Hey'all! I've been going through a real creative spurge (is that actually a
word?) which involves painting, drawing, writing poems etc etc, and then
just now this story came to me! Actually, that's a lie. I've been making it
up all day but WHO CARES!?!?!
Nothing belongs to me, apart from the OC you'll find in this chapter- though I don't like him at all so take him! TAKE HIM AWAY!!!!!
Special thanks to Gimli der Zwerg. my wonderful beta-reader, although I suffered a lot of tantrums about what I did to 'her' Gims!
~~~~~~~~~~
Gimli cursed to himself as he hurried along the crowded streets of Minas Tirith. He was late. He was meant to meet Aragorn, Legolas and Arwen in the palace gardens, because Aragorn had recieved a letter and parcel from the Shire that morning. Gimli had only just been informed of this whilst he was visiting his newly-acquired pony, Sturla, a stocky grey fellow with a thick forelock that covered his eyes, hairy legs and a long tail. Legolas had described him as ungainly, solid and stupid, but Gimli maintained that he was trustworthy, handsome and very intelligent. He appeared to be the only being who maintained this opinion however.
The crowds became unbearable and Gimli began to feel slightly claustrophobic, and, blessing his stature, ducked through the moving forest of legs to wait under an overhanging balcony of a shop until there was room to comfortably make his way. His friends would have to wait.
"Master *Dwarf*?" a dark shadow cast itself over Gimli as he waited patiently, humming 'The Road Goes Ever On and On' under his breath as the bustling men and women swarmed past. Whoever that voice belonged to put a definite sneer onto the word 'Dwarf'.
Gimli raised his eyes, and found himself nose to belt with a very large, bulk of a man. He was dressed all in black, with a thick velvet cloak that seemed to ripple threateningly against the floor, emblazoned with the White Tree of Gondor. His ruddy face was unshaven, with small piggy eyes that glared dangerously at the Dwarf.
"Now," the man stated softly, so Gimli only just caught the words, "Our new Queen is an Elf, as well as the Lord Legolas, and we know many wonderous stories about their kin, but no such stories have I heard about *your* kind, Dwarf!" he spat on the ground by Gimli's feet.
Gimli felt bewildered. What was this mad-man raving about? He had never seen him before in his life, and he began to feel uncomfortable. Instinctively, he put up the mental shield from any feelings of insecurity and stared up at the man.
"I can assure you that I do not know what you are talking about," he spoke simply, but his words seemed to enrage the man.
"Now listen," he snarled, bending down to Gimli's eye-level, "You may fool others that you have a civil tongue in your head, but you don't fool me! I know that your kind are ferocious, savage, uncouth murderers!"
Gimli took a step back, his mouth agape, "What!?"
The man reached out, swift as you like, and grasped Gimli's arm in a grip like iron. Gimli struggled against the large hand and managed to pull free. The man had underestimated the strength of the Dwarf. But the man was a quick learner and a skilled warrior, and swift as any Elf he grasped Gimli's arm, tighter this time, and bent it behind Gimli's back, despite all his valient attempts to free himself, the arm broke with a sickening, yet satisfying, crack.
With a cry of pain, Gimli struggled even more and the man released his arm. With his good hand, Gimli refelxively swung out but found his thick fist blocked my a shovel-like hand. Then the man's own fist connected hard with the side of Gimli's face. The Dwarf saw stars, his eye-sight fading into blackness, but penetrated by small cracks of light.
Using his victims momentary lapse, the attacker punched Gimli again, this time in the chest. Gimli gasped with pain and stumbled, attempting in vain to escape, but the man had closed in on him, like a cat with a mouse. Gimli was completely blocked from daylight. His head swam, he couldn't think clearly, the world seemed to spin around him.
The attacker was merciless and ruthless, driven by madness. He was insane! His fist and hob-nailed boot smashed against Gimli's tender, bruised chest and stomach. Instinctively, the Dwarf curled up as small as possible in an attempt to make himself as small a target as possible.
Eventually, the small, stocky body went limp, and the burly man took Gimli by his long red hair, lifted his head from the ground and, seeing no sign of life, let it drop, and walked off into the crowds as though nothing had happened.
~~~~~~~~
So? Whaddya think? I know I've been using ideas from other stories but this is different! I PROMISE!!!! In a few chapters this will completely turn around! This isn't the beginning of teh main plot, this is a little side- story I put in to keep the story going longer. I made this up in maths, which is torture so that's probably where it came from.
No flames if you please! Review I BEG!!!!
Nothing belongs to me, apart from the OC you'll find in this chapter- though I don't like him at all so take him! TAKE HIM AWAY!!!!!
Special thanks to Gimli der Zwerg. my wonderful beta-reader, although I suffered a lot of tantrums about what I did to 'her' Gims!
~~~~~~~~~~
Gimli cursed to himself as he hurried along the crowded streets of Minas Tirith. He was late. He was meant to meet Aragorn, Legolas and Arwen in the palace gardens, because Aragorn had recieved a letter and parcel from the Shire that morning. Gimli had only just been informed of this whilst he was visiting his newly-acquired pony, Sturla, a stocky grey fellow with a thick forelock that covered his eyes, hairy legs and a long tail. Legolas had described him as ungainly, solid and stupid, but Gimli maintained that he was trustworthy, handsome and very intelligent. He appeared to be the only being who maintained this opinion however.
The crowds became unbearable and Gimli began to feel slightly claustrophobic, and, blessing his stature, ducked through the moving forest of legs to wait under an overhanging balcony of a shop until there was room to comfortably make his way. His friends would have to wait.
"Master *Dwarf*?" a dark shadow cast itself over Gimli as he waited patiently, humming 'The Road Goes Ever On and On' under his breath as the bustling men and women swarmed past. Whoever that voice belonged to put a definite sneer onto the word 'Dwarf'.
Gimli raised his eyes, and found himself nose to belt with a very large, bulk of a man. He was dressed all in black, with a thick velvet cloak that seemed to ripple threateningly against the floor, emblazoned with the White Tree of Gondor. His ruddy face was unshaven, with small piggy eyes that glared dangerously at the Dwarf.
"Now," the man stated softly, so Gimli only just caught the words, "Our new Queen is an Elf, as well as the Lord Legolas, and we know many wonderous stories about their kin, but no such stories have I heard about *your* kind, Dwarf!" he spat on the ground by Gimli's feet.
Gimli felt bewildered. What was this mad-man raving about? He had never seen him before in his life, and he began to feel uncomfortable. Instinctively, he put up the mental shield from any feelings of insecurity and stared up at the man.
"I can assure you that I do not know what you are talking about," he spoke simply, but his words seemed to enrage the man.
"Now listen," he snarled, bending down to Gimli's eye-level, "You may fool others that you have a civil tongue in your head, but you don't fool me! I know that your kind are ferocious, savage, uncouth murderers!"
Gimli took a step back, his mouth agape, "What!?"
The man reached out, swift as you like, and grasped Gimli's arm in a grip like iron. Gimli struggled against the large hand and managed to pull free. The man had underestimated the strength of the Dwarf. But the man was a quick learner and a skilled warrior, and swift as any Elf he grasped Gimli's arm, tighter this time, and bent it behind Gimli's back, despite all his valient attempts to free himself, the arm broke with a sickening, yet satisfying, crack.
With a cry of pain, Gimli struggled even more and the man released his arm. With his good hand, Gimli refelxively swung out but found his thick fist blocked my a shovel-like hand. Then the man's own fist connected hard with the side of Gimli's face. The Dwarf saw stars, his eye-sight fading into blackness, but penetrated by small cracks of light.
Using his victims momentary lapse, the attacker punched Gimli again, this time in the chest. Gimli gasped with pain and stumbled, attempting in vain to escape, but the man had closed in on him, like a cat with a mouse. Gimli was completely blocked from daylight. His head swam, he couldn't think clearly, the world seemed to spin around him.
The attacker was merciless and ruthless, driven by madness. He was insane! His fist and hob-nailed boot smashed against Gimli's tender, bruised chest and stomach. Instinctively, the Dwarf curled up as small as possible in an attempt to make himself as small a target as possible.
Eventually, the small, stocky body went limp, and the burly man took Gimli by his long red hair, lifted his head from the ground and, seeing no sign of life, let it drop, and walked off into the crowds as though nothing had happened.
~~~~~~~~
So? Whaddya think? I know I've been using ideas from other stories but this is different! I PROMISE!!!! In a few chapters this will completely turn around! This isn't the beginning of teh main plot, this is a little side- story I put in to keep the story going longer. I made this up in maths, which is torture so that's probably where it came from.
No flames if you please! Review I BEG!!!!