In Dreams – Gimli
Rose G
Gandalf was still entranced by the too-rare sight of a smiling face to even notice Gimli's dream. The dwarf was laying next to Legolas, who was making a credible attempt at shamming sleep to hide his distress.
Gimli walked through halls of splendour, halls of beauty. It was Moria, restored to the glory of Durin's day. The stream through the caves glistened as if it were crystal melted down; the forges burnt again; smiths shaped jewels and gems. An army was assembled, but it was in peace for now. Some of his cousins were there, Balin the King of Khazad Dum rushing to welcome him.
Aragorn turned to Gimli, a wondering smile spreading across the dark stubble of his face. 'I believe you now, Gimli, son of Gloin!'
The rest of the Fellowship spread out, each marvelling at the craftsmanship and the beauty. Aragorn was relaxing now, releasing his grip on Anduril. Gimli smiled with simple pleasure at his friends' awe. This was his birthright and sharing it with them seemed to be a thank you for their companionship. Even Legolas turned to stare, his golden hair catching the light from the lamps. The Elf attempted to appear unimpressed, to give the impression that this was nothing when compared to his woodland kingdom, but Gimli knew he was moved.
Gimli dropped back to stand next to the Elf, allowing Balin to greet Aragorn and Gandalf first. 'Does it match your expectations, Legolas?'
The Elf turned to face him. 'Yes, yes. It does.' His voice was sullen, but it was an admission of defeat, almost an offering of peace.
With that hard earned concession ringing in his ears, Gimli fell into a deeper sleep unmarked by any dreams.