Through Elven Eyes
by SkyFire

Disclaimer: Not mine, and *boy* are they glad for it! *g*

A/N: 1)Takes place in Lothlorien. In the books, this is the place where Gimli's anti-Elf
attitude undergoes a major turnaround due in great part to the influence of the Lady Galadriel.
Legolas and Gimli's friendship grows from this point onwards. This is my take on the whole *why*
of that event. *g*

2)Okay, Galadriel didn't actually say this to Gimli (or if she did, at least he didn't tell
Tolkien! *g*), but it sure makes for a good story, so I'll use it anyway! *g*

3)This is my first ever Gimli-centric story. I'm usually closer to the Elves, myself, but my
newly-acquired GimliMuse was making too much of a racket, so here it is. PS. My AragornMuse is
still missing. If anyone sees him, let him know that my 'bunnies are looking for him! *g* No,
wait, don't - that might make him run farther! *g*

Please review! I want to know what you think! *g* Besides, my plotbunnies get normal if they
don't eat enough reviews and I *know* nobody wants *that* to happen! *g*

*****
Through Elven Eyes
by SkyFire

Lothlorien in the fall. It was beautiful, even in the waning of the year. The leaves of the
great mallorn trees were burnished gold upon the trees, some already fallen to the mossy ground.
The silver bark of the trees glowed dimly be it in sun or in moonlight. In the Elven forest
kingdom of Lothlorien, silvery elven laughter and haunting Elven songs permeated air which seemed
almost to shimmer in its magical timelessness.

All around them, it called to their weary hearts and spirits, giving them peace that was more
than physical, more than spiritual, more than anything most of them had ever experienced.
Legolas breathed it in gladly, feeling it as a stronger echo of the same force at work in his own
home of Mirkwood, once called Greenwood. It was the same force that was at work in every haven
of the Elves; a force both tangible and intangible, felt and not-felt, something unmeasurable and
magical and distinctly Elven in nature.

Haldir led them to the island capital, then to meet for the first time with the Lady Galadriel
and her husband, the Lord Celeborn. Once the initial meeting was over, he led them to the
pavilion set up for them, then returned to join his brothers once more in the guarding of the
borders.



"What do you think she meant when she said into my mind that for as long as we remained here in
Lothlorien I would look upon the world with Elven eyes?" Gimli asked Aragorn that night as the
Fellowship of the Ring settled in to sleep on their couches in the pavilion that they had been
granted for the duration of their stay.

Aragorn shrugged. "Perhaps she meant only that you would see how the Elves live. Perhaps she
meant for you to open your heart to the beauty of the Elven wood. Perhaps she meant something
else entirely. The secret counsels of the Lady Galadriel are sometimes simple, sometimes
many-sided."

"In other words, I shall have to wait and see what time will bring," Gimli said.

Aragorn nodded. "It is often thus with the counsel of Elves."



"Eeeeyeagh!" Gimli shrieked the next morning upon awakening in the pale gray false-dawn.

The rest of the Fellowship bolted awake at the cry, jumped up, weapons at the ready, facing the
source of the disturbance.

Arms holding weapons went limp even as seven jaws dropped in disbelief.

"Gimli?" asked Merry, staring. "Is that you?"

"Yes... no... yes..." Gimli said in confusion and anger that was quickly fading into disbelieving
fear. "No... I'm in here, but... I do not know."

Gimli sat upright on his couch, blankets tangled tightly around his legs. The nightshirt he had
worn to sleep in that night, once reaching to his knees, was now continually slipping down off
one shoulder and was barely long enough for even the faintest illusion of modesty. The once
broad-shouldered, short, stocky dwarven frame was now lithe and slender, with long arms and legs,
and perhaps a little more than half as broad as he had been. His beard was gone and his reddish
hair now flowed in a shining, straight curtain down past his shoulders. His pale skin seemed to
glow from the inside with health.

So *that* was the not-quite-so-hidden meaning of Galadriel's secret words.

Gimli, son of Gloin of the Misty Mountains, the sole dwarven member of the Fellowship, was a
dwarf no longer.

He was an Elf.


TBC...

So, what did you think? What will poor Gimli do? How will he react? *g* Feed the plotbunnies
at least 10 times and they'll let you know! *g*