Here it comes, the disclaimer. As you all know by now, all this belongs to
Tolkien, I'm just borrowing his characters for a while. (
This is my first fic, so do be kind and review. I'll update as often as possible. Ciao, and have fun.
Chapter One
Gimli, son of Gloin, was one very unhappy dwarf. He had accompanied his father to Rivendell simply because he did not trust anyone else to guard his father's back against the elves. What he did not expect was having to sit in on all the council meetings his father had to attend. As Gloin's son, Gimli was obliged to attend, something he did very reluctantly. Besides, the meetings were always flooded with elves.
Gimli snorted. He could stand men. In fact, he had no objections to being stuck in the meetings with them. Even extremely long and boring ones. His father had had various treaties with men for years and Gimli was used to their presence. But having to converse civilly with the fairfolk for several hours for almost a week now had been highly taxing.
The Lord Elrond he could bear. He was, after all, a warrior deserving of respect. The blond haired elf and his dark haired companion, apparently Elrond's advisors, he could tolerate, albeit barely. Another warrior by reputation, the Lord Glorfindel he held in partial respect.
Yes, the dwarf thought sourly as another war whoop sounded from beyond the trees. What really annoyed him were three of the younger elves in attendance. Gimli had always been inclined to think of elves as being terribly flippant and childish. Those three had served to further strengthen his beliefs.
Besides, the dwarf had had a bad run-in with the three not long after his arrival at Rivendell. Flippant, childish, and utterly rude, Gimli thought furiously, his hand straying to his beard which had been stained green just a few days before.
Elrond's eldest son, Elladan, as Gimli recalled had made an effort to apologise to the furious dwarf. As well an effort as any elf would have given anyway. The dark-haired elf had apologised profusely, his eyes twinkling as he tried to hold in his laughter. The insincerity of it rankled at the dwarf. The other twin had been no where to be seen, having disappeared the minute the dwarf came charging up.
Mirkwood's blond prince had remained serious and almost as dignified as the elven maidens had sworn him to be, though he was doubtless as amused as his elven friend. After explaining that the stains were a product of some obscure elvish herb and therefore temporarily permanent, the Prince and his friend had retreated hastily, having seen Rivendell's Lord approaching.
Gimli's sole comfort that day had been that the twin brats and the Prince had been put to work under the Lord Glorfindel polishing the armoury. It had taken them three days, by which time the green had been washed out of Gimli's beard and his temper subsided considerably.
The dwarf snorted as another loud whoop sounded from the archery grounds. Elves. The sooner the meetings ended and the sooner he could return home the better.
Elladan laughed in delight as the second arrow split the first, right in the centre of the target. Elrohir had been trying to beat the Prince of Mirkwood in archery for the entire morning. The younger twin had been completely unsuccessful thus far. The two had been at it since the first time the twins visited Mirkwood nearly a thousand years ago. So far, Elrohir had not won and the informal competition had continued.
The idea of losing to someone younger and less experienced than himself had not appealed to Elrohir. Elladan, on the other hand, had accepted the Prince's natural talent with good grace and admitted his defeat.
Releasing yet another arrow, Legolas watched modestly as his third arrow embedded itself in the centre of the target once more. Elladan whooped. "Give it up, brother; the Prince is just too good."
Giving his brother a dark glare, Elrohir pulled the arrow back and released it, watching in annoyance as it thudded into the wood next to Legolas' earlier three arrows. Turning his dark gaze to the Prince of Mirkwood who merely gazed back innocently at him, Elrohir threw his hands up in the air. "How does he manage it?"
Legolas grinned slightly. "That is why, mellonamin, you're a Noldor elf and I'm not. We Silvans have always been talented in archery." As Elladan's mouth opened, Legolas hastily added, "I know, I'm half Sindar. But I was speaking about my people. Come to Mirkwood again, I'll show you how well they shoot."
Looking out across the field, Legolas sighed. Aragorn had been missing from sight ever since they had arrived in Imladris a week ago. He highly suspected that it had to do with the Lady Arwen being in Imladris. When she had been still in Lothlorien, Aragorn had not spent half the time away from his friends as he did now.
As though reading Legolas' thoughts, Elladan nodded, grinning slightly. "Estel's at it again. Ada had to lock Arwen's door at night, to keep him from getting in. What father has yet to realise however, is that Estel picks the lock all the same." Glancing at his twin, Elladan smiled slightly sadly. They both knew what Arwen's choosing to be with Estel would mean and while neither was particularly happy with that choice, they would not deny their sister and foster-brother their happiness.
Realising what the twins were thinking about, Legolas shook his head slightly, saying in a light tone. "When the time comes it will and Arwen will still be with you in your hearts forever." The Prince could not imagine any elf giving up their immortality for the love they had for a mortal, although he had heard of many instances. The thought of the Lady Arwen growing old and eventually dying was something which shook him. For that reason, the three elves seldom discussed the matter.
Hearing the gong, the elves grimaced and hurried to clean up before heading to the council hall. They had been warned not to be late again and they highly doubted they would be excused for being tardy for the second time in two days.
This is my first fic, so do be kind and review. I'll update as often as possible. Ciao, and have fun.
Chapter One
Gimli, son of Gloin, was one very unhappy dwarf. He had accompanied his father to Rivendell simply because he did not trust anyone else to guard his father's back against the elves. What he did not expect was having to sit in on all the council meetings his father had to attend. As Gloin's son, Gimli was obliged to attend, something he did very reluctantly. Besides, the meetings were always flooded with elves.
Gimli snorted. He could stand men. In fact, he had no objections to being stuck in the meetings with them. Even extremely long and boring ones. His father had had various treaties with men for years and Gimli was used to their presence. But having to converse civilly with the fairfolk for several hours for almost a week now had been highly taxing.
The Lord Elrond he could bear. He was, after all, a warrior deserving of respect. The blond haired elf and his dark haired companion, apparently Elrond's advisors, he could tolerate, albeit barely. Another warrior by reputation, the Lord Glorfindel he held in partial respect.
Yes, the dwarf thought sourly as another war whoop sounded from beyond the trees. What really annoyed him were three of the younger elves in attendance. Gimli had always been inclined to think of elves as being terribly flippant and childish. Those three had served to further strengthen his beliefs.
Besides, the dwarf had had a bad run-in with the three not long after his arrival at Rivendell. Flippant, childish, and utterly rude, Gimli thought furiously, his hand straying to his beard which had been stained green just a few days before.
Elrond's eldest son, Elladan, as Gimli recalled had made an effort to apologise to the furious dwarf. As well an effort as any elf would have given anyway. The dark-haired elf had apologised profusely, his eyes twinkling as he tried to hold in his laughter. The insincerity of it rankled at the dwarf. The other twin had been no where to be seen, having disappeared the minute the dwarf came charging up.
Mirkwood's blond prince had remained serious and almost as dignified as the elven maidens had sworn him to be, though he was doubtless as amused as his elven friend. After explaining that the stains were a product of some obscure elvish herb and therefore temporarily permanent, the Prince and his friend had retreated hastily, having seen Rivendell's Lord approaching.
Gimli's sole comfort that day had been that the twin brats and the Prince had been put to work under the Lord Glorfindel polishing the armoury. It had taken them three days, by which time the green had been washed out of Gimli's beard and his temper subsided considerably.
The dwarf snorted as another loud whoop sounded from the archery grounds. Elves. The sooner the meetings ended and the sooner he could return home the better.
Elladan laughed in delight as the second arrow split the first, right in the centre of the target. Elrohir had been trying to beat the Prince of Mirkwood in archery for the entire morning. The younger twin had been completely unsuccessful thus far. The two had been at it since the first time the twins visited Mirkwood nearly a thousand years ago. So far, Elrohir had not won and the informal competition had continued.
The idea of losing to someone younger and less experienced than himself had not appealed to Elrohir. Elladan, on the other hand, had accepted the Prince's natural talent with good grace and admitted his defeat.
Releasing yet another arrow, Legolas watched modestly as his third arrow embedded itself in the centre of the target once more. Elladan whooped. "Give it up, brother; the Prince is just too good."
Giving his brother a dark glare, Elrohir pulled the arrow back and released it, watching in annoyance as it thudded into the wood next to Legolas' earlier three arrows. Turning his dark gaze to the Prince of Mirkwood who merely gazed back innocently at him, Elrohir threw his hands up in the air. "How does he manage it?"
Legolas grinned slightly. "That is why, mellonamin, you're a Noldor elf and I'm not. We Silvans have always been talented in archery." As Elladan's mouth opened, Legolas hastily added, "I know, I'm half Sindar. But I was speaking about my people. Come to Mirkwood again, I'll show you how well they shoot."
Looking out across the field, Legolas sighed. Aragorn had been missing from sight ever since they had arrived in Imladris a week ago. He highly suspected that it had to do with the Lady Arwen being in Imladris. When she had been still in Lothlorien, Aragorn had not spent half the time away from his friends as he did now.
As though reading Legolas' thoughts, Elladan nodded, grinning slightly. "Estel's at it again. Ada had to lock Arwen's door at night, to keep him from getting in. What father has yet to realise however, is that Estel picks the lock all the same." Glancing at his twin, Elladan smiled slightly sadly. They both knew what Arwen's choosing to be with Estel would mean and while neither was particularly happy with that choice, they would not deny their sister and foster-brother their happiness.
Realising what the twins were thinking about, Legolas shook his head slightly, saying in a light tone. "When the time comes it will and Arwen will still be with you in your hearts forever." The Prince could not imagine any elf giving up their immortality for the love they had for a mortal, although he had heard of many instances. The thought of the Lady Arwen growing old and eventually dying was something which shook him. For that reason, the three elves seldom discussed the matter.
Hearing the gong, the elves grimaced and hurried to clean up before heading to the council hall. They had been warned not to be late again and they highly doubted they would be excused for being tardy for the second time in two days.