A silly, tongue-in-cheek fic about Gimli. Written in the hour of the morning before breakfast and after 3 hours of webpage-making. I don't promise anything; I was bored. Title: The TRUE Problems of a Warrior - Dwarf Author: silver-tear-crystals Genre: Humor Rating: PG (mild swearing) Copyright: **checks** Nope, still not mine. Damnit.

Let me apologize in advance for this story. Don't judge me on, it pweeeeeease? If you had any respect for my writing whatsoever (what respect!?) then don't let it be simmered down to nothing cause of this. Written ages ago, with a very un-clear head. Oh I should have never published this.. ( LOL!

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Ugh. So much water. Dwarfs are not meant for spending so long on rivers. Auduin or not I'm glad to be off the damn boat.

Hmm. Hungry. Must go annoy Aragorn about cooking something. Preferably, something fresh. Fresh and just killed.

Lookit that! Those scummy human types! Ignore me, will he? Trot off to see see if Frodo needs anything, will he? Pervy hobbit fancier!

Fine, then. Will go annoy Boromir: looks much like Aragorn and can't tell the difference anyway. Maybe he'll do something about the food.

THAT'S IT! What do I have to do around here to get noticed? Helloooo? Stupid human types, going off to hide behind their sheilds and look scurvy. And now that I come to mention it, elves are pretty damn annoying too! Prancing around and flickering their hair and stealing my limelight by killing lots of orcs in Moria when it was MY sobbing, heroic moment!

And Hobbits. Hobbits with their huge, creepy eyes and hurt puppy-dog looks and comic relief that's not funny.

And Wizards. Wizards with pointy hats that pay lots of attention to Hobbits just for owning some cheap gold ring! DAMN IT!

I am Gimli, son of Gloin, NOTICE ME PEOPLE! Look, I can swing my axe.. I HAVE PLAITED HAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Why aren't I speeeeecia-al-alllll???

BLAHHHGTHTYIEHENJGH**********UGHUGHUGHUGHUGH!!! I don't suppose it helps my mental state of mind that Pippin just asked me how I got here, who I am, and have I seen the frying pan, it was here a minute ago.

I will go and sit in that corner, over there. No one will notice me until too late, like, when I need to save their bootays from a herd of orcs.

Oh well.

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Hey, I said it was odd. Feel free to review, shucks, feel free to send a huge message full of "this is pure, un-sheiled, and utterly wrong pile of poo-poo" (hee-hee, funny words. Ok, I'm serious, who took my coffee?) I won't mind. After all, this was not mean to be a work of art. It wasn't even meant to be funnee.

silver-tear-crystals