This short one-shot is a gift for Farflung. Farflung, you will see why by the time you reach the end of the story!
Dragonfly, I skipped the beta stage because I was in a dreadful hurry. You, too, will see why when you reach the end of the story!
Gold Inlay
Gimli snarled.
Now it is true that Gimli was famous for his gruffness, but he was not given to snarling. Legolas stared at him in frank amazement.
"What'er you lookin' at?" Gimli, as mentioned before, snarled.
"I am looking at you," Legolas replied with the directness that Gimli usually found disarming. Today, though, the dwarf apparently found it irritating.
"I know yer lookin' at me! Why are lookin' at me, that's what I want to know?"
"I am looking at you because you are snarling."
"Snarling!" snarled Gimli. "Snarling! I don't snarl."
"I beg your pardon, but you just did it again."
"Did not!"
"You did."
"Did not!"
'Excuse me," interrupted Aragorn, putting his head in at the door, "but did I just hear a wolf within?"
Long ago, when Legolas first set out as one of the Fellowship of the Nine, he had never overlooked an opportunity to triumph at the expense of Gimli. There were times when the sniping between Elf and Dwarf made Gandalf the Wizard swear that the company of Orcs would be preferable. That was long ago, however, so although Legolas could have crowed 'I told you so' (or its Middle-earth equivalent), he remained silent. Aragorn looked quizzically between the self-possessed Elf and the red-faced Dwarf.
"I thought you would be interested in knowing that Faramir and Eowyn have arrived from Ithilien. They will be staying for a fortnight."
Aragorn paused and looked expectantly at the two. He had supposed Gimli in particular would show some excitement. The gruff Dwarf had always had a soft-spot for the bold Shield-Maiden from Rohan.
"Feisty, that one," he had said approvingly soon after meeting her. "Has some skill with a sword, and I do believe she could wield an axe with some effect."
Today, however, Gimli merely grunted at the news that Eowyn and her husband had come to visit Minas Tirith. Aragorn and Legolas exchanged glances.
"Gimli," said Aragorn, "is there anything troubling you?"
"Mmph," grunted the Dwarf.
"Is your bed comfortable?"
"Mmph."
"The food to your liking?"
"Mmph."
"Beer to your taste—and in sufficient quantity?"
"Mmph."
Aragorn paused, baffled. Then another possibility occurred to him.
"Pipe-weed!" he exclaimed. "Have you enough pipe-weed?"
Legolas spoke then.
"Truly, Aragorn," he said, wrinkling his nose, "he has more than enough of that vile herb. Cannot you smell how he reeks of it?"
Gimli glared at the Elf but said nothing.
Defeated, Aragorn abandoned the attempt to find the cause of the Dwarf's unhappiness.
"I must go and join Arwen in making ready to host our guests at dinner. I trust you will both attend?"
"Of course, Aragorn," Legolas assured the King. Gimli, however, merely glowered, and Aragorn left wondering if the Dwarf would indeed put in an appearance at dinner.
When the time came, however, Gimli was in his place next to Legolas. He was even surlier than he had been earlier, however, and after awhile Faramir gave up trying to engage him in conversation. Eowyn, though, was not so easily discouraged.
"Come now, Master Dwarf," she laughed. "You do not frighten me with your scowls. What ails you, to make such dreadful faces?"
"Oof-athe," he mumbled out of one side of his mouth.
"What is that you say?" she asked.
"Oof. Athe."
"I do not understand," she said, puzzled.
To the amazement of all, tears came to the Dwarf's eyes. He pointed to his mouth.
"I haf a ooth-athe."
"A tooth-ache," exclaimed Eowyn, suddenly understanding. "My poor Gimli. It must pain you dreadfully."
Gimli nodded sadly.
"I wonder what my father would do were he here," said Arwen. "I do not recall him ever speaking of treatments for the tooth-ache. It is not something from which Elves generally suffer."
"I remember something about such matters," said Aragorn. "When I was little, I had a toothache in one of my baby teeth. I remember that Elrond packed it with athelas to blunt the pain. Then, when the tooth as a matter of course began to loosen, he drew it. Gimli, perhaps we ought to draw your tooth."
"No! no! mouf cowapse!"
"I think he means," interpreted Legolas, "that the structure of his jaw will suffer should a tooth be drawn."
"But, Gimli," said Eowyn, "the pain will only worsen. What would you have us do?"
"Dwa'fs twill teef," Gimli tried to explain, "an fill'em wi' silfa oah colt oah ewen nithfil."
Legolas had a sudden insight.
"Ah," he exclaimed, "now I know why the Dwarves who visited Lake-town had gold and silver and mithril inlaid in their teeth! It was no mere adornment, as I thought at the time, but instead the Dwarves' way of dealing with corrupted teeth. They remove the center of the tooth and replace it with metal. How very clever!"
"Yeth!" exclaimed the Dwarf, who smiled for the first time that day. It was a crooked smile, but everyone was delighted to see such a hopeful sign. Suddenly, however, Gimli again looked sad.
"No Dwa'fs awoun' heah, an' I canna twill me own teef!"
The table fell silent. At the behest of Gimli, Dwarves had come to Minas Tirith to repair its stonework, damaged in the siege, but that task having been completed, they had returned to their homes in the north. It would be a journey of many days to reach a settlement of Dwarves.
"It seems to me," Aragorn said at last, "that what Gimli describes requires skills very like those of a jeweler. Perhaps we could find one here willing to assay the task."
"But, Aragorn," Arwen objected, "it must hurt dreadfully to have one's tooth drilled." She turned to Gimli. "However will you stand the pain?"
Gimli gave a lopsided grin.
"Beah! Los an' los o' beah."
Now Aragorn was smiling.
"Well, then, Gimli, if we provide you with lots and lots of beer, will you let one of our jewelers work upon your tooth?"
"Yeth, Awagohn!"
The next night Gimli appeared at the table with a mouth that glittered when he smiled, which was rather more often than formerly. Indeed, Legolas suspected the Dwarf was given to smiling so frequently so that he might show off his gold-filled molar. Of course, Gimli was still Gimli: more often than not he grumbled and grunted, glared and glowered. Still, never, ever again was he heard to snarl.
Farflung, I hope the dentist is able to get to the bottom of things, so to speak. Get well and stay well!