12. Of This Moment
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.)
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.