Work Text:
Title: We Haven’t Just Met (for the Yule challenge)
Author: Beth
For Minnie, who has provided me with hours of enjoyment with her wonderful stories and by working with me to create our own lovely world to play around in!
Legolas leaned back in his chair, sighing in relief as he listened to the sonorous snores of his companion who sat across from him on the other side of the fireplace. It was their usual Yule tradition to spend every evenings of their limited time together alone enjoying one another’s company before retiring for the evening, but this night the dwarf had indulged in a little too much ale and had been asleep almost as soon as he’d sat down, much to the elf’s relief. With Gimli asleep, Legolas could finally let down his guard a little and drop the pretense that everything was well with him. He rubbed his temples to try to alleviate the ache behind his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths and released them slowly in order to let go of some of the tension that tightened his middle. It helped marginally, but it was the most he could do, for with the dwarf nearby, he could not allow himself the temporary relief that was gained by giving in to the sounds in his mind. The call of the sea was strong in him now, and fighting it had become more and more of a challenge. There were days when he gave into it and indulged in listening to the enchanting song for hours on end, hiding it as best he could from those who would worry and nag.
There were also days when he longed to give in completely and make the long, lonely journey over the sea, for deep down he knew there was no real relief to be had as long as he remained. And yet the thought of parting from Middle Earth and those he loved always brought him back to his senses and he would reach deep inside himself for another buried store of endurance and try even more determinedly to keep his mind where his heart was. He had become an expert at hiding his increasing illness and at deflecting the views of those who would have him sail. But Yule had been difficult this year and he was glad it was over. He was wrung out and exhausted from the effort it had taken to keep smiling and greeting the hordes of visitors who had come to call and was relieved to no longer have to pretend to care about the size of the Yule log, the placement of the decorations or what menu would best please visitors. He was tired of pretending to enjoy the rich holiday foods that unsettled his stomach so much that he often as not just pushed them around on his plate. Food of any kind had become something of a trial as of late, but so far, to his surprise, Gimli hadn’t said a word about any of this.
Not that Gimli didn’t know about his fight against the sea longing. He had been aware of his affliction since the beginning, but it had been mostly just a nuisance back then and there was no reason to talk about it. It wasn’t until two years ago that there had been some words over it, during one of Legolas’ frequent visits to Aglarond.
Legolas had stayed for nearly a fortnight and was about to begin his journey home, when the dwarf had cornered him and demanded to know what was wrong.
“I’ve given ye ample time to confide in me on your own, Laddie, but I can see now ye don’t intend to and ye will not be leaving until I know what is going on.” Gimli had frowned fiercely and folded his arms awaiting a proper answer.
“What makes you think something is going on, Elvellon?” Legolas asked innocently, offering his brightest smile as he did so. The dwarf had not been fooled.
“Recall that we haven’t just met, Elfling! Ye are pale and exhausted and far too thin. I will have ye tell me what is causing it!” the dwarf demanded.
Legolas had sighed and offered a pretend confession, “It is just as you say Gimli. I have been very busy lately and perhaps worked harder than I should…”
Unfortunately for the elf, the dwarf had been standing too close for him to retreat when the warning growl issued from his throat. As always Gimli’s lightning reflexes stunned him, for the next thing he knew he was tipped over his dwarven minder’s lap and having his backside assaulted before he could think up a more believable response.
“Have ye become so addled that ye think lying to me is now acceptable?” Gimli demanded, tightening his grip on his charge’s waist and tipping him further forward to access the most vulnerable parts of his backside and thighs. In the dwarf’s experience, paying extra attention to those sensitive areas was the quickest way to an honest answer. As he had expected, that, along with the words of censure, had worked like a charm. As soon as his elfling was right side up and sitting in his lap, rather than lying across it, the whole story came tumbling out.
At the time Gimli had been epitome of gentleness, offering soothing assurances that all would be well in the end; swearing that he, son of Gloin would personally see to it. And Legolas had been reassured, for he had great faith in the dwarf who had never once broken a promise to him. Gimli for his part had to blink back tears as he made his oath, for he fully intended to keep it, and he knew very well there was only one cure, and it would mean breaking his own heart to see it done.
That had begun Gimli's great campain to strong arm Legolas into doing what had to be done.Watching him fade away and die was not an option and he did not intend to give up until he had his way, no matter how painful it would be to himself or to his elf. There was no other option available; giving in to the call was the only thing that would save him so that was what was going to happen, no matter the opinion of flighty elflings who didn’t know what was for their own good.
But Legolas was stubborn too. He knew he would have to sail eventually, but he was certain he could hang on a little longer, if only people would let him be. He dug his heels in and continued to refuse to do as others claimed he should. He began to try harder to hide his growing distress, which with the dwarf who knew him inside out was nearly impossible.
But this Yule it seemed he had finally accomplished it. Gimli had not once even hinted about his opinion on the matter and had instead sat back and seemed to enjoy the festivities.
Legolas couldn’t help smiling at the fact that his acting skills had been good enough to fool his ever-watchful dwarven guardian, though he wondered how long that would prevail if Gimli didn’t leave soon. All other guests had gone, but Gimli was not yet showing the usual signs that he was anxious to get back to his home and his people. He continued to stay night after night, until Legolas had asked him when he intended to leave.
“Are ye trying to tell me something Lamb?” Gimli had chuckled, and Legolas had dropped the topic, for he had no desire to make his friend feel unwelcome, though hiding the fact that he was less than well was becoming unbearably difficult.
Well it couldn’t be much longer, Legolas thought to himself, as he gently shook the dwarf awake so he could make himself comfortable in his own chambers rather than risking a crick in his neck from sleeping all night in a chair. Gimli took his duty to his people seriously and he would be needed at home soon enough.
With that hopeful thought, Legolas took himself off to bed, though sleep was a rare event these days. Still he felt he had to at least pretend to try or risk answering some uncomfortable questions about his less than healthy sleeping habits, for Gimli had an uncanny way of knowing his whereabouts even when he was supposedly sleeping himself. For a mercy, he had actually fallen into slumber just as the sun was coming up, but was awakened shortly afterward when he heard a loud crash right outside the door to what was known as “Gimli’s rooms”. For a moment he worried that something had befallen his dwarf, but the next thing he heard was Gimli’s own booming voice.
“Careful there, Lads. That desk hasn’t survived in my family for two hundred years only to be destroyed within feet of its permanent resting spot. Never mind. Leave it be. I’ll take it from here.”
Legolas stepped into the corridor in time to see the retreating backs of three young dwarves who had obviously just carried an enormous oak desk up the curving stairway and left it just outside Gimli's bedchamber door. . Legolas recognized the desk right away as the one that had been in Gimli’s office for as long as he had lived in Aglarond. In front of it, just inside the room was Gimli’s drafting table and beyond that his jewelry cutting tools Coming down the corridor he could see more dwarves, carrying bags and boxes and behind them elves of his own household who had obviously been recruited to help with whatever this unknown project was. Amazed, he looked toward Gimli for an explanation.
Gimli only smiled at his stunned expression. “Oh did I forget to mention it, Laddie? I’m moving in.”
“Moving in?” Legolas parroted.
“That’s what I said, Lamb. Dinna look so shocked. I did design this house and spent a whole year of my life helping to build it. Why should I not avail myself of its comforts in my retirement?”
“Of course you are welcome, Elvellon, but what about your people? Your beloved caves? Your family?”
“Oh that,” Gimli dismissed those things dearest to him with the wave of a hand. “I’ve handed everything over to Greirr. It’s about time I retired, don’t ye think?”
Gimli maneuvered around until he could kneel under the enormous desk and heft it over his head in order to place it just where he wanted it, before continuing to explain.
“The fact is, Laddie, I’m beginning to get a mite frail in my old age, and I hate to say so, but ye’ve been quite lax in your duty toward me.” Gimli set the desk down and eyed its placement critically as if not quite sure that was where it needed to be.. All the while Legolas was beginning to sputter.
“Lax in my duty? What do you mean I’ve been lax in my duty…”
Gimli held up a hand meant to silence further protests. “There is no use trying to deny it. Ye’re the closest I have to a son, and it’s up to ye to take care of me now that I’m getting up in years. Ye should have thought of it on your own, but since ye didn’t I took it upon myself to remind ye of your responsibility.”
Gimli started to lift the desk again to take it to the other side of the room and Legolas hurried to help him with it, but was stopped short when Gimli growled at him to keep his mitts off of it.
“Ye don’t know where I want it and ye’d likely only scratch it” Gimli scolded. If ye want to be of real help sit down in yonder chair and see if its close enough to the fire to keep old bones warm in the winter time. A person would think ye’d have thought of that on your own, Lad.”
The look Gimli gave him was admonitory, but Legolas began to laugh as he lowered himself into the indicated chair.
“Elvellon you are crazy,” he chuckled.
“Hmmph! Perhaps, but its hardly polite to say so! Not to mention that it does not negate your responsibility even if I’m beginning to become feeble minded!”
"Oh Gimli, Stop it," Legolas demanded, still giggling. He now realized he had never had the dwarf fooled for a moment. Gimli had only changed tactics. “I may be daft, but I’m not an idiot. You are neither frail nor feeble minded and you are not coming so I can care for you, but the other way around. You plan to take care of me.”
Gimli only shrugged and winked before reaching out to ruffle the golden head.
“There is little difference, Child. Just another way of saying the same thing.”