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The Gift or The Giver	By : Wednesdayschild Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 865 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Gift or The Giver
- 2-ch 2
- 1
- 2
Title: The Gift or The Giver

Author: Wednesdayschild

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: slash

Spoilers: LOTR

Pairings: Legolas/Gimli

Disclaimer: I don�t own them, because if I did I wouldn�t be as in debt as I am. No profit is being made.

~

�Elf, get down here now! You�re being ridiculous,� Gimli shouted up to his dearest friend, who had climbed up to the roof above the balcony of his rooms in Minas Tirith.

�Nay! It is far preferable to be here at the moment. Leave me be, Gimli,� was the response from the errant elf.

�Legolas, it can�t be as bad as all that! Now be reasonable and come back inside. I�ll pour you a goblet of wine and you can tell me what exactly happened. Aragorn wasn�t very forthcoming, and besides, I want your side of the story,� Gimli called back, keeping a firm rein on his patience. An exaggerated sigh met his words and Legolas dropped down from his perch to land lightly in front of the dwarf.

�Very well, mellon-nin. Although I cannot see what good it will do.� The elf folded his tall, lean frame into one of the battered, but extremely comfortable chairs he and Gimli had appropriated for the room when they had first arrived back from the battle at the Black Gate.

Gimli poured a generous portion of the potent wine for the brooding elf and handed to his friend before settling himself in the chair opposite Legolas�. The elf did not speak at first, choosing instead to sip at his wine with a dark expression on his fair face. Gimli gathered himself mentally, preparing to compel his stubborn friend to speak of what was bothering him so very much.

�Now, Aragorn said that something happened with Lady Draugiel and her daughter, what was her name again?� Gimli knew quite well what the name of the elleth in question was, but knew that if he could get Legolas to answer him, he could get him to open up.

�Glosmir,� the elf supplied, chewing his lower lip in agitation. He sighed again, realizing that Gimli was not going to let it rest. �I told you before that Lady Draugiel has been pushing Glosmir at me since we both were out of baby clouts, did I not?� Gimli nodded. �Well, it seems that she has decided that my reluctance to comply with her wishes stems from my association with mortals and she has been bending the ears of all that she can reach with complaints about it, my Adar included.�

�What does your father say about it?� the dwarf asked. Legolas sighed again.

�That he will not push me into any kind of bond, that he wishes for me what he and my Naneth had, and several unflattering comments about Lady Draugiel. He is not happy that I have mortal friends, but he will not interfere by forbidding it. That is not the problem.� Legolas lapsed into another brooding silence, forcing Gimli to prompt him again.

�Well, at least he isn�t listening to the old nag. What is the problem, then?� The dwarf leaned forward, resting his elbows on the chair�s armrests.

�The problem is that I lost my temper and told her what I think of her and her daughter,� the elf answered softly, a shamed flush coloring his cheeks.

�What did you say, exactly?� Gimli prompted again, thinking that this was very like extracting delicate gems from hard rock.

�I told her that Glosmir is a very lovely elleth, but that I was not in any way attracted to her, and had never been and that Lady Draugiel was no better than one of the procurers that Aragorn is trying to run out of his kingdom for throwing her daughter at me all these years,� the elf replied, his eyes downcast. Gimli guffawed.

�That�s telling her, lad! You have a point, you know. You would think that she�d figure out after the first few times that you weren�t interested,� the dwarf pointed out logically.

�I would agree with that except that she is a very important member of my Adar�s council and I insulted her in front of half of Aragorn�s court,� Legolas replied, the flush on his cheeks extending to include his ears.

�So few of who speak Sindarin that you might as well have been alone in the room with her,� the dwarf pointed out reasonably. �Legolas, I know you better than to think that you�d have done that for no good reason. What did she say to you that caused you to react so strongly?� As Gimli watched, the elf�s blush became even deeper.

�She insulted you,� came the quiet reply.

�Me?� Gimli asked, his eyebrows lost in his hairline. Legolas nodded, chewing his lip again. A dark scowl formed on the dwarf�s face. �What exactly were her words,� he rumbled dangerously.

�Gimli, I�� the elf began.

�What. Did. She. Say?� Gimli grated out between his teeth. Legolas sighed, slouching miserably into his chair.

�That if I stopped �playing about� with you I might rediscover ellith,� Legolas muttered reluctantly. Gimli�s jaw dropped. Of every possible thing that might have been said, this was what he had least expected to hear. Abruptly, a flush rivaling any that had appeared on Legolas suffused Gimli�s face and he rose and left the room without another word. Legolas called after him, becoming visibly more upset when the dwarf did not answer.

Gimli retreated to his own rooms as quickly as he could without sacrificing any more of his dignity than he had already lost. He closed the door behind him, bolted it and leaned against the sturdy slab of wood, lost in thought.

How? How had the scheming lady seen what Legolas had not? Gimli had long been attracted to Legolas, well before the beginnings of their friendship as a matter of fact. During the first part of the Fellowship�s journey, glaring at the elf had been an excuse to study his fair form and face. After Moria, Legolas� actions in that dark place and his reaction to Gandalf�s demise had changed the open disdain and clandestine study to bemused tolerance and tentative friendship. The stay in Lothlórien had heralded the true beginning of their friendship and Gimli�s self-acknowledgement of his attraction to the elf prince. Somewhere between the Golden Wood and Minas Tirith, attraction and friendship had developed into something far more than the dwarf had ever expected.

It would have been the deepest folly to reveal his feelings to the elf during the quest or in the hectic days that had followed its conclusion, and so Gimli had bided his time, waiting for the most opportune moment but it had never arrived. In all the time since they first began truly speaking with each other, Legolas had never given Gimli any indication whether or not the dwarf�s feelings were returned, nor had he ever revealed where his own interests lay or if he even had any interests. Gimli continued to wait, telling himself to be content in the close friendship he shared with the archer.

Still, he could not help but be affected by the events in the elf�s life, especially when they upset Legolas as this had. Gimli�s cheeks burned anew, how had she seen it? What had he done to give himself away?

Perhaps it had been during the last feast that Gondor had hosted. Legolas had been resplendent in his pale green silk tunic, dark green breeches, and the circlet that Gimli had fashioned for him. The candlelight of Aragorn Elessar�s hall cast a warm glow over the elf, complimenting his own natural glow and Gimli had been mesmerized. He had barely retained the presence of mind to respond when Legolas spoke to him throughout the meal.

The elf had been oblivious to the dwarf�s distracted state and when the meal was over the two of them had walked together in the gardens, the elf�s suggestion and very nearly Gimli�s undoing. If the candlelight had made the elf�s glow brighter, the moonlight made him radiant beyond all belief. Gimli had been able only to stare at his friend as they walked. It was then that they chanced upon the redoubtable lady and her quiet daughter. She spoke quite pleasantly to Legolas, but eyed the dwarf as if he was a particularly distasteful insect. The irritation her disdain caused enabled Gimli to regain control of himself and so not reveal his desires to Legolas. Evidently, however, the lady had seen perfectly well what the prince missed.

Gimli sighed, pushed off from the door, and collapsed into the first chair he came to, burying his head in his hands. He felt like the biggest fool that had ever lived. Here he was, a dwarf in love with an elf. Not just any old elf, but a prince and the son of the king that had imprisoned his father. While Gloin had long since adopted a fairly philosophical attitude towards his brief imprisonment in Mirkwood, Gimli was fairly certain that he would not be please with his son�s choice.

Worse yet was Gimli�s ever increasing habit of fantasizing about the elf. In his mind�s eye, the dwarf envisioned clearly his friend in settings he had not in reality seen. The first was Legolas lying in a nest of fine pillows, his face flushed with desire, his hair loose, his lips swollen from demanding kisses, looking both wanton and beautiful. The second was Legolas lying in the same nest of pillows, looking mussed and debauched and thoroughly sated, his eyes half lidded in drowsy contentment and a sensual smile on his lips. The dwarf would cheerfully give any amount of treasure up to and including his own strong right arm to see both these visions first hand and to be the instigator of them.

A whisper of a sound reached the dwarf�s ears and his head snapped up, his eyes automatically drawn to his balcony. Legolas was crouched just beyond the threshold, having leapt down from the roof above, his fair face bearing an expression of mingled worry and exasperation.

�It is a sad day when I must play the burglar to continue a conversation with you,� the elf commented, remaining in the position in which he had landed. �Need I fear that Lady Draugiel will meet the blade of your axe?�

�Nay,� Gimli replied glumly, �though the thought cheers me, the old nag is safe from me and my axe.� He rubbed his eyes, suddenly weary beyond words. Legolas frowned, cocking his head and studying Gimli with deepened concern.

�Gimli, what ails you? The wagging tongue of a narrow-minded, hidebound, matchmaking busybody should not be enough to bring you so low.� The elf rose to his full height and crossed the room, dropping down to sit cross-legged in front of his friend and laying a hand lightly on the dwarf�s knee.

�It was enough to send you fleeing to the rooftops, may I remind you,� the dwarf returned tartly, thinking quickly. Legolas shrugged in a typically elaborate elven fashion.

�Her wagging tongue can cause me far more headaches than it can you,� he pointed out. �Ithilien is sounding better all the time. At least there I can limit her access to me.�

�She�s caused headaches enough,� Gimli muttered, rubbing his temples. Almost immediately he winced, belatedly remembering both Legolas� proximity and the keenness of elven hearing. A quick look confirmed that the elf had indeed heard him clearly; Legolas was tilting his head and studying him again. The dwarf ran his hand over his face and uttered a particularly strong curse in his own tongue. If fate and his own cursed tongue were to force his hand, so be it. �Lad, I think we need to talk.� Legolas nodded, not moving from his seat.

�Yes, it seems that we do. Something more than a scheming lady has been troubling you for some time,� the elf stated, meeting Gimli�s gaze. �I would help, if I may.�

�You may not wish to after you hear what I have to say,� the dwarf cautioned.

�Allow me to be the judge of that,� Legolas replied with a faint smile. �I find it difficult to think of anything that would diminish my respect and affection for you.� Gimli winced yet again, but plunged ahead before his nerve failed him.

�Lad, my �affection� for you runs a good bit deeper than just friendship,� the dwarf began, a flush creeping over his face and neck beneath his beard. �Do you understand?� Legolas stared blankly at him for a moment.

�Are you telling me that you desire me? That you love me?� he asked softly, an uncertain look stealing over his fine features.

�Aye, to both,� Gimli replied, not daring to look away for even a second. Legolas blinked, a strangely vulnerable look replacing the uncertain one.

�I had never considered this,� he whispered, breaking eye contact. Suddenly, he looked up again. �Gimli, I need to think on this awhile.� The dwarf�s heart sank, but he nodded.

�Take all the time you need, lad. You know where I�ll be.� He forced a smile, but Legolas was not fooled for a moment. Swiftly, he caught both of Gimli�s hands.

�No, Gimli. I am surprised only and need time to think. I am not rejecting you, do you hear me?� He drew a deep breath and rose to his knees, leaning forward to press his cheek against Gimli�s. �Let me think this through, please.�

�Aye, I will,� the dwarf whispered around the lump in his throat. Legolas pulled back and smiled at him.

�I will expect you not to do anything foolish until we continue this discussion, mellon-nin. Do I have your word that you will stay in Minas Tirith and behave yourself?� A suddenly serious expression belied the teasing tone in the elf�s voice and Gimli nodded, unable to speak. �I will hold you to that, Gimli.� Like quicksilver, the elf�s lips brushed across Gimli�s and Legolas was gone by the same route he had entered the room. The kiss felt like a promise and Gimli shuddered, his desire reawakened by the brief touch.

Legolas sat in the middle of the deserted garden, singing softly to the stars while he pondered the revelation Gimli had made to him. He had not been entirely truthful with his friend when he had said that he had never considered the possibility of anything more than friendship between them. He had never considered that Gimli might be interested in such, but for himself he had certainly thought of it and frequently.

Knowing the prickly pride of dwarves, Legolas had prudently held his peace when he felt the first stirrings of desire for his companion. That had been during their walks through the Golden Wood and the feelings had grown into far more during their travels since. The elf had resolutely buried these feeling deep within himself, believing that they could never be returned. He had had centuries of practice at hiding what he felt and he put all of it to use. The sudden revelation that his feelings were returned had rocked him to his foundations.

He sighed and his song took on a more mournful turn. His heart was given. There would be no other choice for him, he knew that. Whether or not he acted upon it, he was Gimli�s for the rest of the dwarf�s life and for all eternity. For all his father�s words about wanting the same great love for him as he had had with Legolas� mother, Thranduil was not likely to welcome a dwarf as his son�s lover not even one so courageous and accomplished as Gimli. The dwarf�s sire would be liable to react even more strongly than Legolas�. In addition, bonded relationships of this nature between members of the same gender were not universally accepted by the races of Arda, let alone a relationship between members of the same gender who were of different races. Consequences, consequences! Was not life supposed to be simpler in the wake of such events as they had just lived through?

He sighed irritably, ending his song abruptly and raking his fingers through his unbraided hair. A soft footfall behind him alerted him to the presence of the one human who could approach him in stealth from behind and not get an arrow through his heart for it.

�An orc would have heard you from the time you left the path and skewered you by now, Aragorn,� the elf commented tartly, not bothering to turn his eyes from the heavens.

�Then it is fortunate for me that you are no orc,� the king shot back smoothly. �What troubles you so, my friend? Is the sea-longing particularly strong tonight?�

�No, it is there still, like a whisper of breeze through the treetops, but it bothers me little this night,� Legolas replied softly, still not looking at his longtime friend.

�What is it, then? I have never seen you as you are now.� The king looked closely at his friend and then nodded, beginning to comprehend. �Ah, it is Gimli, then,� he stated, a slight smile gracing his face. The elf turned shocked eyes on the king, who had the temerity to laugh. �I wondered which of the two of you would speak first. I owe Arwen a forfeit, for I was certain that you would.�

�How is it that the both of you saw this and I did not until he told me?� Legolas asked testily. �I do not like my personal life being the subject of a wager between two who I hold as close as my siblings.�

�Peace, my friend. Smooth your ruffled feathers for a moment and listen to me.� The elf bridled even more at that and Aragorn rolled his eyes before seating himself on the stone bench next to Legolas and wrapping a brotherly arm around the archer�s tense shoulders. �I saw in Lothlórien how the two of you looked at each other when you thought no one else was looking. I doubt anyone else saw it, at least not until we met up with Gandalf in Fangorn Forest. He saw it clearly, I assure you. He was actually rather surprised that neither of you had acted upon it by then, and especially after Helm�s Deep, but he decided not to meddle.�

�That would be a first where he is concerned,� the prince commented sourly, prompting a remonstrative shake of his shoulders by the king. He merely scowled at Aragorn in response.

�Arwen, being Elrond�s daughter and very perceptive in her own right, saw it as soon as she laid eyes on the two of you together when she arrived in Minas Tirith.� The king stood and moved to stand behind the elf. �You are far too tense, Legolas,� he commented, the healer coming to the fore as he began to knead his friend�s shoulders. �Try to relax and talk to me. I am your friend, regardless of what path you decide to tread.� The elf sighed, surrendering to his ministrations.

�I fear what will become of us whatever I choose. He does not know that his feelings are requited. I have not told him,� the elf admitted.

�Why not? Love is a gift, Legolas, wherever it is given.� Aragorn did not pause in his actions and was please to feel a slight lessening in the tension of the shoulders beneath his hands.

�I know that, but I would not be the cause of strife or pain to any that I care for and whatever I choose to do, I cannot avoid that this time. I do not know which road to take.� The prince�s voice died to a mere whisper at the last, but Aragorn heard him.

�What does your heart tell you?� he asked, smiling slightly at the thought of using the same phrase to Legolas as he had to Gandalf.

�To accept this and let everything else sort itself out,� the elf replied, the longing in his voice plain for once.

�Then do, and know that you have my support as well as Arwen�s and Gandalf�s. You and Gimli will always be welcome in my home as often and as long as you wish to stay and there is always Ithilien. It is not so far from Algarond as Minas Tirith or Eryn Lasgalen, you know.� Legolas looked up at him then and he grinned. �Arwen and I have been discussing how best to help the two of you at such time as you both decided to remove your heads from your nether regions and admit what you both feel.� He dodged a half-hearted swipe of the elf�s arm.

�The hobbits are going to have a grand time with this, are they not?� Legolas asked with a chuckle.

�I do not doubt it. Once they get over the shock, assuming that they have not already seen it for themselves, they will insist on making a huge fuss over the two of you. Of course they will insist on having a party.� The humor was thick in the king�s voice. Legolas groaned.

�I suppose it would be very bad manners to be absent from a party in one�s honor, would it not?�

�Yes, it would indeed, mellon-nin. You will simply have to be gracious and try to water down their ale as much as possible,� Aragorn said with a laugh.

�Not possible. Pippin can taste one drop of water in a pint of ale. We are doomed,� Legolas predicted, but he was smiling. The king laughed and gave the elf�s shoulders a final squeeze.

�Go talk to Gimli,� he said, giving Legolas a light shove.

�It is the middle of the night. Perhaps morning would be better,� the elf said softly.

�Do you seriously think he will be asleep after what he told you?� Aragorn asked, arching a brow at his friend.

�No, you are right. I will go to him now.� The prince gripped the king�s shoulder in the manner of warriors, but pulled him close until their foreheads touched. �Thank you, my friend.�
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The Gift or The Giver