Fic for Lady Korana- Part 5
Aug. 10th, 2008 02:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tarotgalSorry this one isn't... well, fetishy. It's about halfway through the series and time for them to have a meaningful conversation about things. Hope you don't mind. I'll make up for it next month *G*
Title: Currently Untitled
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Rating: G
Pairing: Legolas/Gimli
Disclaimer: Not mine! No money made! Please don’t sue!
Summary: A series of events in their lives.
Series so far: Prologue, Mislead, Torment, Deceit, Messages
Assistance
The fall was cooler than Gimli had ever remembered it being. And the winter was colder and full of snow. Both had Gimli on edge constantly, worrying about Legolas constantly. The beginning of spring was cool and wet, and that was the last straw for the dwarf. When Legolas’ father sent his usual invitation to them to stay a while in Mirkwood, Gimli accepted before Legolas could even try to persuade him.
Gimli’s assumption that the weather had something to do with Legolas’ colds was not completely without basis. Legolas had all but admitted to him that elves could sometimes fall ill in less-than-elvish conditions. And much as Gimli did not want to believe it, living with a dwarf in the mountains was not the best place for his elf.
Apparently, however, Mirkwood this season was no better. There was a chill in the air from the moment Gimli woke every morning and Legolas was always up and awake during the whole, chilly night. So Gimli considered their hot, morning routine in bed to just as much a necessity as a pleasure. And he kept his ears attuned to Legolas, anticipating the first sniffle or harsh rasp of breath. In Gimli’s opinion, it was merely a matter of time before Legolas fell ill again. All he could do was wait and be prepared for the inevitable.
“Hold it firmly but not tightly,” Legolas said, laying his hand on the smaller shoulder. He ran his hand down the extended arm, which tensed up a little, making the bow stand straight, perpendicular to the ground. “Let it be an extension of your arm, not a thing in your hand.” The arm relaxed slightly to a more natural position. “Good. That is better. That will serve you well.”
Gimli smiled with pride and looked up at Legolas.
Despite a soothing, encouraging tone, the elf showed no emotion on his face as he moved from one elfling to the next in the row, inspecting their stances and commenting on what he saw about each. His father apparently trusted him enough to guard the One Ring and save Middle Earth but not enough to teach the best young archers. Or even the second best. Or third. Or anything but the worst. Not that he minded terribly; he simply had to continuously remind himself to teach the very basics. Gimli could see Legolas fighting with himself over it, even from where he sat, a short distance away from the group.
He could also see one of the elflings fighting against something. He recognized the twitching ears and squinting eyes. “Legolas?” Gimli called, feeling it was worth mentioning. Not only was the little elfling in distress, but Gimli was worried for Legolas’ health.
But the young elf looked imploringly at Gimli, and those bright green eyes made Gimli’s heart melt. A little hand reached up, swiped at a nose, and then snapped back down so quickly that it threw Gimli off.
When Legolas turned to Gimli, who was quite a few paces away, Gimli waved him off with a “Never mind. Continue.”
Once each of the elflings had a fair-to-moderate stance, Legolas proceeded to explain about the sort of steady rhythm and smooth movement needed to get an arrow from quiver to bow. Gimli couldn’t help but notice the little elfling with the insistent tickle in his nose. He also couldn’t help but notice that Legolas’ lecture was boring the little ones. They wanted hands-on practice, not talk.
“I want to see you all take out an arrow once more and hold that pose.” Legolas said, standing back. “On the count of three.” He counted, and when it was time, his students all did as they were expected to. Some did not pull the strings of their bows back quite far enough, and some still fumbled with arrow retrieval, but in all it was a good effort. Even Gimli was somewhat impressed, having seen how uncoordinated the elflings were that morning. However, before Legolas could speak any words of praise, one of the arrows was accidentally released.
The elfling Gimli had had his eye on before had reluctantly sneezed at just the wrong time. The arrow soared through the air, landing just a few feet short of the targets set out for them. No harm had been done but the elfling apologized profusely while scrubbing the back of his hand at his nose. “I did dot bead to! Blease forgibe be, Bridce Greedleaf?” For a moment, he looked as though he just wanted to curl up and disappear. But then a moment later, he snapped forward, sneezing wetly against his hand.
“Galu,” came synchronized blessings from both Legolas and Gimli. Legolas’ had been a kindness. Gimli’s had been out of habit. Legolas walked over to the elfling and reached down to feel for fever. Gimli flinched at the sight of the touch. “You might have told me if you were feeling poorly, Arranis.”
The elfling Arranis nodded and sniffled into the cuff of his brown sleeve. “I bight have bissed out od idstructiod thed.”
Gimli had to admit the elfling had a point. And Gimli had certainly been guilty of hiding a weakness or two over the years in order to spend more time with Legolas. All empathy was gone a moment later, when the elf sneezed yet again, catching Legolas’ hand and arm with the spray.
“May I have a handkerchief, Gimli?” Legolas asked, already holding his hand out for one.
Gimli always carried one, also a habit after so many of Legolas’ colds. He got up, walked over, handed it over, and then gripped Legolas’ arm. The older elf carefully rubbed the elfling’s runny nose for him, then pressed the folded hanky into Arranis’ hand. Flinching again, Gimli clenched his teeth and tightened his grip. “A word, Legolas?”
“I am in the middle of--”
“Now?” It was phrased as a question, but it was anything but. And his eyes not his tone conveyed his urgency.
Legolas gave a nod of agreement and told the class to practice their stances while he was gone. “You too, little one. Wipe your nose and practice. I shall be right back.” He ruffled Arranis’ hair and then followed Gimli to the far side of the clearing. They sat on the fallen tree Gimli had decided earlier would make a nice seat, as there was no nice, sturdy rock nearby for that purpose. “Yes?” Legolas asked casually, as though he had no idea why he was there.
“Do you really think this a good idea?”
“Hmm?” Legolas was either oblivious or very good at feigning ignorance so he could continue his lesson.
Gimli glanced back at the class. One sick elfling would become two or three by the end of the week. And as the cold spread throughout the class, the instructor would no doubt be equally susceptible. Possibly more-so, considering it was his Legolas. Gimli squeezed Legolas’ hand. “I do not want to see you ill. I do not want you feeling miserable. I do not want you catching a cold if it can be avoided.”
Legolas took Gimli’s hand in both of his and squeezed back. “Gimli, if I am meant to catch a cold, then I shall, precautions or not. You should have learned that much by now considering how many colds you have seen me through.”
Gimli shrugged and tensed up. This was not the conversation he wanted to have right now, in front of other elves. “After all we have been through, the fellowship, the battles, you and me… you can still claim our lives are not made from our choices?”
“I can say some things are out of my control,” Legolas replied. “Such as when the next time I might feel a little sniffly will be.”
There was silence between them for a while. Gimli watched the young elves and their bows. They definitely needed work. He took a deep breath. “So you are not feeling sniffly now?”
“Not now,” Legolas said, smiling one of his rare, genuine, face-lighting smiles. He breathed in and out, showing that his nose was clear.
Gimli did not feel especially comforted by that. He suspected a cold was not far away.
“Wait, Gimli, is this why I did not have to argue as usual with you about spending some time in Mirkwood? You thought it would help me avoid a cold?”
Flushing red, Gimli looked away, muttering “Silly.”
“Sweet,” Legolas corrected. “Misguided, but sweet.” He petted Gimli’s cheek, stoked the beard, and fingered one of the braids. “I hope you are not too miserable staying here amongst the elves.”
It was not his home, but Gimli had to admit he had not been miserable once during the stay. He could not possibly be miserable with Legolas at his side. And even if Legolas did fall ill eventually, he had still made it longer into the year than usual. That was something. Gimli looked over at the elflings again, watching them all, and then looking beyond them to the quiet, golden wood. He heard a bird chirp and saw graceful movement from one tree to another in the distance which could only be an elf. A soft breeze disturbed the leaves at the very top, making them rustle softly. The sun shone down in a beautiful, mid-morning haze. “I can stand it.”
“And will you be able to stand it the next time I come down with a cold?”
Gimli smiled up at his elf. “Aye… I have another handkerchief.”
“I know you do,” Legolas whispered, moving in for a kiss. It took a second for Gimli’s lips to respond, but then he kissed back out of habit. And then out of passion. Legolas’ kiss was more convincing than anything else and Gimli closed his eyes, letting his worries melt away during it.
Gimli had his hand in the elf’s blond hair and his tongue in the elf’s mouth. Legolas’ hand was on Gimli’s thigh, sending thrilling tingles throughout the dwarf. The kiss could have lasted five minutes, it could have been ten, or it could have been an hour. Gimli would have liked it to have gone on all day.
But it ended when Gimli heard a snigger. He opened his eyes to see the entire class of elflings standing not so far away, watching them. Legolas did not have eyes in the back of his head, but he did see Gimli’s shocked and embarrassed expression and he probably heard the same twittering laughter. Legolas winked at Gimli, and pulled back just enough to have use of his mouth. “I thought I asked you to practice?” He waited a beat then turned to see the elflings quickly disbanding and taking up their positions in line again as though they had been there the whole time. Legolas gave Gimli a quick peck of a kiss then resumed his instruction.
Before lunchtime, he had them aiming and shooting. Most of them missed the targets, but a few arrows got lucky. Gimli collected the arrows from the targets, ground, and surrounding trees in the safety between rounds. Legolas went down the row and back up again, offering tips, making corrections.
However, he went easy on Arranis, who probably should have stayed in bed that morning. The sneezing increased and progressed to coughing. Both became frequent enough that he was hardly able to grab and arrow and shoot. Legolas checked his head again as the elflings was blowing his nose. His bow lay abandoned on the ground and his face was almost completely eclipsed by the large cloth. Legolas leaned over. “Perhaps you should go sit down for a little while? You do not have to leave; you could still listen to my instruction.” Reluctantly, the little elf nodded, sniffed hard, and nodded again. “Go sit next to Gimli, all right?”
Legolas had planned to stop for the day when the sun reached its apex, but they were making good progress so he considered letting it go a little longer despite rumbling stomachs.
At first, Arranis merely sat on the log a few feet from Gimli. But after a while, the little one started to fade. Gimli had seen Legolas do the same many times, and he supposed he would again, probably much sooner than he would have liked. “Come here,” Gimli whispered, and the Arranis scooted closer. Gimli patted the elf’s back reassuringly and kept him from nodding off and falling off the log to his embarrassment. Soon the elfling had snuggled into his side and was snoring lightly.
“One last thing for the day, I think.” Legolas turned to call Gimli and instead found himself smiling at the scene before him. Gimli was so good at being comforting to a sick elf, and Arranis looked so comfortable that Legolas almost hated to break it up. “Gimli? Could I borrow you for a moment, please?”
Gimli woke Arranis and made sure he was all right before going over to stand in front the class with Legolas. “Final lesson of the day,” Legolas said. He had brought the arrows and bows from a bag that Gimli had thought was now empty. But instead Legolas took out a small sack of apples. “Precision.” He set one apple down on Gimli’s head.
“Oh no.”
“You will be fine,” Legolas assured him. “You do trust me?”
“I trust you,” Gimli replied. He dropped his voice and eyed the elflings. “Only you.” For once that day, Gimli was busy worrying about someone other than Legolas. He found himself blindfolded and standing with his back against a tree. He refused to look scared, but he had been paying attention earlier and did not think this a very good way to practice precision.
“I want you to spend a few seconds aiming and then take turns trying to hit the apple. Hands in the air. Who wishes to try first?”
Gimli’s heart pounded hard. If none of them volunteered, would Legolas let the task drop for the day? When he had agreed to help Legolas out it had been so he could keep an eye on his elf. It was difficult to do that while blindfolded… and run through with arrows.
“Arranis? You are feeling up to it?” There was a pause, and some coughing, and Gimli wanted to shake his head ‘no’ but was too terrified to move his head by this point. “Good. Get your bow and stand right here by me.”
“Legolas?” This was not a good idea. He heard a sneeze and some sniffling. Gimli’s voice rose slightly in tone. “Legolas?”
“Hold still,” Legolas answered him. Then, to Arranis, “That’s right. Hold your bow like that. Do not sneeze now. Aim and fire when you have it.”
Sweat trickled down the back of Gimli’s neck. His hands were clenched in tight fists. Elves were strange and unpredictable; he should have known something like this might happen sooner or later in Mirkwood. He waited in darkness, stomach turning over and over in worry.
But then it all happened at once. There was a sharp inhale leading to a sneeze followed by the soft twang of an arrow leaving its bow leading to a strong thump as the arrow struck something.
Gimli immediately grabbed at the blindfold and pulled it down. He studied his body at once, looking for the spot where an arrow might be. He did not see one. Two fingers dug into his beard and found his chin, lifting it up. He saw Legolas standing just in front of him, where apparently he had been standing all along. He held the apple impaled on an arrow he had shot. “That,” Legolas whispered to him, “is for not telling me the true reason you agreed to come here.” He slid the apple off and placed it in Gimli’s hand. “That is for lunch. And this…” Legolas leaned over and kissed Gimli, “is for trusting me.” He looked over his shoulder. “Help yourselves to the apples as a reward for doing well today and I shall see you back here tomorrow morning.”
With Gimli pinned against the tree, Legolas kissed him hard. Gimli noticed a few elflings watching them and whispering to each other. He strained to hear and clearly caught one whispering about how he wanted his very own dwarf to love when he grew up. Gimli chuckled against the kiss. Legolas held the kiss and Gimli closed his eyes again, listening to the elf’s breathing for signs of stuffiness. He would get Legolas back for the trick later. After the kiss. Yes, after the kiss and after that which would come after the kiss.
Title: Currently Untitled
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Rating: G
Pairing: Legolas/Gimli
Disclaimer: Not mine! No money made! Please don’t sue!
Summary: A series of events in their lives.
Series so far: Prologue, Mislead, Torment, Deceit, Messages
Assistance
The fall was cooler than Gimli had ever remembered it being. And the winter was colder and full of snow. Both had Gimli on edge constantly, worrying about Legolas constantly. The beginning of spring was cool and wet, and that was the last straw for the dwarf. When Legolas’ father sent his usual invitation to them to stay a while in Mirkwood, Gimli accepted before Legolas could even try to persuade him.
Gimli’s assumption that the weather had something to do with Legolas’ colds was not completely without basis. Legolas had all but admitted to him that elves could sometimes fall ill in less-than-elvish conditions. And much as Gimli did not want to believe it, living with a dwarf in the mountains was not the best place for his elf.
Apparently, however, Mirkwood this season was no better. There was a chill in the air from the moment Gimli woke every morning and Legolas was always up and awake during the whole, chilly night. So Gimli considered their hot, morning routine in bed to just as much a necessity as a pleasure. And he kept his ears attuned to Legolas, anticipating the first sniffle or harsh rasp of breath. In Gimli’s opinion, it was merely a matter of time before Legolas fell ill again. All he could do was wait and be prepared for the inevitable.
“Hold it firmly but not tightly,” Legolas said, laying his hand on the smaller shoulder. He ran his hand down the extended arm, which tensed up a little, making the bow stand straight, perpendicular to the ground. “Let it be an extension of your arm, not a thing in your hand.” The arm relaxed slightly to a more natural position. “Good. That is better. That will serve you well.”
Gimli smiled with pride and looked up at Legolas.
Despite a soothing, encouraging tone, the elf showed no emotion on his face as he moved from one elfling to the next in the row, inspecting their stances and commenting on what he saw about each. His father apparently trusted him enough to guard the One Ring and save Middle Earth but not enough to teach the best young archers. Or even the second best. Or third. Or anything but the worst. Not that he minded terribly; he simply had to continuously remind himself to teach the very basics. Gimli could see Legolas fighting with himself over it, even from where he sat, a short distance away from the group.
He could also see one of the elflings fighting against something. He recognized the twitching ears and squinting eyes. “Legolas?” Gimli called, feeling it was worth mentioning. Not only was the little elfling in distress, but Gimli was worried for Legolas’ health.
But the young elf looked imploringly at Gimli, and those bright green eyes made Gimli’s heart melt. A little hand reached up, swiped at a nose, and then snapped back down so quickly that it threw Gimli off.
When Legolas turned to Gimli, who was quite a few paces away, Gimli waved him off with a “Never mind. Continue.”
Once each of the elflings had a fair-to-moderate stance, Legolas proceeded to explain about the sort of steady rhythm and smooth movement needed to get an arrow from quiver to bow. Gimli couldn’t help but notice the little elfling with the insistent tickle in his nose. He also couldn’t help but notice that Legolas’ lecture was boring the little ones. They wanted hands-on practice, not talk.
“I want to see you all take out an arrow once more and hold that pose.” Legolas said, standing back. “On the count of three.” He counted, and when it was time, his students all did as they were expected to. Some did not pull the strings of their bows back quite far enough, and some still fumbled with arrow retrieval, but in all it was a good effort. Even Gimli was somewhat impressed, having seen how uncoordinated the elflings were that morning. However, before Legolas could speak any words of praise, one of the arrows was accidentally released.
The elfling Gimli had had his eye on before had reluctantly sneezed at just the wrong time. The arrow soared through the air, landing just a few feet short of the targets set out for them. No harm had been done but the elfling apologized profusely while scrubbing the back of his hand at his nose. “I did dot bead to! Blease forgibe be, Bridce Greedleaf?” For a moment, he looked as though he just wanted to curl up and disappear. But then a moment later, he snapped forward, sneezing wetly against his hand.
“Galu,” came synchronized blessings from both Legolas and Gimli. Legolas’ had been a kindness. Gimli’s had been out of habit. Legolas walked over to the elfling and reached down to feel for fever. Gimli flinched at the sight of the touch. “You might have told me if you were feeling poorly, Arranis.”
The elfling Arranis nodded and sniffled into the cuff of his brown sleeve. “I bight have bissed out od idstructiod thed.”
Gimli had to admit the elfling had a point. And Gimli had certainly been guilty of hiding a weakness or two over the years in order to spend more time with Legolas. All empathy was gone a moment later, when the elf sneezed yet again, catching Legolas’ hand and arm with the spray.
“May I have a handkerchief, Gimli?” Legolas asked, already holding his hand out for one.
Gimli always carried one, also a habit after so many of Legolas’ colds. He got up, walked over, handed it over, and then gripped Legolas’ arm. The older elf carefully rubbed the elfling’s runny nose for him, then pressed the folded hanky into Arranis’ hand. Flinching again, Gimli clenched his teeth and tightened his grip. “A word, Legolas?”
“I am in the middle of--”
“Now?” It was phrased as a question, but it was anything but. And his eyes not his tone conveyed his urgency.
Legolas gave a nod of agreement and told the class to practice their stances while he was gone. “You too, little one. Wipe your nose and practice. I shall be right back.” He ruffled Arranis’ hair and then followed Gimli to the far side of the clearing. They sat on the fallen tree Gimli had decided earlier would make a nice seat, as there was no nice, sturdy rock nearby for that purpose. “Yes?” Legolas asked casually, as though he had no idea why he was there.
“Do you really think this a good idea?”
“Hmm?” Legolas was either oblivious or very good at feigning ignorance so he could continue his lesson.
Gimli glanced back at the class. One sick elfling would become two or three by the end of the week. And as the cold spread throughout the class, the instructor would no doubt be equally susceptible. Possibly more-so, considering it was his Legolas. Gimli squeezed Legolas’ hand. “I do not want to see you ill. I do not want you feeling miserable. I do not want you catching a cold if it can be avoided.”
Legolas took Gimli’s hand in both of his and squeezed back. “Gimli, if I am meant to catch a cold, then I shall, precautions or not. You should have learned that much by now considering how many colds you have seen me through.”
Gimli shrugged and tensed up. This was not the conversation he wanted to have right now, in front of other elves. “After all we have been through, the fellowship, the battles, you and me… you can still claim our lives are not made from our choices?”
“I can say some things are out of my control,” Legolas replied. “Such as when the next time I might feel a little sniffly will be.”
There was silence between them for a while. Gimli watched the young elves and their bows. They definitely needed work. He took a deep breath. “So you are not feeling sniffly now?”
“Not now,” Legolas said, smiling one of his rare, genuine, face-lighting smiles. He breathed in and out, showing that his nose was clear.
Gimli did not feel especially comforted by that. He suspected a cold was not far away.
“Wait, Gimli, is this why I did not have to argue as usual with you about spending some time in Mirkwood? You thought it would help me avoid a cold?”
Flushing red, Gimli looked away, muttering “Silly.”
“Sweet,” Legolas corrected. “Misguided, but sweet.” He petted Gimli’s cheek, stoked the beard, and fingered one of the braids. “I hope you are not too miserable staying here amongst the elves.”
It was not his home, but Gimli had to admit he had not been miserable once during the stay. He could not possibly be miserable with Legolas at his side. And even if Legolas did fall ill eventually, he had still made it longer into the year than usual. That was something. Gimli looked over at the elflings again, watching them all, and then looking beyond them to the quiet, golden wood. He heard a bird chirp and saw graceful movement from one tree to another in the distance which could only be an elf. A soft breeze disturbed the leaves at the very top, making them rustle softly. The sun shone down in a beautiful, mid-morning haze. “I can stand it.”
“And will you be able to stand it the next time I come down with a cold?”
Gimli smiled up at his elf. “Aye… I have another handkerchief.”
“I know you do,” Legolas whispered, moving in for a kiss. It took a second for Gimli’s lips to respond, but then he kissed back out of habit. And then out of passion. Legolas’ kiss was more convincing than anything else and Gimli closed his eyes, letting his worries melt away during it.
Gimli had his hand in the elf’s blond hair and his tongue in the elf’s mouth. Legolas’ hand was on Gimli’s thigh, sending thrilling tingles throughout the dwarf. The kiss could have lasted five minutes, it could have been ten, or it could have been an hour. Gimli would have liked it to have gone on all day.
But it ended when Gimli heard a snigger. He opened his eyes to see the entire class of elflings standing not so far away, watching them. Legolas did not have eyes in the back of his head, but he did see Gimli’s shocked and embarrassed expression and he probably heard the same twittering laughter. Legolas winked at Gimli, and pulled back just enough to have use of his mouth. “I thought I asked you to practice?” He waited a beat then turned to see the elflings quickly disbanding and taking up their positions in line again as though they had been there the whole time. Legolas gave Gimli a quick peck of a kiss then resumed his instruction.
Before lunchtime, he had them aiming and shooting. Most of them missed the targets, but a few arrows got lucky. Gimli collected the arrows from the targets, ground, and surrounding trees in the safety between rounds. Legolas went down the row and back up again, offering tips, making corrections.
However, he went easy on Arranis, who probably should have stayed in bed that morning. The sneezing increased and progressed to coughing. Both became frequent enough that he was hardly able to grab and arrow and shoot. Legolas checked his head again as the elflings was blowing his nose. His bow lay abandoned on the ground and his face was almost completely eclipsed by the large cloth. Legolas leaned over. “Perhaps you should go sit down for a little while? You do not have to leave; you could still listen to my instruction.” Reluctantly, the little elf nodded, sniffed hard, and nodded again. “Go sit next to Gimli, all right?”
Legolas had planned to stop for the day when the sun reached its apex, but they were making good progress so he considered letting it go a little longer despite rumbling stomachs.
At first, Arranis merely sat on the log a few feet from Gimli. But after a while, the little one started to fade. Gimli had seen Legolas do the same many times, and he supposed he would again, probably much sooner than he would have liked. “Come here,” Gimli whispered, and the Arranis scooted closer. Gimli patted the elf’s back reassuringly and kept him from nodding off and falling off the log to his embarrassment. Soon the elfling had snuggled into his side and was snoring lightly.
“One last thing for the day, I think.” Legolas turned to call Gimli and instead found himself smiling at the scene before him. Gimli was so good at being comforting to a sick elf, and Arranis looked so comfortable that Legolas almost hated to break it up. “Gimli? Could I borrow you for a moment, please?”
Gimli woke Arranis and made sure he was all right before going over to stand in front the class with Legolas. “Final lesson of the day,” Legolas said. He had brought the arrows and bows from a bag that Gimli had thought was now empty. But instead Legolas took out a small sack of apples. “Precision.” He set one apple down on Gimli’s head.
“Oh no.”
“You will be fine,” Legolas assured him. “You do trust me?”
“I trust you,” Gimli replied. He dropped his voice and eyed the elflings. “Only you.” For once that day, Gimli was busy worrying about someone other than Legolas. He found himself blindfolded and standing with his back against a tree. He refused to look scared, but he had been paying attention earlier and did not think this a very good way to practice precision.
“I want you to spend a few seconds aiming and then take turns trying to hit the apple. Hands in the air. Who wishes to try first?”
Gimli’s heart pounded hard. If none of them volunteered, would Legolas let the task drop for the day? When he had agreed to help Legolas out it had been so he could keep an eye on his elf. It was difficult to do that while blindfolded… and run through with arrows.
“Arranis? You are feeling up to it?” There was a pause, and some coughing, and Gimli wanted to shake his head ‘no’ but was too terrified to move his head by this point. “Good. Get your bow and stand right here by me.”
“Legolas?” This was not a good idea. He heard a sneeze and some sniffling. Gimli’s voice rose slightly in tone. “Legolas?”
“Hold still,” Legolas answered him. Then, to Arranis, “That’s right. Hold your bow like that. Do not sneeze now. Aim and fire when you have it.”
Sweat trickled down the back of Gimli’s neck. His hands were clenched in tight fists. Elves were strange and unpredictable; he should have known something like this might happen sooner or later in Mirkwood. He waited in darkness, stomach turning over and over in worry.
But then it all happened at once. There was a sharp inhale leading to a sneeze followed by the soft twang of an arrow leaving its bow leading to a strong thump as the arrow struck something.
Gimli immediately grabbed at the blindfold and pulled it down. He studied his body at once, looking for the spot where an arrow might be. He did not see one. Two fingers dug into his beard and found his chin, lifting it up. He saw Legolas standing just in front of him, where apparently he had been standing all along. He held the apple impaled on an arrow he had shot. “That,” Legolas whispered to him, “is for not telling me the true reason you agreed to come here.” He slid the apple off and placed it in Gimli’s hand. “That is for lunch. And this…” Legolas leaned over and kissed Gimli, “is for trusting me.” He looked over his shoulder. “Help yourselves to the apples as a reward for doing well today and I shall see you back here tomorrow morning.”
With Gimli pinned against the tree, Legolas kissed him hard. Gimli noticed a few elflings watching them and whispering to each other. He strained to hear and clearly caught one whispering about how he wanted his very own dwarf to love when he grew up. Gimli chuckled against the kiss. Legolas held the kiss and Gimli closed his eyes again, listening to the elf’s breathing for signs of stuffiness. He would get Legolas back for the trick later. After the kiss. Yes, after the kiss and after that which would come after the kiss.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-11 04:36 pm (UTC)I adore Legolas in this role as archery instructor to little elflings! You've written him so patient and good with children. It probably comes naturally to him after dealing with some of Gimli's stranger notions, as we see here. Silly Gimli! I could have told him that going to a thick, damp forest up north is no guarantee against Legolas falling ill, hehe.
The poor sniffly little elfling was adorable! I love how Gimli seems to be a sick elf magnet. Guess people just sleep better resting on a dwarf...no wonder so many of the elflings want one now too! ;)
Nice trick he pulled too! For a second there I was like 'NO. He's not really going to let the elflings point arrows anywhere near Gimli, is he?' I couldn't imagine Legolas would seriously put Gimli's safety at risk, so I was very relieved with the subterfuge.
And don't you dare apologize for content! There was more than enough discussion of fun things to keep me well pleased and full of happy thoughts. In fact, this whole chapter felt like one extended teaser leading up to some amazing yumminess to come. Based on your comment about making up for it next month, I suspect I may be right. *G*
Thanks so much for this! I can't wait until September 10th. Between the next chapter, and the Torchwood radio play on BBC Radio 4, that's going to be one heck of an awesome day!