Oh my dear anon. I could go on about book Legolas for hours.
Book Legolas is a sassy little sh*t who skips on the surface of the snow when everyone else is drowning in it up to their waists and carrying the four hobbits. Book Legolas sleeps with his eyes open. He watches Aragorn throw himself to the groud and listen to the sound of running horses, only to say afterwards, “yeah, there are a hundred and five of them, they’re all blond and they all have spears nbd“. Book Legolas cries that Gollum escaped grom Mirkwood right after everyone was like, “phew, it’s good that Thranduil’s elves keep an eye on him, what could go wrong???“. He screams all the time, and occasionally drops his bow too. He kills a warg, shooting it right in the throat with a burning arrow. Book Legolas is a trees stan. Book Legolas walk away singing “To the Sea! To the Sea!“. Book Legolas is not afraid of zombies, thank you very much. He addreses his friends “children“, even though he is probably the youngest elf in Middle-Earth that we know of. And of course, book Legolas takes none of your bs, builds his own grey boat because who says he can’t sail on his own ship right, packs his best friend and shows up in Valinor 120 years late with Starbucks and a dwarf.
So I was rereading The Two Towers
the other day, and it struck me that there is literally one instance in that
entire book that Legolas speaks without being prompted to someone he doesn’t
know. And that out of three instances in
the entire book that he speaks to someone he doesn’t know at all (one of whom
is not even a person, but an Ent, which I don’t think counts since elves talk
to trees anyway). And it made me think
back on what we see of Legolas, and come up with the following headcanon which
I present for your perusal: shy Legolas.
Legolas who is fine in his woodland
home, because they’re all elves; everyone basically gets to know each other,
because you have so many centuries in which to develop at least some level of
comfort with each other. But he doesn’t
really go very far away very often, particularly if you headcanon him as being
kind of young, so he’s not very good at talking to people outside of his
immediate sphere.
So, painfully shy Legolas who takes
on the role as messenger to Elrond because he feels responsible for what
happened to Gollum. Legolas who spends
the entire time before the council sweating in anticipation of having to speak
to someone else – to a lot of someone elses, in fact. Legolas who has been psyching himself up so
intensely and for so long that as soon as someone mentions Gollum, he’s
blurting out his news – no matter that he’s kind of interrupting someone, he’s
been working on these words for the last three days, they’re coming out right
now.
Legolas who goes on this journey
with a ton of people that he doesn’t know.
I imagine he’s met Aragorn, at very least because Aragorn brought Gollum
to them, and he knows Gandalf, because who doesn’t know Gandalf. But other than that, there are all these new
intimidating people that he doesn’t know, and they seem great, but he has no
idea how to interact with them, and he keeps getting tongue-tied when he tries
to say anything.
Legolas who is actually really
lovely when you get to know him – he’s sweet, and can wield some devastating
sass, and he actually has quite the poetic streak, but you really only get to
experience that part of his personality once he’s become comfortable with you.
So, Legolas who spends the first
few weeks of the Fellowship’s journey saying almost nothing to anyone but
Gandalf and Aragorn. Everyone else thinks he’s stuck-up, but he’s actually just
too uncomfortable to know what to say to them.
And then he finally starts gaining some confidence on Caradhras, because
finally he doesn’t feel like he’s at a terrible disadvantage, but of course he
just ends up aggravating everyone because – now that they’re all miserable is
when he decides to be cheerful? So they
all just think he’s self-absorbed and kind of rude, when really he’s just
socially awkward and terrible at first impressions.
And then Moria happens, and Gandalf
“dies,” and they make it to Lothlorien, where Legolas is kind of the only
person who CAN negotiate for them. And
he does his duty when he has to – besides, these are wood-elves, the closest to
his people he’s run into anywhere else, so he’s at least able to talk to them
about the Fellowship and ask them for passage.
Besides, Gandalf is dead, and he’s too busy being sad to be anxious.
Legolas who is one of the only ones
who can look at Galadriel for very long because a) he’s an elf, and more used to
this sort of thing, and b)
he’s frankly so relieved he doesn’t have to talk out loud that having her in his mind is nothing. And
maybe she’s able to sort of gently ease his worries about the people around
him, at least to the point where he starts relaxing enough around the other
members of the Fellowship to interact with them like a regular person – or,
elf.
This headcanon actually makes me
have even stronger feelings about his relationship with Gimli – because a) once
they become friends, the two of them are almost never seen outside of each
other’s company, and b) Gimli often seems to be the designated speaker, but
what he says applies to both of them.
Also, Gimli is very confident, self-assured, and charming. Legolas is decidedly none of those things.
So, looking back through their
relationship starting from the beginning: Gimli’s ready to try to look beyond
the elf-dwarf feud, because he’s diplomatic enough to realize that they need to
be able to get along for the rest of the Fellowship. So he makes some cautious overtures towards
friendship, which Legolas responds to with one-word answers and lack of eye
contact – which leads Gimli to think that he’s giving himself airs, when actually
Legolas just has no clue how to do this social thing. So then Gimli, offended, gets a little snippy
towards him, which makes Legolas withdraw further, and before Lothlorien they’re
both pretty much ignoring each other, with the occasional snappish comment here
and there. And of course the blindfold
business doesn’t help matters.
But in Lothlorien, the Lady gives
Gimli the inspiration to try to look beyond the feud again, and gives Legolas a
little more confidence. So Legolas goes
to Gimli and tries to apologize for the blindfold thing, and Gimli – while not
quite ready to forgive – does sense that he’s really uncomfortable and is
honestly trying, so he gives him a chance.
They start spending more and more time together, and eventually Gimli
realizes that Legolas is actually lovely one-on-one, but he’s just so
uncomfortable around unfamiliar people.
This activates Gimli’s mama-bear
instincts, and he sort of becomes Legolas’s protector. I imagine that the two of them become really
good at communicating nonverbally in the presence of other people (though of
course they do talk when they’re together), but they just get a really good
feel for each other, and usually Gimli is able to just speak for both of them
after no more than a shared glance and some facial expressions. And they become each other’s most important
people, and make sure to stay close all the time.
This, of course, makes “he stands
not alone” even more touching and poignant, because this is the only time in
the entire book that Legolas speaks to someone unfamiliar without first being
spoken to. (Which gives me EVEN MORE FEELINGS ABOUT THIS SCENE THAN I ALREADY
HAD) The thing is, Gimli is all set to speak for both of them: Eomer asks why
the two of them aren’t saying anything, and Gimli immediately goes on the
defensive. Which would make sense
because he’s not only defending Galadriel, but also taking some of the heat off
of Legolas with his own reaction. Eomer of
course reacts – and then Legolas leaps in to defend Gimli without any
prompting. The thing that makes him overcome his reluctance to speak is Gimli
being threatened.
I also – to move things into the
more romantic angle; forgive my shipper heart – absolutely headcanon that Legolas was the first of the
two to realize his feelings, and also the first to bring it up – and I think that
that, too, is heightened by Legolas being so timid and awkward. Because Gimli makes him feel comfortable –
enough to tease, enough to defend, and enough to confess. I think it’s even more meaningful if this
poor awkward and socially-anxious elf is the first one to gather the courage to
speak.
Basically: Legolas is shy and
socially awkward and Gimli is confident and protective and they both deserve
all the hugs.
not too surprisingly it’s all about Legolas, considering I was twelve back then and also who doesn’t love Legolas tbh
alright, cool!
that’s p interesting. I haven’t read Fellowship in a while, but it seems like the name Galdor was later used for that one elf in the Council of Elrond, according to the One Wiki.
ooh, so it’s that Caradhras scene. But what’s so different about –
gANDALF NO
another what-if:
yowch
it’s ok Gimli you Tried™
speaking of Gimli:
savage
okay wow. No way. This must’ve been before Tolkien thought up the whole “faithless is he who says farewell when the road darkens” scene because neither the Gimli nor Legolas we know would ever do this. I’m so glad this was changed in later drafts, lol.
I didn’t ask for these sudden feels
in short: looking through one’s sixth grade bookmarks is an Experience and please read the rest of the webpage because all the stuff there is pretty cool. 😀
Since Legolas & Gimli’s friendship was based on competition, I assume that after the war they just found successively weirder things to keep betting on.
Day 24 of my #Inktober project of my personal heroes of page and screen. Legolas is my oldest recurring love. I was six when my mother read the Hobbit to me – and when we were done, I asked, That’s it? Is there more?
Well, she said, well yes, there is.
And thus, she started reading the Lord of the Rings to me when I was about seven. She skipped and shortened bits, I think, but not many; it took us years before we were finished, by which time I was reading along (or ahead). Tolkien’s Fantasy has been a constant companion of my life for the last thirty-five years, and I’ve revisited it ever since, even during phases when my mind was occupied with space battles or Carthaginians. My mother started buying the Lord of the Rings calendars in the mid-eighties, which was when I fell in love with the art of John Howe, Alan Lee, Inger Edelfeldt and Ted Nasmith. Even back then, there was this little voice at the back of my head that said, One day, you’ll do this too.
Legolas had a much, much tinier role in the film that you’d assume from all the merchandise featuring him nowadays. Altogether, he has something like twenty sentences of dialogue in all three books, not counting his long tale at the Council of Elrond. But in nearly all of his few lines of text, his sense of humour and kindness just shines through. That appealed to me from the very beginning. He comes across as a very down to earth character in the book, with just a hint of the time-weary sadness that was the hallmark of Orlando Bloom’s version, with whom I often had the feeling that Peter Jackson was trying to get in as much Silmarillion Elf as the character could handle (and then some). My own visions of the characters, thankfully, had been around so long by 2001 that the movie did nothing to challenge them. I’ve taken over a few, of whom I had just fuzzy mental images (like the Hobbits), but most of them are firmly my own. When I read “Aragorn” or “Legolas”, it’s always my versions that spring into my head, not the actors.