Legolas Greenleaf long under tree
In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the sea!
If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore,
Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more.
-- The Two Towers
The cool laughter breeze of a late winter night played idly with strands of coarse Dwarven hair as Gimli came slowly to wakefulness. Finding only cool blankets and empty air at his side, he looked round the small clearing, a sigh ghosting from his lips.
Gone off again, has he? Poor lad. His lover had been so melancholy of late, withdrawn and distant in the course of their travels. As Arod's legs ate up the distance, hard and strong by dint of long travel, Legolas remained as silent as the grey wisps of cloud that played across the ceiling of the sky, lost in seeking thought.
With one more soft sigh, Gimli rose from the confining bedding, hooded eyes scanning the darkness. The Elf knew his woodcraft well; finding no hint of a track to follow, Gimli let instinct guide him, moving with uncharacteristic silence into the arms of the young forest. Aragorn, on watch, merely nodded to him in silence, yet his somber eyes brightened in a moment of approval. Gimli dipped his chin in brief acknowledgment, ere vanishing into the trees.
He'd wandered not long before he found his quarry, standing soft and silent. Legolas leaned into the shelter of a lone oak set apart from its brethren. Golden hair muted to silver in the moonlight, Legolas stood with his cheek pressed against the rough bark. Faint tremors shook his slender frame, the usual brightness of his eyes faded to something lost and infinitely weary. Though his keen hearing had assuredly warned him of the Dwarf's presence, he remained still, eloquent silence bespeaking all that needed to be said of his turmoil.
Echoing that silence, Gimli kept his tongue as he sidled closer, reaching up to lay a soothing hand on Legolas' bowed shoulder. Standing thus, he waited.
When words came, a whisper in the midnight quiet, he almost flinched, so sudden were they. Yet, their content was not unexpected. "I hear it, even now," Legolas admitted. "I ought not to; the sea is leagues away."
"Yet it beckons you still," the Dwarf observed.
"Aye." He pressed his cheek harder still against the roughness of the oak. "It is a dream from which no wakefulness brings surcease. It is there, as constant as the sun in the sky or the grass under my feet. I cannot escape it." He shifted, sinking to the ground against the tree's firm support, eyes faraway in their gaze toward the West. Gimli slid down with him; leaning into his side he played absently with his lover's hair, so different from his own wiry mane.
"Perhaps Aragorn ..."
"No. I fear this is beyond even his formidable powers to heal. It will be a part of me till the day I heed its song, long though my ties to Arda hold me here." Turning his head, Legolas locked eyes with his lover.
"You suffer for me." Gimli's heart clenched in sorrow, and he raised a trembling, calloused finger to the Elf's cheek.
"For you, for Estel. For the Hobbits. For all the work we've done and all we yet have before us." Legolas' expression darkened. "I cannot leave this land ere I am sure of its future and that of those for whom I care. Gladly will I live with the sea's call, simply to remain amongst you." The slender fingers of his hand caught gently the back of Gimli's neck and drew him to rest his head upon his shoulder.
Swallowing past the ache of compassion in his chest, Gimli rested his head a little more firmly upon his mate, an anchor to the present. "What may I do?" The words were thick, roughened with Dwarvish burr and heartfelt emotion.
"Be with me, melethron. Just be with me. Your presence is ever balm enough for this weary soul."
And there, under the shroud of a clouded future and in the warmth of their embrace, they remained, rising only when Arien's dawning rays beckoned them back toward the night's camp.
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Story notes: Genre: Angst, missing scene, vignette
Feedback: Love it like a Hobbit loves to eat.
I've found myself, sometimes, wishing that the Professor had given more description to what impact the sea-longing had on Legolas. This is my attempt to flesh out some small part of what I imagine it to be. My thanks to Saraid, Mali and the rest of the IRC crew for telling me to stop twiddling my thumbs and actually write something. Thanks to Terri for looking over the story in progress, Hildegard for hand-holding, and Hooly and Anastasia for the beta. You guys rock!
