Ori was in love.
He sent a fleeting glance at the object of his affections. Oh, what he wouldn't give for them to smile at him, to pick him up in their arms and swing him around and kiss kiss kiss him, and then they would fall onto the ground under the starry sky and – Stop. That was getting a bit too raunchy for him.
Their lovemaking would be so passionate that ALL the dwarves ever ever ever would be in awe of them! And they would become King and Queen (or was that King and King?) of a kingdom! (Ori didn't know which kingdom. He assumed that him and his Love (capital L) would sort that out when they came to it.)
Ori's increasingly strange and capitalized thoughts came to a halt as Nori waved a hand in front of his face.
"Hello-o! Middle-Earth to Ori! Wake up, Ori!" Nori blew in Ori's ear and fell over, giggling madly.
Ori stared at his brother, thoughts of his LOVE (oh dear, all caps too) momentarily derailed as he wondered what, exactly his elder brother had been smoking. (Probably pot or something. Nori was into that. Ori couldn't figure out why.)
Ori whacked his stoned brother in the face and went back to staring at his Love. His eyes caressed the brown, bushy beard, the unkempt black mane, the facial scars, the axe sticking out of his fore – Nori punched him in the nose as retaliation, and Ori went to the business of beating his brother up.
Ori couldn't let people snooping in his PERSONAL diary go thinking that he was a wimp after all, couldn't he? They would get a terrible idea of him then. Even though he did wear far too many knits.