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When You Are With Me: 12. Of This Moment

His perception gradually returned and he left behind the last vestiges of
the dark sleep which had claimed him. As he grew accustomed to the light
of the warm little room, he sight fell upon the figure sitting with his
back turned to him, his head bent low.

Suffering because of him.

He rose and softly padded to his side, circled, then knelt before him.
With a trembling hand he made to touch him, to draw the dwarf to him, but
he could not bring himself to do so. He crouched for a long while,
sorrowing over the careworn face, the weary slope of the dwarf's shoulders,
the dark shadows beneath his eyes. Gimli did not acknowledge him. He
remained motionless in the unraveling silence. The elf closed his eyes
tightly and his heart quietly broke. Without a sound, he pillowed his head
in his arms and laid it upon the dwarf's lap.

The Maker created the dwarves to be so strong that they might endure the
evils of the world; they are stone-hard and stubborn to a fault, staunch
and unswerving in oath or deed, hardiest of all races and full of pride.
Gloin's son, seasoned fighter, grim warrior and steadfast Dwarf of the
Kingdom under the Mountain, as proud a dwarf as ever walked the halls of
Erebor, watched Legolas kneel before him and felt the elf lay his head
against him in supplication, and Gimli wept unashamedly. He lifted a hand
and stroked the long hair that spilled over him in ebony waves, the silken
softness sliding between his coarse fingers.

Gimli sighed and roused himself. "You will be the life or the death of me,
my dearest friend," he finally said brusquely, and he laughed through his
tears.

Legolas raised himself and looked at Gimli, his face pale and indefinable
and filled with quiet intensity. But he was Legolas once more, untainted;
the heaviness had been lifted from him. The elf drew himself level with
the dwarf, then placed a hand upon each side of Gimli's face and brought
him forward to capture him with a deepest kiss. Gimli gathered him into a
rough embrace and his lips sought the elf's until the lack of air made them
weak and they broke from the caress, panting.

"For this brief moment, we are real," Legolas said softly. "We are here."
He stood and drew Gimli up from his chair. "Be with me."

Gimli followed him away from the fire and from the room to one of the
smaller chambers that once served as sleeping quarters. Gimli sat upon the
simple, low bed and watched the elf light a candle in the sconce fastened
upon one of the walls.

Legolas turned, his elegant eyes pools of beautiful depth, seeking Gimli's
face as if he were assuring himself that the dwarf was still there. So
much had happened in such a short of time, he did not quite yet trust his
senses.
But Gimli was with him; his presence was so solid and so strong, an
unchanging constant Legolas could depend upon though mountains fall or seas
be sundered. The elf marvelled at the sheer brawn of him, the power that
lit Gimli's dark eyes, and the desire with which he looked at the elf made
Legolas's breath catch in his throat.

The elf crept near him and slid nimble fingers along the dwarf's stout
chest, unfastening his shirt with slow haste, peeling back the layers of
cloth until he was able to run his hands along his lover's side and up his
broadly muscled back. Gimli held him and nuzzled at the elf's ivory neck,
remembering swift caresses and heights of ecstasy nights ago. The elf felt
so alive now, so strong. Gimli thirsted for that bright essence, hungered
for the light in his lover's visage; he would possess that immortality, if
even only for a fraction of time. Eternity was here and now.

Legolas pulled himself from the dwarf's arms and rose, never taking his
eyes from Gimli's face. He straightened and smoothly shed his clothing
until he stood bare in the dim candlelight. The lithe curve of the elf's
body was perfection. Gimli shrugged off his shirt and motioned for Legolas
to come near. The elf shook his head with a smile. "It is chill in here,
love, away from hearth and fire. I will return with something to warm us."

Gimli could think of a few things that would serve to stave off the
coolness in the air, but the elf had glided from the room. He returned
before long with a snug grey blanket cast about his shoulders and a
plundered bottle of wine from the store rooms.

"It seems our young hobbit companions did not altogether deplete the
stock," Legolas murmured gleefully. He swept to the bed and leapt upon it
lightly. He hurled the coverlet over the two of them and huddled close to
Gimli's compact form. He took a long draught from the bottle, then held it
out to the dwarf. Gimli normally preferred stronger drink but he swallowed
a mouthful and let the sweet liquor pour down the back of his throat.
Legolas kissed him, tasting the wine that lingered upon his tongue.

"Gimli, you cannot begin to know... how much...."

Gimli growled deeply and pulled the elf closer to him, flesh touching warm
flesh. Legolas traced the dark woven hair from the dwarf's cheek, past his
beard, then tangled his fingers in the thick hair at Gimli's chest. "I had
no need to go searching for a blanket," the elf teased. Gimli nipped
irritably at a tipped elvish ear, and Legolas laughed merrily. Then the
elf pressed him back to lie upon the bed. Kneeling beside the dwarf,
Legolas traced light, tickling patterns over his torso, tugging gently at
the coarse brown curls upon his breast. He reached for the flask in
Gimli's hand and took another sip of the wine, then he brought the bottle
low and slowly trickled a little upon the flat of the dwarf's stomach.
With a mischievous glint in his eye, the elf bent and ran his tongue over
Gimli's skin to catch the liquid.

Gimli shivered and groaned with pleasure. Pleased to no end by his
reaction, Legolas tipped the bottle and let a few drops fall upon the
dwarf's forearm, then repeated the gesture, kissing and licking over
Gimli's arm and wrist, up to his shoulder, then back down along his firm
chest to midsection, then his solid hips. Gimli rose upon sturdy arms and
sat up, and forcefully snatched the wine from the elf. He drank deeply,
then poured a small amount along Legolas's bare collarbone, letting it drip
down the core of the elf's body in a lingering, pinkish trail, and he
following it with his lips.

The bottle was soon much lighter, and the two were sticky and glistening
with wine and desire. Their touching becoming more urgent, their voices
more passionate. Gimli attempted to wrest control from the elf with
dwarvish impatience, but Legolas was having none of it. The elf pushed
Gimli steadfastly back to the bed once more, and leaned above him. The
dwarf's arousal was evident, and Legolas caught up the hard shaft with a
firm hand and brought it to its fullest length. He emptied the last of the
wine over Gimli's thigh and stroked the dwarf's sleek, throbbing member.
Gimli's hand roved over his back, feverishly kneading at his flesh, and
Legolas tipped his head to look down at him with a tempting smile.

"To feel... to live," the elf said quietly, and his expression was suddenly
very serious, very thoughtful. He kissed Gimli chastely and fixed his
steady green eyes upon him. "I am no dwarf, Gimli, but I hope I will
serve."

Legolas raised himself up and threw the blanket back over his shoulders,
draping them both beneath the grey folds, hovering over the dwarf like a
beautiful bird of prey. The elf straddled him lightly, then took a long,
deep breath and sank back down onto Gimli with incredible slowness. Gimli
moaned and closed his eyes. Legolas took him fully inside without uttering
a sound. He carefully paused and exhaled, and allowed himself a few
moments to become accustomed to his lover's girth.

Gimli let the feeling of being within Legolas overcome him, the tightness
of him thrilling through the dwarf, and he clenched his teeth in disbelief.
Gimli looked worriedly up at the elf, but there was no pain upon the fair
face, merely a deep concentration and a tenseness. Gimli gripped his waist
with strong hands and supported him tenderly. Legolas swallowed and
hesitated, then finally relaxed and drew the blanket down around them both.
He smiled tremulously at Gimli, then stirred, drawing an intense groan
from his lover. They faltered at first, uncertain, then began to learn one
other's rhythm, and how to move as would give them both pleasure. Legolas
gracefully controlled his rising and falling, never taking his eyes from
Gimli's. They became acquainted with the pliancy of flesh, the strength of
muscle, the nuances of their bodies, unlike and yet so similar.

In too short a time, the dwarf's breathing began to grow rapid and harsh,
and his thrusts deeper and stronger. The green eyes gazing into his
shimmered with desire, and Gimli knew he would not last for much longer.
It was unbearable. Their emotions ran too high and their need was much too
great. He felt the elf's shaft hard against him and he grasped for it,
wishing to drive Legolas beyond control even as he lost his. The elf's
head snapped back and he gave a strangled cry and tightened at the touch of
his hand. Gimli could no longer hold back. With a deep-throated moan, he
thrust once... and again... and again, and Legolas felt his lover's steel
expand, then become molten within him. Legolas arched and gasped at the
sensation, and he trembled as he met his own wrenching release.

They collapsed together beneath the blanket, limbs quaking and breath
mingling, whispering fervent vows. Legolas slid from Gimli to lie close by
his side. Gimli threw a strong, protective arm over the elf, touching the
softness at his throat, feeling the cherished heartbeat begin to slow.


"Either by chance or design," Gimli said after a breathless moment, "our
dalliances seem to take place in abandoned guard houses."

Legolas's sparkling laughter filled the room. He clasped the hand that lay
over him and caressed it.

"Legolas?" Gimli murmured, "....Don't ever do that again."

Legolas turned to Gimli with a hurt expression.

Gimli gave him a withering look. "Nay, fool of an Elf," he said. "Not
that. Do not let me lose you ever again. I could not bear it. What is
the good of giving my heart to an elf if he does not have the sense to
behave as the rest of his annoying kindred and remain oblivious to the
weaknesses and dangers us mere mortals face? Don't ever leave me like that
again or I will not forgive you."

"Never will I," Legolas said softly.

------------------------------------


(Me: A few changes in chapter endings, etc. THANK you all for your
intelligent reviews! I appreciate them. A few things before I move on...
*GET ON WITH IT!* .... I'm getting there, I'm getting there!
My touch of elvish is indeed as authentic as I can make it. Comb through
the books such as the Silmarillion or any of C. Tolkien's histories, and
you'll find my sources. Or, cheat and look up a good Sindarin-English
dictionary on the web. That works as well. Or find an elf to help you
out. Ha! If you find one, let me know where you snagged him. I want one
too. I'd rather not provide you with translations, as it prevents those of
you who have never picked up the Silmarillion to perhaps do so, or delve
into the LOTR a little deeper. I won't deprive you of that.
The very VERY brief touch of dwarvish I used is also authentic.

And if it helps those of you shyer readers, I was about 7 years old when I
"met" Legolas and Gimli, and blush a bit as well looking through these
keyholes. LOL! But Legolas and Gimli each have a towering sense of
confidence and I don't think they really mind, honestly. Sex is just a
part of life, and at its best, is an expression of love. This is love.
Casual sex doesn't belong in Tolkien.)

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Last Update: 09 Sep 06
Stories: 44
Type: Reader List
Created By: Mar'isu


Legolas and Gimli. Acting, reacting, interacting.

Why This Story?

Slash of the hurt/comfort variety. Well written and really sucks you in.

 

Story Information

Author: Nimue

Status: Reviewed

Completion: Complete

Era: 3rd Age - Ring War

Genre: Action

Rating: Adult

Last Updated: 05/20/03

Original Post: 07/17/02

Go to When You Are With Me overview