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Axe and Bow

A Legolas and Gimli fan archive

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The Stitch

by Kandadze

Category: POV
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JRR Tolkien. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
Feedback: Yes, please!
Summary: Gimli learns to care for a certain elf
A/N:
I allowed myself to wound one more Fellowship member in Moria *g*
Kudos to zasjah, for beta and more ^_^




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We live close to the ground and down to earth we are, too.
We're proud of the fact that we differ so much from the others, especially Elves - they're the trees, pressing us even more to the ground, while they reach for the sky. Hmpf. NO decent dwarf would want to have anything to do with an elf... or that's what the elders would say.

Yet there I was, a member of the Fellowship of the Ring, with halflings, men, a wizard and an elf, who made me think of a silvery birch, just as tall and cold.
However, it was not HALF as unnerving as I thought it would be - Legolas avoided me carefully and we had our hands full, anyway.
Only sometimes I would catch him smiling at me with an inscrutable look in those glinting sapphires the others called his eyes.
Only sometimes I would catch myself staring at him, all silver and gold.

Journeys such as ours bring their participants together. Pain and sorrow even more so. It couldn't change the way I felt - battered, shattered - when we arrived in Lorien, though.
But there she was - so beautiful and understanding it was almost too painful to bear. When she touched my heart I felt as in the middle of the hurly-burly of our forges, only this time I had no idea what I was supposed to create.
"You'll know, when the time is right..."

Was it her voice? For a moment I thought I'd seen someone else's features in hers, so maddeningly familiar, and yet I couldn't recognise them. I shook my head as if the movement could shatter the vision. Pull yourself together, Gimli.

I roamed around the camp looking for something to occupy my mind and was granted with a pile of our washed clothes. Legolas' tunic lay on the very top and I could not fail to see a large cut across the back of it. It wasn't there before we entered Moria, I'm sure. Was I so grief-struck after leaving those doomed mines that I didn't even notice he got WOUNDED?
Ignoring the stares I snatched the garment and a needle from the nearest elf and fled.
I'm not very good at sewing and the fact that my hands started trembling didn't help much, but when I finished, skewed and haphazard as it was, I felt relieved.
Legolas didn't seem to notice.

After we left Lorien everything happened so fast, as if to make up for lost time, and suddenly there were only three of us - Aragorn, Legolas and me - chasing the orcs at top speed. We didn't talk much and I couldn't escape from my own thoughts anymore.
I was thinking about him.
How saving each other's lives became a habit of ours. How our weapons harmonized with each other in our battles. How he payed attention when I voiced my opinions. How - I realised just recently - he would deliver me from horror, fear and doubt just by saying something so VERY Elvish, that in my irritation I would forget everything else.

And I was thinking how I'd grown accustomed to his presence, to the conviction that wherever I'd go, he'd be there, silver and gold, smiling at me.
Hmpf. I agree with the elders on this - no dwarf should be allowed to think so much, as nothing useful could possibly come of this.

***

I tried to sleep. I really did... But no matter how exhausted I was after yet another day of following Aragorn's indefatigable footsteps, I just couldn't bring myself to let Legolas out of my sight. Finally giving up, I sat up abruptly.
"What is it, my friend?"

My friend. I growled at both the words and myself. Don't be greedy, Gimli, he has already given you something very precious... If you do not want to lose it, if you do not want to see him turning away, revolted, you'd better keep the words burning you from the inside to yourself.

He laid his hand on my forehead, smoothing my creased eyebrows. Hundreds of thoughts pounded suddenly on my head like hammers, only one of them clear: voluntarily and deliberately, he was touching me...
"Have you been thinking about the future, my friend? If the war was over and we were alive... would you settle down with some nice dwarf woman? Surely there are many who think you would make a perfect husband."

I couldn't stop the angry noise escaping my throat as I batted his hand away. No dwarf woman could have this effect on me, to say nothing of the fact that not one EVER tried to tease me this way.
"Or would you seek your soul mate elsewhere?"

His face grew serious. All I could do was to stare in his eyes, as if finally discovering a hidden tunnel full of treasures in a long forgotten mine.
Laughing softly, he turned a bit, so I could see the stitch I made on his tunic.
"See, Gimli? I did notice. No elf would describe our bond better than you did, with this."

I couldn't breathe, as the hammers began pounding even stronger. I felt I could tell him everything now. But first I listened to him, and every word was a gem.
"It may not be beautiful, but it is strong. It may not be perfect, but it will last. For some it may be strange, but I certainly do not care..."

With my hands full of silver and gold I could only think... neither do I.



the end


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