Part 2

Posted: April 2004
Author: Haleth

*****

A dozen candles lit Gimli's room, glimmering in their brass holders on the mantle, the bedside table, and in the middle of the table, set for two. A large platter covered by a metal dome sat to one side of the candles, a carafe of wine and two goblets on the other. A gentle fire crackled in the hearth, and a fresh bouquet of wildflowers filled the window with colour and a bright scent.

Gimli stared at the setting dumbly. Sneaking wizard, he thought to himself. He knew Gandalf was responsible for this. He couldn't imagine why an Istari, who surely had matters to attend to of far greater import, would put so much effort into creating a romantic atmosphere for one inconsequential Dwarf and an Elf, beautiful as that Elf may be.

And beautiful he was, even more so for the look of delight on his face when he saw the room. He actually clapped his hands together. "It's charming," he whispered, and turned to face Gimli. Pure Elvish appreciation for the beauty of it radiated from his fair face. That, and the joy of Gimli taking all this trouble to please him.

Gimli supposed there was no harm in a minor misunderstanding of this nature. He wanted nothing more than to make Legolas happy, and he knew that it was less the state of the room, and more the fact that Gimli loved him so much, that drew out this delighted response. He made a mental note to thank the wizard, and stayed prudently quiet. He pulled a chair away from the table for his lover.

Once Legolas sat, Gimli asked, "Shall we have some dinner?" Gimli lifted the cover from the dish. There was a dish consisting of cubed root vegetables in a pale green sauce, dark curly-leafed greens, and something with speckles of red, brown and orange among pale oblong grains. Elvish food, he thought to himself. There was not one piece of red meat on the platter. There were a few chunks of cheese to one side and some fresh bread, but nothing terribly substantial. Gandalf had ordered them a thoroughly Elvish dinner.

Legolas kicked off his boots and sat back, popping one of the pale yellow cubes into his mouth. "Mmm, it's delicious, Gimli." He nibbled on on one of the leaves and smiled. Evidently, Elvish food met with someone's approval. Gimli sat and poked at the sauce with his fork. It had a herby smell to it. He shoved a piece of sharp cheese in his mouth and chewed. Not bad, but not exactly meat on the bone.

Legolas ate in silence, clearly savouring the vegetables. He had not finished an entire serving, though, when he wiped his fingers delicately on a napkin. "And all of it is meant to be served cold. So unless you are famished, we don't have to eat all of it right away." He stood up and returned the lid to its proper place. "How very clever of you."

Gimli blinked. Legolas's voice had just dropped at least an octave, and the way he was leaning against the table threw the line of his hip, long and graceful, into astonishing focus. Gimli had to remind himself, at times like this, that he was not dealing with a young man. This Elf had centuries of experience on him, and knew exactly what he was doing when it came to enticing his Dwarf. He must have known, because it had to be impossible for a hip to be angled quite like that by pure accident.

Legolas hoped that, some day, he and Gimli would get over this need for seduction, these subtle hints and tentative steps toward each other. The excruciating pace sometimes caused hours to elapse from the first hint of interest until they were finally naked and making love. Elves never took this long to negotiate sexual activity. They might never get to the stage of naked and making love, but they made it clear from the start what they wanted, how they wanted it and in what time frame they expected it.

That first night, by the tavern, Legolas had honestly been trying to view the last star of a rather complicated constellation. He'd leaned too far, attempting to see around the edge of the White Tower, and there was Gimli's hair rubbing against his nose. Legolas had felt the intense need to feel that soft hair against his cheek, and that had led to his body pressed against Gimli's, and on and on, until… Legolas smiled. The thrill, the anticipation as he'd touched his lips to Gimli's for the first time, not knowing if he would be accepted or rebuffed, had been delicious. But that sort of apprehension, with time strung as tight as a bowstring, was not good for an Elf. It was fine to endure that sort of excruciating tension on the odd occasion, but it couldn't be endured for centuries. It would drive an Elf to distraction. His nerves couldn't take it.

Besides that, Gimli and Legolas both knew what the other wanted. They both wanted to be naked and making love. Legolas did not see the need to start from the beginning, from scratch, every night.

Gimli's eyes lit up as they traveled the length of Legolas's extended right leg. His hand trembled, as if he could already feel the firm thigh muscles under his palms, and that encouraged Legolas turn his ankle just so to force the muscle of his thigh to protrude ever so slightly, exactly enough to cause Gimli to lick his lips.

There was a muscle in Gimli's cheek that twitched ever so slightly, Legolas had discovered, at the exact moment it occurred to Gimli to take Legolas in his mouth. It was as if the very muscle itself craved the feel of a smooth, hard cockhead rubbing against it. Legolas lifted his leg to one side so his shirt and tunic opened at the bottom, and watched the muscle jump. Gimli bit his lip, and Legolas imagined that it would soon be his own lower lip between those gentle teeth.

On second thought, Legolas hoped he and the Dwarf could seduce each other anew, every night, for all eternity. It was most stimulating to see Gimli grow more excited with every move, every small revelation. There was a lot to be said for this incremental give and take, the subtlety of the invitation, the languidness of the dance. The fire in a Dwarf took a little longer to stoke, but it burned long and hard, and was well worth the effort.

"I find I'm not so hungry after all," Gimli said. He cleared his throat. It was growing uncomfortably warm in spite of the open window. He might have to remove a layer or two of clothing soon. He thought it might be best to start by removing Legolas's tunic.

As if the Elf read his thoughts, Legolas began to unfasten the hooks of his tunic. "I prefer to dine late, myself," he purred as he flicked open the clasps of his shirt. Seduction achieved, it was time to pick up the pace. After a day and a half of separation, worrying if Gimli still desired him, fretting that this happiness would be so short-lived as to be ever painful, Legolas required action. The Dwarven desire for tantalization had been met, if only perfunctorily; pure Elven need was surging. Both tunic and shirt gaped open showing an expanse of satiny chest skin, smooth belly and the ridge of his cock beneath snug leggings.

Gimli's eyes darted immediately down, to the top inside of the left thigh, where he knew he would see a gentle straining of the soft grey wool. Legolas always lay waiting for him there, ever eager but not obscenely so. It took a good deal of willpower to look away from the elegant ridge.

"Did you not enjoy your dinner? You still look hungry," Legolas said with a too-innocent smile.

Gimli stepped closer and laid his hand delicately on the heart-shaped head of Legolas's cock, noticing the slight dampness of the woven cloth under his fingers. "Well, I believe I'm hungry for a different sort of Elven food tonight."

Legolas purred and rocked his hip forward to increase the pressure.

Gimli could not conceive of himself ever giving this up. These last two days, his retreat from Legolas, his ridiculous ideas about avoiding hurting or being hurt, all that paled beside the feel of velvety steel under his palm and the little gust of warm air that escaped from Legolas's lips when Gimli tightened his fingers.

"I believe," Gimli said hoarsely, "there was mention of a birthday present." Indeed, he wanted nothing more than to knock the insubstantial dinner to the floor, unwrap the Elf and feast on him right there. The bed was too far away; the table would suffice. He was thrilled to see Legolas flush lightly.

"I didn't know it was your birthday until I spoke with Gandalf. I hope you don't mind something," he leaned down and rubbed his cheek across Gimli's hair, whispering, "spur-of-the-moment."

A delicate tongue flicked out over the top of Gimli's ear, then pink lips brushed down and tugged on the heavy gold ring piercing the lobe. Hot breath on his neck, cool long fingers dancing across the laced front of his shirt and the low hum of rising Elven pleasure filled his ear - no, Gimli had didn't mind at all. What he did mind was that his powers of speech seemed to have deserted him. He was mute as Legolas slid fluently to the floor and nuzzled his still-damp beard. He was wordless as he felt his shirt lifted from his body, and keen fingers strummed across his chest. After a few non-specific grunts and a definite gasp, when Legolas plunged a hand between his legs and gripped him through his loose trousers, Gimli found his voice. "I believe spur-of-the-moment shall more than suffice."

Legolas gave him a dazzling smile at him, then bent to suck a thick nipple into his mouth. So different, so much more supple than his own nipples, he thought as he suckled and drew out the rubbery flesh. Chest hair teased his nose, and the beard caressed his cheek. Thick muscles tensed under his lips as he trailed his lips further down. Gimli was wearing only a pair of trousers, which fell easily to the floor to reveal his rapidly filling cock. Legolas would never tire of these first glimpses; never grow weary of the sight of the dark, wrinkled skin and thick length. Gimli was rarely full right away, for which Legolas would always be grateful. He'd found, in the last twenty-four nights, that nothing thrilled him more than the sight and feel of the Dwarf as he hardened. The way the soft skin stretched out and accommodated the imposing length was endlessly fascinating. He crouched low and slipped his lips over the thick shaft.

Gimli gripped the edge of the table. It was just like Legolas, to take him in his mouth like that with no warning at all. He was insatiable. At least, his appetite for Gimli's cock never flagged, which suited Gimli quite well. Gimli stroked silken hair and felt Legolas adjust the angle of his mouth, just enough to slide another inch or so down his length. All the tension of the last two days, the shock of when he'd happened upon Legolas - naked and dripping in the bath - the heartfelt confession of love, the fluttering of Legolas's tongue around the ridge of his cockhead, these things roiled inside Gimli and pushed him close to what would be a rather startling and embarrassing early completion. Most unDwarvish, he scolded himself, and willed himself to calm down. Not an easy task, he had to admit, with the beautiful and half-naked Elf on his knees before him, suckling at him like a hungry… stop that! he told himself. He shut his eyes. If he didn't look, then he wouldn't see the awkward, but not graceless, splay of those long legs on the hard stone floor.

"Stop," he said harshly, and Legolas bobbed his head up, letting go of the thick cock with a wet noise that, while not unattractive, was most unElvish in its crudeness. "I'll not have you kneeling on the hard floor like that, lad."

Legolas giggled. "It is not the hardness of the floor that concerns me, dear Gimli. But if you insist…" He rose elegantly and gestured toward the bed. The outline of his cock inside his leggings was clearer now, perfectly clear, the lean shaft and gentle curves of the head showing in exquisite relief. Legolas backed toward the bed, slowly and deliberately, hips undulating with each step. "Do you want your present now?" His blue eyes glittered.

Gimli took a deep breath and somehow managed to maintain his dignity by not leaping on his lover. He walked, just as deliberately, with his heavy cock swaying. "I think that might be in order." Dignity, he decided when Legolas sat on the edge of the bed and drew a lean hand up his naked torso, was overrated. He leapt forward and stripped the leggings down roughly. Strong Elven musk filled his senses, that and the sharp taste of the drops of fluid he lapped from the tip of Legolas's cock. "Now," he rumbled, and sucked the shaft deep into his mouth.

Legolas grabbed Gimli's hair and moaned. It had certainly not taken the Dwarf very long to learn this particular skill. His voracious mouth surrounded Legolas with heat and blissful suction. Legolas slid his thighs apart, and Gimli leaned between them, resting his hips against the edge of the bed after Legolas squirmed back so that his shoulders rested against the wall.

Gimli approved of this position. He thought he might like to spend the night like this, buttressed against the mattress, Legolas spread out in front of him looking more delicious than any dessert he'd ever seen. Sturdy Dwarven legs could stand the night long without failing. He wondered how many times he could make the Elf spend in his mouth before dawn.

Legolas shifted his hips, levelling them on the quilt, and grabbed at one of the hands that stroked his hips. He pressed Gimli's hand down, between his legs, past his hard balls. Gimli's fingertips brushed over the tight opening and Legolas shuddered.

"I would very much like," he panted, "to feel you inside me."

Gimli raised his head so only the tip of Legolas's cock remained between his lips.

"All of you," Legolas added, a little breathlessly, with his eyes darkening even more.

Gimli let go of the cock, which bobbed and twitched against his beard. "You mean?"

Legolas nodded.

Gimli stole a look down between the lean thighs spread wide. His fingers, just his fingers for Aule's sake, looked huge next to the tiny hole. He looked down at his cock, raging hard and slick at the blunt tip, a club, he thought, a tree trunk.

"I assure you, I will be quite accommodating," Legolas cooed in that soft, soothing tone he used whenever he wanted to convince Gimli of something. Something clearly impossible.

"Now, why would you want that, when I'm much happier having you inside me?" Gimli asked, appalled at the way his cock had begun to nod at the mere suggestion of entering that sinfully tight opening. As if it were sitting up and begging, he thought.

"Gimli," Legolas said, and pressed down so Gimli's fingers pushed against the puckered skin. His hips shimmied once, then twice, and the liquid movement was breathtaking. Gimli agreed to experiment.

Gimli licked a finger thoroughly, noticing how Legolas's eyes followed every flick of his tongue. He pressed the thick, wet fingertip against the little starburst and rubbed in a slow circle. He'd touched before, petted, he'd even slid a fingertip inside while sucking or when Legolas was inside him, but Gimli had never really been inside. He prodded and gasped when his finger slipped inside, surrounded by intense heat. Legolas hummed and drew his legs up a little, offering more of himself.

Gimli twisted his finger and sank in deeper, and watched carefully but saw no sign of pain or resistance, only even white teeth grazing a pink lower lip, and the faintest flutter of dark lashes. His eye caught a flash of silver and his free hand sprang up to catch the tin of healing salve Legolas had tossed his way.

"Dwarven reflexes," Legolas murmured dreamily and jerked his hips so Gimli's finger penetrated him as far as it could.

Gimli marvelled at the smooth walls inside, the way Legolas seemed to open to him easily. Gimli closed his eyes to concentrate on the feel of Legolas on the inside, since the way his tongue was licking his lips was a terrible distraction, and felt around. He curled his finger and grinned when Legolas gasped.

So Elves aren't so different from Dwarves, he thought to himself as he caressed the harder spot repeatedly.

Legolas panted, and begged for more. "Ai, Gimli, another finger, please."

Gimli opened his eyes to see the way Legolas's mouth was open, eyes wide, forehead creased, the way he looked when he was about to spend. His long, pale hands fluttered in the air and grasped at the bedding. Gimli leaned down and licked a long, wide stripe up the hard length before him, and Legolas made a strangled noise.

"It's my present," he rumbled against the shaft of the hard cock. "I shall enjoy it however I see fit." With that, he took the solid length between his lips and sucked hard. Legolas bucked under him, keening. It forced Gimli to fuck him, in and out his finger slid inside the clenching heat. He dropped the tin on the bed, used that hand to press Legolas's hips down, and closed his eyes again. All that writhing pale skin was too much of a diversion. He slid his lips up and down the shaft at the same time he slid his finger in and out, always sure to make contact with the bundle of nerves deep inside.

Gimli though he'd never felt anything as exhilarating as the press of marble thighs against the sides of his head, the thrust of hips up to meet his lips and hand, and bare feet skittering across the expanse of his shoulders, toes curling against his muscles.

The blast of seed came close to choking Gimli. Legolas's hum rose to a strained wail, and the tight muscles stretched around Gimli's finger contracted violently.

That's one, Gimli thought, in a bit of a daze, as he drank down the seed.

Legolas's legs faltered and fell back on the bed, leaving him wide open to Gimli, who took advantage of the momentary lack of movement on Legolas's part to shift and press his cock more comfortably against the edge of the mattress. He kept his finger still, and lapped contentedly at the tender skin on the inside of the leg joint. Legolas shivered.

"Gimli, oh, that…" Legolas purred. "So strong…"

Gimli couldn't hold back the snicker. "So, now I see it is possible to tire an Elf," he joked.

Legolas shot him a hot look. "Tire? Nay, dear Dwarf, you have but commenced. Give me another finger, and I shall soon be ready for your hefty cock."

Gimli made to remove his finger, sliding it out slowly, carefully, to the very tip. "I think not, dear friend. You look far to delicate to me for such a laborious task."

An expression of sheer umbrage darkened the Elf's fair face.

"Such a pretty little, delicate looking hole. Lovely and pink. I wouldn't want to strain you, lad. Perhaps," Gimli suggested, "one finger is plenty for the first time. Tomorrow I could think about adding one more, and then we'll see how it goes."

"Gimli, I swear to you, if you stop now I shall have to punish you severely."

Gimli thought about what sort of punishment he might receive. Legolas could be fearsome in battle, but his usual intimidating aura was somewhat marred by the manner in which his legs were splayed open and his hips churned down on Gimli's finger.

Legolas threw his head back, displaying pale, flawless throat, and arched his back deliciously. "You will give me another finger now," he growled. "I can wait no longer."

"Oh, my," Gimli breathed hot and wet against the nearly hairless groin. "Where has the fabled patience of the Elves flown?" He sucked another finger into his mouth to wet it.

The head snapped back up, eyes flashing. "Stolen by a maddening Dwarf! Put another finger in me now or I'll…oh!"

So very tight, Gimli thought. Gimli was not that tight. When he curled the two fingers together and twisted, it made Legolas sing, wordless and muffled but it was not a hum. Open mouthed, panting, throat singing. He sucked the cock back in his mouth and was almost knocked to the floor by a flailing leg, but Dwarves are nothing if not sturdy.

Gimli reached for the salve and popped the tin open. Spit was not enough for this task. He slicked some of the cool ointment around the stretched hole, took a moment to appreciate the coos his lover made, and wedged a third finger inside. He let go of the cock to speak. "Legolas, I can clearly see how much you're enjoying this, but I am fearful of harming you. If you insist on doing this, it much be in such a way that you will be in control."

Legolas had been on top of him, and had taken him from behind while Gimli knelt or lay on his side. Legolas had even fucked Gimli while he lay on his back on the bed and Legolas knelt on the floor. But Gimli had never been on top of Legolas when they were joined. He feared his weight would cause harm, he feared he would not be careful enough, he feared he might do something wrong. Legolas responded to his request immediately curling up and wrapping his legs around Gimli's torso. He kissed the top of Gimli's head. "As you wish, my love," and he hauled Gimli up on the bed with surprising strength.

The next thing Gimli was aware of was being flat on his back with a naked, writhing Wood Elf on top of him and his fingers still firmly entrenched in the snug heat. Legolas was slathering the salve over Gimli's thick cock. "I promise I will be careful," he said in a small, excited voice, even more enthralling than the low-pitched seduction of earlier. Legolas seemed to be glowing more than usual, as if his heightened arousal gave him new energy. His cock was certainly interested in the entire affair. It was fully hard and so upright it pressed against Legolas's belly tightly.

Legolas straddled his lover and guided the heavy crown to him. He closed his eyes as he rocked from side to side, slowly working the thickness into him. Gimli remembered the first time they kissed. Legolas's eyes had been closed the same way then. And he'd not been breathing then either, yet it had done no harm. Legolas forced more of the cock inside and his mouth opened, but that was the only change Gimli could perceive, other than the gradual yielding of the tight opening to his girth. Gimli could feel, could see, he was only embedded halfway.

"Legolas," he whispered, concerned by his lover's lack of expression, "are ye well?"

Legolas opened his eyes, a languorous movement, and trained them on Gimli. Glazed. Darker than Gimli had ever seen them. Wanton. "Whatever could be wrong?" he asked, but there was something different about his voice, a harshness with which Gimli was unfamiliar. Normally, his voice was so smooth it washed over Gimli like a breeze. This voice stuck to Gimli's skin like grit, stung in places, made his cock throb inside his lover. Legolas let out a coarse growl and his whole body flushed pink. He sank down another inch. His fingers, still gripping the base of Gimli's cock, tightened.

Gimli thought his cock might be on fire. Legolas knew his ass was on fire, but he didn't care. He nudged the tin with his knee, and Gimli took the hint. He spread more of the salve around the skin surrounding him, no longer puckered but taut. Legolas sighed and let his weight press him the rest of the way down.

The lack of humming or singing or even talking made Gimli nervous. He ran his hand over a tense thigh.

"Forgive me," Legolas sighed. "It has been centuries since I was so breached, and never have I been so very… full."

Gimli silently cursed his Dwarven equipment. It was not right, to be causing that sweat to break out across Legolas's brow, or to cause his hands to clench so.

Legolas wriggled, sighed once more, but this time, Gimli could hear the underlying hum. The thigh under his fingers went rock hard when it rose, and quivered when it lowered. The tightness around his cock clenched and massaged him steadily. Gimli knew he should respond somehow, but he could not think of how. He wanted to tilt his hips up, but that might affect the wrong angle. He thought about using his hands to urge Legolas up and down faster, but that might break the musical rhythm, and the humming grew steadier with each thrust. He considered the idea of having a birthday every day of the year, but surely Legolas could not do this every night. Perhaps he could have a birthday every second day.

Legolas went rigid above him, clenched tightly around him, and screwed up his face in something akin to pain. He bowed back, so far Gimli could feel the bend in his cock, and then, to Gimli's delight, thick white cream spurted from his cock, spattering Gimli's chest and stomach.

Gimli was close, so close to his release, but he didn't dare move as he watched the muscles relax and uncoil in long limbs. Legolas didn't even go all the way soft. He rocked back and forth, humming, and his cock went hard again. He pulled himself, carefully, up off Gimli's cock and rolled to the side with legs still spread wide. He lowered himself to what he guessed was the right height.

Gimli sprang up and was astounded to find Legolas had somehow gauged the height perfectly. He had only to kneel behind him and lean forward. He hesitated, staring down at the glistening opening, not a tight, guarded entrance now but wet and open and waiting for him. Legolas made an impatient whimper and pushed his hips back. Gimli's cock fit inside so perfectly it was breathtaking.

He knew he could not last much longer, and Legolas knew as well, but Gimli was not worried. He'd discovered, from much practice over the last few weeks, that Legolas's third peak usually came quickly, and somewhat violently. He'd also learned, over the course of their newfound intimacy, that the legendary ability of Dwarves to last the night long was probably based on experiences with other Dwarves, and that the experience with an Elf, or at least with an Elf as virile and adventurous as Legolas, was not as long-lived, although it more than made up for the shorter duration with a bordering-on-painful intensity.

He reached down to cup hard balls and caress them gently. Legolas keened and slammed his hips back. No hesitation now, no delay required, no pain evident. Gimli fucked with the same level of passion with which Legolas usually fucked him. Every smack of his hips against the pale, taut ass drove him deeper inside, drove Legolas to slam back harder. As expected, Legolas's third peak was swift and fierce, bringing Gimli to his completion at the same time.

Gimli swore and wrapped his arms around Legolas's heaving waist, desperate to stay connected throughout the frantic bucking. Legolas hummed and threw himself onto the bed and Gimli fell on top, still seated. The insides of the Elf were quivering around him, and it was impossible to leave so soon. They lay as one for a few moments; the only sound was their breathing and the odd moan from Legolas.

Gimli had a little trouble understanding how this had happened. Until Legolas had surprised him like that, he hadn't had the faintest desire to fuck him. No, that was not entirely true. A few times, when Legolas had slid into him so gracefully, he'd tried to imagine what it must feel like, and a few times when he'd felt Legolas's tiny opening pulsing under his fingers he'd wanted to push inside with more than a fingertip, but he would have been happy if he'd never fucked the Elf. As long as the Elf continued to fuck him, of course.

Now, he realized, that happy was good and well, but this ecstasy was much better.

Legolas drew away from him, wincing slightly as the half-hard cock drew out of him. "Let me be sure of the schedule, now," he said. "We do not ride for Aglarond until the end of the week, correct?"

Gimli chuckled. "Have no fear, there is more than enough time to recover." He reached for the tin and smeared some salve on his fingers. Legolas's eyes widened. "Don't be daft!" Gimli exclaimed. "This is for healing, not for fucking!"

Legolas smiled sheepishly and turned on his stomach. Gimli wiped him clean and rubbed the ointment gently around the reddened hole. "Honestly," he groused, "If you think I'd be up for another ride like that, you must have a preposterously exaggerated opinion of Dwarven prowess. I don't think I'll be able to even stand until I have a good night's sleep, and as for that sort of activity, at least three hearty meals and a day of rest will be required." He pulled the blankets up over them and settled down behind Legolas's long back. He traced a pattern on the fair skin, the outline of a love knot he'd seen his uncle draw on his cousin's door the night of her marriage. The faint pink shape faded in seconds, but remained, it seemed to Gimli, underneath the smooth skin.

"Gimli?"

"Hmmm?"

"Promise me that if anything is bothering you again you will talk to me about it?"

"Aye."

"And you'll stop worrying about the age difference?"

"Aye, lad." He knew that irked Legolas, but if he stopped saying it, it might worry the poor Elf.

"And you'll never leave me."

"Heh? What?"

Legolas turned to face Gimli. His fingers snaked into Gimli's beard. "I'll survive your natural death somehow. I'll think of you for eternity. I'll be a better Elf for whatever time we are granted together. But I could not survive if you left me."

Gimli slid his hand up and patted Legolas's hip. "I'll not be leaving you, Legolas. I love you too much." He shuffled forward and they kissed tenderly.

Gimli drifted, with his lips resting lightly on Legolas's cheek. He was drained. Emotionally, physically and sexually drained. This was the best birthday he'd ever had. And as Legolas had pointed out in the bath, he had a hundred, perhaps a hundred and fifty to go.

"Gimli?"

"Hmm?" Gimli opened one eye. Legolas was staring at him, wide-eyed and innocent as a child.

"Can I hear it one more time?"

"I love you."

*****

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