Title: The Sea Has Its Songs
Author: Paradox
Pairing: Legolas/Gimli (with hints of Legolas/Aragorn)
Categories: romance and a wee bit o' angst
Canon source: Book canon
Warnings: none
Spoilers: If you don't know how the book ends, this
will ruin it for you.
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comments! shadowseeker67@yahoo.com
Summary: Why Legolas waited so long to sail over the
Sea, and why Gimli went with him.

*****
"But when King Elessar gave up his life Legolas
followed at last the desire of his heart and sailed
over Sea." - Lord of the Rings, Appendix A

The Sea Has Its Songs
By Paradox

Every time he saw the Sea in daylight, Gimli Gloin's
son marveled at the shimmering of the sun on water. In
all the mines of Moria no jewels had been found with
such a sharp sparkle; gold with its fine sheen could
not compare. The beauty of Belegaer was one of the
treasures of the world, but one he had come slow to
appreciate. 

It was said the Elves had songs for every myth,
legend, or event in the history of their people, but
few songs for the Sea. In her depths were the last
mysteries of the Ages; in the mirror of her beauty,
endless cruelty and mercy could be found. Belegaer was
unknowable, unchanging, since even before the world
was made round, and her heart was vast and wise.
Though many travelers came into her embrace, few would
ever find the shores they sought. 

Beneath his feet the ship swayed gently, carried
forward on the crest of a wave, but Gimli had no fear.
The ship was sturdy enough, for he had seen it built
and knew of its strength; each board was cut true and
each seam made sound by the Elves, who crafted all
with care. Long days had he stood on the rise above
the river Anduin, watching the Elves with their quick
hands work a kind of magic he understood well.

He was a craftsman in his own right. From his forge
had come the Gates of Gondor, the finest works of
mithril and steel ever seen in Middle-earth, fit for
Kings alone. It had been his sacred trust from King
Elessar and he had fulfilled it, though it took many a
year and backbreaking night of labor. It would be his
legacy. 

Of late the work tired him, and when he took rest in
Ithilien, he saw the eyes of his love rest upon him,
and shadows passed there. So often they were apart,
each compelled to govern those places in which they
chose to dwell, but there were other choices they had
made together, and Legolas was always his in every
moment they shared. 

It grieved him to be long apart from Legolas, and so
it was that he had journeyed from Aglarond in February
as spring approached. A great desire was in his heart
to see Legolas, to know the touch of his strong
fingers and see the fire in his eyes, for dwarves were
ever drawn by fire and he greatly missed that warmth.
He had not been disappointed by the brilliant smile of
his love, or the caresses that left him hard and
shivering, or the tongue and teeth that greeted him
and made him welcome in their bed once again. 

But bliss was to be short-lived. Riders came from the
realm of Gondor, bearing down on their great black
horses as though made heavy by weights unseen. Ill
tidings they brought, but Legolas had no need of their
message; he had known the moment it came to pass that
King Elessar was dead. 

For on the day Elessar passed from Middle-earth, all
the world held its breath. Even the trees of Ithilien,
famous for their graceful beauty, were still; no
breeze stirred the air.

"Such is the Gift of Men," Legolas had whispered, and
Gimli had looked to him, startled, but Legolas said no
more, and had parted company with him until morning.
He had gone into the forest with a strange mix of
sadness and fear in his eyes, but would not speak of
it, and had turned Gimli away when he would have
offered comfort.

No comfort could be given, for long had Gimli known of
Legolas' love for Elessar, and of their time together
before war tore Middle-earth apart and remade Aragorn
son of Arathorn into a King for the Ages. It was a
tale he had heard in quiet moments on their journey,
when his love for the elf prince was new and not yet
tested by time.  

It was a painful tale for Legolas to tell, one he
shared in tiny fragments over many years, a tale of
how he came to know Aragorn and what they shared
together. Two years they were as one, Elf and Man, and
in that time revealed much to one another, and knew
each other as well as any two who love. Legolas spoke
of those days with hushed reverence, with adoration
not for a King but for a man, and for the devotion
they shared when Elessar was young and known by other
less glorious names. 

But there was always another for Elessar, one who
waited beneath the mantle of her father's protection
and would one day walk at Elessar's side as his Queen.
Legolas had never thought to displace her, though his
heart had had ignored his understanding and was
stubborn and mournful when the ties were broken.

It was a wound sealed over by the thinnest coat of
strength and pride, and Gimli saw it crack open all
too easily in the forest lands of Ithilien, on a March
afternoon. 

Gimli followed Legolas into the woods each day. Though
Legolas would not speak, Gimli keenly felt his sorrow,
and felt he must be near him. But on the third
evening, Gimli could no longer bear the silence. 

Legolas stood quiet in the midst of the tallest trees
of the forest. There amidst the trees, Gimli's axe
seemed a thing obscene, so he set it aside. He
approached Legolas with trepidation, for he could see
the mantle of grief had bowed those slender shoulders.


"Come, Legolas. Grieve no longer. A full long life
Aragorn Elessar lived, and more besides!"

A silence fell between them, and Legolas bowed his
head. "You do not understand," he said.

"Then speak, and I will know all."

"His was a mortal life, destined from the moment of
his birth to end in his passing. I had not thought
much of what songs I would sing for him...but I find I
have none to give." His voice broke. "Such a man
deserves a lamentation more beautiful than any that
has been sung before, but I cannot. I...cannot."

"Then do not trouble yourself, for a heart so broken
cannot expect to hold back the tide any longer." Gimli
reached out, to place a sturdy hand against Legolas'
strong arm. "Let loose the flood."

"It is not my way," Legolas said softly. "You know
this better than any."

Gimli nodded and fell quiet. The leaves turned softly
overhead in the early evening sky, sheltering the low
glade beneath, and they stood together at the
makeshift shrine to the fallen King.    

Finally Legolas spoke again, and his words were like
the gilt on sacred paper. "Many years I served him; my
allegiance was his to command. But he did not command
it. Instead I gave it freely. These years have been so
short, Gimli! You are all here but a brief time, and
these are merely fleeting moments in a life too long
to be borne." He turned his face aside, so Gimli could
not see his pain, and cried, "What loss must I bear
next! For soon you also shall be taken from me and I
will wander alone."

"Nay," Gimli said sternly. "I am made of earth and
fire, and I am strong, as strong as the mountains
above my forge! I will not leave you."

Legolas fell to one knee and looked to Gimli; in his
eyes Gimli saw despair and loneliness. An ache began
to blossom inside Gimli's heart, and he touched the
face of beauty he loved so dearly; Legolas sighed, and
drew him near.

For a time they held each other, taking strength each
from the other, and then they parted. Legolas turned
his dark and shining eyes to Gimli. "It is said that
in the lands over Sea, each moment is as an eternity.
Time stands still there and all is not as it once was.
This sadness cannot follow me there."

Gimli felt a painful longing in his heart, but pushed
it aside as he regarded Legolas. "It is your wish,
then, to sail over Sea?"

"Yes," Legolas said, "but you shall come, and be by my
side. For there, time cannot touch you, and cannot
take you from me."

"I cannot!" Gimli said, and the words rang through the
forest, a cry of protest mingled with hope. "Such
journeys are the province of Elves alone!"

"You are beloved of Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, and I
say you shall come," Legolas said fiercely. "And who
will dare speak against it? You are Gimli Gloin's son,
Elf-friend, and hero to all the peoples of
Middle-earth. It shall be as I have said it." The tone
of command dropped from his voice, and he added, "If
it is what you wish. For I would not be moved from
your side ever again."

Gimli smiled then, but sadly. "I would stay by your
side if it were my choice, but the Lady must decide."

"Do you not know? Her grace follows you wherever you
turn in these lands," Legolas said, and his eyes
shone. "You will sail with me, then. It is decided."

And so it was, for they did not leave the wood for a
very long time after, and many things were resolved in
what was not said. 

Plans were laid for the ship that would carry them. It
was a ship made of new wood, hewn and fitted by Elves
who would someday sail over Sea themselves. It did not
catch the light, for it was grey, and on its bow a
name was painted: Cuiviénen, which meant Waters of
Awakening. Gimli thought this was fitting.

Thus they sailed over Sea together. At night, the moon
caught on the black of the Sea and shattered into
glittering shards that skipped and danced across the
waves. In the day, Gimli stood and watched the lands
of his life slip behind, and was glad of it, for he
would walk there in dreams. 

"It is said there are few songs of the Sea, for she is
too beautiful and her mysteries cannot be revealed."
Legolas came up soft behind Gimli and drew him close
with an arm about his shoulders. "But the Sea has her
own songs, memories of paths none may share, though
they know her heart well."

"And yet her heart is true?" Gimli asked, as they
gazed out at the Sea together.

"True, and steadfast," came his answer, and Gimli
closed his eyes, for the beauty of the Sea was too
much to bear, and his heart knew peace at last. 

End
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