Work Text:
When did Legolas Greenleaf first come to love Gimli son of Gloin?
Perhaps it was when Gimli first came to love the Lady of the Wood.
For in that moment, Legolas saw something in Gimli’s eye that he had never perceived in the eyes of men or dwarves before. And indeed, it made him wonder that he had never really looked into the eyes of a dwarf.
“The sight of elves has grown weak indeed,” thought Legolas, “if they cannot see the depth and beauty of the eyes of Gimli Gloin’s son.”
Dwarves were a proud people. Proud of their creations above all else. Stone and gems and precious silver brought light to their eyes, but they little cared for living things, thought Legolas upon a time.
Not so, now. For Gimli valued the fairness and majesty of the Lady Galadriel above any jewel or stony hall crafted by his forefathers.
When Legolas later spoke to Gimli of the Lady, Gimli’s eyes shone again with wonder, awe, and love. But now his eyes were cast towards Legolas himself, and the elf was struck with a feeling he had not known in all his long years in the great Elvish Kingdom of his father.
From then on, Legolas and Gimli went often together in the land of Lothlorien. Legolas delighted in showing Gimli the wonders of the wood. Each time the dwarf lent compliment to the woodland realm, Legolas felt a thrill go through him. Long had Legolas yearned to see the golden wood, but now he found he preferred to watch the dwarfs enjoyment most of all. Did Legolas truly see the trees and flets of Lothlorien? Or did he only see the purest essence of them, reflected in the face of Gimli?
In the highest flets of the Mallorn trees, the platforms would sway gently in the breeze. Though dwarves are well accustomed to high places and precarious stairs, the stairs are always made of stone and do not sway and rock like a ship on the sea.
“Come just a little higher!” Legolas called merrily, from the ladder above Gimli’s head. “They say this is the best place to view the stars, and the sky is clear tonight!”
“I can see the stars well enough from here,” replied Gimli, holding tightly to the bole of the tree and eying the slender ladder warily, “there, between the branches. A beautiful sight.”
“Would you truly settle for such a narrow view after you have already climbed this high?” Asked Legolas, descending down to Gimli’s level.
“Come, I will carry you to the very top. You may close your eyes tightly lest your fear get the better of you.”
Legolas knelt down and indicated that the dwarf might climb onto his back, little believing that he would.
“Fear! I am not afraid,” blustered the dwarf, “we dwarves are simply not so enamored of stars as you elves.”
Legolas was not fooled by this claim, and merely smiled in response.
Gimli hesitated for a moment and then declared, “I will climb. But you will climb below me, so if this blasted wind shakes me loose it shall bring the both of us crashing down to the good solid earth.”
“You shall climb first,” agreed Legolas, “but if you fall, I shall catch you.”
Gimli harrumphed but began the ascent all the same. Once he was resolved to do it, he climbed quickly and assuredly, somewhat to Legolas’s disappointment. The Elf would have loved nothing more than to catch Gimli in his arms and carry him to safety.
The ladder brought them to the edge of a round platform perched upon the very crown of the tree, without a single branch above it. It was not the tallest tree in the city, but here at the very edge near the great green hedge, it stood a fair bit higher than its neighbors, affording a view that was not to be found in the center of the city where many ancient trees grew thick and tall.
Legolas, with all the balance and grace of the elder race, stood upon the platform as it tilted and turned, riding it like the deck of a ship upon a rolling sea. The movement to him felt comfortable and natural, accustomed as he was to climbing the great trees of his homeland and standing upon their boughs.
Gimli, however, was laying face down, with his arms and legs splayed wide to keep his balance.
Legolas laughed and said, “Come, Gimli, if you will not stand or sit then you must at least lay on your back so that you may see the stars!”
Slowly and carefully, so as to not fall off the narrow platform, Gimli rolled onto his back, his eyes shut tight with fear or concentration. After a breath to calm himself, and feeling about with his hands to make sure he was not at the platform’s edge, he finally opened his eyes and beheld the stars.
As Gimli took in the sight, his eyes widened and his breath caught. Here above the treetops, with neither mountain nor cloud in the periphery of his sight, he felt himself to be floating up there among the stars, swimming in them. Distant, they seemed, but no farther than the cares of the world down below.
“Well!” said Gimli, searching for words to describe this new feeling, “well that is a sight to see indeed!”
“It is,” said Legolas.
“Beautiful!” Murmured Gimli, entranced by the heavens.
“Beyond compare,” agreed Legolas, but he was not looking at the stars.
“Come lay beside me, Legolas. Sure-footed you may be, but I believe I’ve found the best position to watch the sky.”
Gladly did Legolas lay down beside Gimli, though his face was still turned towards the dwarf and not the sky at all. Fixated as Gimli was, he made no notice of the elf’s staring.
“What do you know of the stars?” asked Legolas.
“We have named but a few in my language,” said Gimli, “and those only for the purposes of navigation. Those, and the seven stars of Durin’s crown. But we look not to the sky for that constellation, wishing only to see it in the Mirrormere as Durin once did.”
“We have named many constellations in our language, and every young elf learns them by heart.”
“Show me,” said Gimli, and Legolas’s heart sang with joy.
Legolas pointed at a string of twinkling stars and said, “here are the seven stars the elves sing of. Valacirca , sickle of the Valar. Perhaps they are the same that Durin saw reflected in those waters, but elves do not claim knowledge of that lore.”
“Where?” Asked Gimli, “I see only a vast field of lights, forming no distinct shapes in my eyes.”
“There,” said Legolas, pointing a slender finger towards the sky, “see there the four stars of the handle, and three more to form the curved blade.”
“There?” asked Gimli, pointing at an unrelated clump of stars.
Legolas slid closer to Gimli on the platform, shoulder to shoulder, so he could better see the dwarf’s perspective. Legolas took Gimli’s hand and gently adjusted it’s direction.
“ There ,” said Legolas. “ Valacirca . The handle, and…”
“The sickle!” exclaimed Gimli, “yes, I see it! So brightly it shines, I wonder how I’ve never noticed it before!”
Legolas entwined his fingers with Gimli and, hands clasped, continued to point out the constellations. There were many stars to name, and eventually Gimli ceased to make exclamations and grew quiet.
Thinking his companion had fallen asleep, Legolas lowered their hands and lay there in silence for a while, simply drinking in the night sky.
After some time, Legolas turned his head to look at Gimli, and found he was not asleep at all. His breath was so slow and regular that Legolas had not imagined he could still be awake, but his eyes were wide open, staring contentedly up at the stars. Knowing the dwarf was awake, Legolas became aware that he had not yet let go of Gimli’s hand, and that he did not particularly want to.
Sensing the stare, Gimli turned his head towards Legolas as well, a smile cracking through his previous serenity.
“I think I understand the elves a little better now,” said Gimli, “though I suspect I’ll have forgotten all the names you told me come morning.”
“Then I will tell you again. Each one has a story, and it would take many lifetimes of men to tell them all.”
“And I will listen to them gladly, if we ever land again in such a peaceful place.”
Those words shook the magic of the moment a little, for at once they both remembered that they were in the midst of an urgent quest, and this swaying treetop under the stars was but an island in a sea of dangers.
“The company will be looking for me soon,” said Gimli. “I thought I might fall asleep here, but I am determined to die in battle or as an old graybeard, not as a youngling falling out of a tree because he was too foolish to seek a proper bed.”
“I would not let you fall,” said Legolas, “and I had a mind to rest here myself. The sunrise will be worth the wait.”
“Let it not be said that Gimli Gloinsson is afraid of heights,” said Gimli, “but I daren’t rest my eyes till I am back on solid ground. I am neither bird nor elf, and not designed for sleeping in trees.
“Very well,” said Legolas with a laugh in his voice, “we shall return to the company and leave this bird’s nest to the birds.”
“Good. That’s good,” said Gimli, turning his face back to the sky, “but my eyes are not yet tired, and I shan’t roll off while I’m awake. Will you stay here with me a bit longer?”
“Yes,” said Legolas, “gladly I will stay with you.”
With Gimli’s eyes on the stars, and Legolas’s eyes on Gimli, and both with hands entwined, they lay there yet a while longer, high in the treetops of fair Lothlorien.