Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate and New Line Cinema.

Dedicated: For Tamuril2.


An Elf in Erebor

I.

"Rejected."

"Rejected!"

Gloin looked up from his ledger and peered over his glasses. "Most unfortunate."

"But my previous three requests for loans were granted!" his sixth cousin twice removed protested.

"Uh-huh."

"I am in good standing with regards to my debt!"

"Aye."

"Then what is wrong?!"

"You've broken clause seventy-three of your contract."

"Huh?"

"You are not in good standing with your creditor."

"Come, come cousin! You and I are in perfect standing!" he roared with laughter.

"Yes." Gloin smiled. "Other than for that scene you caused at the ball: insulting the elf, your boy tripping him and making him fall into the bunch bowl."

"I don't understand what the arrogant twig prince has to do with any of this."

"Oh, didn't I tell you? The 'arrogant twig prince' is part of my family. He's staying in Erebor." Gloin's smile changed to a grin encompassing his whole face, all teeth flashing; it was a scary grin.

The other dwarf gulped audibly.

"Hence the contract is broken, and so your request is rejected," he declared gleefully.


II.

"Take it back," Gimli growled, planting himself firmly in front of the five dwarves.

The leader of the group arched an eyebrow and gave him a defiant smile. "But it is true! Menu rukhas—"

Gimli lowered his head and charged, barreling into the dwarf's chest and sending them crashing to the ground. He didn't think of his weapons, instinctively swinging his fists, red-hot anger pulsing through him. How dare

"GIMLI!"

Both dwarves froze. Gimli felt a bit of grim smugness as he took in his opponent's bloodied nose, black eye, and wavering expression. He released the other and got to his feet.

"Go," he ordered with a glare.

The dark-haired dwarf barely looked at him before taking off with his friends.

Spinning on his heel, Gimli looked at a wide-eyed Legolas lingering a little ways back.

"You didn't help," he grumbled.

The elf blinked. "They…they are your people," he said tentatively.

Sighing Gimli gave him a pointed look. "And you are now family. Do not forget that."

Cheeks turning red, Legolas's expression became shy and warm. The red-haired dwarf puffed up and wordlessly led his friend on their way.


III.

"So it is true then, my dear?"

"True?"

"That Gloin of all people has taken in that giant of a ghost tree hugger?!"

Gloin's wife flushed under her beard when twelve pairs of eyes – confused, shocked, accusing – fastened on her. "He is nothing of the sort!" she hastened to reassure in her calming fashion.

The dwarf woman sniffed. "'Tis what my husband says. And I have heard much worse from others."

Worry filled Vis's face. Leaning forward, she spoke in a lowered, urgent voice. "My lady, I advise you tell your husband to please be careful. Prince Legolas is a ward of the House of Durin now, thus falling under the king's protection. If he hears of such insults, well…"

"Oh!" the old dame breathed, turning pale. "Eh, I-I thank you. Please excuse me!"

The other dwarven women spluttered apologies and explanations, and within two minutes Gloin's wife was alone in the parlor. Chuckling darkly, she nodded in satisfaction and drank the rest of her tea.


IV.

"Truly, this is not necessary," Legolas protested for the fifth time.

Vis hummed noncommittedly, continuing to fuss over the fresh bandage on his shoulder.

Gloin rubbed his brow. "Aye, if you hadn't injured your shoulder again—"

"—in a duel so soon after being given a clean bill of health!" Gimli jumped in hysterically.

"I won!"

"Really, if you hadn't disrupted the Yule gift exchange by slapping that elf from Rivendell with your glove and ordering him to fight, none of this would be necessary," Gloin dryly remarked.

The prince glanced at his shoulder. "It is worth it," he stated firmly, eyes flashing.

Vis helped him put on a fresh tunic. "Legolas…"

"He insulted you!" he burst out. "Insulted the family, it was not to be borne."

There was a minute of startled silence.

Gloin grunted. "Well done," he murmured, unmistakable approval in his tone.

His wife beamed happily. "Our Legolas."

Gimli snuggled into the tall creature's side. "Crazy elf."

Smiling Legolas closed his eyes. For the first time in a long while he felt he was home.

THE END