Fic for Lady Korana- Part 7
Oct. 10th, 2008 12:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tarotgalWas in sort of an h/c mood this week. Who woulda thunk? Totally unedited. Sorry for any mistakes and/or weirdness you may encounter.
Title: Currently Untitled
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Rating: PG-13
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, Mistakes
Certainty
Gimli wished for Aragorn’s talents as a tracker. And he wished for Legolas’ heightened senses. All he had right now was a stitch in his side, a fire in his chest, and a rage that could not be contained. He should have been at home in these caves. He should have been able to find his way through the maze. He should have been able to get to Legolas more quickly.
There were shooting pains in his arms from the intensity of the fight with the Olog-hai. He could barely keep his axe up at the ready in both hands as he ran through the cavernous underground tunnels. Legolas was here somewhere, hidden away, hopefully bound and not… not dead. Gimli fought back a wave of nausea and groaned as he approached an intersection. He slammed against the side of a cold, damp cave wall to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he listened to his ragged breathing and thumping heart. He had neither tracking skills nor heightened senses, but he had something better. Something deep down in his stomach told him Legolas lay to the right. So Gimli’s feet moved in that direction before he even made a conscious effort to push off the wall and sprint onward.
Though the dwarf did not usually run, Legolas recognized the footsteps immediately. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Gimli in silhouette, standing at the end of the tunnel. He tried to call out, but loud breathing was all he could manage.
At first, Gimli did not see him. His heart sank to find yet another dead end. But then he caught sight of a pair of shiny eyes, staring out from the darkness like a frightened wild animal. Gimli nearly passed out with relief. He looked around to be sure they were alone, then he charged forward. He raised his axe along the way. The second he got to the elf, he lowered the blade and cut clean through the bindings holding Legolas’ ankles to the ground. Then came a similar slice at his thighs and another at his waist. Each cut was strong but stopped just short of clothing and skin. The precise cuts set Legolas’ lower body free.
Legolas looked up, beyond grateful. Then he turned his head and sneezed viciously into his shoulder. His hands were bound behind his back. He sniffled and rubbed his nose into whatever part of his shoulder and upper arm he could reach, which wasn’t much. Gimli ached with sympathy. “We need to get outside,” he told Legolas. “I killed two but there could be others.”
Legolas shook his head. “Only two,” he whispered. Even his whisper had a dry, croaking sound to it. Gimli cut the bonds at the elf’s wrists. Legolas moved with the slow, deliberate action of one who has not moved for days as he brought his arms out from behind his back. The first thing he did was to rub his nose. “Knew you would come.” He sniffed again, miserably. “Sick.”
“Hardly surprised,” Gimli replied, cupping his hand against the curve of Legolas’ cheek and chin. “And I feel sick for not getting to you sooner, my elf, my love.” Gimli’s voice broke and his breathing came in quick gasps, trying hard not to shed tears. He blinked and grunted and sniffed along with Legolas. Then, losing the fight, he opened his arms and lunged forward for an embrace.
But Legolas shrunk back, shaking his head violently. “No, please. It has been days since I moved and… I am not clean.” He looked imploringly, hoping Gimli understood his meaning fully.
“All the more reason,” Gimli said. “Or are you afraid I shall stain your clothing?”
There was Legolas, huddled weakly on the floor of the cave, cut, bruised, scraped and soiled. He was sick with cold and shivery. And there was Gimli, squatting down, drenched and dripping in bright red blood—most of which was not his. They both needed cleaning, but they needed something else more.
Gimli raised his arms and moved forward again. He wrapped them around Legolas and squeezed the elf close for all he was worth. Slowly, Legolas’ body relaxed and, finally, the elf’s arms raised and hugged Gimli back.
“I tried to fight one,” Legolas said, weakly, into Gimli’s shoulder. “I thought I was not doing too terribly but I didn’t see the other until it was too late. And then they… my bow. Oh, Gimli, my bow.” Legolas somehow gestured downward and Gimli suddenly realized that amongst the dirt and pebbles there was more. Gimli pulled back and took a closer look. His heart sank as he recognized the ornately-carved wood and the tiny bits of what had once been fine hair of the Galadhrim.
Gimli swallowed. “I saw your effort. Had one of the trolls not been so badly wounded, I might not have been able to overtake them both.”
Rubbing his cuff at his nose. “I only fired a few arrows into it. How did you manage to take them in the end?”
“Call it instinct,” said Gimli, who had no real way of explaining the madness and rage that had come over him when faced with the creatures who had taken his love. He could not even remember the battle the way he could recall any other battle he had been in. It was a blur of weapons and shows of strength.
“ehh-ihhhh…” Legolas’ eyes closed and his breath hitched. Then he pitched forward. “ehhKTchhuhhh!” He swayed a little, sniffled, and rubbed his hand at his ankles where the bindings had been.
Gimli felt the intense urge to leave. Now. “Can you walk or shall I carry you?”
Legolas was certain he could walk, though he did not move with his usual grace. Together, Gimli and Legolas navigated the tunnels. They spoke sparingly, but said enough for Gimli to agree with the elf in that trolls had taken Legolas because they knew who his father was. It had been years since Olog-hai had been spotted near Mirkwood, but apparently the rumors that a few survived could now be confirmed.
Gimli had left his pack and cloak by the entrance to the caves. They lay there still, not three paces from the body-less arm still holding a massive hammer. Legolas walked past the carnage without acknowledging it and began disrobing.
The elf stepped out of the cave as he shed his leggings. He stood in the pouring rain for a moment, then he lifted his arms. He held them up, outstretched, and let the water wash him clean. The rain came down in sheets, heavy, pounding, with no wind to get in the way. It fell straight down, and the golden elf bathed himself in nature.
Gimli let the rain find him, as well. The blood was so thick on his clothes it appeared like paint. Not all washed off, but a good amount did. He stood in a soggy, muddy puddle tinted with red-pink. His clothes were heavy, stained. His hair was dark and damp. His boots were squishy. And instead of just being wet, the rain was freezing cold. It was like ice pelting him relentlessly. Miserable did not begin to describe him now.
Legolas, however, looked as though this were bliss to him. He practically glowed and glistened. The areas where the restraints had been were scraped and bruised, and he had plenty of other cuts and markings. But Gimli thought he looked simply gorgeous, like a plant basking in the sun and holding its leaves out to help collect its water. The rain seemed to rejuvenate him as much as clean him.
It reminded Gimli of the sight he had seen in Lothlórien, when he and Legolas had felt the beginnings of love. Gimli’s thoughts drifted off at once, as though they were back in that warm pool, under the gentle, cascading waterfalls. Tenderness and intimacy. Adventure and discovery.
But then Legolas snapped forward, then back, then forward again in a graceful pattern of sneezing. “ihhKTchhh! Ehhh…ehhhShoo! hihhKShoo!” He scrubbed the back of his wrist at his nose briefly. “heh-eh-ehh-ehhhhhhh-Hiptchhhh! ihhhShihhh!”
Gimli smiled, realizing that Legolas had been a bit sneezy back then as well. Then Gimli headed over and took his elf by the hand. “Come,” he requested, and Legolas sniffled but nodded.
At the mouth of the cave, Legolas doubled over with a few congested coughs and a fresh series of sneezes. “hih-IHShoo! Ehhh-KEHTChoo!” He dropped down to his knees, as though folding in on himself. “ihhh… ihhhhhh… ihShihhh!” And in addition to sneezing, he began shivering.
Gimli walked over and draped his cloak over Legolas’ shoulders. As Legolas was kneeling, the thick cloak flowed down from his shoulders to the ground, covering him completely as it would not have down had he been standing. Legolas’ shivers slowed but his sneezes did not follow suit. “ihhhh-hihhhh-hihshhhh! Huhhh-h’Shihhh!” He did not open his eyes in-between each sneeze, simply swayed back and forth with each uncontrollable sneeze. “ehh-IHChuhh! Ihhhh…ihhhIHShihhh!” His nose and ears both twitched and his mouth remained half open, awaiting the next. “ihhhhhhhh… ihhh… ehhhh… EH-Hshffffff!”
Legolas opened his eyes to find Gimli standing before him, a handkerchief in hand, pressed to Legolas’ face. Legolas caught Gimli’s sympathetic eyes, then blew his nose until the tickle in his nose had died down. Smiling and practically blushing, Legolas then looked away. “I am pathetic. I cannot imagine why you fought so hard to come to my rescue.”
Gimli snorted and clenched his teeth. “Elf, I would have no reason to fight or even live without you by my side.” He pressed his hand to Legolas’ cheek. “And after this, I will not be letting you out of my sight ever again.”
Laughing, Legolas snuggled into Gimli, who hugged him through the cloak. His body was sore and the squeeze fell at just the wrong spot. But Gimli’s touch was worth slight discomfort. Silly as Gimli’s statement was, Legolas could not help but want it to be true. “And if some day I decide I must sail out into the West? What then?”
With a shrug, “I suppose I will just have to go along with you.” He grinned. “I will fight anyone who tries to stop me. After taking down two fierce trolls, a whole band of elves should be no problem singlehanded.”
Legolas coughed to clear his throat and closed his eyes. “Should that come to pass, my love, I am certain you will not fight alone.”
Title: Currently Untitled
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Rating: PG-13
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, Mistakes
Certainty
Gimli wished for Aragorn’s talents as a tracker. And he wished for Legolas’ heightened senses. All he had right now was a stitch in his side, a fire in his chest, and a rage that could not be contained. He should have been at home in these caves. He should have been able to find his way through the maze. He should have been able to get to Legolas more quickly.
There were shooting pains in his arms from the intensity of the fight with the Olog-hai. He could barely keep his axe up at the ready in both hands as he ran through the cavernous underground tunnels. Legolas was here somewhere, hidden away, hopefully bound and not… not dead. Gimli fought back a wave of nausea and groaned as he approached an intersection. He slammed against the side of a cold, damp cave wall to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he listened to his ragged breathing and thumping heart. He had neither tracking skills nor heightened senses, but he had something better. Something deep down in his stomach told him Legolas lay to the right. So Gimli’s feet moved in that direction before he even made a conscious effort to push off the wall and sprint onward.
Though the dwarf did not usually run, Legolas recognized the footsteps immediately. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Gimli in silhouette, standing at the end of the tunnel. He tried to call out, but loud breathing was all he could manage.
At first, Gimli did not see him. His heart sank to find yet another dead end. But then he caught sight of a pair of shiny eyes, staring out from the darkness like a frightened wild animal. Gimli nearly passed out with relief. He looked around to be sure they were alone, then he charged forward. He raised his axe along the way. The second he got to the elf, he lowered the blade and cut clean through the bindings holding Legolas’ ankles to the ground. Then came a similar slice at his thighs and another at his waist. Each cut was strong but stopped just short of clothing and skin. The precise cuts set Legolas’ lower body free.
Legolas looked up, beyond grateful. Then he turned his head and sneezed viciously into his shoulder. His hands were bound behind his back. He sniffled and rubbed his nose into whatever part of his shoulder and upper arm he could reach, which wasn’t much. Gimli ached with sympathy. “We need to get outside,” he told Legolas. “I killed two but there could be others.”
Legolas shook his head. “Only two,” he whispered. Even his whisper had a dry, croaking sound to it. Gimli cut the bonds at the elf’s wrists. Legolas moved with the slow, deliberate action of one who has not moved for days as he brought his arms out from behind his back. The first thing he did was to rub his nose. “Knew you would come.” He sniffed again, miserably. “Sick.”
“Hardly surprised,” Gimli replied, cupping his hand against the curve of Legolas’ cheek and chin. “And I feel sick for not getting to you sooner, my elf, my love.” Gimli’s voice broke and his breathing came in quick gasps, trying hard not to shed tears. He blinked and grunted and sniffed along with Legolas. Then, losing the fight, he opened his arms and lunged forward for an embrace.
But Legolas shrunk back, shaking his head violently. “No, please. It has been days since I moved and… I am not clean.” He looked imploringly, hoping Gimli understood his meaning fully.
“All the more reason,” Gimli said. “Or are you afraid I shall stain your clothing?”
There was Legolas, huddled weakly on the floor of the cave, cut, bruised, scraped and soiled. He was sick with cold and shivery. And there was Gimli, squatting down, drenched and dripping in bright red blood—most of which was not his. They both needed cleaning, but they needed something else more.
Gimli raised his arms and moved forward again. He wrapped them around Legolas and squeezed the elf close for all he was worth. Slowly, Legolas’ body relaxed and, finally, the elf’s arms raised and hugged Gimli back.
“I tried to fight one,” Legolas said, weakly, into Gimli’s shoulder. “I thought I was not doing too terribly but I didn’t see the other until it was too late. And then they… my bow. Oh, Gimli, my bow.” Legolas somehow gestured downward and Gimli suddenly realized that amongst the dirt and pebbles there was more. Gimli pulled back and took a closer look. His heart sank as he recognized the ornately-carved wood and the tiny bits of what had once been fine hair of the Galadhrim.
Gimli swallowed. “I saw your effort. Had one of the trolls not been so badly wounded, I might not have been able to overtake them both.”
Rubbing his cuff at his nose. “I only fired a few arrows into it. How did you manage to take them in the end?”
“Call it instinct,” said Gimli, who had no real way of explaining the madness and rage that had come over him when faced with the creatures who had taken his love. He could not even remember the battle the way he could recall any other battle he had been in. It was a blur of weapons and shows of strength.
“ehh-ihhhh…” Legolas’ eyes closed and his breath hitched. Then he pitched forward. “ehhKTchhuhhh!” He swayed a little, sniffled, and rubbed his hand at his ankles where the bindings had been.
Gimli felt the intense urge to leave. Now. “Can you walk or shall I carry you?”
Legolas was certain he could walk, though he did not move with his usual grace. Together, Gimli and Legolas navigated the tunnels. They spoke sparingly, but said enough for Gimli to agree with the elf in that trolls had taken Legolas because they knew who his father was. It had been years since Olog-hai had been spotted near Mirkwood, but apparently the rumors that a few survived could now be confirmed.
Gimli had left his pack and cloak by the entrance to the caves. They lay there still, not three paces from the body-less arm still holding a massive hammer. Legolas walked past the carnage without acknowledging it and began disrobing.
The elf stepped out of the cave as he shed his leggings. He stood in the pouring rain for a moment, then he lifted his arms. He held them up, outstretched, and let the water wash him clean. The rain came down in sheets, heavy, pounding, with no wind to get in the way. It fell straight down, and the golden elf bathed himself in nature.
Gimli let the rain find him, as well. The blood was so thick on his clothes it appeared like paint. Not all washed off, but a good amount did. He stood in a soggy, muddy puddle tinted with red-pink. His clothes were heavy, stained. His hair was dark and damp. His boots were squishy. And instead of just being wet, the rain was freezing cold. It was like ice pelting him relentlessly. Miserable did not begin to describe him now.
Legolas, however, looked as though this were bliss to him. He practically glowed and glistened. The areas where the restraints had been were scraped and bruised, and he had plenty of other cuts and markings. But Gimli thought he looked simply gorgeous, like a plant basking in the sun and holding its leaves out to help collect its water. The rain seemed to rejuvenate him as much as clean him.
It reminded Gimli of the sight he had seen in Lothlórien, when he and Legolas had felt the beginnings of love. Gimli’s thoughts drifted off at once, as though they were back in that warm pool, under the gentle, cascading waterfalls. Tenderness and intimacy. Adventure and discovery.
But then Legolas snapped forward, then back, then forward again in a graceful pattern of sneezing. “ihhKTchhh! Ehhh…ehhhShoo! hihhKShoo!” He scrubbed the back of his wrist at his nose briefly. “heh-eh-ehh-ehhhhhhh-Hiptchhhh! ihhhShihhh!”
Gimli smiled, realizing that Legolas had been a bit sneezy back then as well. Then Gimli headed over and took his elf by the hand. “Come,” he requested, and Legolas sniffled but nodded.
At the mouth of the cave, Legolas doubled over with a few congested coughs and a fresh series of sneezes. “hih-IHShoo! Ehhh-KEHTChoo!” He dropped down to his knees, as though folding in on himself. “ihhh… ihhhhhh… ihShihhh!” And in addition to sneezing, he began shivering.
Gimli walked over and draped his cloak over Legolas’ shoulders. As Legolas was kneeling, the thick cloak flowed down from his shoulders to the ground, covering him completely as it would not have down had he been standing. Legolas’ shivers slowed but his sneezes did not follow suit. “ihhhh-hihhhh-hihshhhh! Huhhh-h’Shihhh!” He did not open his eyes in-between each sneeze, simply swayed back and forth with each uncontrollable sneeze. “ehh-IHChuhh! Ihhhh…ihhhIHShihhh!” His nose and ears both twitched and his mouth remained half open, awaiting the next. “ihhhhhhhh… ihhh… ehhhh… EH-Hshffffff!”
Legolas opened his eyes to find Gimli standing before him, a handkerchief in hand, pressed to Legolas’ face. Legolas caught Gimli’s sympathetic eyes, then blew his nose until the tickle in his nose had died down. Smiling and practically blushing, Legolas then looked away. “I am pathetic. I cannot imagine why you fought so hard to come to my rescue.”
Gimli snorted and clenched his teeth. “Elf, I would have no reason to fight or even live without you by my side.” He pressed his hand to Legolas’ cheek. “And after this, I will not be letting you out of my sight ever again.”
Laughing, Legolas snuggled into Gimli, who hugged him through the cloak. His body was sore and the squeeze fell at just the wrong spot. But Gimli’s touch was worth slight discomfort. Silly as Gimli’s statement was, Legolas could not help but want it to be true. “And if some day I decide I must sail out into the West? What then?”
With a shrug, “I suppose I will just have to go along with you.” He grinned. “I will fight anyone who tries to stop me. After taking down two fierce trolls, a whole band of elves should be no problem singlehanded.”
Legolas coughed to clear his throat and closed his eyes. “Should that come to pass, my love, I am certain you will not fight alone.”
no subject
Date: 2008-10-11 10:58 am (UTC)Poor Legolas, hurt and ill and tied up in the dark. And losing his beloved, irreplaceable bow! *huggles the elf*
And later, in the rain...that was just breathtaking! Don't laugh, but in a way, it kinda reminded me of the part in V for Vendetta when Evie stands on the roof in a downpour and releases all her angst about being imprisoned and suffering so long. Only Legolas is much, much prettier, LOL!
Loved the end, when Gimli covers him with the cloak and takes care of him. Yeah, excellent job pressing my h/c buttons there! Thanks so much!