A/N: I have written this before, actually, under a different title. I never finished it, and this is only actually the same IDEA, not the same story at all. I may use bits and pieces from my old story, so if you recognize something, don't worry, it's all mine.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. It belongs to Tolkien, quite obviously, and he is the only one who could ever have written it. Good thing, too, considering it was his idea.
Prologue
Rivendell once remained peaceful and untouched, sitting in all its lovely innocence. Elves lived in a state of constant merriment, and the Last Homely House was a place of rest and relaxation.
And then it all changed.
The Lord of the Rings was adapted into film, and the horror began.
Stories, so many stories, of Legolas and perfect people of the female gender, falling madly in love while the Fellowship overstayed their welcome in Rivendell.
Havoc was wreaked upon the Elven beauties by American fantasies magically transported to Middle-earth. Sappy love stories with seemingly no end... the horror, the horror.
Until certain Authors decided to torment innocent and unsuspecting characters from The Lord of the Rings, characters that they loved but couldn't help but torture for the sake of their own amusement. They started by targeting other members of the Fellowship, everyone from Gandalf to Merry, but then they moved on to other, more interesting matches... but this is not one of those stories. Those stories, of matches with teenage girls and highly respected men and Elves outside the Fellowship, those are to be told by others.
This is the tale of a Dwarf. The tale of a Dwarf who was tormented in a most unreasonable fashion by a rather cruel Author who decided on a whim to write a story.
This Dwarf was very aware of the danger that lay in Rivendell. He had heard the stories, but he figured the threat lay on Legolas alone. He just decided to stay far away from the Elf, which he would've done anyway. He had no idea what was coming.