Work Text:
A Simple Gesture.
It was a perfect day in Minas Tirith. The war was over, the city was once again alive with the sound of children playing, and a new delivery of pipeweed had arrived that morning. Gimli took a long draw on his pipe and relaxed into the armchair he had pulled out onto the patio. He watched as Legolas carefully tended to the herbs growing in pots about the garden. Some distance away a stream flowed down from the mountain and the hobbits were swimming in the cool water. Life was good.
He was startled from his reverie when the door behind him opened to reveal the lady Arwen. She smiled as she watched her new husband join the hobbits in the water, before heading in the direction of Legolas. Gimli half listened as she made some enquiry about the proper care of Thyme, but not being much interested in such matters he turned his attention back to his pipe. Unfortunately he did not do so quickly enough to miss what she did next.
Arwen kissed Legolas. Gimli dropped his pipe. His head spun in the direction of Aragorn. Aragorn wasn't watching. Nobody had seen except him. He turned back to the pair who were once again discussing gardening. Maybe it had been his imagination. That had definitely not happened. Arwen stood up and turned back towards the house, a sprig of rosemary in her hand, probably for the kitchen. Legolas turned to him and Gimli tried to suppress his anger.
“My dear dwarf, you look as though you have seen a ghost.”
“I wish I could believe that was all it was.”
“Nay, it cannot be, for I have seen you face ghosts, and yet I have never before seen your face this white. What troubles you?”
“You know what I have seen, and I will not hear you make a joke of it.” He looked up into a pair of grey eyes, but found he could not hold them. “Why?”
Legolas looked confused, and then he laughed. “Sometimes I forget how little you know of the ways of elves my friend. There is no need to worry, Aragorn was raised in Rivendell, he will not find it strange.”
“Strange!” Choked Gimli. “That would not be the word I would choose for what you have done.”
“What I have... Gimli! It was a mere gesture of affection between friends, such things are normal for my people.”
“I have never seen you do such a thing before.”
“When since our travels began have I met a friend of my own race? Aragorn greeted me in such a way back in Rivendell, an event which did not go unnoticed by Boromir and the younger hobbits. Their reaction was such that we agreed not to repeat the gesture for the remainder of the journey.” Legolas smiled as he remembered Pippin coughing on a bite of apple and Merry desperately trying to prevent him from choking as he struggled to stifle his own laughter.
“You have kissed Aragorn?” As Gimli said it he could not believe the words coming out of his own mouth.
“Several times.”
Gimli could only stare at him dumbfounded for a moment until, “It's not right!” He shouted, becoming angry again. “That's for husbands and wives, not for friends, not for us!”
Legolas sat down on the bench gently. “I am sorry for offending you. I hope you will take my word that I mean no harm to the King and Queen of Gondor or their marriage.” He paused for a moment as the anger in Gimli's eyes faded at his words. “From your reaction am I to understand that this act has a different meaning to the dwarves?”
Gimli returned to the bench and sat beside him. For a few moments he stared at his boots, swinging as they did an inch from the ground. “It does. Since travelling with the company I have come to realise that Dwarven culture is very different to most.” He looked up to where the hobbits were bathing in the stream. “Take the hobbits. They swim openly in the garden wearing nought but the skin they were born in without an ounce of shame. And now Aragorn joins them! These are not the actions of a dwarven king. Propriety, honour, and respect are everything in our society. No dwarf would kiss another in public, even if they were married.”
“What actions are then permitted if one wishes to show affection towards another? How do dwarves greet their family?” Legolas sounded genuinely curious.
Gimli laughed. “I would show you if I thought your pretty head would survive the experience.”
“In that case I will let it pass, although I must assert that my 'pretty head' could take whatever you may wish to throw at it.” He ducked as Gimli reached for the cushion behind him and threw it at the elf's head. “Now that was hardly very 'proper' behaviour master dwarf!” His eyes sparkled. Then something much harder than a cushion collided with his forehead.
Gimli pulled back with a grin on his face as Legolas rubbed his brow. “A dwarvern gesture of affection, as requested.”
“I think I prefer the elvish way.” Said Legolas, still blinking.
Gimli laughed. “An elf you will always be Legolas, no matter how much time we may spend together. Sometimes I forget how different the worlds we come from truly are. And when I remember I find it all the more amazing that I can call you friend.”
“And I you. But I believe our worlds are not so different as you fear. Or at least, that they do not need to be. You have shown me something of your world and I would show you something of mine.” Gimli sat back warily and Legolas laughed. “I will do nothing which would make you uncomfortable my friend. I will save the kisses for Aragorn.” He reached down to the flowerbed beside the window and carefully picked a golden flower with a long stem. “Elves love to give gifts but here in Minas Tirith I have little to call my own save what I have made, or in this case grown.” He took the flower and gently weaved the stem into one of the many thick braids adorning Gimli's head. “There, a true elf of Mirkwood.”
“I am not sure whether to feel honoured or insulted.”
“Maybe a little of both, as it must always be between us.”
“Nay, an insult is not such if it is meant in jest, I am truly honoured by your gift.”
“I am glad.”
The silence that followed was interrupted by a shout as Pippin splashed so much water into Frodo's face that the latter came up coughing and spluttering.
“The ways of other races are strange to me also.” Said Legolas. “And yet not so much as they once were.”
“It is true, I no longer notice many of the things I once did. The things you can see, the things you can get used to, they are not the problem.” He smiled as he looked up at Legolas. The he reached down and picked a second flower from the bed. “It's the small things that you just don't see coming.” He reached up and tucked the flower into Legolas's golden braids. “Those are the things that catch you.”
That evening the fellowship enjoyed another fine meal courtesy of the best chefs in Minas Tirith. As always Legolas and Gimli sat side by side, but although none of their company could put a finger on it, something was different. Arwen was the first to notice the flowers and she smiled as she turned to her husband and whispered, “I told you it would work.”