Work Text:
*clink*
Gimli sighed and looked over the chunk of rock in his hands. The green and gray striations caught the sunlight as he turned it, studying every angle, every variation. It had caught his eye on a mountain trail leading out of the White City. Merry, who had followed him on the start of his hike, kept asking him why he wanted it. When Gimli gave no reply, Merry tried wild theories about it being some secret form of gold or maybe it was really a stray Dwarf child who hadn’t grown limbs yet. When Gimli didn’t rise to the bait, Merry retired to a cozy ledge with a stunning view to sit and smoke rather than keep walking and climbing in the heat.
To Hobbit eyes it looked like any other rock, dull and dusty on the road. Gimli been able to tell the stone had interesting hues even through the road dust and the heat haze on the sun beaten ground. He had climbed down to a pleasant stream to wash the stone to see the colors were vibrant. He’d been pleased to see that his stone sense was still as reliable as mountains themselves. Now he was slowly, slowly chipping away at it to discover it’s beauty and bring it out.
When he’d walked the path back into the city, Merry was gone and every trace of smoke long scattered by the wind.
*clink*
He worked the stone slowly, alternating a few chips with careful sanding and contemplation. Legolas disappeared for hours each day to prepare for the Aragorn’s long awaited marriage to Arwen, an event they were keeping secret from the Hobbits.
At first Gimli assumed it was to keep the Hobbits from trying to help with preparations, but the then he fond out that the plan was to keep it secret from almost everyone. The way Legolas and Aragorn talked about the proper way to handle the upcoming wedding ceremony made no sense to him, but all of it seemed intuitive to them. Aragorn may not be and elf himself, but he was mostly raised in Rivendell and their ways were his ways. When he tried to understand any of it he felt like he was trying to pin down swirls of smoke.
When Legolas was away, he worked on the stone. His find was worth such careful tending, but he had to keep his own emotions at bay while working on it. He wanted to pour love into the rock, and dreams of a future with Legolas, though he had no idea what that would even look like. This would be a fine courting gift for a fellow Dwarf, showing off both skill and a deep understanding of stone. Working on this stone felt right, like it’s what he should be doing, but the love that has bloomed deeply and painfully in his heart was not for a Dwarf.
He had to remind himself sternly, and repeatedly, that this was not going to be a courting gift. His months of journeying with Legolas felt like a lifetime to his heart, but they would soon be over.
*clink*
He’d tried asking Aragorn about Elven customs and he’d been no help. He said that his love and courtship of Arwen had flowed naturally, like a river, and surely it would be the same for anyone romancing one of the fair folk, if their hearts were a match. But Aragorn had known how to approach and Elf. He’d known what to do, and more importantly, what not to do.
He was sure his heart was a match to Legolas’, how could it not be? He had never loved like this, never craved another’s company so much or been so delighted by someone’ smile. Never had long conversations so engaged his mind or long shared silences under the stars so soothed his soul.
Gimli put down the small hammer and chisel from his travel gear and pulled out a small brush to wipe away stone dust. The pattern was beautiful. At the right angle, the verdant green and dark gray layers seemed intertwined. For a moment he imagined the twisting layers to be like tangled limbs. He squeezed his eyes shut, wrapped the stone in a scrap of leather and put it away.
*clink*
It felt impossible to be with the man he’d come to love. Legolas was in some ways as quicksilver and changeable as Elves were rumored to be, but he was in other ways steadfast. His honor, his loyalty and his friendship were stronger than well-forged steel. He’d come to love both sides of him wandering together beneath the leaves of Lórien, and slowly come to understand him as a whole.
He put down his tools as he remembered Aragorn’s words from the other day, “It doesn’t matter how you reach out, if there is something between you then it will be easy to grasp. Just trust your instincts.” Gimli felt lost without structure, like he was in a maze with glass walls.
He placed the rock that was so easily becoming a curving splendor on the table before him. He couldn’t work with the stone again until he was in the right frame of mind. He was struggling more with himself than the rock. The worse part was that the stone’s beauty constantly brought Legolas to mind, the colors seemed like chaos as first, but the longer one looked the more deep and pleasant patterns came out. The stone itself was strong, and only yielded to his tools because he was working with the stone, to learn it, discover it.
He worried that the stone would become a bittersweet reminder of his friend. For all that Legolas had said he wouldn’t tolerate being separated from him, surely he’d meant just the journey? Even though his heart wished to hear those words differently. So many nights he drifted off next to his sleepless friend, surely that would grow painfully boring for him. It has just been a dream he’d clung to and not questioned to get him through all the peril. Now at journey’s end he had to face reality.
*clink*
The damned Elf tapped the stone with his nails. Wrapped up in his own thoughts, he hadn’t realized he wasn’t alone. Now Legolas gazed intently at the stone, like he was trying to figure something out.
“This is what’s been consuming you so? Merry and the others keep complaining that either you are busy with me or with this.”
“I didn’t hear the door.”
“I came across the roof. It’s easier and has a far better view.”
“I swear the reason your kind doesn’t sleep is so you have more hours to be poking your nose into things. I wonder if Elves were created just to annoy Dwarves.”
Legolas finally looked away from the stone and smiled at him. “Nonsense, our race is older. Perhaps Dwarves were created to give us something to annoy.”
Falling into familiar banter felt good, but he needed to hide the project away. Gimli stood and pulled the leather over his project and started to organize his tools. He felt uncomfortable with Legolas seeing it in it’s unfinished state, and wasn’t even sure about sharing it when it’s done.
Legolas sat up, eyes worried. “Did I give offense? You are a fine craftsman by the standards of your people and that is a high bar, but I’ve never seen any of your work.”
“It’s not finished. I wouldn’t even show another mason at this point.”
“There’s a whole part of you I don’t know and that saddens me. When will it be done? It’s beautiful, but I feel it serves a purpose beyond that.”
Legolas calling the stone beautiful caused a painful spark of hope in his heart. If he saw the beauty even at that stage, then perhaps… Gimli shook his head to clear the thought from it.
“It should have a purpose, but currently it has none. It was a lucky find when I was exploring this weird mountain that has it’s city on the outside instead of the inside.”
Legolas gave a soft laugh. “I suppose that would see strange to you. Speaking of your cities, surely Erebor has your masterworks? What shall I see there? Weapons? Jewels? Armor to protect your kind? Or things I’d never guess?”
“You’re going to Erebor?” The words slipped out of him in surprise.
“I assumed you’d want to visit home after all this? How long can Dwarves stand being out in sunny fields anyway?”
*clink*
The words were said lightly, but hit Gimli’s heart hard. He sat down with a thud, his task half done, one of his buckles hit the wide stone bench under them. The idea of bringing Legolas home, showing him those halls, his own carven room. He felt Legolas shift towards him so they were sitting close, but not quite pressed together on the covered patio.
“Do you not see the future as I do, my friend?” Legolas’ voice was soft, and Gimli could read the pain in it, the tension it tried to hide. He knew that voice, that man, so well.
“The future is a blur to me.”
“Why?”
The question was simple and terrible. He owed his friend a direct answer, even though he desperately wanted to hide his feelings.
“Through everything our friendship carried my heart. Despair and fear did not pull me down. But I let my feelings grow reckless, I did not tame them, cut them back. I just let myself love you and figured I’d deal with the consequences of that later. The love, it’s not purely friendship I speak of, and perhaps you find a Dwarf reaching for your hand to be distasteful. Perhaps-” Gimli stopped abruptly as he felt long fingers wind around his own. His heart beat fast as hope pulled at it even stronger than before.
Legolas leaned against him, long hair spilling onto his shirt.
Gimli swallowed and continued. “The future is a blur because I can’t imagine it without you. And trying to imagine it with you, my heart trips over hope and fear both. What would that even look like, with you as my…”
“Husband? Lover? We will have to forge our own way, but that sounds like a fine adventure. I can’t imagine a future without you either.”
Gimli swallowed a few times and finally said “Poems.”
“Poems?”
“You can read Dwarven runes a least a little, can’t you? The Halls of Erebor only had poems from before. My masterworks, I carved poems written during years my people were scattered, vagabonds, into the deepest halls. Some relief work, some inlay, dozens of voices preserved on something stronger than paper.”
Legolas laughed in delight. “Your masterworks did turn out to be something I’d never dream of! I can’t wait to see them and come to understand the thought and skill that went into them.”
Gimli pressed into his side, shaking and Legolas wrapped his arms around him. He didn’t know if it was relief, joy, excitement or a mix of that and more. The yearning that he’d tried to keep at bay rose up in him and he finally looked up at Legolas. He tipped his head back and tried to reach up. Legolas understood his intent and leaned down, their lips touching at last. Their close, intimate friendship blossoming into everything it was meant to be.
*clink*
A tool rolled off the table and hit the floor as Gimli’s leg moved to steady himself, and Legolas pulled him in tighter. He didn’t need to keep himself balanced anymore because Legolas had him.
“Such a stone should be a courting gift, a way to show part of myself and my connection to the stone. But nosy Elves shouldn’t peek before it’s done.”
“Forgive me?”
“Only if you forgive all the ways I’ll stumble. I tried asking our mutual friend for help, but he’s worse than useless in such matters.”
“I’ll gladly assign all blame to him. Now, when do I get a proper look at my gift?”
“Me or the stone?”
“Both, for I intend to treasure both and learn their depths.”