Jealous

Gimli scowled as Legolas emerged from the shared tent of the Sons of Elrond, smiling brightly and yawning into the morning air.

"Where have you been all night?" he asked, trying not to sound like a worried parent or a jealous lover.

"Having a marvellous time with my brother and I!" A dark head poked out from the tent flaps, surveying the surroundings, before a tall, lithe yet muscled body followed. "Why, Gimli? Does he have to ask your permission to go anywhere?"

He could still not tell the twins apart by their looks, but their personalities were very different indeed. That one was Elladan. Sneering and sarcastic.

Fingering the axe hanging at his hip, Gimli managed to withhold his anger to a small growl in the back of his throat and stomped away to find some food. Sitting with a bowl of broth and a hard piece of bread, he watched the elves from a safe distance.

Ever since the rangers and the twins had arrived, Legolas was content to spend all his time with his fellow elves, nearly totally disregarding Gimli. He spoke with them merrily in his own tongue, he sang with them, and last night - unless Gimli's eyes were mistaken - he had gone to bed with them. Both of them!

Maybe they had just sat up talking all night? Or singing? Or telling stories? Yes, it could be something as innocent as that.

But then why was Elrohir buttoning up his tunic as he slipped out of the tent and sauntered over to his brother and Legolas? What had caused the healthy glow in Legolas's pale cheeks? Where had he abandoned his green tunic? Why was his hair unbraided... Hanging loose and tousled around his face and shoulders, gold threads shimmering in the sun.

Gimli snapped his mouth shut, suddenly realising it was hanging open. He had not been staring. He had certainly not been drooling. And he was definitely not jealous. Jealous over an Elf? Never! Jealous over *that* Elf... If he wanted to make merry with those twins, then it was fine. If he wanted to spend all his time with them, Gimli didn't care. He had plenty of other folk to talk to!

That was just why he was sitting all alone...

Elrohir glanced in his direction with a sweet smile, before sitting down behind Legolas, stretching a long leg either side of him, and removing a comb from his pocket.

So, they walked together, talked together, slept together and now... now, they were even grooming each other. Wonderful. Seeing to Legolas's hair was *his* job. He remembered how many times Legolas had used long nimble fingers to twist the most intricate of plaits into his beard, at night sometimes when neither of them had been able to find rest, and how he had spent long restful moments running his fingers through that soft golden hair, massaging the tension from a weary head, feeling Legolas sigh and lean back against his body... just as he was doing now with Elrohir.

Gimli cursed as hot soup slopped over his hand. Bloody elves! Legolas was like a different creature around his own kind. And certainly with those two! It made him mad the way they petted him, and spoke softly to him, and slid arms around him, when Legolas would have amputated a body part of anyone else who dared to treat him so. Except Gimli. He was allowed to touch him like that.

He clenched his teeth as he watched Elladan join in the stroking of the Mirkwood elf, and Legolas visibly shivered as Elladan stroked a little close to his ear.

Gimli remembered how he had sometimes seen a pretty pink blush creep over those pointed tips when his own fingers had accidentally slipped. He remembered the hitch of the Elf's breath on such occasions. He remembered the slim body shivering against his own. And now he was in a different position to see what was happening, he understood why.

Unless his eyes were mistaken (again), something was stirring beneath the hem of Legolas's shirt. He tried not to stare as Elladan moved closer to his Elf, his movement shifting the edge of the shirt up to reveal that something was indeed growing within the grey leggings. How could they be so blatant in front of --

His Elf?! Where had *that* come from?

He was not jealous! Absolutely, certainly, without a single doubt, *NOT*....

Elrohir put the finishing touches to the braid behind Legolas's ear and leaned forward to nuzzle the tip...

Gimli was jealous. He sighed, and huffed, and mumbled and grumbled for several minutes before daring to turn his eyes back to the trio. He was jealous. He had admitted it to himself. And he was attracted to the damn Elf. Very attracted indeed. He was beautiful, in a strange sort of way, and (at least until the twins had arrived) he was his best friend. Gimli had thought sometimes that something had been growing between them, but now only one thing seemed to be growing and it was nothing to do with him.

"He does like you, you know," Aragorn said behind him, startling him from his reverie.

"Hmph!" was all Gimli could manage in reply. Oh fantastic, now he sounded like his father! Could it get any worse?! "He likes me, does he? Then what is he doing with them?"

"Maybe trying to see if you like him the same," Aragorn shrugged. "Don't be so stubborn, Gimli. Soon we ride to War. This may be your last chance." He squeezed his shoulder and walked away.

Huh! What did he know? What did a human know about his heart? Or Legolas's, for that matter?

But he was right. Maybe soon it would be too late. It was stupid, so stupid for Dwarf to fall for an Elf? What would Gloin say?! Though why did that matter? He may never see him again either.

A giggle travelled on the breeze to his ears and he looked up. He had only ever heard Legolas laugh like that once, when he had been playfully tickling him. Of course the tickling had backfired when Legolas had lost control of Arod due to it, and Gimli had ended up flat on his back on the floor. But it had been worth it to hear that sound. To see that smile. To feel that body squirming under his hands...

Now those damnable twins had got hold of him. Well, not for long! He could not be made to look more stupid than he already did. And he wouldn't be made to look stupid. Not by them, even if they were Elf Lords and the grandsons of Lady Galadriel. Legolas was his. And no other's and he'd prove it!

And if Legolas laughed at him then he would look a fool, but he didn't care. He could be dead tomorrow. And he'd rather be dead before he'd see Legolas in the hands of anyone else.

"Legolas!" he bellowed across the camp, standing and dropping the soup and bread to the floor. "Come here! Now! I need to tell you something!"

Raising an eyebrow, Legolas unpeeled himself from the twins and rose to his feet. He said something to the two of them, and they exchanged smiles between themselves.

"You hollered?" Legolas enquired as he approached the Dwarf.

Gimli stared up at him with a determined expression. "Bend down."

Legolas gave him a curiously flirtatious smile as he bent over. "Are you to whisper it in my ear after yelling across the camp to me? What is it?"

"This!" Gimli grabbed a handful of blond hair and pulled the Elf's face down towards his own to crush a kiss to his lips.

"Gimli! What are you...? Mmph!" Was about as far as Legolas could question before a tongue invaded his mouth.

Gimli ignored the laughter and hollers and occasional cheers filling the air as he loosened his grip on Legolas's hair, smiling into the kiss as it was returned.

"Well," Legolas breathed as he pulled back. "I did wonder how long it would take you." He flashed Gimli his most dazzling smile. "I was getting close to giving up."

"You wretch!" Gimli smacked him hard across the backside as he shoved him towards their tent. "Come on, let's finish this somewhere less public!"

------------------

"You're right," Elladan remarked to his brother as Legolas and Gimli disappeared into the tent. "Dwarves are jealous little things."

"See?" Elrohir beamed smugly.

"What did you do with him?" Aragorn came to sit between them.

"Legolas?" Elrohir looked innocently at him. "Nothing at all. But somebody had to get things moving between them."

-END-