Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters, however the plot line and some of the places mentioned are all mine.

This is an AU that I'm writing as a follow up to my other story, The Hardest Choice. I've taken some liberties with ages and stuff. I hope you enjoy.

He was not thrilled in the least. Gimli Gloin's son was a dwarf, and very proud of the fact. His beard was not very long yet, but it was growing. He looked up to his father in all that he did. He hoped one day that his beard would be as full and long as his father's. But right now, he severely questioned not only his fathers wisdom but his sanity as well.

"What do you mean I must stay here?" Gimli questioned irately.

"Do not take that tone of voice with me young one." Gloin said. "I mean precisely what I just said. You will stay here." Gloin held up his hand silencing Gimli before he could say another word. "Lord Elrond's scouts have reported that goblin activity in the passes is high this year. You have just begun your study with weapons and are not ready to face such creatures. You will stay here, and you will not cause any trouble. Lord Elrond has been more than gracious for an elf and you will respect him. If I hear that you caused even the slightest bit of trouble while we are gone, you will be working in the kitchens until your beard grows gray." Gloin threatened his son.

Gimli scrunched his face in disgust at the mention of working in the kitchens. That was women's work as far as he was concerned. He decided that it would be unwise to argue with his father further on the matter.

Gloin looked at his son. He was barely into his teens. His beard was starting to grow thick. He had not realized that he would have to leave his son when they had started out on this journey, especially not in the hands of elves. But Gandalf had said that these elves could be trusted. And he trusted Gandalf no matter how crazy the old wizard's ideas might seem.

He sighed. "I do not wish to leave you here any more than you wish to stay here." Gloin said as he looked at his despondent son, "if the way were safer then I would let you come. Perhaps if you were older and had more experience in fighting the vile creatures of this world I would let you follow. But right now, I just want you safe. Please understand Gimli, I just want you safe."

Many dwarves had been lost in the collapse brought on by the last earthshake. He had agreed to take his son with him because he did not want to return to the colony with news of a new home only to find that his son had been lost to another earthshake as well. He had been content to know exactly where his son was and what he was doing by bringing him along. But when they had heard the reports of how many of Saouron's vile creatures stood in their path, he had made the most painful decision of his life, to leave his son in the care of elves.

Gimli looked up to his father upon hearing this. He had never heard his father speak with that tone before. Perhaps there was something out there that really was too dangerous for him. Perhaps he could endure the company of these infernal elves for a little while. He looked into his father's eyes and saw what he knew, that his father loved him and only wanted what was best for him. "Very well." he mumbled, "I will stay." It wasn't as if he was consenting to a choice that had been given him, but it was an affirmation of his father's will.

It seemed as if a heavy worry had been lifted from his father's shoulders when he had said that. For his father seemed to straighten and smiled when he said "Good, I do not expect you to make friends, just be civil."

"How long will you be gone for?" he finally decided to ask, hoping that he would not be stuck in this elf hole for too long.

"I do not know." Gloin answered, "Months, possibly even a year or two. We will be scouting the Gray Mountains for a more stable place for the colony. I think Thorin wants to see if the dragon still holds the Lonely Mountain hostage."

There was silence between father and son for a moment. Then Gloin abruptly broke the silence "Bah, enough of this talk, what say you, shall we go and get some food?"

It was true that the elves that he had met since the company of dwarves had entered the last homely house had been the first and only elves that Gimli had met, and therefore had no basis for his bias, this nevertheless did not stop him from disliking the fey creatures. But if there was one thing about elves that Gimli would never complain about, it was their cooking. So accepting what was to come, he set off with his father toward the dining hall. Perhaps that human boy he had seen earlier would be ok to hang out with.

Estel was not having a good day. First of all his father would not let him accompany his brothers on their hunting trip, then he had forgotten about the history paper that Erestor had assigned, and now he had to attend dinner in his formal robes and just because some dwarves were leaving tomorrow. He sourly changed his comfortable trousers and shirt for the heavy, hot, formal robes that had been neatly laid on his bed by Eleanor. He had just barely shrugged the outer robe over his shoulders where there was a knock on his door. "Yes." he said.

"It would behoove you to rid yourself of that tone before you reach the dining hall." Elladan said. "And brush your hair." Elrohir said with exasperation as he reached for the brush that lay atop the bureau. Elladan and Elrohir were his older brothers, whom he would not be aloud to accompany hunting on the morrow.

"My hair is fine." he stated rather tersely. "Now, now brother dear," Elladan said, "just because you are human is not reason for you to look like one." "Shall I," Elrohir said as he approached his little brother with hairbrush in hand, "or will you cooperate?"

Estel scowled. "Fine." he said as he snatched the brush from his brother's outstretched hand. "Oh, don't be such a sour puss." Elladan said, "You will get to come hunting with us when you are older." "Elladan and I did not get to go hunting until we were well into our late 700's1" Elrohir said.

"Well if everyone lives by that standard, I will never get to go hunting." Estel said with a pout. "Hunting isn't really that exciting." Elladan said to try to assuage his brother. "Yah," Elrohir added, "First you have to track the thing, then you have to sit for hours waiting for the perfect moment and then, after you soot the deer, you have to skin it, and clean it." "And then you have to carry it back before it starts to stink." Elladan followed.

"Besides which," Elrohir said, "you must know how to handle a weapon." The two elves had almost succeeded in talking their brother out of his sour mood, but this was exactly the wrong thing to say.

"I know how to handle a weapon." Estel insisted. It was eerie really, how his brothers did the exact same thing at the exact same time. The two elvin brothers arched one (if you count one per elf then it would be two) finely shaped eyebrow in skepticism. "Estel," Elladan said, "being just barely able to hold a sword without falling over is not handling a weapon."

Estel frowned and folded his arms across his small chest. "For your information I successfully completed the first form last week."

Elladan shook his head, "Come we will be late for dinner, and father will be upset." "I would suggest replacing that scowl with at least a neutral face. Father is on a short temper with the dwarfs around." Elrohir said. With that last remark the twins turned and started toward the dining hall, trusting that if their younger brother knew what was best for him that he would follow, which he did. All the way to the dining hall mimicking, with little flattery as children often do, the conversation that he had just had with his elder siblings.

1 I'm figuring about 100 human years is about 2 elf aging years