Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate and New Line Cinema.

Author's Note: Fill for a prompt on the hobbit-kink meme.

Stay

"And where do you think you are going?" Gloin asked in a low rumbling voice. He snorted at the way the elf jumped, issued a little yelp, and dropped his pack, whirling around to face the dwarf. It was the most lack of grace he had ever seen from an elf.

"Where are you going?" he repeated when the prince only blinked at him like a deer cornered by a hunter, closing the door behind him. He stepped further into the hallway.

"Leaving," Legolas said quietly.

Gloin grunted, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he eyed the tall creature. "You haven't recovered from your injury yet." Instantly the dwarf bit his tongue. He hadn't intended to say that at all. Darn those parental instincts of his, rearing up at the most unwanted moments!

The elf shrugged and reached down to retrieve his pack, careful of his left shoulder, heavily bandaged under his clothes. "It is not the worst injury I've suffered," he replied in a light tone, readjusting his cloak. Legolas shifted his weight from one foot to another. "I should go anyway," he added. "Tis for the best. I have been inconveniencing you and your people."

Gloin hummed. Aye, many a dwarf had come to him, voicing their distrust, asking just how long the elf was staying, why he hadn't been sent on his way yet. After all, this was Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil who had caused so much grief for the dwarves of Erebor. (Gloin could still clearly recollect the way the little prince had insulted the portraits he carried of his family all those decades ago.) Gloin had attempted to mollify the situation by pointing out the prince was behaving considerably well for an elf, trying not to cause more tension. And it would be considered bad manners not to help a hurt guest. His own thoughts on the whole thing the dwarf carefully kept to himself, quizzically observing the strong trust and regard his son showed for Legolas.

Grumblings about the elf in the dwarves' midst had grown considerably over the last few days. Perhaps it was time for them to see the prince off - before the suspicious looks and harsh words directed towards him accelerated into something uglier.

"You will send a message once you reach Mirkwood?" At Legolas's raised eyebrows the dwarf fought back a moan, cursing his wayward tongue again. "So Gimli will not overly worry about you," he murmured gruffly.

The elf's expression became unreadable. "I'm not going home."

"Oh?" Gloin's brows drew together, trying unsuccessfully to catch the prince's eyes. "Why?" he asked when all he got was a shake of the head from the golden-haired elf.

Slowly, Legolas met Gloin's eyes. Something flickered momentarily in his blue eyes, something the dwarf lord could not identify. A long silence stretched out between them.

"I am not welcomed in the halls of my father," Legolas slowly said, his tone quiet.

Gloin's eyes widened; he had not anticipated that response. "Surely not?" he blurted, for a moment wondering if the prince was jesting.

The elf's back stiffened as he swallowed hard. He struggled to hold Gloin's gaze. "Just before Gimli and I reached the gates of the bridge leading to the palace, the captain of the guard came with tidings from my father. I was bid welcome, but admittance was not given to Gimli. He was to be escorted under a heavy guard to the border of Mirkwood."

Gloin's breath grew shallow and quick, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He could easily picture it in his mind. Of course, after so much time, still a dwarf would not be happily admitted into those halls. His thoughts were interrupted as Legolas went on.

"I said he had traveled with me for many months, was part of the company which set out from Rivendell to see the One Ring destroyed. I demanded Gimli be admitted inside with me, as my shield-brother and friend."

The elf's jaw clenched. "We were forced to wait the king's pleasure. The captain returned with the message that Gimli was to leave. Yet before he was to go, I was to renounce all claims of friendship between us," the prince's voice grew softer with each word.

"What did you do?" the words came out a strangled whisper from Gloin's throat.

Legolas's eyes flashed brightly before hardening. "Do?" he repeated, fury in the quiet word. "There was nothing to do but make clear I would not do anything of the kind. I consider Gimli closer than a brother to me, one whom I trust my life with. After everything we have been through, how dear he has become to me...I shall never cease to call him friend."

Gloin stared at the elf, awe washing away his anger as he took in this response. Up till now he had doubted the genuineness of the elf's feelings towards his son. This was the first glimpse he had behind the prince's polite countenance to his real thoughts.

"And then?" he prompted softly.

"And then came the message that I was banished. I am not welcome to set foot in Mirkwood until I see the error of my ways and ask forgiveness from my father, having broken all ties with Gimli."

Unconsciously Gloin took a step forward, his head whirling. "You did not see your father?" his tone was incredulous. "He sent you away, injured, with no provisions—?"

"Nay." A corner of Legolas's mouth twitched in a bitter smile. "We elves can be stubborn when we wish."

The dwarf waved away the comment with one hand, his mind turning to other things. "But-but then, if you are not permitted in Mirkwood, where will you go from here?"

"I cannot say," the prince shook his head, looking down at his boots. "I spent over a year on the road, traveling through Middle-Earth. Perhaps I shall wander from place to place—"

"No!"

The single loud, firm word caused the elf to snap his head up and look at the frowning dwarf with shock.

Gloin squeezed his eyes shut. He could recall the long tiring days of aimless wandering and the cold, dark sleepless nights. Wondering where he would go, what he would do. All he had known for certain during those endless months was that home was far behind, destroyed. That he would not be returning to Erebor.

And that...being homeless, unwelcomed by family and friends, forever, now faced Legolas. Unlike the dwarves, though, who had been driven from their home, the elf willing left his, refusing to give up his friendship with Gimli. Growing horror twisted Gloin's stomach at the realization. What could he say in response to such display of loyalty from an elf to a dwarf?

If I was in Thranduil's place, would I have demanded the same ultimatum of Gimli? The unexpected thought made the dwarf grow cold, bile rise in his throat.

"No." Gloin repeated, answering the question. He was proud, stubborn. Yet he could not fathom putting his own family through that.

He swallowed thickly as, stepping forward and reaching a hand up, he saw Legolas half flinch back. Awkwardly, he patted the elf's arm lightly.

"No, laddie. I would not wish that for you. Nor would my son," he said slowly, gently steering the taller creature towards the door he had come from. "Since you seem to be without a place to call home, I hope you would be willing to consider Erebor your home." He chuckled at the way the elf responded by sputtering and blushing.

"I have been a great burden on your family, Lord Gloin. And the others –"

"Will understand and be welcoming once they hear of your rebellion against your father to remain loyal to Gimli. If they know what is good for them," the dwarf mumbled the last under his breath.

"Now," he smiled up at his companion, "shall we tell my wife and son the news?" And with that he opened the door, nudging the elf inside first.

"What have you been up to now?" Gimli's voice, loud and angry, greeted their entrance.

Yet Gloin knew the anger meant his son was deeply concerned. He noted Gimli's narrowed eyes jumping between his friend's face and the pack hanging uselessly in his pale hands.

"Were you leaving? Without saying goodbye?" he demanded.

Gloin took pity on the prince who looked very bewildered still at this sudden turn of events. "Was. He is staying with us."

"Of course he is staying," his wife and son spoke in unison.

The dwarf's shoulders shook with silent mirth as Leoglas, giving the impression of a puppy unexpectedly given shelter from a storm, was firmly seated before the fire and fussed over by the two; Gimli called him names, while his ma's words were gentle and reassuring. Gloin puffed up a little when his wife sent him an approving smile.

Aye, the other dwarves had best display every ounce of respect they had towards the newest member of his family. Otherwise there would be dire consequences.

THE END