Common Death

Gimli looked around the library's entrance wondering where Ana was. For cursing out Odin yesterday she surely deserved to have the mithril piece so soon. Like all rooms that held books and sensitive information the slate-shelved library was lit with Loki's emerald-fire. Off to the right, Loki sat at a table with a huge book open before him and Thor stood looking impatiently over the jotun's shoulder.

When Thor saw him the blond man exclaimed, "Gimli tell Loki that I would rather be fighting a battle than be reading about one !"

"My father told me once that you could not truly be a warrior unless ya had both strength and smarts. Ya'd do well to listen ta Loki, you can learn a bit of strategy from it."

Loki countered, "Ah, but one does not go to Thor for smarts, dear Gimli, one to goes to Thor for strength. I have wondered though just what it is with myself and strong, handsome, bearded men."

That had him very glad that said beard covered his blush, still that wasn't right at all. As he walked over Gimli replied, "It's the beard I tell ya, I ain't a thing to look at without it."

The black-haired prince leaned down and gave him a smile of amused exasperation. "Nonsense, I am sure that you would be perfectly handsome without that beard. On the other hand were I to have a beard surely that would be a hideous thing."

Ana emerged from behind a near-by shelf and answered. "Now that is a bunch of nonsense, Loki, everyone would look, at least, somewhat better if they had a beard. Beards are great equalizers you know. When one is a dwarf one is always treated with respect because no one knows what one's gender is. Still I am sure that Gimli and Thor both can agree that you do not need one."

He stepped up onto the chair's rung before stretching to press his lips against the light-blue skinned cheek. A tingle of cold as he pulled away while agreeing, "Aye, you don't need a beard. Ya'd look funny like a stone what got up 'n said hello to a miner least that's what my grandfather would say."

As he let go of the chair Frodo ran into the library and shouted, "Uncle Gimli got gypped when he got chipped by Uncle Loki !" The dark-brown haired hobbit ran back out while laughing like he was mad.

Garnet-eyes glowed and Loki chuckled then wondered, "Do you think he knows what that really means ?"

"He ain't got a chipping clue, Farin put him up to it I'm sure."

The jotun closed his book before getting up. "I think I'll put this away then go have a short talk with young Farin. Coldness knows he'll be trying to impress Elanor in a round about way. Did you not say earlier that you wanted to meet some of the youngest dwarves, Thor ?"

Thor nodded, "I should like to help."

Not a minute later he and Ana were alone in the library. The red-haired girl looked confused when he pulled her into the shelter of the shelves. When he took out the mithril piece she gasped, "Gimli, where did you get that ?"

Ana stared as the mithril glowed then looked up at him.

Unconsciously, his hand clenched around the piece digging into his palm as he explained. Then he offered it to her saying, "You know that Loki and I care about you and your siblings as if you were our children, Ana. I will never have blood children but with you I need them not. You are as strong as any dwarf can be, always doing what you think is best for others and when you are Lady of the Glittering Caves it will serve you well. Let this piece of mithril be the sign that you, and you alone, are my true heir, Ana. Hide it until you find your own heir then instruct them in doing such until the Glittering Caves are no more and I will be even prouder of my lineage than I am now."

"I am honoured that you think me so worthy, cousin/Lord Gimli." Slowly, Ana reached out before taking the piece and then pressing their foreheads together. "It will be the saddest day of my life when I must take the title, but I will do my best to meet the standards that you have set for the Glittering Caves. I pray that Mahal will let them be such for all the Ages to come."

Perhaps it was time for him to go to Valinor with Legolas as Loki kept gently urging him to do.


Loki stared about himself, he knew not how long he'd been gone whether here it had passed as hundreds years or the thousands that had passed in Jotunheim, but it was enough to see Helm's Deep crumbled into ruins. Just like his proud Jotunheim, Helm's Deep was utterly gone. Not destroyed by angered Vanir because Hrothgar Thorson and Asgard had allied with himself and Jotunheim instead of them, but by natural means - vines, flowers and grass.

Great pieces of the battlements had fallen from the Deeping Wall, so enormous holes had eroded their way through the Hornburg's face and the tower that'd contained the Horn of Helm Hammerhand was no more, only pieces of rubble and rusted, twisted, metal remained.

Labouriously, he sat down, the ground under his feet covered in lush grass and an abundance of meadow flowers. Even by Jotnar standards he was ancient at 15,500 years old. He'd made sure that all the Jotnar who were incapable of fighting and the children had gone to stay with Hrothgar until the attack was over, they had all of Jotunheim's written history with them. The children would resettle on another planet, eventually, repopulate and live on.

He'd had his time, he wanted to see Gimli, Gloin, Brokkr, Ana, Farin, and his other lost dwarven friends again. As he moved to lay on his back a gentle flurry of snow started falling from the grey clouds above. Not long after a familiar gruff voice called, "Eh, Loki, wake up ya no good, lazy Orc !"

Laughter left his lips before he even opened his eyes, "I missed you too, Gimli." Gimli's hair and beard were not white as they would've been at death, but the glossy auburn of youth.

The former Lord of the Glittering Caves gripped his forearm and pulled him into a sitting position. Just like Gimli, he noticed that his youth too had returned. Gloin, Brokrr and Oin stood on his left side with someone he assumed was Groin. On his right stood Ana, Farin, Balin and the others. Now that everyone was together again there was merriment to be had.

Back on Arda, a hare approached the oddly shaped drift in the snow. It was a body of sorts covered in a layer of thick, but clear, diamond-like ice. When the hare touched it with a forepaw the ice and body collapsed to finely powdered snow. The hares might have conquered Arda, but they would never learn that the body was honoured ever after as Loki, Last King and Saviour of Jotunheim.