A/N: Thanks to all the nice people who reviewed, and special thanks to Angel 110 for giving me the idea for this chapter.
Enjoy!
What would Gimli do for a Klondike Bar?
Gimli mills about uneasily in his room in Rivendel. It's the night before the Council of Elrond, and the outdoorsy nature of Imladris is making him uncomfortable.
"Too many trees…" he mumbles to himself, stepping out onto his balcony. "I don't understand how those elves can stand it!"
As he stood talking to himself, and strangely dressed man steps out of the shadows behind him and joins the dwarf on the balcony.
"Hello!" he says cheerfully, "You're Gimli son of Gloin, correct?"
"Yes…." the dwarf answers slowly, raising an eyebrow delicately, wondering how this strange man had gotten into his quarters. "And you would be…"
The man pretends not to hear the question. "I've been sent by the public with a question for you. Gimli, would you shave off your beard for a Klondike Bar?"
Gimli's hand reaches unconsciously for his chin. "Shave off my beard? Are you daft?"
The man shrugs. "No, just curious. Would you do it?"
The dwarf shakes his head vigorously. "It would be an insult to my dwarven pride!" he exclaims vehemently.
"Well, it's you loss," the man sighs, leaning down to wave a foil covered ice cream bar in front of his nose. "They're quite delectable." He snaps his fingers and an annoyingly annoying jingle fills the air:
"For that chocolaty coated
Ice cream loaded
Big and thick
No room for a stick
What would you do-oo-oo…
For a Klondike Bar?"
Gimli looks around for the source of the music, but finding nothing, he stares at the treat sideways, trying not to show his interest. He is quite a big chocolate fan, actually, but no one else really knows it. The ice cream looks delicious, but is it worth it…
"Here, try a piece," the man suggests, handing the dwarf a bit of chocolate. His eyes light up as he tastes it. The man grins. "I've got a razor right here," he says, handing over the implement. .
"Alright…" Gimli says slowly, keeping his eyes on the chocolate. It takes him quite a while to detach the mass of matted hair that grew on his chin off, but it was all off in the end, and the dwarf was left standing sadly in a large pile of hair. He seems rather diminished without the growth on his face, but you can see that he actually has some nice features under all of it.
"Just think: the worst that can happen is that you'll be mistaken for a hobbit!" the man cajoles. Gimli blanches, the part where his beard used to be turning purple. The man quickly pulls him outside, handing him the ice cream snack.
A small group of dwarves huddle together on a small platform close to the ground, trying to block out all the elvin-ness of Imladris. They didn't want to be here, but they really had no choice. The last time they had refused one of Elrond's invitations to a get together, the elvin lord had used Vilya to make all their beards fall out. And speaking of no beards…
"Aule, what did that boy do!?" cried Gloin as he saw his son, quite beardless, munching happily on an ice cream bar. Gimli starts and looks up, caught.
"Umm, would you like a piece?" he offers nervously, holding out a small piece of chocolate. His father snorts and turns away, embarrassed for his son. Gimli shrugs and meanders off into the woods of Rivendel, somehow feeling a bit more happy in the trees then he had been earlier.
Enjoy!
What would Gimli do for a Klondike Bar?
Gimli mills about uneasily in his room in Rivendel. It's the night before the Council of Elrond, and the outdoorsy nature of Imladris is making him uncomfortable.
"Too many trees…" he mumbles to himself, stepping out onto his balcony. "I don't understand how those elves can stand it!"
As he stood talking to himself, and strangely dressed man steps out of the shadows behind him and joins the dwarf on the balcony.
"Hello!" he says cheerfully, "You're Gimli son of Gloin, correct?"
"Yes…." the dwarf answers slowly, raising an eyebrow delicately, wondering how this strange man had gotten into his quarters. "And you would be…"
The man pretends not to hear the question. "I've been sent by the public with a question for you. Gimli, would you shave off your beard for a Klondike Bar?"
Gimli's hand reaches unconsciously for his chin. "Shave off my beard? Are you daft?"
The man shrugs. "No, just curious. Would you do it?"
The dwarf shakes his head vigorously. "It would be an insult to my dwarven pride!" he exclaims vehemently.
"Well, it's you loss," the man sighs, leaning down to wave a foil covered ice cream bar in front of his nose. "They're quite delectable." He snaps his fingers and an annoyingly annoying jingle fills the air:
"For that chocolaty coated
Ice cream loaded
Big and thick
No room for a stick
What would you do-oo-oo…
For a Klondike Bar?"
Gimli looks around for the source of the music, but finding nothing, he stares at the treat sideways, trying not to show his interest. He is quite a big chocolate fan, actually, but no one else really knows it. The ice cream looks delicious, but is it worth it…
"Here, try a piece," the man suggests, handing the dwarf a bit of chocolate. His eyes light up as he tastes it. The man grins. "I've got a razor right here," he says, handing over the implement. .
"Alright…" Gimli says slowly, keeping his eyes on the chocolate. It takes him quite a while to detach the mass of matted hair that grew on his chin off, but it was all off in the end, and the dwarf was left standing sadly in a large pile of hair. He seems rather diminished without the growth on his face, but you can see that he actually has some nice features under all of it.
"Just think: the worst that can happen is that you'll be mistaken for a hobbit!" the man cajoles. Gimli blanches, the part where his beard used to be turning purple. The man quickly pulls him outside, handing him the ice cream snack.
A small group of dwarves huddle together on a small platform close to the ground, trying to block out all the elvin-ness of Imladris. They didn't want to be here, but they really had no choice. The last time they had refused one of Elrond's invitations to a get together, the elvin lord had used Vilya to make all their beards fall out. And speaking of no beards…
"Aule, what did that boy do!?" cried Gloin as he saw his son, quite beardless, munching happily on an ice cream bar. Gimli starts and looks up, caught.
"Umm, would you like a piece?" he offers nervously, holding out a small piece of chocolate. His father snorts and turns away, embarrassed for his son. Gimli shrugs and meanders off into the woods of Rivendel, somehow feeling a bit more happy in the trees then he had been earlier.