from ![]()
thearrogantemuOh wow, this is a great question and I don’t yet have the words to give it the answer it deserves. But here are some preliminary thoughts:
Neither Legolas, born in Middle-Earth, nor Gimli, his friend’s guest in a strange land for the last time, understand quite how revolutionary a thing they’ve done. When the hosts of Numenor set foot on Aman, the world itself was broken; even the presence of Frodo and Bilbo was at the special dispensation of the mightiest of the Age. Legolas and Gimli just… show up. The Kings murmur in Valmar and Tirion, even the Valar look for a sign. But Gandalf, laughing, meets them at the shore and claps them both in his arms.
Gimli feels the force that the Blessed Realm exerts on mortals, the moth-in-a-flame withering of being exposed to such concentrated reality. (Incidentally, the reason I have neither Bilbo nor Frodo, and to a lesser degree Sam experiencing this effect is because they were Ringbearers; they’ve borne a bit of a Maia’s being, which has essentially inoculated them). But he is of a sturdy people, and has seen many Elvish wonders, and if the end of his life comes in a flare rather than a fading, he counts it no loss. Legolas grieves bitterly, having secretly hoped (perhaps even without admitting it to himself) that the Blessed Realm would hold off the action of time in his friend, and that Gimli might be more than a guest in his heart’s home.
Oh wow, this is a great question and I don’t yet have the words to give it the answer it deserves. But here are some preliminary thoughts:
Neither Legolas, born in Middle-Earth, nor Gimli, his friend’s guest in a strange land for the last time, understand quite how revolutionary a thing they’ve done. When the hosts of Numenor set foot on Aman, the world itself was broken; even the presence of Frodo and Bilbo was at the special dispensation of the mightiest of the Age. Legolas and Gimli just… show up. The Kings murmur in Valmar and Tirion, even the Valar look for a sign. But Gandalf, laughing, meets them at the shore and claps them both in his arms.
Gimli feels the force that the Blessed Realm exerts on mortals, the moth-in-a-flame withering of being exposed to such concentrated reality. (Incidentally, the reason I have neither Bilbo nor Frodo, and to a lesser degree Sam experiencing this effect is because they were Ringbearers; they’ve borne a bit of a Maia’s being, which has essentially inoculated them). But he is of a sturdy people, and has seen many Elvish wonders, and if the end of his life comes in a flare rather than a fading, he counts it no loss. Legolas grieves bitterly, having secretly hoped (perhaps even without admitting it to himself) that the Blessed Realm would hold off the action of time in his friend, and that Gimli might be more than a guest in his heart’s home.
madtomedgar:
Hope you don’t mind this (very sad) addition (and I hope it doesn’t conflict too heavily with your very hopeful conception of Aman. I may have let my natural cynicism bleed in too much)
Keep reading
madtomedgar
