Good Things Often Come in Small Packages

By Linda C.

Fandom: LOTR

Rating: NC17

Pairing: Legolas/Gimli

Warnings: m/m, Mpreg in Part II.

Spoilers: The Two Towers

Archive: Yes. WWOMB, Mpreg archive.

Also can be found at: http://www.greatestjournal.com/users/dragokatzof10/5006.html

Distribution: you want it, take it but give me credit

Series: Part II will be delving into Mpreg, be warned.

AN1: I found a weird little site that puts a "Queer Perspective" on modern movies/television and one of the pairings in LOTR, besides the usual Aragorn/Legolas and Frodo/Sam was Legolas/Gimli. Thought I would try out a little fic.

AN2: Elvish phrases are translated at the end in the order in which they appeared in the fic.

I again want to recommend: http://www.grey-company.org/Circle/language/phrase.htm, the most comprehensive list of phrases I found anywhere on the Web.

Summary: Two friends come together after the battle and discover Love is where you find it.


Good Things Often Come in Small Packages
By Linda C.
======

Gimli walked down the dark hallway, carefully carrying a tray of mead and hot food. The battle was finally over, time to bury their dead and recoup. And time to rest weary bones and patch up broken bodies. Aragorn was with Eomer, checking on the wounded and gathering together the bodies of the Elves slain defending Helm's Gate. One of Aragorn's best Elvin friends, Haldir, had succumbed to a Uruk-hai's savage axe blow. Gimli opened the door of the chamber he had been assigned, along with his best friend, Legolas. He stopped in the doorway, gazing into the chamber, eyes adjusting to the brighter light of the large fireplace blazing away. His eyes were drawn to the large fur rug in front of the hearth. A spill of blond hair caught the light, and his breath. His legs were unsteady as he pushed the door shut with his foot, walking over to place the tray on the low table by the fire.

A large ewer and bowl sat on the floor, wet cloths draped over the hot stones of the hearth to dry. Earth toned clothing was scattered on the floor, some spots still wet with Orc blood - and Elvin. Mouth dry, Gimli moved closer, breath catching in his throat as he stared at his friend. Bare skin glowing in the firelight, light blanket half-covering the body that had dislodged it during sleep. Blond hair lay in disarray, one hand caught in it, the other over the deceptively slender, muscled chest. A small golden ring glinted in the pierced left nipple, a small tattoo on the exposed hip drawing his eye. Ah, Legolas' Clan Sigil.

"Legalos, wake up little one." Gimli lightly tapped the bare shoulder, feeling it twitch. "Legolas, I have food and mead. Wake up." One cerulean eye opened, soft smile spreading over the finely boned face as the Elf woke up slowly. Arms upstretched, yawn widening the pink-lipped mouth, other eye slitting open as the fire's glare caught it. "I have food, young one, sit up and let us eat and gather our strength once more. And why do you smile, Elf?" The lithe body slowly sat up, blanket falling to gather around bare hips, the pale belly taut as Legolas again stretched.

"You are well aware that I am many years older than you, my friend. Why do you persist in this 'young one' nonsense?" It was said with a smile, an old jest between newer friends. The bond between them had grown in leaps and bounds, the time together short but fulfilling to both men. "Because I look young enough to be your son? Is that it?" Gimli muttered under his breath, tossing aside his cloak to sit cross-legged beside the nude elf. "What did you say, Master Dwarf? Gimli?"

"I said I don't look upon you as a father would look upon his son. Now hush and eat. Young one." Legolas tossed his hair over his shoulders, taking up spoon and bowl, sipping mead from the tankard to wash down the bread and stew. They ate in silence, the occasional glance between them. Gimli finished first, lighting up a pipe for himself, gesturing to Legolas as he held up a second. The Elf drank his last draught and took the offered pipe, Gimli using a rush to light it for him. They both leaned back on elbows, enjoying full bellies and a good smoke. It had been too long on the run, too many battles, too many deaths.

"Tell me, Master Dwarf, what you meant by your meaning. How do you look upon me? A friend, I hope." Legolas leaned forward, hand clasping the smaller man's forearm, thick and strong. "Someone that has stood by you, fought with you, laughed with you on those few occasions. Tell, Gimli."

Gimli harrumphed and grunted, puffing on his pipe. "Nothing, I meant nothing. You are not my son, that is all. Now come over here and let me fix that snarled mess that you call hair, elfling." A wide grin and Legolas slid over, blanket falling off, revealing his golden skin in its entirety. He settled in front of Gimli, back to him, flipping his mane back off his face and neck. He had washed it when he bathed and let it dry by itself, resulting in tangles and knots. He gasped as Gimli brushed it, tears coming to his eyes as the snags were carefully picked out by hand, Gimli's blunt fingers having a hard time of it. "There, all smooth. Give me your two clasps and I will get it out of your face." Taking the onyx hair brooches in hand, he quickly braided the side sections, clipping them back in the customary style of the Elf, pulling the middle section straight back and tying it off with a thin piece of leather left on top of the clothes.

"Thank you Gimli. It feels good to have someone take care of me. May I offer my services to you as handmaiden? I see you have also washed yourself. I can braid your hair for you if you wish it." Legolas lifted the heavy mass of red hair in one hand, the other gesturing toward the long beard.

"If you wish. It feels so good to be clean. Let me turn for you." Gimli started to relax as he could finally take his eyes away from the golden body so casually displayed. Elves were not a shy lot and felt no shame of their bodies. Gimli knew what he looked like bare and had no intention of ever showing his hirsute body anywhere near his beautiful friend. He cleared his throat, trying to bring his libido under control.

He almost fell asleep as the easy motions of the brush calmed him, the thin Elvin fingers stroking through the thick hair, massaging as they brushed, light touches to his temples relieving pressure. He was leaning back against the smooth-skinned chest, totally relaxed, when the soft voice of his friend whispered in his ear. "How do you see me, Gimli, I ask of you once more? And I want a truthful answer this time. No lies between us, my friend, not after all we have endured." An arm went around his waist, Legolas tightening his grip, not letting him rise as he struggled to get away. A hand brushed against a warm thigh, surprised to find dampness on it. Gimli risked a look downward, eyes wide as they saw an erect sex, nestled in a thatch of blond curls. He looked up into cerulean eyes and was lost.

"I cannot look upon you as I wish. I am an old man, a short, ugly Dwarf that would be beyond his station to ever think he could have a being as beautiful as yourself. Are you content now? Let me go, I have shamed myself enough. I will find another chamber to sleep tonight." The arms did not let him go, only held him closer.

"I do not want you to leave me. Stay, be with me tonight. We have no shame between us, only mutual understanding. You want me, I want you. You have been a steadfast comrade, a splendid warrior protecting my back, a gallant and brave protector of the little ones. Cormlle naa tanya tel'raa. We are much alike, Gimli. We fight for what we believe in, willing to die for it. Do not make a mockery of our friendship by denying what we feel for each other. Take comfort with me. Lie with me. Make love with me. We may not have the chance to do so again; we will have passed up this chance to be joined in love and harmony, not strife."

Gimli turned around, sitting back on his heels, letting his eyes roam over the beautiful body in front of him. Slender, arms not too heavily muscled,
despite pulling the heavy bow, neck willowy like a graceful swan, torso hairless and taut, pink nipples peaked, gold ring standing out. The long, slim shaft brushed against the tight belly, sweet fluid wetting the golden skin. Legolas put his hand out, palm up, waiting for Gimli to take it. "Are you sure, little one? I am not what you are used to. Not a graceful, delicate Elf like at home, or a beautiful maiden with long flowing hair and a pretty smile." He grasped the hand, bringing it to him for a soft kiss, his eyes lifting to gaze into ones hot with desire.

"I don't want anyone but you. I don't need a pretty smile. Your infectious laugh makes me happy, your sly grins make me joyful in my soul. If I want flowing hair, I need look no further, Gimli. I hold it now in my hand." A slender hand ran its way into the thick red hair, pulling the dwarf closer yet, the other reaching out to separate the clothing, to slip inside to run over the thick pelt on the broad chest. "I have had delicate and graceful. I want a man who can take what I can give him, who can handle me in the height of passion when I bite and scratch and dig my nails into soft flesh. I want a man who treats me like a man, spreading my legs, thrusting inside, making me his." Gimli could not move, struck dumb by Legolas' speech, not noticing his clothing joining the Elf's on the floor. He jumped when his thick leggings were pulled on, standing at the urging of slender, strong hands, lifting his feet as they were swept away.

Legolas got to his knees, almost eye level with his soon-to-be-lover, arms sliding around the thick, sturdy neck, lips hovering over the panting mouth, Gimli frozen in place, hands lifted but not touching. Afraid to touch this beauty, mar it with his heavy fingers and thick body. "Touch me, Gimli, I will not break." Lips descended, tongue licking inside, hands tangled in thick hair, dragging closer and closer, until chest met chest, sex against sex, both sticky and wet. Gimli groaned, arms going around the slim waist, up the smooth back, fingers burying themselves in the soft blond hair, tongue tasting sweet mead.

This was not right, Gimli thought, backing away, chest heaving, fingers reluctant to leave the golden halo. A dwarf did not deserve such a beauty. "Get back here!" Legolas grabbed at him, laughing as he drug him onto the blanket, his body shifting to lay back, legs open, arms pulling Gimli down to rest on his chest.

"I do not think I will have need of a blanket tonight. Your thick fur will warm me enough, I do believe. Now, Master Dwarf, be one with me. Warm me both inside and out with your strong, powerful body."

Gimli cried out as a slender hand wrapped around his thick flesh, warm fluid being worked into the dense red hair covering it, making it slick and wet. "This will feel so good in me, filling me with its thickness and its warmth. Come, love me, make me cry out in bliss, fill me with your seed. Cuamin linduva yassen megrille." He went to turn over, a hand stopping his movement, hip held still.

"I want to see your face beneath me, young one, to see your eyes as they darken in passion, kiss your sweet lips, caress your glowing skin." Unsteady hands ran up and down the silken thighs, under scarred knees and lifted slender calves over thick shoulders. He leaned down, rough beard chafing the smooth cheeks of the taut behind, his own sex leaping at the aroma of arousal filled his nostrils. Sweet, minty, a dash of cloves - the unique Elvin scent of Legolas. A scent Gimli recognized now as coming off the elf on their trek here, his own smaller body pressed up against the taller man's on the large gray horse they shared. Could he have wanted him then?

"Sweet elf, your scent stirs my senses, roils my blood. It has been about your form ere this, on our journey across fields and mountains. Dids't thy want me then?" Legolas smiled to himself. The dwarf had slipped into formal sense, a sure sign of his agitation. An impatient buck of hips, a grunt of frustration as Legolas tried to pull Gimli's mouth back to his center.

"Aye, I did. Your body pressed against me, rousing me. I was always fearful that you would feel my desire if your hands slipped from my waist. Your warm breath on the center of my back, your words as you spoke tickling my ear, making me harden and want. Now, please, Gimli, less talking. I need your mouth on me - there." He gasped sharply as the hot thick tongue licked into his very core, hard and wet, probing hard, hands on hips lifting him, leaving bruises he hoped. The long beard tickled his ballsac, little shivers running over it, his sex slapping against his belly, neglected until his own hand took it, fingers sliding under the foreskin, thick jism slicking the plum head. The licking tongue moved, tasted, sucked in succulent flesh as it surrounded the probing fingers, crown sliding in to be nibbled upon and suckled.

"Gimli, please, I cannot wait. Inside. Ona ta a'amin!" Legolas reached down, pulling the thick sex to his hole, pleading with his body and his voice to be taken. It had been so long. He ached to be filled. Not since three Winter Solstice's ago, three seasons since he had lain with a man. Too long to be without completion, without love.

The dwarf captured one hand, pinning it above the flaxen head, letting the other guide him home. One thrust of the elf's hips and Gimli was seated fully, a soft cry as the inner sheathe was filled and stretched.

"Legolas?" Gentle hand lifting a chin, seeing tears, a mouth that trembled as a breached body fought for control. "Love?" A small movement upward, a roll of slender hips, nails dug into a broad shoulder, a quick kiss on the questioning mouth, answered his query. He began to move, bracing himself on the stone floor, rocking back and forth, thrusting into the willing orifice, long legs around his neck now, gripping him tightly, the slender neck arched as Legolas surrendered to passion. Cries of heat, of joy, of desire filled the chamber, echoing off the walls as both men sought their climax.

Gimli held still, letting his lover ease down, trying to slow his movements, now frantic, frustration coloring his moans and sighs, sex aching for release as it spun a trail of dampness over the moving belly. Gimli could feel his cock moving in the slender form, hand pressed down onto the pale groin, fingers tangled in the froth of golden curls. He cursed as nails sharp as daggers dug into his ass, bringing the sharp tang of blood to the air, cooper mixing with sex and sweat.

"I need - to - " Legolas broke off as Gimli wrapped his hand around the golden rod of flesh, pumping and fisting, squeezing and pulling, each stroke
harder than the one before, until Legolas screamed his release, hot seed spewing over his chest and into Gimli's tight fist. One stroke, two thrusts, three, and Gimli shook as his own seed was pushed deep into the Elf's bowels, warm and thick, the soft channel milking it, holding it in until the pulsing inside the slender body eased and released it, spent and wet, to slide out the reddened hole.

"Melamin, melamin, Amin mela lle." Gimli collapsed along Legolas, hands still clasped above their heads, chests heaving, passion sated for now. Legolas let his legs slide to the floor, turning on his side to cuddle close to his lover. Gimli turned also, facing him, arm gripping him tightly against his broad chest.

"See, what did I not tell you? You will keep me warm, hold me safe in your arms. Amin mela lle, Gimli." Drawing the blanket over them, Legolas gave one last kiss, eyes fluttering closed. Gimli followed after.

*****

Aragorn entered the chamber, moving quietly to the sleeping men on the floor. He squatted down, one hand lightly trailing over a delicate shoulder, eyes roaming the sated body, seeing the scattered bruising and dried paths of seed. Legolas opened his eyes, sleepy with sex and love. A soft smile, a hand reaching to stroke the one on his shoulder, a nod. Aragorn placed his other hand on the bare belly, rubbing gently.

"You did not tell him what may occur?" A quick shake, eyes darting to the sleeping Dwarf. He sat up, Aragorn catching him in an arm, brown eyes looking into the now slightly panicked cerulean.

"I did not think - I have not been with a man since you. What if?" Aragorn pressed a kiss on the sweaty hair, moving down to tongue the delicate pointed ear, licking softly, calming his friend.

"Then we will take care of you, my friend, and rejoice in your blessing." Legolas searched his dearest friend's face, seeing only love and peace there. He

lay back down, Aragorn covering him once more, kissing the swollen mouth gently, and walked away, a last glance as Gimli sighed deeply, wrapping an arm tightly around his lover. Perhaps this would indeed be a blessing. Life in a time of Death.



End

Footnotes:
1. Your heart is that of a lion.
2. My bow shall sing with your sword.
3. Give it to me.
4. My love. My love. I love you.