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coprime_recs) wrote2005-02-06 01:10 am
coprime_recs) wrote2005-02-06 01:10 am
Entry tags:
Lord of the Rings: I Will Follow by Arachne
I Will Follow (Legolas/Gimli | G | 1,386 words) is a scene between Legolas and Gimli with Gimli contemplating the casing for Lady Galadriel's gift to him. The story feels right to me, subtle and loving with the meaning of things couched in other words.
Excerpt:
Gimli met their clear gaze for a moment and then looked away, unable or unwilling to share what his own eyes might have told. For surely he was mistaken in what he thought he saw? "I was but wandering in my mind, dreaming of jeweled housings for the gift of the Lady of Lorien."
Legolas, who had seemed strangely unsettled at Gimli's refusal to look at him now laughed, the sound brittle against the low rumble of camp. "So that is it. Such is a dwarve's pleasure - rocks and minerals and the cold perfection of stones."
Gimli did not reply. After a moment the elf brought his long legs up and folded his arms around his shin, resting his chin on his knees. "No wonder Durin's race spreads but slowly. Truly it must be hard to win the heart of such connoisseurs of beauty who seek only perfection and finding it, or the property of some other, not would rather do without than live with something less." He looked down as he spoke. Harsh words. Yet their tone seemed more bitter than scornful.
Excerpt:
Gimli met their clear gaze for a moment and then looked away, unable or unwilling to share what his own eyes might have told. For surely he was mistaken in what he thought he saw? "I was but wandering in my mind, dreaming of jeweled housings for the gift of the Lady of Lorien."
Legolas, who had seemed strangely unsettled at Gimli's refusal to look at him now laughed, the sound brittle against the low rumble of camp. "So that is it. Such is a dwarve's pleasure - rocks and minerals and the cold perfection of stones."
Gimli did not reply. After a moment the elf brought his long legs up and folded his arms around his shin, resting his chin on his knees. "No wonder Durin's race spreads but slowly. Truly it must be hard to win the heart of such connoisseurs of beauty who seek only perfection and finding it, or the property of some other, not would rather do without than live with something less." He looked down as he spoke. Harsh words. Yet their tone seemed more bitter than scornful.