Gimli's Dilemma.

Gimli didn't know what had happened, only that the King of Mirkwood had sailed West and left nothing but a small bundle of a baby and its mother behind.

A few hundred years passed by in a blur and the baby grew into a fine looking Elf Prince. To some shock and the horror of all, his mother had ruled the forest and its Elvish inhabitants single handedly. No one knew her name.

A creature called Gollum was left in the Prince's care, but it escaped. He had been yelled at by his mother to go to Rivendell and report this happening. A thing he had promised to do when the gangly creature was given over to him.

On the way to Rivendell, and unknown to him, his mother was attacked and killed, though it was a rather quick funeral....not even a name could be erected on her grave...

The Prince was commonly known as Legolas Greenleaf, a name that bothered him to no end. Why did everyone have to insist on calling him by both his name in Sindarin and then in the common language? It was either that or Leggy, a name that made him shudder every time he heard it. Sure he had long legs but....

Gimli had gone to Rivendell with his father and, with no persuasion whatsoever, had been thrust into a Fellowship that of all things included a snotty nosed Elf Prince. Before they had left, Legolas had received the sad news of his dearly loved mother's death. She had been killed by a myriad of things...Orcs, spiders, wargs....poisoning, stabbing, mauling. The whole nine yards on ways to die in Mirkwood. No one realised that the real cause of death was that she threw herself into the river and drowned.

The fellowship then had to put up with the Elf singing laments the entire way to Mordor, or so it seemed. If that wasn't bad enough, the Elf glowed in the dark! Gimli wondered if there was an off switch somewhere. He had already tried blowing him out.

They were in the Mines of Moria now and a sudden thought struck Gimli. The Elf was an orphan now, both of his parents gone, on Middle-Earth anyway, since his father was supposedly still alive somewhere on an island in the middle of the sea...and his light showed their path so clearly....

On their third night, he approached the Elf and for the first time ever spoke civilly to him.

"Legolas! I am sorry to hear about your mother. Say....I am in need of someone like you to help me in the mines. If you are interested, I would be glad to adopt you and treat you like my own son." Yes, those were his damning words.

The thought of anyone, regardless of race realising how truly tragic his life was at the moment accepted without question. He then hugged his new father close.

After they had all watched Mount Doom erupt as the One Ring was destroyed, Gimli and his Elvish son had stayed and celebrated with the rest of the soldiers. Gimli realised something rather important in those nights afterwards...well, those nights he could fully remember anyway. Legolas could drink him under a table if the alcohol was wine of some sort, but when it came to ale, Gimli had the pleasure of seeing a drunk Elf.

A few months passed by in a blur, the alcohol dimming both their minds. Soon though, they both sobered up and left for the caves Gimli had decided to stay at. Legolas didn't like it at first and was teased something terrible by the other Dwarfs. Soon though, he had managed to wield a pick with the best of them and had no need of a light to work with. He had soon become the best miner that the Dwarfs had seen.

Gimli, though rather upset at the thought of having some pointy-eared beat him at his own game was even more shocked when, after he had been injured in an accident, his adopted son had been made King.

Gimli didn't know what had happened, but he thought on it regularly. His once beautiful home was turned into a haven for Elves as well as Dwarfs.

Gimli wondered if it would be sane to throw himself into one of the underground rivers and drown himself...

A/N – Very random story that should have been funnier than it is. This story idea came to me after reading one of Erestor's short stories. The one where they all gather in the Mirkwood manor and handed out 'jobs' to each other. Gimli's ended up being that he was Legolas' father. I think he was supposed to be abusive, but I changed that a bit. This short, silly story is dedicated to Erestor. Hope you like it.