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Nothing Gold Can Stay	By : TAFKAB Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 5311 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, The Silmarillion, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The sound of a door opening and closing woke Gimli, who slept lightly away from home, his senses still alert for any sound of attack.
“Legolas.” A silken voice spoke, dragging him upward to full awareness. “I thought you would revel away the night in feasting and song. I have wasted my time seeking you among the company, when I should have waited here.” Thranduil. Gimli rose in haste, nearly tripping over the hem of his nightshirt.
“Ada.” Legolas’s voice was cold as the frosts of the High Pass.
“A well-chosen word, for it is plain you have abandoned your king.”
“Perhaps my choice was poor, for always you have treated me as your subject rather than your son.”
Gimli hastened to the partition that separated the two rooms, stirring it aside a hand’s breadth so Legolas might see he was near and know himself supported. Thranduil stood tall in the center of the room, a flowing silver cloak thrown over his shoulders, his pale hair streaming among its folds. Though Gimli tried to make no sound, Thranduil switched smoothly to Sindarin to thwart his listening.
*****
“You wear a barbaric adornment now.” Thranduil stepped forward to look at it, and Legolas pulled his head away, refusing to allow his father to touch his jewel. “I have seen its like on some elves here, and heard many tongues tell of the foolish elf who let a dwarf fondle his ear for all to see.”
“It is none of your affair.” Legolas lifted his chin, refusing to be shamed. “Did you cross the mountains only to quibble with my choice of jewels, or have you some more worthy purpose in seeking me out?”
“The half-elf invited me to attend a great council.” Thranduil’s lips pursed. “Too, I thought I might well reclaim an erring subject here and return him to my halls in safety. Ever he has longed to place himself in the heart of troubles too great for him. I thought rightly, for I have found him here with property he stole from my house, both tagging after the grey fool.”
“Gimli’s safekeeping was given to me, and I judged I could best ensure it if he remained at my side. He is not your property.” Legolas struggled to contain his wrath, ignoring the insults. “Free him. A dwarf is not a beast to be chained.”
Thranduil widened his eyes with exaggerated surprise. “You use its name as if it were your friend.” He glanced coolly at Legolas’s jewel. “Or your lover, as is now whispered among the Noldorim. I half thought I would find it warming your bed. I am grateful you have not sunk so low.”
Legolas considered the charge, well familiar with his father’s ways of putting him on the defensive. Counter-attack was the best defense. “It does not surprise me you assume I would look wherever I might for love. You know my lack well, for rarely have I received such a thing from my father.”
Thranduil’s lips pinched white, and he looked down on Legolas. “You know nothing of love.”
“Indeed. How might I learn of something I have not been shown?” Legolas smiled without humor. “And yet, perhaps I know more than you-- of friendship, at least. Gimli is my friend both in name and in act, more so than you can understand. The nazgûl themselves have learned to fear our friendship.” He pressed forward, backing his father away, a startled half-step. “Would Celebrimbor have allowed Narvi to serve as his slave? No more will I require Gimli. He does not kneel at my feet, but walks at my side, his own dwarf in all but name, too honorable to go when I would dismiss him on your behalf. You will free him.”
“Return to my halls and I will consider it.”
“Free him now, without condition. Would you stand before the White Council in the land of Elrond and refuse their will? If you do not do as I request, they will require it of you themselves, and they will expose the shame of your actions before all.” Legolas pressed his advantage, perceiving a flicker of dismay in his father’s eyes.
“The Noldor and the peredhil do not command me.”
“Then free him because it is right.” Legolas stepped forward again, and again Thranduil gave ground. Legolas felt triumph sing through him, sensing such a weakness in his father as he had never guessed. “Before they ask. Because I will have it, Ada.”
“Return to my halls and I will.”
“I am no more yours to command than he.” Legolas fell once more into Westron. “Free Gimli, or I will never again set foot in your halls.” He could see the dwarf at the screen, listening, his eyes going wide. Let him know what the fight was about.
“I will command the dwarf to return with me, and you will never see it again!” Thranduil surged forward, chest to chest with his son, but Legolas did not falter.
“When the Council rebukes you, I will tell them how you have spoken your desire for the dwarf’s death. They will take his oath from you and pass it to me, and I will dissolve it.”
“I did not come here to discuss a dwarf.” Thranduil retreated gracefully, as if to dodge the argument at its crux.
“Then why was he the first concern to fall from your lips?” Legolas felt his heart race, sensing he had won. Even if he must wait for the Council, Gimli would be free. “I will say no more until you free him.”
Thranduil stood back, drawing himself tall, his face a passionless, brittle mask. Legolas could see no hint of expression in it, though he guessed Thranduil’s agitation was great.
“It feigns friendship for expediency’s sake…. it will leave your bed if it is freed, and it will not return.” Thranduil tried once more, and Legolas thought it a desperate gamble. Surely his father did not truly believe he and Gimli had become lovers. If he had, he would have entered their rooms with sword unsheathed.
Legolas drew himself tall and proud, again making neither confirmation nor denial. Perhaps Gimli would indeed choose to go, but if he wished it, then he might. “Staying or going will be his choice to make.”
“Have it as you will, then, and I wish you joy of your disillusionment.” Thranduil turned his head to regard Gimli. “Dwarf. I count your oath fulfilled. Go back to your people.” Thranduil’s voice was smooth as glass, bitter cold.
“In writing.” Legolas pressed. “That he may prove his freedom before his kin.”
Thranduil accepted quill and ink with ill-grace, scrawling in great flourishes upon a sheet of parchment. Legolas lit a candle and Gimli stepped forward one hesitating foot at a time, his eyes fixed on the table as Thranduil dripped wax and applied his seal. He thrust the paper at Gimli, who took it with shaking hands.
Gimli glanced to Legolas, seeming as if he would speak, then retreated to his room without words.
“I never desired the service of a dwarf, as well you know. I sought only to shame its king. That, at least, is accomplished. Will you speak reasonably with me now, my son?” Thranduil tried long-suffering patience, pretending too late the subject was unimportant to him and hinting at weariness with the barest tilt of his head.
“That will depend.” Legolas could not help but smile, flushed with exultation in his victory.
“On?”
“On whether you can be reasonable.”

NOTES:

Ada: Father
Peredhil: Half-elf

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Nothing Gold Can Stay