Disclaimer: The Hobbit, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.
From Arguing to Courting
The cloud of bliss hovering over Gloin crumbles as he gradually picks up Gimli's and the princling's voices from the other side of the large room, rising in yet another disagreement. Smile morphing into a scowl, the dwarf cracks open one eye to peer at the two.
What has he done to deserve this? Never has he seen or heard of anything close to friendship developing between a dwarf and elf before. For it to happen between his only son and that elf…!
The faint shaking of the body in his arms draws Gloin's attention, and he glances down worriedly. "Little Sapphire, are you well?" he questions.
A small face looks up at him. Brown curls bounce as the lad nods, and giggles loudly. "Legolas and Gimli are funny!" Frodo proclaims, beaming broadly.
The dwarf tilts his head. "Are they?" At least someone thinks so. He glances briefly to his left, discovers his cousins also disapprovingly observing Gimli and Prince Legolas, before looking back at the tiny hobbit.
Frodo tangles his in fingers in Gloin's red beard, his expression now curious. "Is Gimli going to court Legolas?"
It takes a second for the question to sink in, then the dwarf's face pales as his mouth drops open and his eyes round owlishly. It takes all his willpower not to bellow in the little one's face; he senses more than sees Dwalin spit out his drink, Thorin nearly pass out in a dead faint, eyes turn to him in astonishment. And Frodo waits patiently, expectantly.
Swallowing hard, the dwarf says in a hoarse voice, "No! No, he is not."
The lad wrinkles his nose. "Oh." He seems puzzled. Then, blue eyes clearing, he settles against Gloin's chest once more until he is comfortable.
"I have a cousin, Laura, who argued all the time with Fosco Took. But then they ended up courting and got married. They still argue a lot," Frodo murmurs around a yawn.
The red-haired dwarf shakes his head, still in a great deal of shock. "No, Frodo," he chokes.
The lad hums, eyes growing heavy despite the spirited argument still going strong. Awkwardly patting him on the head, Gloin catches Balin's eye who winks at him.
At least Gimli isn't a lass, his cousin quickly signs, or else we would be in big trouble!
Gloin forcibly pushes away the horrifying idea. Thank Mahal for small blessings!
THE END