Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, I just borrow the characters for this story; this is not a fiction to be sold, it is merely for amusement. I do not own the characters and they can go home at the end of the story.
Warning: Explicit Sex, Homosexual relations and Threesome

Summary: Legolas fading from grief at the death of his true love is cast into our world by Galadriel's magic where he helps his alternate persona Orlando Bloom heal and become whole again

Author's Notes: Italics are thoughts, …italics flashbacks, * * * is a scene change, {lyrics}

A symphony of angelic elven voices were singing a song of timeless love and ageless laughter; but for one it brought nothing but heartache and despair. Gimli the Dwarf, son of Gloin walked through the trees searching for his friend, the one who brought him here a year ago. He remembered the day when Legolas had shown up at his home, looking for him, being the last of the Fellowship.

...”I will be leaving.”

“For the Gray Havens, lad?”

 “Yes, I have lingered as much as my soul was able to bear; and with the death of Elessar Telcontar, it is time for me to go. The grief is still too near.” He replied, his golden locks blowing lightly in the breeze.

“Aye.” Gimli replied with an almost knowing look in his eyes. It had never escaped him how close his comrades had become, or how much in love Legolas had been with the Future King of Men. “Good luck, laddie, may you find peace there, Master Elf.” He finished, as he watched a faint hint of a smirk curling at Legolas’ lips as he himself smiled.

 “We could go together, Lock-Bearer.” He responded, “You are my bravest friend and my truest comrade and I would take you with me.” …

A year had passed since their arrival on the eternally mist covered, woodland realm, Legolas had become aloof and distant, more so than usual however. Gimli had kept an eye on his elven friend and was worried about him. “Master Elf,” he paused to take a breath, “Legolas?”

The figure that sat there on a rock slowly turned, the once creamy skin was pale, nearing tranluscence. Dressed in delicate elven silk and dark gray breeches, the smile that graced the lips was ghostly. “I do believe that is the first time you have called me such,” Legolas said softly, “what is it that I can do for you, Gimli?”

“Ya don’t look well.”

“I am fine.”

“You are not, you are fading from my sight even here in this place of peace and contentment.” Gimli sighed deeply, “I know ye loved him.”

In his mind the image of Aragorn came floating to the front of his eyes, a vision so intense that Legolas felt he could reach out and touch him. He was standing before Aragorn on the day he was to be crowned the King of Men.  …The black breeches were tight against his legs, and he wore a red linen shirt that had been decorated with corded leather braiding. Soft boots that were fitted with steel plates engraved delicately with the braids of birds protected the tops of his feet and his calves. The full skirt of mail clinked lightly as he moved, topped with the shirt of mail he wore.  The shirt of mail had pauldrons of steel each heavily engraved with feathers and other Gondorian motifs. Over all this was a beautiful red velvet sleeveless robe edged in gold, only to be covered partially by a leather tunic of black leather, edged in gold and emblazoned with the White Tree of Gondor and the seven silver stars.

The heavy black cloak that was attached by silver clasps to his shoulders made Aragorn seem more powerful than he actually was. The eyes that met his own were smiling though already heavy with the weight of the crown on his head. He knew that the look of longing in his eyes was not for him and he managed to keep a straight face and not give away the emotion that swirled within him like a raging flood. He felt the friendship and love in Aragorn’s hand as it was placed on his shoulder, and he gave his beloved a smile, “Hannon lle.” Aragorn said, and all Legolas could do was shift his eyes slightly to the right indicating that what Aragorn needed to see was beyond him.

He watched sadly as Aragorn did as he was bid, not even realizing the pain in Legolas’ cerulean gaze, and caught sight of Arwen partially hidden behind a large banner. Legolas let go of his beloved only to watch in silent anguish as Aragorn walked towards her, took the banner then kissed her, lifting her off her feet and turning her around in his arms as she smiled and giggled… “And now all I have are my memories.” He stated sadly.

“Aye, lad, but look what they’re doing to ye.” Gimli said softly in response as he placed a hand on Legolas’ trembling form. “Legolas, please…”

“I am unablt to forget Aragorn, therefore I will fade away with nothing but my memories.” Legolas whispered, as he rose to his feet, “I need to be alone, Gimli, forgive me.” He finished, walking into the surrounding foliage. Gimli sighed deeply, worry etched in his features as he watched the elf who was his friend vanish into the woods long before a normal creature would have disappeared. Turning, Gimli walked off in order to find someone who could help his heartbroken comrade.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The trio took several different paths to the central pavilion where Gimli was waiting for all of them. “Gimli?” Gandalf asked, Glamdring in its sheath; silent for it would never be drawn in battle again and was resting for eternity. “What is wrong?” he queried as Gimli remained quiet and almost subdued. Galadriel, who was the epitome of radiance in a silvery flowing gown and a silver circlet on her forehead joined them.

“I am worried, I was brought here to find peace and I cannot find it, for the fear that gnaws at my heart.”

Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell glanced in Gimli’s direction, “What worries you, Gimli, son of Gloin?” he inquired, as the entire group sat down in delicate hand carved wooden chairs.

“Legolas.”

Three pairs of eyebrows rose at his stark answer, “What about the Prince of Mirkwood?” asked Lord Elrond.

“He grieves.” Gimli snorted as though the smallest child could have foreseen that answer.

Before anyone could speak, Galadriel interjected in ominous tones, “The son of Thranduil is fading and has been ever since I saw him in Lothlorien. I warned him then what would happen if he continued on his present course, but he did not heed my warning. Though only the Valar know whom it is you will fall in love with. The Prince will die..” she said softly, “He will not last much longer.”

“Can you help him?” Gimli asked, his voice softer than the summer wind as he faced the Golden Lady. “Please, I’d rather see him dead than in this misery.”

Galadriel looked thoughtful, as she contemplated a course that had long fallen into disuse, but it was Elrond who inquiried, “Are you thinking what I think you are, Galadriel?”

She nodded quietly, “It might be the only way.”

“What you are thinking of is dangerous, for all the parties involved, both you and Legolas.” Gandalf said, instantly knowing what it was that she was thinking of doing and it was a risk.

“It is a risk we might have to take, but he must be asked first. Whom will approach him with this decision he alone can make.”

“Gandalf and I should go.” Gimli suggested, and Galadriel nodded softly.

“You are a good friend to him, Gimli son of Gloin.” She finished, her eyes watching as Gandalf and Gimli walked off to search out Legolas. When they had disappeared from sight, she and Elrond went to prepare deep within the mountain pavilion.

It was much easier finding Legolas this time with the wise wizard by his side. Legolas was found sitting once more, this time by the banks of a river, as blue as the summer skies above, and they quietly approached him. “Legolas?” said Gandalf as the archer turned, rising to his feet in a smooth movement. He bowed his gold head towards Gandalf. “A moment of your time?”

“Of course, Mithrandir, what can I do for you?” he asked, glancing between the two. It was no secret to Legolas that Gimli would go in search of aid, but he was surprised that he had returned with Gandalf.

There was a subtle shake of the Mithrandir’s head, “None of this is about what you can do for us, Legolas, but rather what we can do for you. You and your heart.”

“My heart?” came his query as comprehension slowly began to dawn on his features, his blue eyes going wide. “Gimli?”

“I’ve never seen an elf fade and I want you to be happy.” He said, as he bowed his head in Legolas’ direction. Legolas returned the gesture, with this came the first true smile on Legolas' lips since the death of the king of his heart.

“A stone is all you are required to bring. It must be a stone of worth, Legolas and found by your own hand.” Gandalf finished, “She is waiting in the mountain pavilion for you.” Legolas nodded slightly in comprehension. He turned, heading to find the stone that was required.

“Do you think this will help him, Gandalf?” Gimli asked sadly as he watched his friend walk away.

“Yes, for what he searches for is beyond my Sight, but with this he has another chance and it is all thanks to you, Gimli.”

*        *          *

The small stone was warm in the palm of his hand as Legolas made his way to the pavilion atop the mountain. But what surprised the archer more was whom was waiting for him just outside. “Lord Elrond.” He whispered, bending the entire top half of his body in a deep bow to the stately elf dressed in maroon and golden robes, his style was simple elegance, and the Elven lord wore a golden circlet on his forehead.

Legolas took a deep breath and looked up at the beautifully carved white doors that hid the mysteries that only the oldest of the Elves were allowed to see, and knew that things would never be the same. “Yes, I understand.” He said, as Elrond swept his hand in a simple gesture and as his hand moved, the doors parted, allowing them entrance into a place that Legolas had never been.

Booted feet made almost imperceptible noises on the marble floors of the pavilion and there was Galadriel, her gown a gold color that clung to her every movement as she turned and greeted him. “You have made a difficult choice, Legolas son of Thranduil. You are not happy here, you have brought your love for the mortal with you, knowing that your love was impossible. Legolas, son of Thranduil, when you enter these gates you submit your fate to the Valar. Do you enter willingly?”

“Yes.” Legolas replied, raising his chin higher. “I am not whole in this world, for the man I knew that I could not have is beyond my reach. I do not wish to exist in this place anymore without him. My friends have seen enough of my suffering, and I too would suffer no more.”

Elrond walked forwards and handed him a mithril goblet with a single sapphire along it’s rim, within was a ruby colored liquid that swirled with energy. “Drink this.” He said, as Legolas took it from him and without hesitation tilted the cup to his lips and drank the entire draught. Elrond took it back from him and spoke, “Find your peace, Legolas.”

Galadriel walked over to him, graceful in her movements. He was surprised as she kissed his forehead, leaning slightly though she wasn’t much taller than he was. “Lay on the dais,” she whispered. He did as she commanded, laying on his back atop the marble dais that was positioned in the center of the room. And it was then that he noticed that the ceiling matched the floor that was carved like a seven pointed star. “You will feel no pain, Legolas…” she said, “May your spirit find what it searches for, brave archer, go with the Valar.” She had already prepared for this and gently took the stone from Legolas’ fingers, holding it in the palm of her hand. She realized then that the stone itself was pulsating with something, a magic all its own.

“Lady Galadriel?” he said, his voice so soft as his body began to fade more rapidly from her vision.

“Yes?” she asked, leaning down so that her lips were only a breath away from his own.

“Thank you.”

“Be at peace.” Galadriel spoke as she closed the space between their lips and kissed him gently, drawing his spirit out of his body. She could feel it then; his sadness and despair at losing Aragorn, the man he had loved since he had met him in Rivendell all that time ago. As Galadriel drew more of Legolas’ spirit within her, his body grew colder, as the emotions swirled within her instead of him.

Legolas’ spirit was free then to be channeled into the stone she held in her hand. She felt the cerulean stone grow warm, then hot as she stepped back from Legolas’ body. Elrond moved forwards then, gently taking her arm as she swayed and looked slightly lightheaded. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, it is done, his spirit is now within the stone.” The Lady of Light said as she opened the palm where the stone resided, though now it was pulsating and began to rise of its own volition into the air.

“What are you doing?” Elrond asked perplexed as he stepped back.

Galadriel shook her head quickly, “I am not doing this.” She said, as together they watched as the stone began to spin, as though its destiny did not reside in this realm, but another. “This is beyond my power, this is of Legolas’ will and that of the Valar.” She whispered in awe.

“What do you mean, Galadriel?”

“I felt Legolas’ spirit, it was crying for Aragorn, and the love that was never reciprocated. I feel that his soul, his spirit is now going to find what lost and whatever it is, it is not of this realm.” The stone began to spin faster and faster, and then in a brilliant flash of light that made both Elrond and Galadriel cover their eyes was gone.

“Do you think that Legolas’ spirit will find what he searches for?” Elrond asked gently as Galadriel was gazing to where the stone had been. Her eyes were glassy, but with tears or something else, Elrond did not know.

Opening her eyes, Galadriel simply smiled. “Yes, Legolas’ spirit will transcend time, space and dimensions, and will find what he seeks.”