ‘You would die before your stroke fell.’ Seeing his Gimli being offended and threatened had brought his blood to the boil. He felt his body burn with protectiveness. He would take them all out before even one hair of Gimli’s blessed beard could be touched.

As Aragorn intervened and tension slowly dwindled, Legolas noticed his legs trembling. He inhaled deeply, still eyeing the Rohirrim around him with a glare.

‘Enough,’ rumbled Gimli quietly. ‘Ease down.’ The riders did not seem to have heard Gimli’s words, but they did notice when he put his hand on Legolas’ arm. He saw some of them whisper to each other. He tried to ignore this, focussing on Gimli’s touch and the calm it spread.

Aragorn and Éomer spoke for a considerable time, their companion explaining the situation, and it gave them much worry to learn that the group of orcs they had been pursuing had been killed and burned by the Rohirrim. Yet they had not found anything other than orcs, so hope still remained that the hobbits were alive.
Eventually Éomer gave them two horses, and when Gimli was helped upon Arod behind him and closed his arms around his waist, Legolas found himself very much looking forward to the next part of the journey.

It didn’t take them too long to find the pile of burnt orc carcasses. Legolas almost fell to the ground when he dismounted, the stench was unbearable. Gimli managed to glide off the horse by himself and steadied the Elf by grabbing both his arms.

‘Legolas? Can you hear me?’

He nodded vaguely. The smell was consuming him, pushing his other senses away.

‘I... I cannot... Gimli?’

‘Listen to me, laddie,’ Gimli used the special tone Haldir had taught him for zone-outs. ‘Listen to my voice, Legolas.’

Legolas closed his eyes and focussed on Gimli’s voice, the voice he loved so much.

‘Do you hear me, Legolas? Lower your sense of smell, down, down you go.’

He tried several times, but did not succeed. He felt the Dwarf starting to tremble as his attempts did not work, his voice became strained, making it even less likely he would succeed.

Desperate, Legolas threw himself down on his knees, wrapped his arms around Gimli and buried his nose in his neck. He inhaled deeply, surrounded by hair and beard, again and again, until the smell of home began to drive away the horror. Only then he became aware that Gimli was still talking to him. His voice sounded different now, there was a hint of something that had not been there before. Also his arms pressed Legolas even closer.

‘That’s alright, me lad. Does that help? Just stay there as long as you need. Can you hear me yet? Can you lower your sense of smell now? Just take it down a bit.’

Legolas let out a shivering sigh.

‘You can hear me now? Just nod if you do.’ Legolas nodded against the Dwarf’s shoulder. He moved his arms up and down Gimli’s broad back, trying to feel as much of him as he could, even if it was through layers of Dwarven clothes and armour.

‘Did you lower your sense of smell yet? Do it a little more. And some more.’ This time Legolas managed to do as Gimli told him.

‘Can you try to lift your head for a bit?’ asked Gimli after a while. ‘See if you you can tolerate it now? Don’t worry if you can’t, just put your nose back where it was.’

Reluctantly Legolas lifted his head, surfacing from the mass of Dwarven hair. He breathed slowly in and out. The smell was still there, but no longer overwhelming. He toned his sense down some more until he felt he could bear it quite easily. He did not want to let go of Gimli, but he would have to. He removed his arms, felt Gimli do the same, and sat back on his heels. His eyes were still closed, head turned down. He found it difficult to face his friend.

‘Legolas?’ Had Gimli’s voice ever sounded so soft? He felt rough fingers cup his jaw and lift his face. ‘Legolas, will you look at me?’ He obeyed, blinking, aware of the heat of embarrassment on his face. Gimli’s dark eyes studied his features, a slight frown on his brow.

‘Are you really alright now?’ he asked, voice still soft. ‘Or is there anything more you need? Do not hesitate to ask, my friend.’

‘I am sorry,’ he whispered. The fingers on his face tightened slightly, then let go.

‘Don’t apologize,’ Gimli said gruffly. ‘This is why I agreed to this, so I could help you. Do not apologize.’ He stretched out his hand. ‘Can you stand up? I am not used to your face at the same height as mine, it is unsettling.’ Legolas crinched before Gimli’s chuckle made him realize it was a joke.

‘Oh, come on, Legolas, on y’r dainty feet with ye! You don’t have those long legs for nothing!’ Gimli was grinning now, and Legolas found himself smiling. He let Gimli help him up. He held his hand for a moment longer and suddenly noticed that there had been no jolting sensation. Before he could think about that, Aragorn spoke up from a little away, where he was inspecting the ground.

‘If you are well enough, could you look at this?’

Gimli and Legolas hastened over to him.

‘Did you find anything?’ asked Gimli.

‘The ground is trampled, both by the fight and by Éomer’s men assembling and burning the orcs, but here, away from the main action, there are faint tracks, leading into the forest.’ They all looked at the trees, looming over them. Fangorn was not a forest to enter lightly.

‘Can we follow the tracks just a little bit further away from the fire?’ asked Legolas. Aragorn looked up at him, frowning.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked, apparently guessing what Legolas was planning to do. Legolas nodded.

Searching painstakingly thoroughly, Aragorn managed to follow the minute tracks a short way into the forest.

‘This will do,’ said Legolas. He turned to Gimli. ‘Will you help me, my friend and Guide?’

He saw Gimli’s eyes widen. It was the first time he had ever called him this, but he felt he could not do otherwise. What Gimli had done, what he had allowed, Legolas now could not see him as anything else than his Guide. His current Guide at least. Suddenly he worried that Gimli would take offense. He opened his mouth to assure him that it was only temporary, but before he could speak, the Dwarf nodded.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘What do you need?’

‘Could you just lay your hand on my shoulder while I scent the trail?’ Legolas asked. ‘And maybe talk to me, or ... sing or hum something.’  He felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. Gimli looked amused.

‘I am not in the habit of humming, Master Legolas,’ he said, good-humoured. ‘I am not an Elf, singing half the day.’ When Legolas cast down his eyes, still uneasy about what he was asking of him, Gimli patted his back.

‘You have to stop taking me so seriously, laddie,’ he said softly. ‘You should know me by now.’

Legolas looked at him.

‘I always take you seriously, Gimli,’ he said. To his surprise it was the Dwarf who now cast down his eyes.

‘Just get on with it, will ye,’ he said gruffly.

Legolas kneeled where Aragorn indicated the trail was. He bent over, nose to the ground and slowly turned up his sense of smell. Gimli stood next to him, one hand on Legolas’ back. He was not speaking or singing, but the firm press of his palm was reassuring.

‘I think,’ Legolas allowed more of his smelling sense to work. ‘Yes, I can smell them. Hobbits.’ He moved his head from side to side, covering a broader area. Here, this is Pippin I think, his scent is a little sweeter than Merry’s. And here,’  He inhaled deeply. Suddenly a whiff of the burnt orcs hit him. He shuddered. Gimli’s hand squeezed his shoulder immediately.

‘You alright, lad?’

Legolas bent down deeper, his nose almost in the grass. The earthy scent drove away the smoke.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘This is Merry.’ He looked up at Aragorn. ‘They went into the forest.’

‘Well done,’ said Gimli. He sounded proud. Legolas thought he meant the hobbits, but when he looked up, Gimli smiled at him, eyes wrinkled, and suddenly he thought that maybe Gimli meant him. And that made him uncommonly happy.

Chapter Text

11. Fangorn to Rohan

Fangorn was an oppressing forest. Even Legolas felt uneasy walking among the trees. Gimli put his hand on his axe time and again, only removing it when Aragorn or Legolas threw him a warning glance.

‘There!’ said Legolas. ‘I see him again, an old man, it must be Saruman. Do you see him?’

The others looked where he pointed, but apparently did not. He took out his bow and readied an arrow.

‘He is approaching us. No, not your axe, Gimli.’ He pointed the arrow at the vague figure coming toward them.

‘Well met, friends,’ the man said. ‘I wish to speak to you.’

Now his companions noticed him too.

‘Stop him, Legolas!’ cried Gimli, fighting the urge to grab his axe.

‘Did I not say I wish to talk to you?’ said the old man. ‘Drop that bow, Master Elf!’ Bow and arrow fell to the ground, as Legolas’s fingers let go of them beyond his will.

‘And do not touch your axe, Master Dwarf.’ Gimli’s hands dropped down. Deducing from the outraged expression on his face, he too had been forced to do so.

‘Who are you?’ asked Aragorn, who did no try to unsheath his sword, having seen how the man had forced his friends to abandon their weapons.

‘Ah, my name, yes my name. But first things first. What is your tale? Tell me.’

None of them answered.

‘I know you are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits,’ he went on. ‘But since that particular errand has become a lot less urgent now, why don’t we sit down and discuss your tale?’

He turned from them and walked toward a big rock nearby. It was like a spell ended and immediately all three of them grabbed their weapons.

‘What did you do to them?’ cried Gimli, springing towards him. ‘Where have you taken them, Saruman! If you do not tell us, I will crush your head with my axe!’

The wizard jumped up the rock, turned around and in a flash of light his grey rags fell from him, uncovering a shining white robe. The weapons flew from the three warrior’s hands.
Suddenly Legolas saw. His senses threatened to be overwhelmed by light and joy. He reached out, grabbing Gimli’s shoulder.

‘Mithrandir!’ he cried, falling to his knees. ‘Mithrandir!’

‘Well met, Legolas,’ the old man said.

They all stared at him, white and bright, burning with a strange power they had never seen before.

‘Gandalf?’ Aragorn asked, eyes wide.

0o0o0o0o0

After they had recovered from their shock and after Gandalf informed them about what had happened to him while battling the Balrog, and everything he knew about Merry and Pippin and the Ents, they agreed with his decision to go to Rohan and left the forest. Gandalf called their horses to them, and Shadowfax as well. They mounted, Gimli firmly at Legolas’s back again, and set off.

For many hours they rode, but late at night they found a place to sleep for a few hours. While Aragorn and Gimli laid themselves to rest, Legolas stood looking over the plains, worry filling his stomach.

‘You have changed, Master Elf,’ said Mithrandir. Legolas turned to look at him.

‘Not really,’ he said. ‘I am still Legolas Thranduilion, unbonded Sentinel from Greenwood.’

Gandalf’s eyes glistened in the light of the stars.

‘Are you?’ he asked, his voice a slow rumble.

Gimli snorted in his sleep and Legolas could not help seeking his form immediately, in case something was bothering his friend. When he looked back at Gandalf, the Wizard’s face was amused. Legolas walked over to him and sat close. He was quiet for a moment. Mithrandir always knew things he was not supposed to know. Legolas sighed.

‘A bond cannot be one-sided,’ he said softly.

‘That I agree with,’ the wizard replied. Legolas looked at him.

‘And a Sentinel cannot actually bond to one who is not a Guide,’ he said.

‘That I agree with as well,’ said Gandalf, blowing out a perfect smoke ring.

Silence ruled once more, only interrupted by small grunts from the sleeping Dwarf. Legolas closed his eyes, focusing on Gimli, sensing his calm heartbeat and even breathing, inhaling the whiffs of Dwarven scent that drifted over, and generally basking in his calmness. He startled when the wizard chuckled quietly.

‘You cannot fool me, Legolas,’ he said, warmth in his voice. ‘What do you say about the words the Lady Galadriel sent you through me? If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore, Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more.’

When Legolas did not answer, he continued:

‘It seems that forest and sea are no longer the only two options for you to rest your heart, my friend.’

‘What if they still are?’ Legolas asked, barely audible. Gandalf drew another mouthful of smoke and puffed it out into the night.

‘I don’t think so, young Legolas, I really don’t think so.’ With that, he stood. ‘I will keep watch. Lay yourself down at your friend’s side and sleep. It will be morning soon enough.’

Chapter Text

12. Helm’s Deep

The multitude of orcs seemed unending. Legolas had resorted to using his knives since he had run out of arrows and it was near impossible to reclaim used ones in the chaos. Dodging the sword of an orc and stabbing it with his knife in the same smooth movement, he cried out:

‘That’s 39!’

‘Ha! 41!’ he heard Gimli’s voice nearby.

They had fought side by side during most of the battle, though it was inevitable that they were driven apart from time to time. They always seemed to find one another again however.

Legolas had no problems with his senses. He had found the perfect balance for battle, one that allowed him to hear, see and smell whatever he needed, without being overwhelmed. He had always been a competent warrior, even without a Guide. It was a Sentinel’s natural state. Of course, having Gimli close made him even better. He found that he fought almost effortlessly, anticipating the moves of his enemies and managing to hit them exactly right.

As he killed two more orcs in one swift move, he suddenly heard a roar. He felt it in his bones.
‘Gimli!’ he screamed, turning around, failing to notice the orc whose axe hit him on the head. Darkness enveloped him.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

‘Legolas!’

‘Gimli.’

‘Legolas, can you hear me?’

‘I hear you, Gimli.’

‘Legolas! Blasted Elf, come back to me!’

‘I am here, Gimli my love.’

‘Legolas, please, can you hear me?’

Legolas frowned.

‘Oh please, Mahal, Yavanna, Aulë, anybody, bring him back!’ There was a distinct feeling of panic in the Dwarf’s words. Legolas tried to sit up. That was when he realised he did not seem in possession of his body. Or at least, he was unnervingly unaware of it.

‘Gimli?’

PanicWorrySorrowLossAngerFear

‘Gimli! Why can’t you hear me?’

Legolas focussed on his own hearing and suddenly it dawned upon him that he was not actually hearing anything. To test this theory, he toned his hearing sense up and down. It made no difference.

‘Legolas...’ This one was accompanied by a sob, or the non-vocal equivalent thereof. His Dwarf was in utter distress, it was unbearable and unacceptable. Legolas gathered all his power and sent out a mighty roar.

‘GIMLI! I HEAR YOU!’

Shocked silence.

‘Legolas?’ Tentative.

‘GIMLI!’

‘But how...what...?’

‘SING TO ME!’

‘What...?’

‘SING! PLEASE.’

DisbeliefFearWorryHopeDetermination

For several moments all was quiet. Then, far away, Legolas heard a song drifting up. A deep melodious voice, guttural Khûzdul words. Slowly the melody rose up, gaining strength, vibrating in his bones, filling his heart.

‘Gimli...’

The voice faltered for a moment, picked up again.

HopeWorryWonderTenderness

Legolas drew a stuttering breath before he was swept to the surface, suddenly overwhelmed by human voices, noises, smells and pain. He cried out in agony. The singing stopped. Strong arms drew him in, pressed his face into soft hair. It smelled of blood and orc and dirt, but beneath that he recognized leather and iron and smoke and familiar sweat.

‘Down, tone it all down.’ Urgent words. ‘But not too much! Stay with me.’

Bâhel-you are here-you are back-thank Mahal-stay with me-don’t leave

Legolas turned down his senses to a level that made it bearable. He sighed, sinking deeper into Gimli’s hair. He put his arms around the Dwarf.

‘Gimli,’ he said, aloud this time.

‘Let me see him,’ said a female voice he did not recognize. ‘His wound needs attending.’

‘Legolas, me lad.’ Gimli only pressed him closer.

‘Master Dwarf...’ said the woman.

‘Let them, just for a moment longer.’ He recognized Aragorn’s voice. ‘The Dwarf is his Guide.’

The woman inhaled sharply but did not comment.

SurpriseHesitationPrideTendernessWorry

Slowly Legolas pulled himself up, just far enough that he could look at Gimli. His friend looked horrible. His face was streaked with blood, mud and tears, and a bandage was wound around his head. But in his eyes burned a fire he had never seen there before. Legolas rested his forehead against Gimli’s.

‘My Guide,’ he whispered. ‘You heard me. You are truly my Guide.’ Only now did he become aware of the tears on his own face.

‘I don’t understand exactly what happened,’ said Gimli hoarsely. ‘But you’re back and that is all that counts for now. This healing lady wants to take a look at your headwound, are you up to that?’

‘Yes,’ said Legolas, lifting his head. He smiled at Gimli, his heart overflowing with feeling. Gimli’s eyes suddenly widened and were then cast down. Legolas frowned, but he had no time to reflect on this.

‘Master Elf, will you let me look at your head, please?’

Leglas let the woman attend to his wound while he took in his surroundings for the first time. He was lying on a bed in a large hall filled with beds and people. Gimli, who had been seated next to him, had put him down gently and gotten off the bed. He stood with Aragorn, who looked dirty and tired, but largely unscathed. The Man smiled down at Legolas.

‘You had us worried, friend,’ he said. ‘I am glad you are still with us.’

‘As am I,’ said Legolas. A thought just entered his mind. ‘Oh, Gimli, I ended up at 41, how many did you get?’

The Dwarf looked surprised for a moment, then beamed a smile at him.

’Ha! I beat you at 42,’ he said. ‘Though that was the one that got a good blow at me before I finished him.’

‘That must have been the cry then,’ Legolas said without thinking. He flinched when the Healer touched his wound.

‘Cry?’ Gimli was frowning.

‘I heard you cry out, that is why I was diverted or that orc would not ...’

‘I did not cry,’ said Gimli indignantly. ‘Really, do you think I would cry out?’

‘You didn’t?’ Legolas was staring at him. From the corner of his eye he saw Aragorn chuckle.

‘What?’ He cast the Man a dark look.

Aragorn started laughing out loud now.

‘Really, you two!’ he grinned. It earned him frowns from the both of them. ‘I thought you were smarter than that. Can you really not think what happened? Not even after the way Gimli brought you back?’

‘Oh,’ breathed Legolas when he understood. He looked at Gimli and saw that he did not comprehend at all. Was this the time and place to discuss this?

‘There,’ the healer said, fastening his bandage. ‘You better be careful, it’s not too serious, but you received a hard blow to the head and I would prefer it if you at least stayed in bed for a few hours, get some sleep.’

‘Gimli,’ Legolas began.

‘Why don’t I tell Gimli what I think has happened and you two talk after Legolas has rested,’ Aragorn said. Legolas looked at him sharply.

‘What do you know?’ he asked.

‘Rivendell has been my home, remember,’ said Aragorn. ‘I know about Bilbo, and Elrond’s theories.’

‘Bilbo Baggins?’ asked Gimli, bewildered. ‘What theories?’

‘I will tell you, Gimli. You rest, Legolas and you will speak in a few hours.’

‘Wait!’ cried Legolas, when they were about to leave. ‘The battle, how is it going?’

‘It is over,’ answered Aragorn. ‘Gandalf and Erkenbrand arrived here just in time and tipped the scales in our favour. Many of the orcs have fled and the remaining ones were beaten while you were unconscious. Rest now, my friend.’

With that they left Legolas to his thoughts. They prevented him from sleeping for quite a while.

Chapter Text

13. The Hornburg

Legolas was looking over the outer wall of the Hornburg. The battlefield was a grim sight. The wind blew the smells away, or Legolas could not even have been where he was without becoming overwhelmed. His heart was heavy, for he knew he must face Gimli soon, and it filled him with both dread and longing. For a moment he rested his head on the unforgiving stone of the wall, letting out a deep sigh.

‘Are your sorrows that big, Master Elf?’

He almost jumped. How could he not have sensed him coming? Legolas turned to his side to watch Gimli. His friend’s expression was grave. Legolas found he could not speak. They looked at each other, and Gimli’s face fell.

‘I see they are,’ he said quietly. ‘It must pain you so to have a Dwarf for a Guide.’

Legolas stared at him. Gimli turned away, looking at the people coming and going a bit further into the fortress.

‘No, Gimli! How can you think that!’ Legolas cried. ‘How can you not know?’

Gimli continued to look away. His shoulders were stiff. Legolas resisted the temptation to try and seek some sort of mental contact. It would not be right, not now. He wasn’t even sure it would work outside special circumstances like what happened earlier.

‘Look at me, my friend, my Guide,’ Legolas pleaded. ‘Look me in the eyes and see what my pain is.’

Finally Gimli turned, looking up at Legolas.

‘Forgive me if this makes you uneasy,’ Legolas said, ‘But I cannot hold this conversation with you straining your neck.’ He dropped to his knee, to find his face at Gimli’s height.

The Dwarf looked embarrassed.

‘Let us both sit,’ he said. ‘For I cannot bear you kneeling before me.’

So they sat side by side, leaning against the wall, silent for some time.

‘You have pain then,’ Gimli said at last.

‘Can you reach out through our Bond?’ Legolas asked instead of answering. He heard Gimli’s heart rate go up.

‘I find I do not want to try,’ he said hesitantly.

Legolas took a deep breath.

‘What exactly did Aragorn tell you?’ he asked, feeling that perhaps they should address this first.

‘He told me that some persons may be Guides or Sentinels without knowing it and without being developed. And that it was believed that I could be such an undeveloped Guide. Your Guide even. And that now, somehow during the battle, I have become a true Guide and our Bond has been forged.’

Legolas nodded.

‘This is also what I believe,’ he said quietly.

Gimli suddenly sat up straight, looking at him.

‘Don’t ye think ye should have told me this?’ He sounded angry. ‘Instead of feeding me some poppycock about me being observant?’

‘I...I did not...’

‘You hoped it wasn’t true, didn’t ye? That Elrond was wrong.’

‘No! No...’ He hesitated.

‘I knew it!’ Gimli made as if he was going to get up. Legolas grabbed his arm.

‘No! It is true that at first I could not believe it. You know how I felt about Dwarves before I met you, and you must know how much that has changed. But you don’t know how I felt about Guides. I wasn’t even aware of it myself. My mother...’

‘Your mother?’ Gimli sounded incredulous. ‘What does your mother...’

‘She left. She was my father’s Guide and she left!’ His voice rose up to a high note. He let go of Gimli’s arm.

‘She did what?’ Gimli frowned, then anger rose in his eyes. ‘Do you mean to tell me that your mother left her bonded Sentinel?’

Legolas nodded. Gimli’s anger increased, Legolas could sense the changes in his body. It gave him the strangest feeling in his stomach.

‘But... how could she do that? You told me the bond between Sentinel and Guide is like a marriage, only more special, fated and literally bonded together. How could she leave him? Oh Legolas!’ His hand gripped Legolas’s arm, squeezing it painfully hard.

‘I have since learned why,’ Legolas said. ‘She was ill and could no longer stay in this world, so my father sent her to the Undying Lands. I can bear her no grudge anymore, although it still hurts my heart. But when we spoke, I did not know that yet. You made it clear that you admired Sentinels and thought that Guides were boring and weak. I did not know what to tell you. I thought you would never want to be a Guide.’ The grip on his arm eased a little.

‘But later you spoke of Haldir and King Celeborn, and other Guides who were soldiers and warriors.’

‘That was after the Queen spoke with me.’

Gimli let go of his arm.

‘She spoke about this with you? About me possibly being a Guide?’

‘Yes.’

‘What did she say?’ Gimli’s voice was small and tense.

Legolas swallowed. He had all but forgotten how smitten his friend had been with the Lady. The feeling in his stomach changed into something else. Jealous of someone he could never compete with.

‘She told me to keep an open mind and an open heart. She told me to hope. And she pointed out how you had been behaving like a Guide to me without knowing anything about it, and how she thought that must mean something. She told me how a Guide and Sentinel could stand together in battle and be a force to be reckoned with. As we have demonstrated, you and I.’ He inhaled deeply. ‘And when I despaired about you being willing to even consider it all, she told me she believed that some things are meant to be.’ Legolas rested the back of his head to the wall and closed his eyes.

‘She is truly magnificent,’ Gimli sighed.

Legolas balled his fists.

‘Why are you upset?’ asked Gimli.

‘I am not upset.’

‘Yes, you are, I can feel it.’

Legolas did not answer.

‘Legolas, what is your pain?’

‘There is no pain.’ He knew it was useless to try and conceal it from his Guide, but he could not bear to speak of it.

‘Legolas, what do you want of me?’

‘I cannot tell you,’ Legolas whispered, keeping his eyes firmly closed.

‘You hide from me, my friend,’ said Gimli quietly. ‘I am not experienced enough to read you through our Bond, but I can feel you hide things. Things you did not hide when you looked at me in the Healing Hall.’

Legolas swallowed.

‘I am sorry, I should not...’

‘What do you want Legolas?’ Gimli interrupted. ‘Tell me what you want.’

‘You!’ Legolas cried suddenly. ‘I want you, our Bond, everything.’ He buried his face in his hands. There it was, out in the open. Nothing to do anymore but accept what would come.

‘Me, or the Bond?’

Frowning, Legolas let his hands sink into his lap.

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s a simple question,’ said Gimli, his voice sounding strained. ‘Do you want me or the Bond?’

‘Well,’ Legolas did not comprehend. ‘Both of course, I mean, you go together.’

‘Do we?’

Why was Gimli suddenly angry and sad at the same time?

‘I do not understand, please help me understand.’ He looked at the Dwarf, but Gimli refused to meet his gaze.

‘I mean, do you want me because of the Bond, or do you want me because of me?’ His voice was very quiet now.

Understanding dawned on Legolas. For a moment he could not breathe. The implication of Gimli’s question made his heart beat faster, but he realised he would not be able to give him the answer he wanted to hear.

‘I have no way of knowing,’ he finally said, just as quiet.

‘Would you have looked at me twice if I had not been your ‘dormant’ Guide?’ Gimli asked, voice a little stronger, filled with a mixture of pain and anger.

‘I rather think that I would have looked at you a lot more frequently than twice,’ Legolas said. ‘But I have no way of knowing, since I cannot be anything else than a Sentinel, and I cannot undo the fact that I must have felt something of our bond in you right from the start.’

‘I hate this fated business,’ said Gimli vehemently.

‘Why are you so upset, Gimli-nîn, what difference does it make?’

‘Don’t you understand?’ Dark eyes were burning in his. ‘I will never know what you see when you look at me: your fated Guide or Gimli.’

‘They are one and the same.’

‘No, they are not! I have been Gimli for 139 years. I have only been your Guide for a few weeks.’

‘You have been my fated Guide for the same 139 years, Gimli. As I have been your fated Sentinel since hundreds of years before you were born.’

Gimli jumped up.

‘You are just determined to misunderstand me!’ he cried.

‘I am not. I truly do not understand why this gives you so much pain, my lovely Gimli.’

Gimli froze.

‘I...’ He stared at Legolas, wide-eyed. ‘Did you just call me lovely?’

‘I did.’

‘I am a Dwarf, you are an Elf. You cannot call me lovely!’

‘Why not?’ Legolas tried very hard not to smile.

‘Dwarves aren’t lovely, Elves are.’

‘Are you now calling me lovely, Master Dwarf?’ Legolas teased. Gimli’s face turned several shades darker.

‘That is not the point!’

‘I rather think it is.’ Legolas was serious now. ‘I called you lovely because to me you are. Your hair and your beard are lovely, your eyes are lovely, your smell is lovely.’

‘My... smell?’ Gimli’s eyebrows all but disappeared in his hair.

‘You have the most marvellous smell,’ Legolas said dreamily. ‘It feels like home.’

Gimli let himself slide to the ground again. He looked at Legolas open-mouthed.

‘My smell feels like home...’ he repeated. Legolas nodded. Gimli sighed deeply.

‘Sentinels are strange,’ he stated.

‘Maybe we are,’ Legolas chuckled. ‘I suppose we cannot help it.’

Gimli was quiet for a while.

‘Still,’ he said. ‘I do not understand why an Elf like you would look at me with anything but disdain.’

Legolas sat up straight.

‘This is it, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘This is why you find it so difficult. You think that no Elf could ever look upon a Dwarf favourably without a predestined bond. You think that without the Bond I would find you repulsive.’

Gimli groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

‘Must you be so clever?’ he asked.

Legolas did not smile. Instead, he took Gimli’s hands and removed them from his face.

‘Gimli, I cannot tell you what I would think of you had we not been what we are. I hope I would still wish to be with you, but I can never know. I want you to consider this though: if my opinon of you is coloured by our Bond, what do you imagine colours your opinion of me?’

Gimli gazed at him for a long time. Slowly his face relaxed. He turned his hands over, weaving his fingers through Legolas’.

‘You are right. Dense Dwarf, eh?’

‘Stop that, Gimli. You are not dense, or repulsive. You are fierce, smart, lovely and attractive.’ Saying that, Legolas experienced a surge of longing. He hid it hastily, but Gimli’s eyes betrayed that he had sensed it. Slowly a broad smile spread over his face.

‘I think I could come to like this Bond,’ he said, grinning. Legolas blushed. Gimli disentangled one of his hands and touched Legolas’s cheek.

‘Talk about attractive...’ he murmured absently.

‘Not beautiful as she is, though,’ said Legolas. He regretted saying it immediately. Gimli’s forehead wrinkled.

‘Who?’

‘Your Lady.’

‘My lady? I have no lady. What are you talking about?’

‘The Lady of Lothlorien.’

‘The Lady of ... You aren’t serious!’ Gimli looked at Legolas as if he had lost his mind. ‘You think I look at her like that?’

‘Like what?’ mumbled Legolas, eyes cast down. Gimli burst out laughing.

‘You are jealous!’ he cried. ‘Jealous of the Lady Galadriel!’

‘I am not!’ insisted Legolas.

‘Oh yes you are,’ said Gimli, but he no longer sounded teasing. ‘And you have absolutely no reason to be. I admire the Golden Lady, you know that, but that is completely different from what I feel for you.’

His words hung in the air between them.

‘What do you feel for me, Gimli?’ asked Legolas tentatively.

When Gimli did not answer, he looked up. Gimli leaned towards him, eyes darting to his lips and back up. One moment they were frozen in place, the next they were kissing hard, lips crashing on lips and teeth. Legolas groaned when Gimli’s tongue entered his mouth greedily, almost overcome by the sensation of tasting, touching and smelling Gimli all at the same time.

WantNeedLongingPassionMineLustLove

They parted, gasping for breath, looking in each other’s eyes.

‘Did you...’

‘... feel that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Mahal!’

Gimli claimed his mouth again, slower this time, deeply, lovingly. Legolas lost himself in his Guide’s kisses, clawing his hands in his tunic, then sliding under it, fingers seeking bare skin. The sensations of a beard lightly scratching his face, soft moans, Gimli’s smell of home, strong arms around him, pulling him close like they would never let him go, lips on lips and tongue, warm and wet, a rough hand in his hair, sliding to his neck...

‘Bloody hell!’

‘Hey, you!’

Both Gimli and Legolas jolted when a boot firmly nudged Gimli’s backside. They were on their feet in a second. Two soldiers stood in front of them, stern expressions on their faces. Legolas quickly assessed the situation. No weapons were drawn and he did not sense an immediate violent threat, so he refrained from grabbing his dagger and stopped Gimli with a short touch, instinctively stepping in front of him. Of course the Dwarf immediately moved to stand next to him.

‘I don’t know what you lot get up to,’ said one of the Men, ‘but if you have to act unnatural, do it behind locked doors.’

‘For God’s sake,’ the other one said. ‘There are women and children here!’

‘We are sorry,’ said Legolas, raising his hands in a disarming gesture. ‘We did not mean to give offense. We will be going now, alright?’

‘Yeah, you better.’

Walking away, they heard one of the Men muttering.

‘An Elf and a Dwarf, and both males! Whatever is the world coming to!’

Gimli and Legolas turned their heads as one and looked at each other. A broad smile lit up Gimli’s face, while Legolas chuckled. As they strolled off, Gimli’s hand lightly brushed against his Elf’s long leg.

Chapter Text

King Théoden, Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas and a party of Rohirrim had left for Saruman’s tower swiftly, not giving the newly bonded Sentinel and Guide any time to be together privately or talk about things they would have to discuss. They had to content themselves with a few stolen kisses and hidden touches. But they could not hide the happiness in their eyes, and it made Aragorn and Gandalf exchange amused glances.

It was a grim ride to Isengard. The woods were angry, though not with the riders from Rohan. Gimli held on to Legolas, pressing himself to his back.

‘Do not worry yourself, Gimli-nîn,’ said Legolas. ‘You are quite safe with me. I am an Elf and thus a friend of trees, and I am also your Sentinel, so I will protect you with my life.’

‘All the same,’ the Dwarf grunted. ‘I can’t wait to leave these woods. And I’ll have you know that I do not need your protection, I have my axe and that is enough.’

Legolas laughed, clear and happy.

‘Nevertheless, you have my protection, since it is my instinct and my duty. And I give it to you willingly and lovingly.’

To that, Gimli’s only response was to rest his head against Legolas’ shoulder.

When at last they rode upon the grounds of Isengard, the destruction there shocked them all. Besides the tower, nothing much was left standing.

And lounging between the rubble were two hobbits.

‘Well, hello, masters Took and Brandybuck!’ Gandalf exclaimed. ‘How good it is to see you here.’

Merry bowed.

‘Welcome,’ he said. ‘If you have come to see Saruman, he is momentarily detained within the Tower. You may try to speak with him at your pleasure, though I doubt it will actually be very pleasurable.’

‘I thank you, Master Meriadoc,’ said Gandalf. ‘Is it Saruman who left you with the task of greeting guests?’

‘Ah, no, that would be the new management, namely the one called Treebeard,’ said the hobbit. ‘He instructed me to welcome the King to Isengard, and so I do.’ He bowed to Théoden, who had been watching with a smile.

After having spoken to the hobbits, Théoden, Gandalf and the riders went off to the Northern wall to speak with Treebeard. But Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli remained with Merry and Pippin.

‘How is it that you are sitting here, indulging yourself in food and ale and pipe-weed?’ exclaimed Gimli. ‘You rascals had us so worried and now look at you!’

Pippin laughed.

‘Why, Master Dwarf, it sounds like you missed us.’ He looked up at Gimli, still seated behind Legolas, one hand loosely on the Elf’s hip. The hobbit’s eyes glistened. ‘Although you seem quite cosy there.’

‘You!’ cried Gimli. ‘I have a good mind to come down and show you cosy!’

Both hobbits, Legolas and Aragorn laughed at this.

‘Come now, my friends,’ said Merry. ‘If you follow us, we have found us a nice storage room with enough food and drink to share.’

So they dismounted, Legolas helping Gimli down with both hands and a soft expression on his face. Pippin watched them with interest.

The room turned out to be dry and filled with goods. Gimli was most grateful when the hobbits bestowed a package of the finest Longbottom Leaf pipe-weed on him. He turned to Legolas, his face wrinkled with pleasure.

‘If you will excuse me, my Kurdûn, I simply have to go outside and smoke a pipe.’

Legolas smiled at his happiness.

‘Of course, Gimli-nîn.’

‘I will accompany you if you lend me some of that pipeweed,’ said Aragorn, and they went outside. Merry followed them, but Pippin took Legolas by the sleeve and held him back. His face was alight with curiosity.

‘So,’ he said. ‘What did Gimli just call you?’

Legolas laughed.

‘You know,’ he said. ‘I have no idea.’

Pippin looked very disappointed.

‘However,’ continued Legolas. The hobbit perked up, eyes full of anticipation. ‘I have to assume it is some term of endearment.’

Pippin clapped his hands.

‘I knew it!’ he exclaimed. Legolas could tell his excitement was honest, and it pleased him to sense no trace of condemnation in their small companion. He decided to tease him a little longer though.

‘We are very good friends, you see,’ he said with a straight face. Pippin scowled at him.

‘Good friends, hmm?’ The hobbit cocked his head, throwing Legolas a calculating look. ‘So, what did you call him?’

Legolas laughed again. The clever hobbit had him.

‘Gimli-nîn,’ he said, grinning.

Pippin waited, but when no more words came, he scowled again.

‘Don’t tell me you have no idea what that means either!’ he cried.

‘It means ‘my Gimli’,’ said Legolas.

At that moment, Merry looked around the door.

‘Are you coming?’ he asked. ‘Aragorn wants to know our story. We have to tell him everything about Treebeard and the Ents!’

Gimli was surrounded by a cloud of smoke when Legolas came outside. He looked very happy. Legolas went over, sat himself beside him, and with a pointed look at Pippin, he put his arm around the Dwarf’s shoulders in a decidedly possessive way. Gimli chuckled when he saw Pippin’s delight and leaned into Legolas with a contented sigh.

Their rest did not last long, for the events at Isengard then started happening at a fast pace.
They went to speak with Saruman and witnessed him bewitch King Théoden, but Gandalf had the best of him. Then Gríma Wormtongue threw the dark orb at them that turned out to be a Palantír, a dangerous connection to the Dark Lord of Mordor.
After that, they set out to go back to Helm’s Deep, and during their travels they were met by a group of Aragorn’s Dúnedain, who had travelled to join their leader. And Elrond’s sons Elladan and Elrohir were with them. Aragorn greeted them with joy, and introduced his companions to them.

During the night, when they took a few hours rest, Pippin could not withstand the Palantír’s lure and looked into it. Gandalf decided to take the young hobbit with him to Minas Tirith and handed the Palantír over to its rightful owner, Aragorn. Just as they were about to part ways, a terrible shadow passed over them. A Ringwraith, one of the Nazgûl. And they were motivated to depart with haste, Gandalf and Pippin to Gondor, the rest of them to the Hornburg, where they arrived near morning only to fall into bed to get a few hours of rest.

0o0o0o0o0o0

When Legolas awoke, the day already nearing noon, he saw that Aragorn had not slept in his bed in the room the three of them shared. Gimli was still asleep. Legolas stared at him for a few minutes, then he rose and went to lock the door. Quietly he walked to Gimli’s bed, lifted the covers and slid under them, lying on his side so he could watch his Dwarf. Gimli stirred, making a soft noise. Still mostly asleep he turned on his side, his face close to Legolas’. The Elf smiled lovingly. He reached out and gently stroked the full red beard, braids undone for the night. Gimli’s eyes flew open. For a short moment he stared at Legolas, then he broke into a wide open smile.

‘Good morning, Azyûngel,’ he said in a hoarse morning voice. Legolas shivered at the sound. He surged forward and closed his lips over Gimli’s. His sound of surprise soon transformed into heated moans as Legolas slid his tongue into his mouth, pushed him on his back and pressed his body against him. Legolas buried his hands in the Dwarf’s hair, pulling his face closer, deepening his kisses. Gimli wrapped his arms around him, dragging him right on top of himself. Legolas gasped as he became acutely aware of Gimli’s obviously already existing arousal. He could not resist grinding against his groin.

‘Oh Mahal,’ groaned Gimli. ‘Legolas, maybe we shouldn’t...’

‘Aragorn isn’t here and the door is locked,’ Legolas whispered into his mouth, moving his hips again, feeling himself grow hard.

‘Ah...oh, Legolas!’ Gimli arched his back, thrusting upwards. ‘I won’t last long...’

‘Nor I,’ breathed Legolas. He was kissing Gimli again, open-mouthed, panting. He contemplated pausing to remove their underclothes, but Gimli didn’t give him a chance. The Dwarf hooked his feet around Legolas’ legs and they ground together, kissing and groping desperately. Legolas managed to find a patch of bare skin under the red hair and lavished his lover’s neck with kisses. Something surfaced that had been brewing inside him since their first embrace and he was overcome with the very primal urge to mark his Guide. He took a deep breath and bit him just above the collar bone.

‘Mahal!’ Gimli yelled, bucking. He was so close, Legolas sensed it in every way possible.

YesYesLegolasOhSoClose MineMineMyGimliComeGimli

‘The Bond,’ he panted. ‘Connect to me...Ae, Gimli!’ He reached out with his mind and they connected with a jolt. It was enough to send Gimli over the edge and as he arched and cried Legolas’ name, Legolas followed him and they were joined together in an endless moment, falling in blinding light.

Breathless they surfaced into the world, unable to do anything but hold on to each other. When they slowly became aware again, Legolas noticed something had changed.

‘What in Eru’s name just happened?’ said Gimli dazedly. ‘That was amazing! And ... I can feel you in my mind. I mean, not like reading your thoughts, but ...’

‘ ... as a presence. I know, I feel it too.’

They looked at each other, eyes filled with wonder.

‘What do you think happened?’ asked Gimli.

‘I think we took the Bond to the next level,’ said Legolas slowly. ‘Or we confirmed it, or completed it or something.’ He frowned, trying to remember what he had learned about this as a young Elf, but it was so long ago and he had always pushed away the knowledge, as he had pushed away the idea of bonding.

Gimli kissed him gently.

‘Don’t pain yourself, love,’ he said, swiping a finger over Legolas’s frown. ‘I think it is wonderful, whatever it is.’

Legolas smiled at him.

‘I was just trying to remember. But you are right, it doesn’t matter. And I agree, it is wonderful. More than wonderful.’

They kissed again, slowly, tenderly, savouring every moment. Finally Legolas slid off Gimli and flopped on his back.

‘I fear we should clean up and get out of bed,’ he sighed. ‘People are probably expecting us.’

‘They can wait a bit longer,’ said Gimli, taking Legolas’ hand and pulling him in again, arms around him. Legolas rested his head on Gimli’s broad chest, listening to his heartbeat. They drifted off to sleep again, until a knock on the door woke them.

Chapter Text

15. The Paths of the Dead

Gimli uttered Khûzdul curses under his breath. He was a Dwarf, a creature of mountains and caves, and now he hesitated to enter, while his Elf, who lived and breathed under the open sky, had no such qualms. There he was, just inside the entrance, looking back with that bright smile of his, stretching his hand towards him.
Damned if he was going to take that hand. He took a deep breath and walked through the Dark Door.

They were walking almost blindly again, with only a few flickering torches further up ahead where Aragorn led the Grey Riders, the group of Dúnedain and Elrond’s sons. And he was walking behind Legolas again. But everything else was different. Lothlorien had been quite safe, even with the Elves behaving rudely to him. In here all the hairs on his body seemed to be standing up. He had the strangest feeling, as if the air was thicker, making it more difficult to breathe. He found himself focussing on Legolas’ presence in his mind. It was all still very new. Things had been so busy today with Aragorn's mad plan to walk the Paths of the Dead, that they had had no time at all to cope with this. Not that there was anything to cope with, really. Sensing Legolas with him permanently was just fine, and oddly reassuring. Not that he needed reassurance, let that be clear. Except just now, maybe ...

- Always with you Meleth-nín

Gimli started. Blasted Elf.

- Isn’t the Guide supposed to be the more mentally active one in the relationship?

Legolas chuckled. It echoed eerily in the dark caves. It startled everybody and Gimli grinned at the wave of embarrassment that hit him through the bond. Somehow the dark seemed less scary for a moment. Clumsily he reached out to his Sentinel, sending him something that would translate as an amused hug, and waited to see if he would get an answer. It came immediately as a flood of affection so strong that he almost lost his footing.

- Careful you foolish Sentinel

- I apologize Guide Mine Need to adjust the level

- I’d say

AmusementFondnessTenderness

- Better

He could feel Legolas keeping in his chuckle this time. This Bond-thing was turning out really nice, though distracting. But that was just as well right now actually.

As they trod on, his thoughts strayed to his Sentinel. Still felt strange to call him that. Natural too though. Like they belonged together. He had always belonged to a family, felt at home in Erebor, yet this bond he shared with Legolas was of a different order. He couldn’t see him very well in the dimness, but he didn’t need that to see his image in his mind. His tall, fair, elegant Elf, his tough yet sensitive Sentinel. He marvelled that such a creature could be for him.

He could feel Legolas’ presence stir. Oh bother, he would know what he was thinking, right?

- Can you read my thoughts?

- Only when you send them directly like we are doing now

Relief

Amusement - I can feel your mood though – I just hope you were thinking about me

- Cheeky

Laughter

- I was

- I love you Gimli

He felt himself blush in the dark, as if Legolas had said it out loud. Imagine the reaction of the Dúnedain.

- Back at ye Legolas

HappinessJoyBliss

- For Aulë’s sake don’t start singing

A choked sound, soft enough to be covered by their footsteps, but he still caught it and he grinned broadly.

Then the company halted. Far ahead he heard Aragorn shout something. Time seemed to flow in strange directions when a coldness began to rise from the rocky floor. Gimli daren’t look behind when they started to walk again. He was last in the row and he had the distinct impression that there were shadows following him. The skin on his back rippled and prickled and he felt as close to fear as he had ever been. Suddenly he bumped into Legolas, who had stopped without Gimli noticing.

‘I will take the rear,’ the Elf whispered, somehow managing to sound as if he would not tolerate any protest. Gimli for once had no desire to argue and swallowing his pride he pressed past him. Legolas laid his hand on his shoulder for a moment, somehow projecting confidence into Gimli, who had to admit that he was glad that his Sentinel had his back. He promised himself that he would return the favour as soon as he had the chance. Breathing more freely, he hastened to catch up with the main group, aware of Legolas right on his heels.

It seemed to take a very long time to pass to the other end of the mountain. To occupy his mind, Gimli let his thoughts wander back to Legolas.

When he first saw him, in Rivendell, he had thought him like any other Elf. He found them rather pretty to look at, though his fellow Dwarves would have scolded him for thinking this. They preferred the beauty of hair and beard, stockiness and muscle.

He had known exactly who he was, this Legolas. Son of Thranduil, the Elvenking who had imprisoned his father so long ago. Yet, impossibly, he had found it hard to hold this against him, especially when he saw more of him during their travels. He had discovered that he liked to watch the Elf. The blueness of his eyes, his long legs, the lightness with which he walked on his ridiculously thin shoes, the simple elegance of his fighting, the devastating accuracy of his arrows and daggers. And he had not shown the typical arrogance of Elves. Much.

Gimli frowned at other memories. Legolas had seemed very queasy sometimes, especially in Khazad-Dum. It had worried him, though at the time he hadn’t understood why. He had thought that it was concern for the safety of the Fellowship. After all, they had no use for a jumpy Elf who was no good in a sticky situation. It had been pretty shocking to see him fall to pieces after they exited the Mines. He remembered feeling a strange satisfaction when he, Gimli, had been able to get him out of his stupor. Of course, now he knew why.
Legolas was right, they had both been influenced by their fated bond from the start, and there was no way of knowing what would have happened without it. It was no longer important. It was good what they had going here. Really good. Even if it meant that he was a Guide and not a Sentinel. Strange, that. Never took himself for the caring type, but with Legolas it sort of came naturally. Of course, the lad did need someone to take care of him. And by Mahal, would he take care of him. He could think of a few ways...

- Thinking about me again?

- Damn you nosy Elf

Laughter

And then they were out. Legolas could see the Dead following them, he said. A see-through army of dead soldiers, a host of shadows. Quite the company. Gimli shivered. He was helped back on the horse behind Legolas and the Grey Riders went on their way, followed by their cold, silent army.

They rode to the Black Stone, where Aragorn demanded the allegiance of the Dead, promising them release after they had helped him. And then they went on, riding for days, until they arrived at the haven of Perlargir. There they found the fleet of the Corsairs, ready to sail to the aid of the forces of Mordor who were at that very moment attacking Minas Tirith. And there Aragorn called upon the Army of the Dead, who were true to their silent word, chasing away all the troops that manned the fleet until none were left. Aragorn released the Shadow Host, but in its stead people came from all around Perlargir, armed and ready to come to the aid of Minas Tirith.

So they set sail, Aragorn’s black standard on the foremost ship, hoping to arrive in Minas Tirith on time. And Gimli stood on the bow, the wind in his hair and his arm around his Elf’s waist, not caring what Men might think or say. For whatever would happen next, they were in this together, Guide and Sentinel, and they were indeed a force to be reckoned with.

Chapter Text

16. Pelennor; Minas Tirith

It was in the middle of battle that Gimli suddenly froze. He had just dodged the sword of an Easterling and hewed him down, when he saw Legolas getting hit by an orc, roll over, jump up and chop its head off. The Elf’s sleeve was torn open and red blood trickled down. It was not a serious wound by any standard, and Legolas threw Gimli a wink before grabbing his bow and aiming three arrows at once at a troll that was slowly making its way over. But Gimli had suddenly been struck by the fact that death was a very real possibility here. Not that that was a new observation, but somehow it just now hit him in the head like a warhammer.

Legolas could die here and that was completely wrong. Legolas was immortal, he should never die. He should never leave Gimli. He ... and that was when he froze. Legolas would live on long after Gimli had died. Legolas’ Guide was destined to leave him after a ridiculously short time in an Elven life. Gimli felt sick to the bone. He stared at yet another Easterling coming for him, unable to lift his axe, paralyzed.

An arrow whizzed past him, catching the enemy midstride.

- Gimli! What is wrong?

Legolas was beside him, stabbing with his long daggers, killing the enemies that Gimli should have been fighting. The Elf seemed to be everywhere around him, protecting his Guide like a perfect Sentinel warrior.
Gimli shook himself out of his stupor. This was not the time to think about this, they were in the middle of a battle.

He felt worry and support coming to him through the Bond. He raised his axe and glanced at Legolas, sending him reassurance.

- I am back, sorry

And once again they fought in unison, a macabre dance, spilling blood and ending lives to protect what was good in Middle Earth.

When the fields of Pelennor bathed in the red light of the setting sun, the battle was finally over. The last enemies had fled and Minas Tirith was safe for now.

Side by side Legolas and Gimli walked the streets of the White City, on their way to the Houses of Healing. Legolas’ arm brushed against Gimli’s shoulder every other step, he was clearly craving physical contact but dared not initiate it out here on the streets among Men. Gimli grabbed the Elf’s hand and placed it firmly on his shoulder. To Mordor with Man’s sensitivities, his Sentinel needed him. He felt Legolas relax a little.

Gimli didn’t know yet how to use the Bond to help Legolas balance, so he did the only thing he could: send him love and support. He imagined wrapping him in soft Warg furs, cushioning his overburdened senses. Legolas gave a very long sigh and Gimli felt tension drain from him. The hand on his shoulder squeezed him lightly.

- Thank you, my Guide

It was only then that Gimli noticed how much attention they were attracting from the people in the streets. He felt Legolas begin to remove his hand from his shoulder, but he would not have it. He placed his own hand over his for a moment.

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘They will have to accept. It’s not as if we are kissing.’

Legolas smiled and kept his hand where it was. He cocked his head, listening.

‘They are not talking about my hand on your shoulder,’ he said after a while. ‘They tell stories of the battle, of us fighting. Apparently they appreciated it.’

He laughed, his clear voice ringing over the humdrum of the people. Many heads turned. They must make quite the pair, thought Gimli. Legolas, though dirty and bloodied, was still strikingly beautiful, walking proudly beside his Guide. Gimli straightened his back. He may be short and stocky, but he was just as proud to walk here with his Sentinel.

Suddenly Legolas began to sing. His hand shifted from Gimli’s shoulder to his neck as Elvish words rolled off his tongue in a mesmerizing song. Gimli knew that the song was for him, and that it was a song about love and hope, and it made him blush.

When they arrived at the Houses of Healing, where they were to visit Merry and Pippin, Legolas finished the song, looking at Gimli with so much affection in his eyes that he thought his knees might buckle.

They were led to where Merry was recuperating and Pippin was at his side. Both jumped up when they saw their friends, running towards them and hugging them.

‘You are here!’ cried Pippin. ‘We heard you were alright, but it is so good to actually see you.’

‘As it is to see you,’ said Gimli, smiling fondly. ‘And are you healing well, master Meriadoc?’

‘I am,’ said Merry. ‘Éowyn is still in a bad way, but they say she will recover as well.’

‘We have heard a little about your adventures,’ said Legolas. ‘You and lady Éowyn have accomplished the remarkable feat of slaying the Witch-king of Angmar. Songs will be made about you!’

Pippin was rocking back and forth on his feet, apparently bursting to say something.

‘There will be songs about you too!’ he exclaimed, looking from Gimli to Legolas. ‘Do you know what they are calling you? The Rock and the Wasp!’

Gimli raised his eyebrows.

‘It’s true,’ said Merry, smiling. ‘Rumours spread like wildfire about an unlikely pair on the battlefield. One wielding his axe, feet firmly on the ground, the other buzzing around him, stinging and cutting with arrows and daggers. It must have been quite a sight.’

‘An unlikely pair, that’s us alright,’ said Gimli, grinning at Legolas.

‘Is it true you went the Paths of the Dead?’ asked Pippin. ‘Will you tell us about it?’

‘Let us go outside and find a nice place to sit and we can tell each other everything,’ proposed Merry.

So they did. And Gimli watched Legolas tell about the Paths of the Dead and the rest of their journey, and while his heart rejoiced in seeing his beloved tell their tale with bright eyes, the gloomy thoughts he had on the battle field began to return to him. He felt his mood sink until, by the time they had to leave a tired Merry, it had hit an absolute low. Legolas cast him worried looks, but the hobbits didn’t notice anything amiss.

They left their little friends and went out on the walls on the higher levels of the citadel. In a quiet sheltered little corner they found a stone bench that looked out over the city.

‘What is troubling you, Meleth e-guilen?’ asked Legolas. ‘I feel such dark thoughts in you.’

‘What is it you call me?’ asked Gimli, trying to evade the question.

‘It means Love of my Life,’ he said, with a sweet smile that Gimli could hardly look away from.

‘Oh Legolas,’ he sighed. ‘My Azyûngel.’ His shoulders slumped and he hung his head. Immediately Legolas’ arms were curled around him, kisses pressed on his head. Love, worry and anxiety radiated from the Elf.

‘What is it, my love? What has you down so?’ he asked frantically. ‘Is it the war? The Ring? Sam and Frodo? But no, I don’t think it is. This is more personal, and it has to do with me. What happened on the battlefield?’

For a moment Gimli just allowed himself to feel enveloped by Legolas’ arms and warmth. Then he took a deep breath.

‘I realised that I will have to leave you,’ he said quietly. Full out panic burst over the Bond, nearly knocking him unconscious.

- No no don’t leave me You can’t leave me You love me, you said you loved me

‘Legolas!’ Gimli grabbed the Elf’s face between his hands. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I won’t go away, please calm down, I’m not going anywhere, I do love you.’

SorrySorrySorryMyLegolas

‘Then what do you mean?’ Legolas’ eyes were filled with tears. Gimli felt a great ache in his heart.

‘I mean that I am mortal, my Muhudel. With luck I will live a good hundred years yet, maybe a few more, and then my little life is over, and I will have to leave you to live on.’

Legolas drew a deep breath. Relief swept over the Bond.

‘Oh, that,’ he said. Gimli looked at him in utter disbelief.

‘Oh that? Is that all you have to say?’

Legolas’ hand cupped Gimli’s jaw.

‘I know you are mortal, Gimli-nîn,’ he said. He leaned towards him and kissed him softly and deeply. Then he withdrew and looked him in the eyes. ‘I know you will die eventually. I...’ He cast down his eyes and let go of Gimli’s face. Gimli felt him somehow dim the connection they had through the Bond.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked, suspiciously. ‘Why do you lock me out? What aren’t you... Oh! Oh, no no no, you can’t be serious!’ His eyes became large with horror.

Legolas looked at him, blue eyes cool now.

‘Two possibilities,’ he said. ‘Either I end my life when yours ends.’ He raised his hand when Gimli opened his mouth. ‘You cannot prevent it, it is no use to protest.’

‘But you can’t do that! You can live without Guide, you have done so for centuries.’

‘I have, and I have no wish to return to such a life now that I have you in my heart and in my mind.’

‘But...’

‘There is no but, my love. It is my choice.’ He sounded very determined. Gimli could not believe it. This Elf, this beautiful being, would choose to stop his life while he had eternity in front of him. All because he had the misfortune to be tied to a mortal. There had to be another way.

‘You said there were two possibilities.’

‘Yes, and it is the second one I hope for. I wish to take you with me over the Sea one day.’

‘To the Undying Lands?’ whispered Gimli. ‘But that is impossible.’

‘I will make it possible,’ said Legolas. Gimli felt a sudden anger course through the Bond. Legolas stood up and shook his fist to the skies. 'Because if Illúvatar deemed it right to make my fated Guide, the Love of my Life, a Dwarf, then he will damn well allow me to take this Dwarf with me!’
It shocked Gimli to hear the Elf curse, it was something he never did. Legolas turned around, looking at Gimli, the blue in his eyes all but drowned out by the black of his pupils.

‘I will not end up like my father, empty and lost.’ Suddenly all energy seemed to leave him and he dropped to his knees. ‘I will not, Gimli, I simply will not!’

Gimli drew him in an embrace, pulling his head into his lap and caressing the silken hair. The love and sorrow he felt threatened to break his heart. He didn’t wish Legolas to die, but he didn’t want him to suffer either.

‘I am sorry, Âzyungel, I am so sorry.’

Legolas looked up.

‘You have nothing to be sorry about,’ he said softly. ‘You did not choose to be mortal. It is beyond us to change your mortality, but it is not beyond me to choose my own mortality if I so wish. But it is the other option I want, and I will fight for it, for you, when the time comes.’

‘I will fight with you, for I wish to come with you if I can.’

‘I do not know what will await us there, but I hope we will have more time, if not eternity. And I will follow you from there if you have to leave even that life behind, Gimli. And I beg you not to feel sad about it, because I do not. You value life much more than I do, my sweet mortal. I have lived a long time already, though I am young compared to many of my kin. I have never seen the virtue of living just to be living. I have sought purpose and I feel purpose now, with you. We are fighting this war, and if we live and if we succeed, the two of us will see the world, or build things, or maybe fight another war. And when our time together is over, it will have been enough. I do not fear death, Gimli. The only thing I fear is living without you.’

And Gimli felt the truth of what he said through the Bond. Legolas did not fear the end of his life, he did not feel sorry about it. And it put his heart to rest.

‘I believe you,’ he said. ‘I will no longer feel sad about it, I will cherish you instead. Come now, sit with me and hold me, and let me hold you. For we don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but we have tonight at least.’

So they sat in each other’s arms and looked over Minas Tirith, and Mordor to the East.

Chapter Text

17. The Black Gate

Legolas stared in horror as the Mouth of Sauron held high Sam’s sword, a grey cloak with an elven-brooch and Frodo’s mithril mail. A dread came over him as he had never felt before. All was lost if the Ring-bearer had been caught. Darkness threatened to overwhelm him as he stumbled, reaching for Gimli beside him. He meant only to touch his shoulder, but the Dwarf’s arm gripped firmly around his waist as if he needed the support just as much as Legolas did. They breathed deeply in unison, embracing each other not only with their bodies but also with their minds.

A cry sounded, startling them. They looked and saw Gandalf thrust Pippin back behind Prince Imrahil. The Wizard started talking to Sauron’s emissary, but Legolas did not seem able to hear his words. He stared at the mithril mail, the surest sign that Frodo must have been caught, possibly killed. He noticed that Elrond’s sons had come closer, standing on either side of him and Gimli, not looking at them but showing in their stance that they knew and would support them if needed. Neither of them was Sentinel or Guide, yet they had guessed. And they seemed not to think ill of an Elf having a Dwarf for a Guide.

‘Better, Kurdûn?’ whispered Gimli.

‘Yes. You?’ The Dwarf nodded. Reluctantly they let go of each other.

Gandalf was still speaking to Mordor’s Messenger and it seemed he was no longer trying to be diplomatic. Suddenly he lunged forward, grabbed the items that had been dropped to the ground and shouted:

‘Begone!’

The Mouth of Sauron retreated and the Black Gate began to open as they all hastily mounted their horses and galloped back to the army that was assembled at Cirith Gorgor.

And so it began, the Battle of the Morannon. The final battle to divert Sauron’s attention and give the Ring-bearer one last chance to complete his task, even if nobody knew if he was still alive.

Though it was not quite as big as the battle they fought at Pelennor Fields, they all felt an urgency that was almost suffocating. Legolas and Gimli fought desperately and ferociously, moving as one entity with two extensions. They fought Easterlings and Orcs, Mordor’s foul armies, swirling and hacking. They fought together with Minas Tirith and the Dúnedain, with Rohan and Dol Amroth. Then the remaining Nazgûl came with their cold horror and all despaired, until a cry sounded over the battlefield:

‘The Eagles are coming! The Eagles are coming!’

There they were, the great Eagles of the North, and they swooped down upon the Ringwraiths, who turned and fled at the sound of a terrible cry that came from the Dark Tower. Mordor’s troops faltered, the Earth rocked, a flame rose over the mountains, the Dark Tower and the Black Gate shuddered and crumbled as a deep groaning rumble rolled toward them.

‘The realm of Sauron has ended!’ bellowed Gandalf. ‘The Ring-bearer has fulfilled his Quest!’

A huge shadow filled the sky, and then it was blown away, and all was suddenly quiet.

Breathless, Legolas and Gimli looked at one another as they saw their enemies fly. It was over, Mordor’s power was annihilated. Flooded with relief and endless joy they fell into each other’s arms. Legolas lifted Gimli and turned around, swinging him in the air, while the Dwarf yelled at him indignantly. But when he stopped to put him down, Gimli held on to his Elf and kissed, kissed, kissed him for all to see. And those around them laughed, too drunk with happiness to object to anything.

18. The Wedding of King Elessar

Legolas thought that Arwen looked magnificent. She was being walked towards her groom by her father, Lord Elrond, who looked torn between seeing the happiness of his daughter and the knowledge that she had pledged herself to a mortal. Aragorn, or rather, King Elessar, looked his usual serious self, but his eyes were shining while he watched his bride. Legolas couldn’t help smiling. Those two had been waiting so long to be married. He wished them all the happniness in the world.

- Feeling all sentimental oh Elf mine?

He turned to look at Gimli.

- It is good custom at weddings And are they not a lovely pair?

- I’m more into blondes myself

Legolas raised an eyebrow.

- Blonde-s?

Gimli grinned. He took Legolas’ hand and raised it to his lips.

- Just the one actually There is no one like him

Legolas stilled, looking at his beloved for a moment.

‘You look so handsome,’ he whispered, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss on the top of Gimli’s neatly combed and braided head.

They tried to avoid being too openly affectionate in public, but they were looked at differently now, being two of the King’s closest comrades and heroes of battle. Also there seemed to be a rumour going around about them being Sentinel and Guide. Legolas didn’t know if this stemmed from the incident in the Healing House at the Hornburg, or that certain Elven twins had something to do with it. The story of ‘the Rock and the Wasp’ had given them a lot of credit anyway. Gimli laughed every time it came up and often teased him with ‘buzzing around’, but Legolas knew he secretly loved it.

0o0o0o0o0o0

There was a party later, there was food and drink and dancing. Legolas even convinced Gimli to dance with him, to the delight of everyone, especially the hobbits. Afterwards they flopped down at a quiet table in a corner, cheeks heated from dancing and drinking.

‘It’s a good party,’ said Legolas with a smile, taking a sip from his glass of wine after lifting it to Gimli. The Dwarf looked at him with a strangely intense look in his eyes.

‘So,’ he said, sitting up. ‘Would you prefer an Elven wedding or a Dwarven one?’

Legolas froze, glass still in the air. He blinked and stared at Gimli.

‘Or maybe we should have both, I mean, they will probably be mad if we choose only one. Or we could make it one with elements of both, although I see some difficulty getting your father and mine to ...’

‘Gimli!’

‘Yes, dear?’ He looked at him innocently.

‘Are you proposing to me?’

‘Uhmm...’

‘Uhmm is about right, yes.’ Legolas put his glass down with some force. ‘That is no way to propose to an Elf, Gimli, son of Gloin!’

Gimli looked at him unwaverlingly, a tiny smile playing around his lips.

‘I assume you are now going to tell me how it is done?’

‘For one, it involves singing.’

Gimli choked on the gulp of ale he had just taken. When he could speak again, he said:

‘Why are you always trying to get me to sing, Elf?’

Legolas stood up and in one gracious movement sat himself on Gimli’s lap, straddling him with his long legs. He took Gimli’s face in both hands and looked down on him.

‘Because, my Dwarf, your voice does things to me,’ he said, sending decidedly suggestive thoughts through the bond. Gimli’s eyes widened and his heart rate went up. He put his hands on Legolas’ hips.

‘What sort of things exactly?’

‘Ah, that you will know when you sing to me, Gimli-nîn,’ he said huskily, still looking straight into his eyes. Gimli shuddered and let his hands slide down to the Elf’s firm bottom.

‘Then I will sing to you later, in our room,’ Gimli said, voice low and promising. ‘But I will ask you now: Legolas of Greenwood, will you marry me?’

‘Most definitely, Gimli of Erebor,’ said Legolas, and proceeded to kiss his Dwarf breathless right in the middle of King Elessar’s wedding party.