Gimli Galadriel was going to Valinor. This was dire news indeed. I would never see one so fair again in my life. I pulled out the three hairs that Galadriel had given me so many years earlier. An elf and a dwarf; a funny picture, an impossible one, as I then suddenly saw. And yet at one time it did not seem so. At one time there was one who gave hope . And now I was sitting at a balcony in Lothlorien, alone, musing about life and love. Legolas and I were on our way to Minas Tirith, to visit the king, and Legolas insisted we stop here. Of course I wasn't going to stop him. All of a sudden I felt a hand clap my shoulder. Quickly, I shoved the hairs into my pocket.
"Grrrmph. Elves! Always sneaking up, startling people with their 'silent walking'." Legolas chuckled.
"Pardon Master Dwarf, I was just coming to ask you whether you planned on joining your companions for supper, but finding you in this strange contemplative state, I wonder whether that would be a good idea. Pray tell, what are you thinking?"
"Of life and lo-...mmp." I'm sure he didn't mean to say that out loud, for he blushed and grunted.
"Very serious thoughts, for such a night of merriement. Pray, come eat. Mayhap it will do you some good, and return you to sanity?"
"Very well, I will go with you."