Chapter Text
On his deathbed (and how cruel, to bring death back into Valinor), Gimli bade Legolas neither to mourn him nor fade for his grief, bade him to live in joy among his kin, to live as he had always when they were together--with the same warrior's vigour.
Legolas promised him he would, and keep that promise he did.
So stood he now, Legolas son of Thranduil, at Calacirya, the only path between the mountains that opened to Valmar--where the Valar themselves dwelt.
He lived indeed--traveling as he had once traveled with his beloved, his companion, to the far reaches of Middle Earth. But no longer did they tarry in Endor, for now that land belonged to Men, and when they arrived in Aman Gimli was no longer fit for travel, too old and tired to move.
For many days he seemed to gain back his heartiness, becoming almost hale, spirited in the Blessed Realm. But in the end, the Undying Lands could not stave off the death of beloved companions. Still, Bilbo Baggins perished (long before they'd ever sailed), and Frodo Baggins, though he lived long, followed eventually, Sam following soon after in his time. Whether they were all welcomed in the Halls of Mandos, or wherever the Men would dwell thereafter, if in the Valar's presence or somewhere else entirely, none of the Eldar knew.
But for dwarves, it was different. A dwarf's fate and afterlife was watched over and ruled by their Mahal, the Vala Aulë, who was said to keep them in his halls until the end of time. This was what Gimli and his kin believed, and this was what Legolas put his faith in now, crossing into the Noldorin kingdom of Tirion upon the hill of Túna and hoping for welcome.
Well-met was he, and before the great Noldorin king, Finarfin, he bowed.
"You are welcome in our halls, Legolas Thranduilion. A hero of Endor, and honoured by the Valar, we would grant thee whatever thy need," said the king, infinitely older than Legolas, and yet younger-seeming, by virtue of his years in the nigh untouched Blessed Realm.
"I thank thee, o king, though I cannot tarry. I wish simply to pass into Valmar, to ask for passage into their halls, if they be willing to grant me that," Legolas replied.
Finarfin was troubled by his words, and if by Thranduil's old lessons Legolas saw such trouble on his brow, he spoke nothing of it.
"The Valar will welcome you as a guest, surely, but into their halls? Those are for the dead, my friend, and for the fëar of the Eldar who have passed from their hröar in grief or to pass from the labour of life. Wherefore do you seek such a thing?"
Legolas bowed his head.
"My most beloved one resides in those halls. I wish to see him," he answered honestly. "I wish to be with him, forever, for as long as time still runs and long thereafter."
"If you are grieved... surely if you chose, you could follow your beloved to the Halls of Mandos, where his fëa must dwell? Or if your beloved has lived a good and honest life, he may return to you in less than a century's time, with a new form as the Valar would gift him," said Finarfin, for though he was discomfited by talk of passing on as Eldar might, by choice in grief most of all, he owed it to his guest and to the forgiving and beloved Valar that he know the reasoning behind one elf's strange quest.
"My beloved dwells not in the Halls of Mandos," said Legolas, and he smiled, the edges of his mouth tinged with expectant bitterness. "But in the halls of Aulë, set apart for his children."
Finarfin was silent, and Legolas wondered if he had not heard tell of the only dwarf to ever sail to Valinor and live among the Eldar in Eldamar, who was honoured in death as he was in life.
He would not have heard tell that this was Legolas' beloved, for the coward that he was, the Thranduilion had never spoken of his love until it was too late, until Legolas was bent over his beloved's tomb and weeping.
This was his quest now, to find Gimli in the halls where dwarves dwelt, to speak to him the words of love he had long-neglected in life, and why should he be ashamed now that all in Aman would know of it?
"I see," was all Finarfin could say, and after a time of silent contemplation (where Legolas was given food and rest), he summoned the Thranduilion once more and said, "I will provide to you a guide, and set you thus on the road to Valmar. But heed my words and do not press on, do not fight or rage, if they refuse you. They are wise beyond your years or even mine, and I have seen what comes of those who question it."
The name of Fëanor remained unspoken, though Legolas knew the tale. He bowed humbly. "I would not question their wisdom, for it is their wisdom that allowed me to bring my beloved to Aman in the first place, though no dwarf has ever come here by the straight path over the sea before. I would only languish, then, for I cannot live so long as I am not with him."
"Then go, with my blessing and counsel, and I pray you find what you are looking for," said the king, and Legolas was off again, traveling to the great halls where the Valar, the greatest of beings that had ever dwelt in Arda, lived.