It took a lot to wake Gimli Durin at three in the morning, particularly with a thunderstorm raging outside his farmhouse. It had been nearly twenty minutes before he realized the insistent honking from the road was real, and the redheaded blacksmith quickly jumped out of bed, yanking torn jeans over his boxers and stuffing his feet into muddy work boots.
The car was a red convertible with its hood down, despite the pouring rain and lightning. It sat in the middle of the road, right in front of a huge felled tree. A lanky blond man was sitting in the driver's seat, and was yelling at the tree to "hurry up, the light's been green for ages."
Gimli ran up to the side of the car.
"Sir!" he called, his voice cracking with sleep. "Sir, are you ok?"
The blond looked at him and yelled "Why are you in the middle of the road? Surely you know that is not safe." His speech was slurred, and Gimli could smell the wine on his breath even through the rain.
Grumbling, Gimli said, "How about you come inside, sir?"
Giving him a slightly confused look, the man opened his door and stepped out, sloshing through a puddle. Gimli grabbed for the blond, helped him to get his balance, and walked him up to the steps. After tripping walking up to the porch, the man stumbled over the doorjam and fell fast asleep, leaning heavily on Gimli.
Gimli rolled his eyes and tilted the blond so that he could carry him the rest of the way inside.
