AN - I have always loved the relationship between Legolas and Gimli and loved that after the final battle they kept their promises to explore the Glittering Caves and Fangorn Forest- but I always thought that tale deserved more than a footnote in the appendix. And with everything else going on in the movies, it was one thing that wasn't even touched on... I missed that. This is my attempt to fill that void.

I guess this should have a death fic warning... even though... its more about going on than about death... still... its canon

Reviews and comments appreciated.

Long under the tree

Legolas Greenleaf, long under the tree

In joy thou has lived, beware of the sea!

If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore

Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more. – Galadriel

The words had meant so little then: a warning that made no sense, in a time of great challenges and great sacrifices. He had sworn to follow his part of the quest through, and his friendship with Aragorn made the Ranger's quest his own. He would have followed him to the end of the earth, and did—from the end of the woods to the sea, which called to him even now.

After the battle, after the war, after all that came… after- the calling filled him with pangs so deep he almost wept, and his greatest solace, his greatest joy, the woods themselves offered him no comfort, for the sea called to him, as if the blood in his veins had turned to saltwater… and trees, the young elf knew, could not grow in saltwater.

120 years is not long in the age of an elf, but an eternity when your heart lies elsewhere. He would have gone, but he had promised to help rebuild and there was much that needed rebuilding after the great war like any war. Even with the sea-longing, he kept his word to his friends, his brothers. To Aragorn, and his cause he had promised his life. Aragorn had shown him the world beyond Mirkwood and all that he held dear, and it was Aragorn who gave him purpose—a purpose he held to even now, as the ending had begun. He had also promised Gimli, son of Gloin, that they would explore the glittering caves and the depths of Fangorn forest together.

Those promises were kept, and though his own mother had died from the sea-longing he held off leaving middle earth for the Undying Lands, for there was still one last promise to keep.

Promises to Keep.

Legolas smiled as the dwarves arrived, their stone works were legendary. He had only seen a hint of their craftsmanship in the ruins of Moria and he knew Ithilien and Osgiliathwould be in good hands. Though it was barely necessary at the time, their first project was to rebuild the gates of Ithilien. The elves had started to arrive in groups as small as three and as large as ten and although there was distrust at first, the dwarves and elves worked together in the gardens peacefully: the elves planting and healing the trees as the dwarves laid stone paths that led from the gate to the keep proper.

In the evenings the elves sang, surprised when two or three of the dwarves would join in, adding a grounding low tone to their ethereal voices, and still, Legolas could not find true peace.

He smiled, though the trees' welcome no longer satisfied him. His heart ached for the sea, and though he fought to keep it secret, there was one with him from whom he could not hide: Gimli, son of Gloin, who had been his friend since the days of the fellowship.

Gimli knew, though he rarely said anything about it Legolas could feel it in the way the dwarf watched him. It was hard at times to hide the longing, for even in the heart of Fangorn Forest Legolas' attention was always drawn to the west.

Legolas offered him a soft smile when he saw the sadness in his friend's eyes.

"I will not leave, Gimli, son of Gloin. Not while there are those of the fellowship who remain."

Gimli nodded, but Legolas could see the effort it took the dwarf not to comment. He knew his own time was running out. There is only so long you can deny your heart's desire before it can take no more, and even as he sensed that, Legolas knew that Gimli had sensed it too.

It was in the Glittering Caves that Gimli had first voiced his concern, in a gruff tone he'd asked "Laddy, if it pains you so… why don't you go?"

Legolas had had a hard time suppressing a smile at that, since he was at least two thousand years older than the dwarf, and then he laughed gratefully, realizing that the dwarf had chosen his words with just that purpose—to make the elf smile.

"When our work here is done," he assured the dwarf after a long pause. "When what remains of the fellowship is no more—then I will leave for the undying lands, but there is still too much to do."

He saw a pained expression cross Gimli's face, even though the dwarf tried to hide it. "You will be the last of us my friend," he said. "And I do not envy you that."

Legolas gave a slight bow in gratitude for the dwarf's words. Though sometimes crass, and very much a dwarf, Legolas had learned that much of the gruffness was an ill attempt to hide his feelings, and so he swore to himself, that he would be honest, at least with Gimli.

Aragorn was another story, the King of Gondor had far too many worries as it was, and he did not need to know of the calling that all but consumed his oldest friend. For Aragorn, whom he had known since the man was but a lad, Legolas would only allow him to see his happiness at his friend's success. He would never let Aragorn know the cost the path of the dead had exacted on his companion, and the calling that kept him from true rest.

One hundred and twenty years, was not a long time… and he had many things to do, the hardest was telling his father, for his father knew all too well what the longing would do to him, if too long denied.

"Is it not better to leave, to take one of the last ships to the undying lands?" His father had asked him, and Legolas could only give him a sad smile.

"Ada," he said, calling to his father. "I have promises to keep."

"What of your promise to me, to your people…"

"I have survived the war," Legolas answered. "I have returned home… I have kept my word."

"Not if you allow yourself to die like this…"

Legolas did his best to hide the depth of the call from his father, but in the end, it always came back to the longing. Legolas had returned as he'd promised, but he no longer belonged. It was as if the very trees sensed the ache that lay like a poison within him… slowly killing the heart of the greenwood's beloved son. It broke his heart to see what this was doing to his father.

The night before they left, Gimli had done his best to broker a peace between father and son, but there was no peace to be found. The longing was killing Legolas a little at a time, and both father and son knew it. For Thranduil's part, he could not see why his son did not leave. He had done his part, he had fulfilled his promises a thousand times over—but Legolas had one more promise to keep, one he refused to change. And so they parted, not in anger—but in sorrow.

Gimli realized that parting in sorrow was worse, for he finally realized that when the last of the fellowship had passed, it would be too late for the Mirkwood Prince. That night, Gimli wept for his stubborn friend, though he refused to say why.

He didn't have to, Legolas knew all too well, but not a word of it was spoken between the two. They merely took comfort in the other's presence.

For one hundred and twenty years, they traveled. Gimli grew older, and watched as Legolas slipped into a daze of longing, and yet he kept his peace, for he knew just how stubborn the elf was. It had served them in good stead in battle, but now… it was killing him, and Gimli knew not what to do.

For one hundred and twenty years, Aragorn ruled Gondor, and saw the city returned to his former glory. He reveled in the lives that had forever changed his own, and mourned the passing of first the hobbits, and then his own approaching death. When called, Legolas and Gimli came to bid him farewell, and to be there for him, and for his family after that.

As the final stone was laid, Gimli new that he alone was keeping Legolas in this twilight, and finally he spoke to his oldest and dearest friend. He laughed bitterly for at the start of the fellowship he cared not one whit for an elf, let alone an elf of Mirkwood, least of all its Prince. He would rather have trusted a starving warg to watch a child: how little he had known then of the elf's loyalty and honor.

"Laddie," he said softly. "It is only you and me—and I would rather know that one of us will live on, live to tell our tales and remember the rest of us. Please, do not wait any longer on my account."

The look Legolas gave him nearly broke his heart, for he knew, once given, Legolas would never go back on his word, even if he begged.

In frustration he pulled his beard and growled at the elf. "Is there no way of getting through that thick, pointy-eared skull of yours that I do not want your word? I do not want to know that I have a part in your death lad, I do not wish to go to the grave with that on my head."

Legolas gave him a soft smile that broadened into the one Gimli remembered all too well, the teasing joyous smile. "Come with me."

Gimli froze, and growled at the elf, thinking he was mocking him, but Legolas simply looked at him expectantly.

"Come with me my old friend… and we shall keep the memories of the fellowship together."

And so it was, that Gimli, son of Gloin and Elf-Friend, found his way to the Gray Havens, and sailed to the undying land with his oldest and dearest friend.