Day 21: Something you find funny
(Firstly I find it hilarious that Thingol's people called the dwarves "the stunted people" and the men "the sickly people" like, and you wonder why your kingdom didn't have better friends, Thingol.)
Glorfindel finds his sword in the hoard of weapons from Gondolin that the dwarves found, while they were at Rivendell. He was enraged and asked for it back, but they would never have willingly handed it over to an elf, as Dwalin had claimed it.
He tries to get it back and finds out dwarves are tricky, but wins in the end.
Thorin wouldn't let them delay leaving because Dwalin was missing some elven sword, and he was not amused that that was how they had spent their night, so in the end they left without the sword and Glorfindel has his old sword back.
Elrond frowned at Glorfindel when the blond elf sheepishly opened the door to his study.
"My lord, you wishd to see me?" He said.
"Ah, Glorfindel. I hear you gave our guests some trouble?" Elrond raised his eyebrows.
"Well, er...it was my sword!"
"Yes, of this I am aware." Elrond shook his head. "And how did you end up getting it back?
"Well…" Glorfindel blushed. "There were uh, competitions, with the dwarves. I won, fair and square, but they refused to surrender it, and I believe it went missing, but they were really in a hurry to leave, you know, with Saruman and Lady Galadriel here, so they seem to have left without it."
"Ah, and I am certain that was an accident?" Elrond asked.
"I see no other explanation." Glorfindel answered shamelessly. "Really, it is a good thing I found it after they had left, it would be a terrible deed to let this sword go to waste more than it already has."
"And if the dwarves ever end up back here, wishing for it?"
"I fought a Balrog with this sword! You think I can not take out a dwarf?"
"Glorfindel!"
"Sorry, my lord…"
"If you see a dwarf in Imladris again and you can not behave yourself, kindly avoid them. Otherwise, it is not my problem, I suppose." Elrond shook his head. "But Glorfindel, what kind of competitions did you have with the dwarves?"
The blond elf suddenly blushed deep scarlet and started backing away. "Er…. simple stuff, really. If that is all I really must be going."
Elrond made a grab for him as he shot out the door, but Glorfindel was halfway down the hall in a second, and Elrond growled. Now he had to know.
He did not have to wait long, though, for a confused Elladan and Elrohir had just appeared around the corner, in the way Glorfindel had just run through.
"Adar? What did you do to Glorfindel?" Elrohir asked.
"Do you know what it was the dwarves made him do?" Elrond asked as an answer.
"Oh." Elrohir's eyes sparkled.
"That." Elladan giggled.
"We saw the whole thing, but of course he didn't know we were there." Elrohir answered.
"We almost fell out of the tree we were in laughing so hard, more than once." Elladan added. "So, you didn't hear it from us…"
...
Glorfindel had no interest in talking to the dwarves, and when he had to pass their fire he tried his best to stick to the shadows and slide by.
Something caught his eye, though, and he had to stop. The dwarves had found swords, he knew, in a troll hoard, but there was a particular one there that he had not expected to see again.
"Oy! That's mine!" He jumped out of the shadows and made a grab for the sword in the bald dwarf's hand.
"You wish!" The bald dwarf said jumping up, with surprisingly quick reflexes for a dwarf, and moving the sword out of his reach.
"I mean it! In Gondolin, it was my sword!"
"Then why did you abandon it?"
"I died! But I took a Balrog with me." He said, proudly.
The dwarves all roared with disbelieving laughter, and Glorfindel flushed with anger.
"You don't look dead." The fattest one said.
"No, no, he kind of does. Look how pale he is. Hairless, too. And skinny." One who seemed to be called Gloin answered.
"I was reborn. Re-embodied by the Valar for my deeds."
"You expect us to believe that?" The one with the sword said again, and the rest laughed.
"If you knew who you were talking to…" Glorfindel drew himself to full height.
"…It'd still be our sword. Finders, keepers!" Dwalin grinned maliciously.
"Now Dwalin, be nice, we are guests of Lord Elrond and he has treated us well…" The old one started, but he was cut off by jeers from the rest, and Glorfindel drew his sword, the one he had never liked as much as his old Gondolin one.
"I can take on all twelve of you drunk stunted people at once if I have to." He hissed.
"Deal." Dwalin said.
"Er, what is a deal?" Glorfindel briefly wondered how many centuries Elrond's anger would last if he did slay all twelve of his guests. Might be worth the risk.
"You duel all twelve of us and you can have your sword back."
"Deal!" Glorfindel said quickly.
"But!" Dwalin added. "You must take us on two at a time, since you think we are "stunted people" and must not be much of a threat to tall elf-lords like yourself, and every time you lose you must also lose an article of clothing."
"Fine." He ground his teeth. At least it was late enough most Rivendell elves were in bed or in the Hall of Fire, and they likely wouldn't be around to witness this.
"And we pick which items."
"FINE." Glorfindel roared.
This didn't seem like it would be a hard task though, at the time. The dwarves were small, and drunk, and Glorfindel was a centuries old and trained warrior.
But the dwarves, it seemed, did not play fair.
Even with the old dwarf, Balin, saying he wanted no part of this, and insisting that the youngest three, Kili, Fili, and Ori, had no part either, that still left nine.
Glorfindel did manage to take out Gloin and Oin to the point that they surrendered, but that's when they stopped even pretending to play fair.
If he ever managed to disarm a dwarf another not involved in the fight would immediately throw him another weapon, and Glorfindel was again seriously wondering whether it might be worth risking Elrond's wrath to kill or at least injure a few of these dwarves.
Glorfindel began to realize he really should have demanded something from them, too, in the rules of this game. Stupid dwarves. He had stayed as far away from them as possible all his life, how was he to know their tricks? Soon he had lost all his clothes but the leggings and a thin shirt he wore under his robes, and was no longer having any doubts about whether or not he should injure any dwarves.
Last it was Bombur's turn, along with Bofur who was so drunk he could hardly walk and thus was hardly a competitor, and Glorfindel was sure it would be easy to outmaneuver a dwarf of Bombur's size. But instead Bombur just gave a cry and threw all of his weight at Glorfindel, knocking out his breath and pinning the elf beneath his surprisingly heavy mass for one so short.
The dwarves roared their loudest cheer yet, as Bombur stole Glorfindel's current sword and claimed he won, before the elf had even regained the breath to protest.
"We claim your shirt then, too." Dwalin called, and Glorfindel threw it at him, making them all guffaw.
"Fine but I played your game, I get the sword now." Glorfindel stood barefoot and huffed, knowing full well that his current attire, or lack of, was likely ruining his attempt at being intimidating.
"You didn't win, you don't get your sword back!" Bofur called, and then promptly fell off the log he was sitting on.
"You did not say I had to win, you said I had to play." Glorfindel said tightly with effort.
"You elves think you're so tricky, don't you?" Bombur wheezed with laughter. "Besides, we said you had to duel all twelve of us, and four of us didn't even play."
"YOU DISHONEST, MISERABLE, STUNTED LITTLE-"
"You might want to be quieter, lad." Dwalin sneered. "Who knows what elves will come to witness this if they hear you."
Glorfindel lunged for the dwarf, but missed him.
"This is not the end of this!" He shouted, only slightly quieter than before. "Give me my robes so I can leave."
"Not the deal…" Dwalin told him as seriously as possible.
"I SWEAR TO ERU ILUVATAR YOU WILL REGRET THIS." Glorfindel turned and marched away, giving up on dignity.
Glorfindel, luckily, did not run into anyone on his way to Elrond's store of herbs except for one shocked young maid servant who dropped the basket she held and ran when he growled at her. Once in Elrond's store he borrowed a cloak he found, which was better than nothing, at least. He returned to the dwarves fire, and while they were laughing themselves sick over what had just happened, dumped about a year's supply of sleeping potions in their pile of wine and returned to the shadows, waiting.
It didn't take long, a few sips and they started dropping like flies, and Glorfindel moved in to steal back his robes and swords.
"I should cut off their beards…" He growled, but resisted. He settled for using his old sword to cut a single braid of Dwalin's beard and tossing it in the fire. Though it was hardly noticeable in the mass of dwarf hair, and Glorfindel considered having to cut off his hand after touching it, surely the dwarf would notice, and Glorfindel almost wished he would still be around to witness that.
Instead he swept away as quickly as he could, knowing their leader would be back soon, and resolved that any dwarf of this company that he ever met outside of Elrond's house would never even know what hit him.