A gap-filler in verse for what happened to Gimli in the Caverns of Helm's Deep.
His head is aching; someone's hand
Is reaching down to help him stand.
Eomer. Gimli tries to clear
His head of battle noise, still near:
A roar, a crash, a dying cry,
Thunder rumbling in the sky.
The battle rages all around,
He stumbles, Orc dead on the ground.
He's slain it, yet he's not unharmed,
The Orc he's killed was fierce and armed.
A single slash had struck his head
Before the dwarf struck his foe dead.
His vision clears, but still there's pain,
Eomer comes midst all the slain,
Concerned, he sees Gimli's not well.
"You're hurt. How badly I can't tell.
"Yet if we hope your life to save
Come quickly now, to Helm's Deep Cave."
The battle slows, at least for now,
Eomer looks at Gimli's brow.
His own is furrowed, yet he calls
For help to make it to the halls.
When they arrive and pass the door,
Though hurt, his jaw drops to the floor.
Such beauty Gimli's never seen,
The columns glimmer with the sheen
Of dim light shining on the pools,
As if the stone is made of jewels.
"What is this place?" he asks in awe,
"The like of it I never saw."
"These are but caverns where we flee
"In time of war, yet I agree,"
Says Eomer, as in they go,
"Its beauty is greater than any I know."
His wound is now tended, yet pain is still there,
But gazing around him Gimli doesn't care.
As finally daytime is rounding the bend,
His hurt feels much better; it's starting to mend.
Yet when all those with him leave to face Sun's glow,
He follows quite slowly, reluctant to go.
His thoughts are now busy, when out of the blue,
An Elf shouts with joy. His reply: "Forty-two!"
Ah, that was so incredibly satisfying. What did you think?