Title: Of Fire and Stars (Part 4)
Author: Ro
Rating: R (disturbing imagery)
Warnings: Angst, and deals with some racial bigotry
Disclaimer: I'm not making any profit off this. With the exception of a few original characters, Gimli, Gandalf, and other characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien (who's probably spinning in his grave as we speak).
Summary: Gandalf finds out what happened to Gimli while he and Thorin's company where away on their quest. Takes place during "The Hobbit", don't like Dwarves or Gimli? Then don't read this fic!
Notes: This is a Book-version, Not movie-version.
More notes:
/ means someone is speaking 'Crow'.
/" "/ means someone is speaking in 'Sindarin'.
(and now even more notes): Now beta-ed! Big, humongous "Thank you!" to the lovely, Little My! For willingly torture herself beta-reading this chapter (it was such a mess before). You're a Doll, Little My !
And a big thank you to all of you who have reviewed and made comments! Some of you sent me some fabulous feedback (Morn Gil, and others), but I couldn't send back a reply because your address would not work, sorry. But thank you for the feedback!
When I posted this fic I honestly thought no one would be interested in it (except for some of my fellow AxeBow members). But what a pleasant surprise! Looks like there are other Gimli/Dwarf fans out there after all . Thank you!
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"Since they were to come in the days of the power of Melkor, Aule made the Dwarves strong to endure. Therefore they are stone-hard, stubborn, fast in friendship and in enmity, and they suffer toil and hunger and hurt of body more hardily then all other speaking peoples," (pg. 39, Ch. 2 Of Aule and Yavanna, Silmarillion.)
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Caw! Screek! Caw! Caw!
A young crow squawked angrily while flapping her wings in agitation, she still had the matte black feathers of a juvenile rather then the shiny black feathers of adulthood. Her bright beetle-black eyes glared as a large group of older crows swarmed over the carcass, shoving her and the other younger birds out of the way.
Their sharp beaks tore through the Dwarf's thick hide to the flesh beneath, jerking their heads to rip and swallow hunks of meat, their beaks shiny and red with blood. Others worked together; ripping and pecking digging frantically at the Dwarf's muscular abdomen working their way through the dense muscle and sinew to the body cavity within that contained the tender and nutritious organs they sought.
A particularly old crow perched on the body's head, his gray-black wings spread out veiling the dead Dwarf's face, as if shielding it from the sun or the prying eyes of his fellow crows. But no, the old bird merely did so to keep the other crows back so he could pluck and eat the soft eye-balls from their sockets at his leisure. As for the young crow, when ever she or one of the other juveniles tried to get a share of the meat they where chased off.
/Not fair! Not fair! Me find first! Me eat first/ The young crow squawked, giving her wings another agitated flap as she sulked, completely ignored by the other birds.
While she and others watched the swarm of older birds feed on the two Dwarves bodies, the younger crows like herself hopped around nearby waiting for their turn, hoping for some scraps. The clear sky above and the fresh morning air did nothing to lighten her dark mood; or fill her empty belly.
Some of her fellows idly picked at the orc and goblin carcasses that lay scattered about, but none where really interested in eating the "dark-meat" for it tasted foul and spoiled even to their carrion eating pallets. They would eat it if there was nothing else, but not when there was 'red' meat available- fresh red meat.
From her perch atop an orc's decapitated head, the young crow watched as a squabble broke out when one of the bolder young birds managed to steal a large piece of meat before being driven off by the older birds. He was immediately mobbed by his fellows when he made it clear of the older ones.
With a bird equivalent of a huff the young crow flapped her wings and took to the air, completely disgusted by the whole situation. She cursed her foul luck and the unfairness of it all while circling the body littered clearing. Food was scarce in this gray rocky land and 'red' meat was even harder to find. Most of the left over 'red' meat back at the gray town was too spoiled to eat or infested with the white worms. The ones that where still fairly fresh were being picked clean by the older crows (who weren't sharing), so she had left to look for more food else where.
And what luck! Miles away, in a gray clearing between some thick woods and the steep edge of a deep quarry, she spotted the remains of a recent battle and two dead Dwarves! She and a few other crows quickly descended to take part in the unexpected feast. She had only just plucked out a rather tasty looking amber colored eyeball (a delicacy, to any self-assured crow) when she was suddenly chased off by another gang older crows, the eyeball snatched right out of her mouth.
Not fair! She had been the one to find the two Dwarf bodies-she should be the one eating! Not those lazy old ones!She thought bitterly to herself.
She continued to circle the clearing, pouting as she rode the morning breeze in ever widening circles. She was on her sixth loop, still grumbling to herself, when her sharp eyes spotted something below, down in the quarry. With nothing better to do and her curiosity sparked, she decide to check it out.
As she descended into the quarry she could now see two bodies below, a large warg and …a Dwarf! What luck!
On the gray stone floor of the quarry below lay the two bodies, about seven feet from one another. The large warg was sprawled on its right side, one red eye still staring balefully into space, it's muzzle drawn back from it's bloody teeth and gums, still frozen in a snarl. Its thick black tongue hung partially out of its mouth, and one of its front legs was at an odd angle, bits of the shattered bone sticking up out of the fur covered hide. Grey-matter and thick congealed blood had formed a large pool from where it had oozed from the warg's partially collapsed skull onto the gray limestone ground under it.
A few feet away, the body of the Dwarf lay crumpled on its left side in an almost fetal position. Like the two bodies in the clearing above, the crow could see that this one too was bare from the waist up, it's skin stained black from coal soot and blood. As the crow descended closer something flashed, grabbing her attention, looking she saw something shining dully on the ground next to the Dwarf's body. About a foot or so away was a piece of broken and twisted metal.
Landing between the two bodies, she quickly hopped over to take a closer look at the piece of metal- crows love shiny things, on closer inspection she saw it was a broken collar like the ones still around the necks of the two carcasses above. Losing interest in the broken circlet of metal (crows are not known for having very long attention spans), she made her way over to the body of the Dwarf, completely ignoring the warg's body even as she uncaringly waddled through the pool of gore leaving her prints behind. Hopping up to perch on the dead Dwarf's head, the crow paused for a moment to look down into the face of her next meal.
Like most crows, she didn't particularly care for Dwarves (live ones that is). A crow had to be careful what one said around Durin's folk, especially if said Dwarves had any stones nearby that they could throw. For unlike Men and some Elves who would hear their name calling and insults as only squawks and chirps, Dwarves could understand it (1). If that wasn't all, Durin's Folk were also friends with the snobbish and arrogant Ravens. And if there is one thing above all others that a crow dislikes, its Ravens!
Like the rest of it's body the dead Dwarf's face was dirty, incrusted with dried blood and other foreign matter. One eye had swollen shut, a jagged seeping wound ran through the eye and up into it's hair line, causing most of the left side of the Dwarf's face to be horribly swollen. The Dwarf's long messy and filthy hair was loosely tied back in a greasy rope that lay on the ground behind it like a dead snake. There were angry wounds all along its arms and back, as well as other various injures. A blood incrusted axe was still clutched in one of its hands, the crow could also see two more axes attached to a thick belt around the body's hips. The only clothes it wore were a pair of ripped-up trousers that were black from coal soot and blood, with a pair of beaten and scuffed-up boots.
Stupid dog and stupid dirt-digger! Must have fallen over edge in fight. Ground-walkers, they all dumb! Oh well, they all just meat now. The crow thought to herself, but then most birds thought ground-walkers (all 'speaking creatures that could not fly) quite lacking in proper wits.
A loud screech from above broke the young crow's musings, she realized it was only a matter of time before some of her fellow crows noticed her discovery. She would have to hurry if she wished to eat the best parts herself before the others mobbed her again.
That decided, she was just bending over to jab her beak between the thickly lashed lids, to pluck out the corpse's right eye- when that one brown eye suddenly snapped open. The crow gave a squawk of surprise and fright, quickly flapping away in her sudden panic.
/Not dead! Not dead/
The eye just continued to stare unblinking and unfocused at nothing. Then slowly the widely dilated pupil began to shrink coming back into focus as the mind behind it became aware, before finally closing again. Then with a low moan the 'dead' Dwarf began to move.
From her perch, some twelve feet away on a pile of stacked stones, the young crow watched as her meal so rudely decided to come alive and move about!
The 'corpse' inhaled deeply as if it had been holding its breath for a long time before a series of lung wracking coughs shook its body. When the coughing subsided it lay still just breathing deeply. Then that brown eye opened again and slowly the Dwarf lifted its head. It looked about with confusion on its face, its one eye blinking owlishly before catching site of the dead warg.
The sight of the warg seemed to jog the Dwarf's memory for confusion gave way a moment later to realization, then crushing sorrow. It all flashed across the Dwarf's face before it closed its eye again and laid its head back down, a whimper escaping its now tightly clenched teeth. There it stayed, unmoving for long moments fighting some kind of internal battle with its self.
The crow continued to watch from her perch still grumbling to herself, hoping the Dwarf would decide to go back to being dead soon. But she was sadly doomed to disappointment.
For with another pained groan, the Dwarf began to uncurl from its crumpled position and rolled slowly on to its stomach. Collecting itself it then began to try and lever itself up, but with an agonized cry it found that the arm still holding its axe was unresponsive, most likely broken in the fall. Finally with several hisses and grunts of pain it managed to get into a slouched sitting position, holding its limp arm. The filthy rope of its hair hung down to the middle of its bare back, some hair that had escaped the braid hung loose on either side of its face, curtaining it from view. Its attention then turned to its broken arm, which seemed to refuse to relinquish its white knuckled grip on the axe. Nothing seemed to work, forcing the Dwarf to begin to try and pry its own fingers from around the weapon
By this time the quite miffed crow, whose stomach looked as if it would continue to be empty this day, decided to voice her feelings. /You stupid! You dead! Dirt-eater! Raven groomer (which was a particularly foul insult, if you were a crow)/ She called, her feathers ruffling in righteous anger.
Finally taking notice of the insults, the Dwarf slowly looked up and turned its head towards the source of the annoying name-calling, wincing as its neck seemed to protest at the movement. Finally a deep brown almond-shaped eye peered through the curtain of its greasy black hair to see only a young crow perched some twelve feet away, glaring back at him.
/Dirt-eater! I teach you, I pluck that eye out of your head when you dead again/ the crow challenged, how dare this corpse glare at her! Though hers was quite an empty threat (unless the Dwarf was dead of course), for while crows talk big, they are notorious cowards.
The Dwarf's eye narrowed as he sent the bird a chilling glare before going back to prying the axe out of his other hand. With harsh hiss, its soot covered face twisted in to a terrible grimace of pain, it finally managed to pull its thick fingers away from the axe handle. Panting with its exertions the Dwarf held the axe in it's good hand, staring at it. The broad hand that held the blood covered weapon shook ever so slightly as it continued to stare at it with an expression the crow couldn't place.
The Dwarf then closed its eye and began to murmur in a low tone, still holding the bloody axe. The crow did not know what the Dwarf spoke for she did not know the language of Dwarves. She assumed it was a prayer of some kind, but to who? She did not know or particularly care.
After a time the Dwarf fell silent and opened its eye again. The crow watched as the Dwarf tried to wipe as much of the dried blood off the axe as it could, using its own pant leg since there was nothing else at hand before putting the axe (with some difficulty, hampered by his broken arm) into the holster an his left side. Then, somehow, the Dwarf managed to slowly and awkwardly climb to its feet.
There it stood, swaying a bit with a dazed look on its face, one arm hanging limply at it's side. Squinting in the bright light of the sun over head, it then looked up the steep wall face of the quarry to the edge above. Then looking down at the warg on the ground nearby, the Dwarf put a hand unconsciously to his throat.
A sudden look of surprise then came over its short bearded face as the hand around its neck seemed to be feeling for something, but what ever that something was- it wasn't there. The Dwarf then began to look frantically about the ground around it before finally spotting the broken and twisted collar. Shocked realization came over its face as it stared at the bit of metal, hand still at his throat before glancing back to the dead warg.
The crow watched in agitated confusion as the Dwarf's hand dropped back to its side and its head slumped forward, the hair curtaining its face from view again. All was quite for a time… then the Dwarf's shoulders began to shake and a strange sound broke the silence.
It was like a series of soft dry gasping noises that began to gain in volume, and at first the crow thought the Dwarf was crying… but as the sound got louder she realized. The Dwarf wasn't crying it was laughing. Its shoulders shook in its strange mirth as the laughter continued to bubble out. Soon the laughing was echoing through the quarry, amplified and distorted by the tall stone walls so that it sounded more like the call of some strange sorrowful creature.
Then as suddenly at it had started the laughing suddenly stopped and the young Dwarf stood there silent and unmoving. The crow watched confused as a single drop of water fell to the gray stone by the Dwarf's boot. Rain? The crow glanced up to the sky above but saw no clouds.
Thoroughly mystified by the Dwarf's strange behavior, the crow watched as it finally looked up again, a strange expression shining in its one eye. Then giving the broken and twisted collar one final glance, the soot-covered Dwarf turned and simply began to walk away.
/Hey! Where you go! Stupid/
The Dwarf never looked back as he continued to walk away, out of the gray limestone quarry and eventually disappearing into the trees of the forest beyond.
The enraged and hungry crow continued to throw calls and insults after him. Where you go? Worm-face! Mud-rat! You not get far! You already dead! You Dead!she shrieked after him, hopping up and down and flapping her wings all the while in her frustration and anger. She was still hungry!
What neither the Dwarf nor the crow knew was that the durability of Aule's design had been tested and proven once again. For if Gimli had been of any other race other then a sturdy child of Aule, he would be dead. For no Elf, Man, or Hobbit would have survived that fall- let alone walked away from it.
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The day was sunny and bright. Birds sang and insects hummed in the canopy above, the clean scent of loam and living wood was in the warm air. The braches and green leaves of the trees above filtered the sunshine so it showed in a dappling of moving and shifting shapes on the lush green of the forest floor. Forest creatures happily went about their business; squirrels playing chattering games of 'tag' among the treetops as graceful deer grazed upon the tender shoots of the grass below. But one creature took no notice of the sunlight or the pleasant surroundings of the woods.
For how long he had walked and stumbled through the woods, he did not know. His broken arm hung limply at his side and he clutched his injured limb with his other good arm, attempting to keep it from swinging. Trying not to jar his other numerous injuries, it was all he could do to just keep going but it seemed to be a losing battle. He knew he didn't have long; the wounds from the goblin and orc blades alone would finish him off soon.
It was common knowledge that the orcs and goblins that infested the Blue Mountains did not poison their arrows and blades. They did however, have the nasty habit of slathering their blades with the rotting and foul flesh of corpses, insuring that any cut or wound inflicted by their weapons would be guarantied to become horribly infected.
He had begun to wheeze, as the muscles on his wounded side stiffened and tightened around his broken ribs, making the task of breathing ever harder. A painful ache was in his belly, no doubt due to some internal damage caused by the fall. His left eye was a pulsing agony that nearly made him dizzy with the pain of it.
He tripped several times, almost falling as he tried to navigate through the woods with his limited vision, but still he pushed himself on. All he knew was that he had to get as far away from… that place, as he could.
The crows final calls kept ringing in his head as he continued to force his body forward.
/You not get far! You already dead! You dead!/
He knew that the crow was right, he could feel it. A frightening numbness was creeping over him, he could feel it curling slowly about his heart, calling for him to stop and rest. It would be so easy to stop and just lie down for a little while…
He was torn; one part of him didn't care anymore- so tired… just let the darkness come, it whispered. Another part of him, the prideful Dwarven part of him, demanded he keep going- I will die in a place of my own choosing! Yet another part of him rallied against the darkness, crying out in fright as his body slowly began to shut down. No! I want to live! that part of him raged, trying desperately to fight against the sucking darkness that was creeping over him.
He continued on lost in his own thoughts, as half-remembered memories and daydreams danced through his head. His pace got slower and slower but still he continued on. Then as if by magic he was out of the woods-- there was no longer grass under his feet but dirt. He was on a dirt road.
What?
He stood there blinking dumbly for several long moments, not comprehending what he was seeing before he realized that he had made it, he had reached the road. Somewhere down this road was the farming town of Telgore where they where supposed to meet up.
"Yes that was it…suppose to meet up with the others…it will be good to see Svior and Nidi. I wonder why Ulfr's not here with me? Strange…must be waiting with Hanar and the others. That's it! They're waiting at Telgore for me, that's it...better hurry. Maybe Da's there too…waiting..," Gimli thought to himself, his one eye glassy and dilated with fever as he stood there swaying a bit.
The wide dusty road cut through the forest like a deep scar, thick trees lining the road on both sides for as far as the eye could see in either direction. As he stood there on the side of the road he heard something off to his right, and he looked slowly up to see two Men with large travel packs and walking sticks. They wore the simple clothes of peasants and wide brim straw hats, most likely farmers, Gimli thought to himself. They both hurried past him, throwing curious and disgusted glances over their shoulders as they walked away.
"Did you see that?" One hissed to the other.
"Yah. Stinkin' Dwarves, this area be full of them," A ring of disgust was in the Man's voice as they whispered amongst themselves.
Gimli watched them go, a dazed look on his soot and blood covered face. At any other time he would have taken it upon himself to beat the stuffing out of anyone who would have dared say something like that within his hearing. But at the moment he didn't care- instead he was just trying to stay upright as a sudden wave of severe vertigo took hold. He clutched at his head with his one good hand as the world began to spin wildly.
He swayed dangerously and stumbled; then his back came into sudden harsh contact with the trunk of a large Oak tree. He let out a groan, grimacing in pain as the many cuts running along his back flared to agonizing life. That was the last straw as his shaking legs finally collapsed under him and he slid down the tree, leaving a stain of dirt and blood on the trunk, into an ungraceful heap on the ground. His axes, still safely in their holsters, gave muffled clinks as they hit the ground. He gave a pained yelp at the harsh jarring of his ribs and arm, and there was but a moment of panicbefore the darkness came rushing up to plunge him into unconsciousness. No! I…
There he stayed, insensible, his legs sprawled out in front of him, the tree at his back propping him up in a slouched sitting position. He looked like some strange, filthy soot-covered doll, broken and forgotten. And there he stayed.
The noon sun continued to shine cheerily above in a cloudless blue sky, as the birds sang undisturbed in the branches, with only the occasional traveler walking down the road to give the dirty slumped figure a curious look as they walked past.
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"Gimli…Gimli. Awake child!" A deep voice whispered.
The small child blinked open tired brown eyes to see his mother kneeling over him as she gently gave him another shake. She wore a thin sleeveless undershirt that was a deep green and pair of brown trousers, tucked into a pair of scuffed up boots. Her two axes 'Fire Reaper' and Star Smasher' hung at her sides on a thick leather belt buckled about her waist. Her beard hung from her chin in a simple braid, and her thick copper hair was tied back from her face in a loose ponytail that hung below her waist. With a face-cracking yawn Gimli sat up from the cocoon of blankets he and his brothers were curled up in.
"Mother?" he asked in confusion, scrubbing tiredly at one of his eyes. He did not understand what was going on as his mother picked him up, plucking him out from the warm nest of his blankets and siblings. Nin mumbled something in his sleep before rolling into Gimli's vacated spot, but otherwise did not wake. Nor did his older brother Daira who slept undisturbed, curled up on his side.
"Mother, yawn 'is time to get up?"
"No, 'tis still late," she told him in a whisper, mindful of the other sleeping occupants of their wagon (and most especially his baby sister) before setting him down again. He watched her tuck the blankets back around his two brothers before moving away towards the back of the wagon where the chest that held all of the children's clothes was kept. As his mother opened the chest and began rooting around for some clothes, Gimli let out another yawn and looked tiredly about the dark interior of their family's home.
The wagon's main door was open, allowing the starlight to come in as well as the night sounds of singing insects. The wagon was large with four small windows on either side; the walls as well as the roof were made of wood, rather then canvas like some wagons. There were several large chests that held their clothes and other things like valuables, and materials such as semi-precious stones, bits of silver and other supplies for the jewelry that both Gloin and Oin would make to sell at towns and villages. Half of the wagon's floor was covered in a large thick fur rug made of bear skin, and it was on this half that the family slept with their thick blankets. On the other side was a small low table along with a several cushions and pillows scattered about, as well as most of the chests. Two lamps (at the moment unlit) hung from the ceiling along with various tools and a scattering of bundles of sweet smelling herbs. Hidden about the wagon were several weapons with in easy grabbing distance- there was even a trapdoor in the floor incase of emergency.
His father slept in his usual spot near the door, snoring softly on his back. Both Gloin and Nei always slept nearest to the door; if any intruder tried to come in, they'd have to deal with the two of them first. His Uncle slept farthest in, by the hidden trapdoor. The children slept between the three adults- Gimli's baby sister slept peacefully bundled up in the large whicker basket that sat next to the tangled nest of blankets that he and his brothers slept in. When little Minal outgrew the basket that doubled as a basinet, she'd join her brothers on the floor.
"Here we are," his mother said, coming back over to kneel next to him with a small blue tunic and a bit of rope in hand. "Off with your nightshirt," she ordered him.
He did as he was told and pulled the threadbare smock over his head, causing his copper hair to stick up at odd angles. Nei gave a soft laugh before taking his nightshirt and tossing it into the basket they used for clothes that needed washing.
"You are a scruffy looking one, aren't you?" She chuckled, running her thick fingers through his hair, smoothing it back down. "There, that's better. Alright, arms up." The blurry-eyed child did as ordered and Nei slipped the blue cloth over his head, tugging it down. The tunic hung down almost to his knees and was made of coarse fabric of cheap weave, but it was warm and durable.
"Mother, this is Nin's tunic! Mines red!" the little boy grumped, glaring down at the blue material as his mother tied the bit of rope around his small waist.
"Sshhh! I know it is, but I don't think your brother will mind. 'Sides, yours needs a good wash, after you jumped in that mud puddle yesterday. There now," she said, finished with tying his makeshift belt.
"Well I mind. Humph! Reds better then blue!" Gimli pouted- he always got a bit cranky when he was tired. Nei just smiled, ruffling his hair before walking towards the door. The noise had apparently awoken Gloin for he shifted and raised his head.
"Nei?" He called in question, his eyes blinking tiredly as he sat up, the thick blankets pooling around his waist. The starlight from the open door painted his bare chest and face a pale blue, while his long inky black hair seemed to blend perfectly with the dark shadows.
"Go back to sleep. There be no cause for alarm. Back to sleep, my Love," she told him in Khuzdul, before leaning down to give him a deep kiss on the mouth.
"Mmmm."
"Can I have another one of those?" Gloin asked with a lazy smile when they broke apart. Nei let out a soft chuckle.
"Greedy, are we?" she said, in a husky voice.
"Very," Gloin agreed with a devilish grin, before gently tugging her down with a grip on her beard while he leaned up to claim her lips once more.
"Mmm, mmmm." The kiss was deeper and more heated this time.
"Now, back to sleep," she ordered when they had finally broke apart again, and gave Gloin one final nip on his swollen lower lip. With that Gloin gladly did as he was told, a contented smile on his face as he lay back down and within a few moments he was softly snoring again. Nei shook her head in amusement as she stood up, mumbling something under her breath about "Males".
"Come, Gimli," she then called softly over her shoulder, before stepping out the door and down the wagon's three steps. With one final longing look at his warm bed and blissfully sleeping sibling, the little boy turned and trotted after his mother.
When he got out the door he paused, then jumped off the top step instead of using the stairs, landing with a light thump on the cool grass below. His mother just rolled her eyes from where she stood waiting nearby- Gimli was her only child that seemed unable to 'walk' down stairs and other similar obstacles. Even regular 'walking' meant 'running', usually with lots of yelling; in other words, Gimli was what we would call a rather hyperactive child.
"Come," she called again, holding out a broad calloused hand for him to take. Gimli quickly trotted to his mother's side, taking her hand. Then off they went as she led him away from their caravans camp.
Their camp consisted of the caravan's six wagons arranged in a defensive horseshoe shape with a large campfire in the center. Aside for the two guards, Nei and Gimli were the only ones up. Nei gave a final wave to Thekk as they passed the blond hawk-noses Dwarf who was on guard duty that night. He returned the wave before going back to carving on a piece of wood by the fire, a large battle-axe next to him.
With the exception of the singing cicadas, the night was quiet as Nei continued to lead Gimli further away until their camp's fire was but a small flickering light in the distant darkness behind them. But that did not disturb Gimli as the four year old trotted next to his mother, happily swinging their linked hands, completely unafraid with the confidence only a child can have. Safe in the firm belief that as long as their parent is there, nothing can really go wrong, nothing can hurt them.
Now that Gimli was more awake he started to take more notice of his surroundings- the cool grass under his bare feet, the warm breeze that ruffled his hair and the sweet smell of the purple flowers that grew with abundance in this area perfuming the air. As well as the comforting sounds of his mother's heavy footsteps, the creak of leather and the occasional clink of the two axes at her sides.
"Remember to always keep one eye out for danger, young one, even in a seemingly safe place like this. For danger can lurk anywhere. So we must always be alert." She reminded him, scanning the darkness around them as they walked.
"Fear not, Mother! I'll protect us from any monsters that dare show their face!" Gimli told her, in all confidence. He puffed up his small chest before throwing a few punches at some invisible opponent, nearly tripping over his own feet while he ducked and dodged. Nei let out a deep laugh as she peered down at him, still in combat with his invisible foe.
"Only peach fuzz on your face and already the fierce warrior, I see. I don't think Middle-earth is ready for Gimli, King of the Wall Climbers," she laughed, lifting up her hand that still clasped Gimli's small one, until the now giggling little boy was completely off the ground.
"Not, Wall Climbers!" He told her indignantly. "I'll be Gimli, the Dreaded! Like in the stories!" he told her, swinging his legs in the air as he dangled from his mother's muscular upraised arm.
"Oh forgive me! Gimli, the Dreaded!" She laughed as she continued to walk, the little boy giggling happily as Nei began to 'bounce' him by letting his feet touch the ground so he could push off back up into the air. She did this a few more times before letting him walk on his own again.
They continued on their way through the grassy meadow, Nei's steps unhurried as the child next to her continued to happily swing their linked hands as he alternated between skipping and walking. He could now see that his mother was leading him to a small hill that stuck out of the middle of the meadow, like some long sleeping turtle (both he and Nin had found it a perfect place to play "King of the Mountain"). The shadowed forms of the Blue Mountains watched in the near distance beyond, while a sea of stars swirled overhead. There was no moon that night so the stars twinkled uninhibited in all their grandeur.
Finally they reached the hill and climbed to the top, giving them a perfect view of the night sky above. Nei sank down to sit comfortably cross-legged, before tugging the now hopping Gimli down to sit on her lap in front of her.
"Now, all we have to do is wait." she told him, while taking out a comb from a pouch on her belt.
"Wait? Wait for what?" Gimli asked, confused as he obediently sat still as his mother began to comb his hair. Grooming was a very important part of Dwarven family life.
"Something special, just keep your eyes to the heavens." she told him cryptically, giving a knowing smile when the little boy in front of her gave an impatient huff.
"But, what is it? All I see are stars!" He whined, squirming a little as Nei worked at a tangle.
"Patience! You will see," She chuckled as she continued to brush his hair, taking a special pleasure in seeing that her son had hair so like her own.
There they sat for a time in comfortable silence. Gimli dutifully watched the stars twinkling above as Nei combed his hair and deftly braided it into a thick tail, before reaching back into the pouch on her belt for a small strip of leather, tying it off.
"There! Now you're Gimli, the Handsome!" She chuckled, giving his hair a final pat before tucking the comb back in to her belt as Gimli looked up over his shoulder.
"Mother?" He asked, turning around.
"Aye?" she answered, taking in the thoughtful look on his young face.
"How come, you didn't bring Nin and Daira with us? Why just me?" he asked, and for several moments Nei said nothing as a strange expression came over her face. Gimli waited patiently, his head tilting curiously, not understanding his mother's expression.
Finally Nei gave a sad smile and cupped his face in her broad hands. Calloused hands that were easily capable of bending metal and crushing bones held her child's small face, gently brushing his soft cheek with a thumb as she studied him. Gimli said nothing as he watched his mother with big curious brown eyes, until she finally spoke again.
"I had a dream," she said finally, releasing his face.
"Was it a good dream?" he asked.
"I know not," she told him truthfully, with a shrug
"What did you dream?" He asked, his childish curiosity peaked. She seemed to debate with herself whether or not to tell him, idly stroking her braided beard before finally deciding that there would be no harm in it.
"I dreamt of a warrior, walking alone. I know not why but there was a great sadness to him, as if he carried the weight of the very mountains on his shoulders.
"He was off to war, marching on a deserted gray road with only black-burnt land about him. A single great mountain stood at his back as he marched towards a dark foreboding mountain in the distance, that spewed smoke and flame. He carried 'Fire Reaper' and 'Star Smasher' on his belt, and "Blood Screamer" at his back.
"He was of good height and fit, broad of shoulder and trim of waist. A thick braid of copper hair trailed from under his helm with a comely braided beard on his handsome face. But it was his eyes… They were nothing but flame! As if he was nothing but fire inside," she told the child on her lap, his big liquid eyes wide, listening intently.
"The warrior marched on and suddenly the gray road was no longer, now it was a place of rivers and trees in the reds and browns of autumn. Then a frosty land of screaming winds and snow an ice. Once again things shifted and he then walked in a dark ancient place of cold stone and terrible sorrow! The darkness receded and he walked in a gigantic forest of strange golden light, the sound of foreign singing in the air, that melted away into rolling fields of tall golden grass. The land continued to shift and change, a dark frightening forest, a bloody battlefield, wondrous caves of incredible beauty, more battlefields and then a white stone city. Until finally he stopped and stood on the sandy shore of what could only be the great sea.
"It was then I noticed that there was a single set of light foot prints in the sand; they were particular, not made by a Dwarven foot- like Men yet…something else. They led into the sea, disappearing into the waves.
"Then over the roar of the waves and the crying of sea birds, a fair voice in some strange tongue rang out. And all other sound seem to cease in its wake. It called to the fire-eyed warrior and he looked up and paid heed as the voice sang. Then he began to walk forward into the sea until…he disappeared beneath the waves. Then all that was left were his footprints, next to the strange ones. Leading into the sea," she finished softly, her gaze turned inwards as a frown marred her face.
A sudden shiver ran up Gimli's spine as he watched his mothers face, with her almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbone and strong jaw.
"What does it mean?" he asked, in a hushed whisper.
"I know not, little one. But I liked it not," she told him, her eyes narrowing at her own thoughts.
"After that, was when I awoke," she continued, looking back down at him. "Then I remembered that tonight there was something very special that would take place. I was going to take both you and Nin, but it seemed important I show you alone… for the warrior in my dream was…" she trailed off, seeming to struggle for the right words. She opened her mouth again as if she would say more but nothing came out, and she gave her head a shake before quickly changing the subject.
"Do you know what your mannish name(2.) means?" She asked suddenly, giving an internal 'thank you' that Gimli was still of the age where he could be easily distracted. She watched him give a few confused blinks before switching gears and answering her, the moment before seeming forgotten .
"Da says my names means 'pain-in-the-arse' and he said Nin's means 'head-pain'!" He told her proudly, a big smile on his small face while he scratched at an itch on his arm.
"Remind me to have a long talk with your father when we return." Nei said, an eyebrow cocked. "But as true as it seems at times- 'that' is not what your or your bothers names mean."
"What do they mean then?" He asked, his head cocked curiously.
"Nin does not mean 'head-pain', it means "Water". As for you, it has two meanings- for your name means two different things in two languages of Men. Gimli, means 'Fire' in one and 'Star' in another.
"It was on a night much like this, that I birthed both you and your brother.
"I know not why, but your brother's birth was near pain free with almost no blood. "He came out a smooth as water" Lady Frost , said, while helping me clean him up. So quiet, nary a cry out of him." Nei said, a wistful smile on her face as she recalled the memory. She then looked back down at Gimli with raised eyebrow, the smile still on her face but it was now rueful.
"That all changed when it was your turn, though." She said wryly. "Child, I thought you would be the death of me; Lady Frost thought so too. There was so much blood and the pain! I have never felt its like! I screamed so loudly I thought I would shake down the very heavens!"
"I found out later from your uncle that your father fainted twice!" She added, with a bark of laughter.
"Males, Hrummff! You would think 'he' was the one doing all the work!" She snorted, before continuing her story.
"Well, after hours of pain and straining, you were finally born. Covered in blood, and kicking! Not but seconds from the womb and already fighting! And such a wail! A creature so small should not be able to make such a loud noise!" she laughed again, giving Gimli's chin a gentle tug.
"But it was when I finally held you both in my arms, under the stars that night. That I named you. While you both looked identical, you where clearly opposites already. 'Nin', water would be your brothers name. For he never cried once, and has been to this day my easiest birth, just sleeping peacefully, blissfully unconcerned about anything.
Then I turned to you; you had stopped crying so I had thought that like your brother you too where also asleep. But you were not, instead your eyes were gazing above so intently at the stars; the light of our fire reflecting in those brown eyes of yours.
It was then I decided. Gimli, 'fire' would be your name. For you where the opposite of your brother, and 'Gimli' for the stars above. May they guide you no matter what road you walk nor how dark it gets," she told him, a deep love shining in her dark eyes as she bent down touching her forehead to his.
"Gimli, my child of fire and stars." She said softly.
She then gave an excited gasp as she moved back, catching sight of something over Gimli's head.
"Its time!" She told him suddenly, picking him up and turning the confused child around in her lap.
"Wha? I don't… " What ever else Gimli was going to say was lost as he gave a gasp of surprise and delight. A shooting star streaked through the night sky soon followed by another, then another, until the heavens where alive with them. Gimli watched in awe at the barrage of colors as blues, greens, reds, and brilliant whites streaked over head in a dazzling display (3.).
"This is what I wanted to show you, little one. For this night, the stars are at war!" she whispered in his ear, a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her lips. She was enjoying the show as much as the delighted child in her arms, both giving periodic gasps of delight at particularly brilliant flares or pointing out the occasional star to each other.
And there they stayed until the dawn, mother and child watching the heavens above as the cicadas serenaded them…
-----------------------------
Awareness began to slowly creep back over him.
/"Ugly little hairball, isn't it?"/
/"Is it dead?"/
/"Are you deaf, Mirkalo? Can you not hear it wheezing?"/
/"Look at it… looks like its been living in a coal bin."/
/"Or a coal mine, perhaps? There are several in this area, if I remember correctly."/
/"Well, they do like holes in the ground, probably doesn't matter what kind."/
Wha…Voices?
sniff/"It reeks of goblin!"/
sniff, sniff /"Warg too."/ Phew!
/"What could have happened to him…look at his injuries."/
/"We best be careful. Where's there's one naugrim, there's usually more."/
The comforting darkness began to recede and Gimli found himself returning slowly to the conscious world. At first he thought he was still caught in another dream, but no dream was ever so painful. So surely I must be awake, he thought.
Strange voices were speaking around him. He couldn't understand what was being said but the voices were light and lilting, the foreign words strung together like a poem or bits of broken song. It was like a soothing music to his ears after hearing only the shrieking of Orcs or the screams of rage and pain.
/"Eh, eh, Naug, awake! 'Tis a wondrous day,"/ said a singsong voice in that strange language near him.
/"They don't care about the weather."/
/"Shush!"/
At first when he tried to move- he couldn't. Only the solid presence of the oak tree at his back kept him upright, his muscles stiff from abuse and exhaustion. The dull thrum of agony rippled through him in waves; the searing pain in his ribs flared with every shallow breath along with the great throb in his eye on the left side of his swollen face.
But he was so exhausted and weak he couldn't even grimace in pain anymore, let alone speak. It all acted as a terrible reminder of what had happened under the stars at the quarry, and the horror back at the now burning remains of Black Hollow.
/"We should give him some water."/
/"Why?"/
/"Yes, it will definitely take more then all our combined water-skins to wash that filth off."/ Peals of silvery laughter followed.
/"If you do not wish to assist the poor creature, then why in Arda did you insist on stopping, Altseld?"/
/"Quiet, Mirekalo!"/
Finally Gimli was able to slowly turn his face up in the direction of the silvery voices, then with a monumental effort he managed to open his one good eye. At first he could see nothing; the light was blinding in its intensity. Rich tinkling laughter greeted his ears as one of the voices that had spoken earlier apparently took notice of his movements.
/"I'd almost forgotten just how ugly these creatures are!"/
/"Stop it, brother!"/
/"Hey look, it's coming around."/
/"By Iluvatar it stinks! How can you stand to get any closer, Altseld?"/
Slowly the blinding haze faded from his eye and three figure came into focus. They stood about six feet away from his out stretched legs, they were tall like Men. Yet elongated, finer…sleeker. Not Men …but…Elves, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. They were Elves!
Truly the tales had not lied- they were beautiful. When he was younger his father had once pointed out some Elves to him but they had worn concealing cloaks, and when Gimli was older he would see them occasionally but always at a distance. But now seeing some of the Elvish folk up close, he could see why they were admired as the fairest of beings.
Delicately leaf shaped ears, high cheek bones and inviting lips were set in smooth elegant faces. Their skin was fair like polished alabaster with an almost opalescent sheen. All three had flashing eyes that could rival any gem of sapphire or emerald dug from the earth. Two had hair of cascading white gold while the other had that of deep flowing onyx, spilling about his shoulders. The smaller of the blonds wore his hair tied back into an intricate braid, interlaced with green ivy that hung down his back. The taller blond, whose hair was loose save for two small braids behind his ears stood closer to Gimli than his two companions. The three beings seemed to radiate a glow, as if there was a light emanating from within them. Like quicksilver and moonstone come to life.
Their clothes were of deep flowing greens and rich browns like that of the forests they no doubt roamed, finely made boots of soft leather molded to their long slender legs. All three carried well-crafted bows with quivers full of leaf thatched arrows on their backs, and the taller blond also carried an intricate sword of Elven make, belted at his slim waist. Their bodies were lithe like elegant cats, graceful as swans and as fleet footed as deer. Gimli thought they belonged more in a beautiful painting or some fanciful poem rather then standing on the dirt road in front of him.
He could only gaze upon them in wonder as they talked and laughed amongst themselves in their flowing silvery tongue.
But as he watched and became more aware, their glamour began to fade and the realization finally started to come to him, and his heart sank. He knew not what they spoke but he knew now that they were laughing at him.
Where once he had seen smiles, there were now sneers. Their flashing jewel-like eyes, now critical as they took in his filthy and haggard form. The soothing laughter was now mocking as they motioned to his torn clothes, little more then dirty rags. While he had been looking at them in wonder, admiring them (for all Dwarves admire things of beauty), they had been looking at him in disgust and jest.
He felt hurt, betrayed, and for the first time in Gimli's life he wanted to cover himself up in shame and crawl away to hide somewhere. For the first time, Gimli felt small, pitiful… ugly. Yet all he could do was continue to wheeze as he struggled to breathe; only his one eye gave away what he felt.
"He's probably a drunk- got robbed or picked a fight. You know how 'they' are," suggested the one with black hair, switching to common as he waved his hand in front of his face as if to ward away Gimli's stink. "Elbereth, it reeks! Come! Lets us go."
Gimli now knew why his mother and elders talked with such bitterness about Elves. They were truly marvelous to look upon but they were arrogant in their standing, vain in their beauty, and cruel in their amusement.
"Hold up, Ilsasinyo," said the blond closest to him. The tall Elf crouched down, balancing gracefully on the balls of his feet, looking at Gimli with the same gleam in his eye as that of a child who rips the wings off insects and terrorizes small animals.
"If he were a drunk we'd smell the ale, but that's one of the only things I'm not smelling," he said, his straight nose wrinkling in disgust before he gave a truly nasty smile. Strangely it reminded Gimli of the sneering faces of the Orcs.
"I know what it is. It's a beggar! You're a beggar, aren't you little naug?" He asked the limp Dwarf, who could only glare balefully back at him with one flashing brown eye.
/"Leave him be, Altseld! Stop it!"/ pleaded the other blond Elf who was standing the farthest away. Unlike the indifferent and uncaring black-hair Elf and the insulting blond Elf that stood peering down at Gimli, this one looked at the wheezing and dirty figure with pity in his sapphire-blue eyes (though Gimli could not see it from his position nor understand the language). / "Come! Let us go!"/
"Wait a moment!" Altseld snapped at the other two before turning his attention back to Gimli. "Well, little Beggar-beard, you are in luck! I'm feeling generous today and I know what would make you feel better," he said, pulling a small purse from the green folds of his tunic. He took out a single gold coin before tucking the purse away again.
"Look- gold!" He smiled condescendingly, waving the coin in front of Gimli's face like a treat. The black haired Elf looked bored as he picked at one of his nails, while the second blond with the braid looked away, disturbed at what he was seeing.
"Dwarves like gold, yes? Well, here." And with that he tossed the coin at him, it landed with a soft 'clink' next to Gimli's left boot.
But the Dwarf only glared at the smirking Elf, taking no notice of the coin, his one eye burning with rage.
"Go on, now. It's yours…go on! Reach for it. Pick it up… come now, you can do it!" The Elf said in a sweet condescending voice, as if encouraging a dog to do a trick.
"Go on, it's gold. Dwarves like gold, don't they? Isn't that what all your kind want? Gold?"
Yet, still the wheezing Dwarf didn't move.
tisk, tisk "You're not a very good beggar if you don't take the kindness that's given to you!" The blond Elf scolded, looking Gimli right in the eye, seeming to drink in the sight of him.
Gimli hadn't looked at the coin even once, instead he continued to glare balefully at that beautiful face. With it's jewel blue eyes, dancing with cruel amusement, and it's elegant face pulled into a condescending smile.
It's true! Elves are heartless, condescending creatures! He thought, bitterly.
Another part of him was disturbed and disgusted that a being so beautiful could say and do things so ugly, and it made him remember something his mother told him once.
"Nothing can disguise the ugliness of the soul. No matter how beautiful the face."
"Hmm… Maybe it's a simpleton, as well as a beggar?" The blond laughed, glancing over his shoulder at the other two. The black-hair Elf gave an amused chuckle, but the other blond said nothing
Gimli's heart burned with fire, as rage and humiliation swept through him like maelstrom. After all he had been through, to listen to this mocking? By these hollow, uncaring and cruel beings! Curse Elves, curse them all! He would have spit right in that pretty face if he could have, he would have gladly killed all three of them. But all he could do was internally scream his rage at the insults and humiliation.
The strain of his emotions was to much for his already over-taxed body to take, and the black tide of darkness came rushing back to swallow him again.
The three Elves watched the Dwarf's one eye suddenly roll-up in it's socket before his head slumped back onto its chest. The blond Elf seeing that his fun was over, gave a shrug and turned to his fellows with a laugh.
"How about that, he was so grateful he fainted! Well, I've done my kind deed for the day," he laughed, getting up in a graceful motion while he knocked imaginary dust off his leggings.
/"Your kindness is awe inspiring,"/ said the dark-haired Elf, sarcastically while shaking his head.
/"What do you mean by that? I gave him a gold coin and he didn't even thank me properly for it, I should have taken it back! Yet I let him keep it- if that was not kind of me. What else could it be?"/ snorted Altseld in mock indignation, but the dark-hair Elf only rolled his emerald green eyes.
/"You were cruel."/ Said a quiet voice full of scorn, from behind them. They both turned in surprise to the young blond Elf with the braid, who was watching them both with a look of disgust on his fair face.
/"What?"/ The other blond Elf said, his blue eyes showing his surprise in his other wise blank face. As if not believing what he had heard, the dark Elf also looked a bit surprised at what the younger Elf had said.
/"I said you were cruel! Why do this? Why did you do that, taunting him? You cou-"/
/"You do not know of what you speak child/ Altseld hissed defensively at the younger Elf, who flinched at the force of the older Elf's sudden anger. /"Cruelty? You know nothing! I was there at the sack of Menegroth! I know these creatures and they are little better then orcs or goblins! Living in the dirt like greedy badgers! Raping the earth for their own gains, destroying anything that is not their own. They care for nothing other than gold and ale. And they would happily slit any throat to get it!"/
/"If that is so, dear brother. Why did he not take that coin you so generously gave him? The look in his eye, did you not see it? The wounds on his body? He must have been in a fight! Look at the black blood… can you not see it?"/ Said the young Elf quietly, disappointment and accusation shining in his eyes. /"I am disgusted by what you did!"/
/"What! How dare you judge me!"/ Snapped Altseld, his eyes wide and flashing with anger as he stormed over to the younger Elf.
Seeing the growing tension, the black-hair Elf decided to step in and play 'peace-maker'.
/"So Altseld got a little carried away, is was all in fun./ he said, stepping in-between the two fuming brothers. /What is the matter? I agree 'twas not nice, but remember, little Mire. Naugrim are soulless. Merely Aule's puppets to keep him entertained- you remember the story of Iluvatar letting Aule keep them.
/"So why this anger between you?"/ He said calmly looking between the two. He was surprised again when the younger Elf turned and gave him the same look he had been giving Altseld.
/"I find it even more unsettling that you truly believe that,"/ Mirekalo said quietly. /"I do not care for Dwarves and I agree that they are crude, ugly, and unpleasant beings. But there is no excuse for ignorance or cruelty! That is the way of Men…not Elves."/ He stated, now glaring at the two older Elves.
Just as Altseld was going to step up to his young brother, his eyes burning with a truly frightening anger, the three heard something coming their way down the road.
The three Elves immediately froze and listened intently. They could make out the creaking of wooded wheels and the clopping hooves of oxen and a small horse, as well as the voices of people talking, getting closer in the distance.
/"Humans, with two wagons…four or five humans."/ Said Ilsasinyo, looking in the direction of the sounds further down the road.
/"This is not over, young one! We will speak of this matter when we reach Lindon!"/ Altseld promised gravely to the younger Elf, anger still smoldering in his eyes. /"Now, let us go!"/ he ordered, and with that he stormed away, followed by the dark-hair Elf.
Mirekalo watched them go before giving the short slumped body a final pitying look. He had learned something here today. But it was a hard lesson for the young Elf to swallow. He watched the Dwarf for a few more moments before he too sprinted lightly off after his companions.
The three elegant forms bounded away as graceful as deer, disappearing into the thick woods like fluttering lights. Leaving the road, the Dwarf and the gold coin behind.
So ended Gimli's first real encounter with Elves…
----------------------------------
The creak and groan of wooden wagon wheels along with the slow clopping of hooves filled the air. As the sound of wagons got closer, voices raised in song could now be heard.
"The road goes ever on and on down in th-"
"Mother! Mother!" cried the voice of a young boy, interrupting the singing.
"Aye. What's wrong with ya' now?" answered a smooth feminine voice.
"Look!"
"What?"
"There, by that tree, look!"
"Where, I don't - oh! Now I see."
"Momma? What's wrong with that man?" asked a small high voice of a young child.
"I don't know…"
"That's not a Man," stated a gravelly female voice. "Tis a Dwarf, young one by the looks of im'."
"He looks dead!" Said the boy's voice.
"Looks like it- whoa, whoa now! Blasted oxen! Whoa! Harrumph! There now, lets get a better look." Said the gravelly female voice, followed by a creak of wood then the crunching of gravel.
"Mother! Come back here! Mother! Istan, get down and get your Grandmother away from there!"
"Calm down, Raya. I'm old, not senile! Now what do we have here…"
"Wow! Look at those axes! Think he was in a battle!" cried the boy's voice, in excitement.
"By the looks of im' I'd say; yes."
"He smells bad- look! A gold coin!
'Might as well take it, I don't think he'll be using it," the gravely voice sighed.
"Is he dead?"
"No, he still breathes. But not for long; looks like bad infection in those wounds. Broken arm…broke ribs… fever, sigh it won't be long. Shame, one so young…," the voice of the old woman answered gravelly
"Look black blood- orc blood! With those axes, I bet he killed lots and lots of 'um! Like whoosh! Wham! They're dead, guts all flying out, blood -"
"Istan! What have I told you?" Scolded the smooth female voice.
"Sorry, Mama. Still though- I be he could have taken all those crooks that robbed us the day before! The shit-eating bastards!"
"Istan! Language!"
sigh "Sorry, Mama."
"Hmmm…lots and lots… ," The gravelly voice murmured to itself, before calling out again.
"Raya!"
"Aye?" The boy's mother answered.
"Get down and give me a hand. Istan, get hold of his legs."
"Mother? What are ya doing?" Cried the younger woman.
grunt "Trying to break my back, what does it look like? Now get over here and take his arm. Istan, you better go get your sister to help."
"Mother?"
"This seems like the perfect opportunity to give your skills a challenge."
"And just why are we doing this? Ooghf! He's heavy!"
"Grandmother? What is that?" yelled out a new feminine voice, in shock.
"Oh
good, Surya. 'This' is our new patient. Now help your brother and get
his legs. Careful, Raya! That arm's broke. As for the why? It will be a
chance to test our skill; it has been many long years since I healed a
Dwarf. And a first for you, Raya, grunt and if he dies anyway we can
always use him for parts."
gasp "Mother! You don't mean that!"
"In a Elf Lord's eye, I do! There be areas in the east and south that pay handsomely for real Dwarf parts- twice that for Elf parts. Lets see…powdered Dwarf bone for strength, Dwarven hair for courage and battle prowess, grunt there are even some areas where they believe that a special 'Dwarven penis soup' will guarantee potent virility for life. snort Need I go on?"
"Point taken; yet I hope it does not come to that."
"As do I. grunt Dwarves are a pain to dismember. Now let us get him in the second wagon."
--------------------------
It was sunny, the sky filled with white puffy clouds that drifted lazily above. Below, the land was in the full blush of spring, with meadows of tall grass and flowers, fragrant shrubs of dark green and a scattering of flowering trees dotting the hilly landscape. Outcroppings of rocks and boulders also rose from the sea of green, like islands of stone. The area was surrounded on either side by the tall reassuring shapes of mountains in the distance, their peaks still white capped.
A long hollow call of an owl cut through the air, followed by another series of calls. At one of these rock islands, the head of a Dwarven child popped up from behind a large rock (a small boulder really), its exact mirror image popping up a moment later beside the first.
"That was Da!" Said the first child, turning to his twin who wore a simple blue tunic.
"Think lunch is ready?" The second asked, rubbing his nose on the back of his arm. Both of them were grubby with dirt and dust from their earlier rough-housing and searching.
The other six-year-old just gave a shrug of his shoulders while he wiped his dirty hands off on his simple red tunic before tucking a stray copper lock behind an ear. They both wore simple brown breeches that ended about mid-calf, with large patches on the knees, and both went 'Hobbit style' for neither wore shoes.
"I hope so." Gimli answered.
"Come on, Minal!" Nin called, as both he and Gimli scrambled over the large rock, behind which they had been searching for semi-precious stones.
A little raven-haired girl looked up from where she had been sitting nearby, playing with something in the grass near the outcropping of rocks where Gimli and Nin had been searching. She whispered to something in her hands then clasped them together, before getting up and dashing off after her two brothers in the direction the calls had come.
The two dark copper-haired twins raced one another through the tall grass that came up to their waist. Nin's long hair was tied back in a loose pony-tail with two thick forelocks in front of his ears, while Gimli's hair snaked behind him in a braid also with two thick forelocks left loose. Little Minal raced after them, her loose raven locks whipping behind her, what ever it was still held safely clasped in her hands as she ran.
In the distance they could see two adult Dwarves, both had raven-black hair and beards. They were clad plainly in simple trousers and sleeveless shirts that they wore when the weather was warm, with sturdy boots and belt. They both wore long brown stocking caps on their heads and the more broadly-built of the two had a long red pheasant feather in his cap; marking him as the elder of the two and as head male of their family.
Gloin was just cupping his hands around his mouth again to let out another call, when Oin smacked his older brother lightly on the shoulder.
"Here they come," Oin said, as he gestured off to their left. They both watched as Gimli and Nin came over a rise in the near distance, racing through the tall grass of the field towards them soon followed by their younger sister. The sound of movement from behind them alerted Gloin and Oin to Daria's arrival, and the two adults turned to their attention to the older boy as he walked up to join them.
"Oye! Time for lunch, Da?" Daira asked, a smile on his short-bearded face as he came to stand next to his father's other side. Similar to his younger siblings, he wore a pair of simple brown trousers and a light tan colored tunic, but he wore boots (unlike Gimli, Nin, and Minal). Like his father, his thick dark-hair was tucked into a dark brown stocking-cap, his clothes were dusty and he carried a small sack over one broad shoulder his hands still covered in dirt.
"Should be, we also have a visitor at camp." Gloin told him, before gesturing to the sack Daira was holding. "Any luck?"
"Aye, I found four geodes(4.) and some rose quartz near some limestone boulders over there," Daira said, jabbing a thumb back in the direction he had come before handing the sack over to Oin.
"So…who is it?" Daira asked, curious. Not many people visited wandering folk like them and the list of possible visiting relatives was even shorter. Gloin just waved him off as he looked over his younger brother's shoulder.
"You'll see," he said.
Oin, who had opened the sack and was looking over his nephews findings, picked up a medium sized geode and held in the palm of his broad hand with his thick fingers wrapped around it. He gave it a few taps, checking the quality and resonance of the crystals inside.
"Purple crystal this one, no space. Should be perfect for that necklace and earrings you're making, Gloin." he said before putting it back, then repeating the process with the other ones. "Blue- some space, white- no space, another purple- solid! The rose quartz- a bit clear. Good for charms, though," Oin said, looking up at Gloin who gave a nod, stroking his beard in thought.
"Good job, Daira!" Gloin then praised his beaming son, giving him a loving whack on the back.
"Excellent! If the purple crystal is dark enough, I might be able to make that gold necklace and bracelet I've been planning."
It was then that Gimli and Nin finally reached them, and the three Dwarves looked up to see the copper-haired twins in front of them panting from their race.
"I won!" They both chorused at the same time, then frowning they turned to glare at one another.
"No, I won!" The yelled simultaneously again, still glaring at one another.
"Did not! I won!"
"No you didn't!"
"Did too!
"Did not!"
"Did Too!"
"NOT!"
"TOO!"
"NO!"
"YES!"
"N- gggrrrrrrrrrrrrr!"
"STOP COPPING ME!
"Quiet, both of you! Gloin yelled, in exasperation. He stepped forward to yank the twins apart, who were now face-to-face yelling at one another. It was a bit disconcerting that they were still speaking (or yelling) simultaneously.
"Yah! Ya losers! Sides, I was first." Daira said, crossing his arms over his chest. He sighed- little brothers where so embarrassing.
"Oh…" the twins simply said, seeming almost to deflate. Gloin just gave a roll of his eyes at Oin, who snorted, remembering how competitive he and his brother had been in their childhood. Competition between children is common in all races and it was a given when dealing particularly with Dwarven children that there would be plenty of rough-housing, fighting, with lots and lots of yelling (and that was when they were acting nice and on their best behavior).
"Any luck finding anything?" Gloin asked, and the twins shook their heads in the negative.
"We looked but-" Gimli began.
"-couldn't find anything." Nin finished.
"That's alright, better luck next time" Their father told them, ruffling their hair.
"What in Arda! Is taking you all so damned long to get your lazy arses back to camp!" Nei roared, causing the six Dwarves to jump as she stomped over to them. No one had noticed her storm over the hill from the direction of camp).
"Ow!" Daira yelped, getting a cuff on the ear, and Nin and Gimli gave matching yelps as they each got a whack on the bum from the dark copper-haired Dwarrow-dam.
Dressed much like her husband, she wore a sleeveless red shirt and dark brown trousers, with boots and belt. Her hair was held away from her face in a long thick complicated braid, two braided forelocks hung before her gold-ringed ears (she had three graduated loops of gold on each ear).
"What was that for?" Daira grumbled, nursing his smarting ear.
"That's for not coming sooner, when you are called." She scolded him, as she stood next to her husband.
"But, Mother-" Gimli started, while rubbing his sore rear end.
"Don't 'but' me, child."
"Nei, come now we were- Ow! What was that for?" Gloin demanded, glaring at his wife as he now nursed his own cuffed ear. Oin was now chuckling beside him, laughing at his older brother's indignation.
"For lollygagging about, when I've had lunch ready and a guest waiting! Both just sitting around! I told you to get them, not to stand around and flap your lips!" She scolded her husband, hands on her hips daring him to say the other wise. Hearing chuckling to her right she turned to give her brother in-law a dark look, and Oin sobered immediately in the wake of her glare.
"You want one too, Oin?" She asked, an eyebrow cocked. Oin quickly shook his head in the negative, holding his hands up in surrender. It was just then that little Minal finally reached the group, immediately going to her father.
"Ah, there's my sprite!" Gloin chuckled , a smile splitting his face, his smarting ear forgotten.
"Da! Da! Look what I found!" Minal shouted excitedly. Her clasped hands held up for Gloin's inspection. The little girl was literally jumping with excitement, and with a deep chuckle Gloin caught the child mid jump. The raven-haired girl gave a happy squeal as her father picked her up, tickling her with his mustache and beard while he gave a rumbling mock growl in her ear before giving her a peck on her rosy cheek.
"Now then, what is this that you have found?" He asked the giggling girl in his arms, no doubt thinking she had found a interesting stone, or maybe even something of worth like a bit of quartz or lapis. Nei, her anger spent and her curiosity was sparked, stepped closer to see what the little girl had found.
Minal, wanting her father to have a good look made sure to put her clasped hands right in front of Gloin's face before unclasping them.
Gloin found himself face to scalely face with a dark green rock-lizard, that glared at him with its big yellow slited eyes.
"His names, Master Thorin!" Minal chirped happily.
"The resemblance is astounding!" Nei said, in false astonishment with a wry look in her eyes. She was barely able to keep a straight face) as she watched 'Master Thorin' puffed out his neck and began jerking his head up and down in challenge.
"Nei," Gloin began to admonish, making the mistake of taking his eyes away from the agitated lizard. Seeing his chance for escape, Master Thorin made a leap for freedom into the nearest cover he could find.
Gloin let out a surprised yelp, almost dropping the giggling Minal as the lizard leapt off the girl's out stretched hands and dived into Gloin's beard.
With a deep laugh Nei stepped forward, plucking the little girl from her husband's grasp as he held the child out for her to take. While her three sons and brother in-law convulsed with laughter, little Minal gave another giggle, clapping her small hands as she watched Gloin squirm about making strange faces.
"Da's, funny!"
"He can be," Nei chuckled. "Come Minal, lets go get lunch ready as 'Master Thorin' and your father get to know one another," she said to the three-year old on her hip. Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she watched Gloin digging franticly through his thick beard for the escaped 'Master Thorin'. He shot her a glare, but Nei just let out another laugh, giving him a wink before walking away with Minal back to camp.
Oin finally managed to get himself under control enough to get up from the ground (where he had fallen in his fit of laughing) and help his older brother.
The two continued to try and catch the agitated lizard until Oin let out curse of pain, yanking one of his hands back from Gloin's beard. Master Thorin was firmly attached to one of his thick fingers.
"Look, Uncle Oin caught him!" Gimli cheered, as both he and Nin watched in fascination as Oin frantically tried to shake the fierce lizard off (rock-lizards have small, but very sharp teeth).
"I think it's the other way around!" Daira laughed.
Now it was Gloin's turn to laugh at his younger brother's expense. Eventually 'Master Thorin' decided that he had enough of battling these strange creatures and let go. They watched the lizard (except the cursing Oin who was now nursing his wounded finger) land nimbly on the ground then scuttle away before pausing on top of a large rock a few feet away. He puffed himself up and gave another series of head jerks. Then with a flick of his tail 'Master Thorin' dived into the grass, disappearing from sight.
"I think he just insulted us, Da" Daira laughed, wiping tears from his eyes.
"That or stating his victory," Gloin laughed, before looking sideways with a smirk at his brother who was grumbling under his breath, still clutching his injured digit. "Master Thorin, was definitely the victor of this battle." He gave a another laugh as Oin shot him a glare.
"Last time I help you, brother. You can just dig the next vicious beast out of your beard, by yourself!" Oin grumbled indignantly to his sibling.
"Minal's' not going to like-" Nin started.
"-that you lost her pet." Gimli finished, from where they stood side by side.
"She'll get over it," Gloin said, as the five began to walk back to camp.
"Easy for you to say. You're not the one she bit last time she got mad!" Daira grumbled, from where he walked flanked by Nin and Gimli.
"Yah! Minal gets away with everything!" Gimli grumped, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Just cause she's a girl! Its not fair!" Nin agreed, with a pout also with his arms crossed.
"She's a female, its just the way things are," Oin said simply, as if that answered all, while looking back over his shoulder at the three children behind them.
"Life is not fair my boys. We have our place and females have theirs, and its mostly above ours. So get used to it," Gloin said.
They could now see their caravans wagons and the smoke from several fires rising into the air. As they neared camp they began to pick up the smell of cooking food and the strong sent of their guest. The smell of Hobbit-grown pipe weed (the best there is), fire powder, and the sharp smell of ozone, like after a lightning storm.
"I see the old gray fart is back," Daira grumbled, after taking a long sniff of the air.
"Gandalf!" Gimli and Nin yelled happily before racing ahead. Soon they had reached camp, dodging other Dwarves of their caravan who were talking or having lunch around their own fire with their own families. The two ran to the small fire in front of their red roofed wagon where their mother, sister, and a tall gray robed figure stood with a large pointy hat and staff.
"Gandalf!" Gimli and Nin shouted again, nearly toppling the Wizard as they each hugged a leg.
"Woa! Goodness, you two are getting strong!" He said while recovering his balance as the twins stepped back, still grinning happily up at him.
Gandalf gave a soft chuckle while straightening his hat. "It is good to see the both of you, too." He said smiling, giving each of them a fond pat. It was then the Gloin and the others arrived.
"And as for some…" Gandalf continued, now looking at someone over the twin's heads with an eyebrow raised in irritation.
"Some would do well to watch what they say within a Wizard's hearing. Isn't that right… young Daira?" Gandalf said as he gave the young raven-haired Dwarf a withering glare.
Daira winced. "Sorry, Gandalf," he apologized, giving the Wizard a bow. Gandalf gave an approving nod at the apology, before snorting with amusement.
"Old gray fart, indeed!" The Wizard chuckled to himself.
"Da? Where's Master Thorin?" Minal asked, noticing that her father was empty-handed.
"Uh…sorry, sprite, but…uh-"
"Master Thorin had to go home; his mate was calling. So he's out rounding up the hatchlings for their meal of insects," Nei said, coming to her husbands rescue as she prepared their meal.
Gandalf's big bushy eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise at hearing this.
"Hatchlings? I was not aware that Thorin had married, sired offspring or had come to dine on such…exotic fare." he said. Nei looked up at him in surprise then threw back her head with a deep rolling laugh, Gloin and Oin joining in.
Gimli, who was still standing by the Gray Wizard (who was still much taller then the little boy even though he was now sitting down) noticed Gandalf's still quizzical expression.
"Not Thorin Oakenshield. Minal, found a stupid lizard and named him Thorin." Gandalf turned his attention to Gimli as the little boy explained, hearing this the Wizard gave a hearty laugh of his own.
Minal, however, did not apparently like hearing the news of her pet's departure, family business or no and was on the verge of pouting. She crossed her arms over her small chest with a scowl on her face that looked remarkably just like Gloin's when he was particularly irritated. Seeing this Gloin (getting his chuckling under control) walked over, knelt down, and gave the little girl a consoling rub on the back.
"You don't want Master Thorin getting into trouble with his mate, do you? I hear she can be quite vicious when angry," He said, sending a rueful look over Minal's head to his wife, who was now rolling balls of dough. Nei looked up, and catching her husband's smirking gaze she bared and snapped her white teeth at him, though her dark eyes flashed with amusement rather than anger. Gloin only wiggled an eyebrow, signaling that he found her fierceness rather…stimulating, and Nei gave a promising wink before going back to preparing their meal.
With Minal now placated Gloin went about preparing the coffee with Daira's help, while Gimli and Nin bombarded Gandalf with questions, which Gandalf ether answered or laughed at. Finally when everything was prepared and ready, Nei looked up.
"Daria, Gimli, Nin, Minal- Minal!" The little girl, who had up until now gone unnoticed, jumped guiltily caught in the act of preparing to swing Gandalf's staff at Nin (who like Gimli, was paying attention to something Gandalf was telling them). Dwarf children even at such a young age are much stronger than children of other races, so while the staff was incredibly large and unwieldy in her hands, she did not have much trouble lifting it.
"You put that down this instant! You glare at me like that again, child, I'll give you something to glare about. Now go wash up, the lot of you!" Nei said as the children quickly did as they were told. They crowded around a large bucket specifically for that purpose, by the stairs of their wagon.
"How is it that you always manage to show up around meal time?" Oin asked the Istari as he sat down across the fire from the wizard.
"Tis an ancient Wizarding secret" Gandalf deadpanned while peering back at the younger son of Groin from under the brim of his large hat. All the adults let out a bark of laughter at that, as Nei started frying up the flat bread on the griddle over the fire.
She had made a simple flour-based dough that would cook into a type of thin flat bread. A large pot also hung over the fire simmering, containing tenderized strips of beef, tender tubers, and carrots soaking in a spicy sauce. When the bread was ready, she would spoon some of the meat and vegetables into it and wrap it up. Called 'meat wraps' or more often 'wraps" they were a common yet popular recipe with Dwarves, and apparently Wizards were quite fond of them as well.
"Coffee or water, Gandalf?" Nei asked, motioning to the pitcher of river water and the steaming kettle of coffee, as Gloin passed out simple tin cups. The children, done washing up, had come back and had sat down by the fire. They got water to drink- when they where older they could get coffee, but for now it was water.
"Coffee, thank you," Gandalf answered, holding his cup as Gloin poured him some. Gandalf didn't bother asking for sugar or cream, for he knew there was none anyway.
Nei handed the wraps to her husband when she was done and Gloin passed them out, starting with the Wizard. Soon everyone had one and they ate.
"Gimli, slow down! Its not going anywhere. I swear you get more food in your beard, than in your mouth," Nei scolded. Gimli looked up from his half-devoured wrap, sauce and bits of food on his chin, before wiping his mouth with the back of his arm.
BUUURP!
"Nin! Manners!"
"Let the boy be, Nei. Better out than in, I say." Gloin said, between mouthfuls.
Nei gave a huff, grumbling something under her breath before taking another sip of her coffee. The meal continued, Nei eventually getting up when baby Mano woke up and started crying from where he had been sleeping in the wagon. She came back a few moments later, sitting back down in her spot by her husband with the crying baby in her arms.
Gloin and Oin were asking Gandalf about news and points of interest the Wizard had come across on his wanderings. Soon they had all finished their meal, their bellies full as they sipped at their coffee or water, Mano had finally stopped crying and was now suckling contentedly at his mother's breast. His big gray eyes closed in contentment, his little hands clutching the material of Nei's red shirt while his mother occasionally stroked her calloused fingers through his fine black hair.
"Gandalf! Tell us a story!" Minal demanded seeing that every one was now done with their meal (except Mono).
"Yes! A story!" Gimli agreed enthusiastically, looking up from where he had been poking idly at the fire with a stick.
"Yes! Tell us about the Twin Warriors, Elladan and Elrohir! And their adventures orc hunting!" Nin said.
"No, we heard that story last time! Tell us a different one, Gandalf!" Daira said, while picking something out of his teeth.
Nei gave a laugh from where she sat next to Gloin, baby Mano still suckling contentedly at her breast. Finally she turned to explain to the Wizard (who had a mildly surprised look on his face), "Since you told them that story, its all Nin and Gimli seem to play. Running wild, playing Elladan and Elrohir."
The Grey Wizard chuckled, his eye positively twinkling with some unknown secret at hearing that, and a gray bushy eyebrow rose as he turned to look at the two young copper-haired twins.
"Liked that story now, did you?" He watched them both give enthusiastic nods, their big brown eyes aglow with barely suppressed excitement.
"Yes!" Both Gimli and Nin said at the same time.
"They're like us! I'm Elladan! And Gimli's Elrohir!" Nin told the Wizard, Gimli nodding his head in agreement with his twin.
"That right! One day me and Nin will go orc hunting too!" Gimli added.
With their meal over, and little Mano burped and contentedly dozing again Nei had gotten up, disappearing into their wagon to put the baby down for his nap, appearing a few minutes later to sit back down. Now that the baby was asleep and safely tucked away, the adults (including Gandalf) brought out their pipes. And soon the air was filled with the smell of pipeweed, dancing wisps of smoke and the occasional smoke ring.
"Elladan and Elrohir… I have never heard of any stories about Twin Dwarven warriors wandering the wilds, hunting orcs. I'm telling you, those are the strangest Dwarf names I have ever heard!" Oin muttered under his breath so only Gloin could hear, who gave a nod in agreement before snorting smoke out of his nose.
"They don't sound Dwarven at all. Knowing Gandalf, I wouldn't be surprised if they were not even Dwarves!" Gloin grumbled sourly.
"Hmmm. Lets see…something-" Gandalf was thinking aloud, blowing a large smoke ring before his thoughts were interrupted.
"New!" Daira interjected, glaring at his two brothers who where both going to yell something just then.
"With battles!" Gimli yelled after, from his seat between Daira and Nin.
"Yah!" Nin agreed.
"And lots of Heroes!" Minal added.
The three adults still puffing contentedly at their pipes, were also listening with half an ear while they began idly discussing something amongst themselves.
"As I was saying." Gandalf continued, pausing to see if anyone would interrupt him again before continuing. "A new story with battles and heroes. Hmmm, lets see…" He blew another smoke ring, only this one was green, as he searched his memory.
"Ah, Yes! How about a story of 'The Last Alliance'?" Seeing that he had his audience's complete attention, Gandalf began his tale.
"You all remember the story of the One Ring?" He asked them, and all four of them gave nods of their heads.
"Seven for the Dwarf-lords, in their Halls of stone! Nine for the Men, Doomed to die! Three for the Elf-lords. And One Ring to rule them all!" The four chorused.
Gadalf gave a nod of his head. "Correct, not quite in the right order…but correct, nevertheless. Now then," he began, making a sound in the back of his throat as if to clear it.
"A terrible darkness created by the Dark Lord Sauron was spreading across the land, threatening to take over all the lands of the free-peoples of Middle-earth, and in fact many had already fallen beneath his heel. With an army of darkness and The Ring of power at his command, his victory seemed assured.
"But there were some who resisted! A Last Alliance of Men and Elves was all that stood-" But Gandalf found himself interrupted once again.
"And Dwarves," Nei said, looking up with a glare from across the fire where she sat puffing on her pipe.
"My ancestors did not give up their lives in that battle and others, just to be forgotten, Wizard. Tell the story true and not through the lofty eyes of Elves. Or tell it not at all," She told him, a note of warning in her deep voice. Wizard though Gandalf may be, he was still a guest at her fire and it was she who ruled here.
"Forgive my lapse, Lady Nei," Gandalf apologized, with a slight bow of his head. Then with a gruff cough he continued the story.
"As I was saying. A Last Alliance of Men, Elves, and Dwarves were all that stood in the way of …" Gandalf continued his story, but Gimli was no longer listening. Instead his attention was on his mother, if Nei had a tail it would have been lashing from side to side. But Gloin was murmuring something into her ear, and what ever his father said seemed to work for after a few moments she gave a smoke-filled huff and relaxed, leaning against him as he wrapped a arm around her.
Gimli didn't know why but his mother always got very agitated when there was talk of Elves. He knew of his mother's disliked of Men, letting Gloin or Oin take care of most of their dealings with them. The only Men she would deal and freely talk with were the strange Men called 'Rangers'. But he didn't know why she would only deal them, or why she got so agitated about Elves; he decided to ask his father why when the chance arose.
The day wore on- Gandalf's entertaining story was long over, Nei's daily lessons and axe practice were over and dinner had come and gone. Now the stars were out and Minal was sleeping peacefully in the wagon with Mano. His mother, Lady Frost, Gandalf, Old Althiof, and Thekk sat by the fire discussing something, an occasional laugh going up from the group. Daira, and his uncle, with some of the other Dwarves of their caravan were playing 'Chops' (a game similar to darts, only instead of darts they used hatchets) on the other side of camp, using a large tree with a bulls eye carved crudely into the trunk of the tree. Others went about their own business.
Gimli watched it all from where he and Nin lay on their stomachs under their family's wagon. He decided that now was the time to go find his father, and he turned to tell Nin but saw that his twin was fast asleep.
"Nin, Nin!" He called, shaking his brother's shoulder. But Nin only mumbled something in his sleep and shifted.
"Nin! Come on!" He yelled giving his twin another shaking, Nin only grumbled and pushed him away.
"Mmmrrr, leave me 'lone," he mumbled irritably, curling into a ball.
"Fine, be a lazy lump!" Gimli pouted- he could never understand how his twin could happily take a nap anywhere or at anytime. With a final glare of annoyance at his sleeping brother, Gimli decided to go ahead and look for his father anyway. He scrambled out from under the wagon and left, leaving his blissfully sleeping twin behind.
After some searching he finally found his father lying on his back under a wagon, only his legs sticking out, while he was fixing something on the underside of Lady Frost's wagon.
"Da?" the little boy asked, squatting down to peer under the wagon at his father.
"Aye?" Gloin answered, as he continued to work, hammering a nail. A small lit candle on the ground next to him provided light as he patched up a hole on the underside of the wagon.
"Da, why does Mother get so mad? Whenever anyone talks of Eves or… why she don't like Men?" he asked.
Gloin stopped working, cocking his head up to look at the curious child peering under the wagon at him. He gave a sigh before putting down his tools and scooted out from under the wagon. He tucked a few escaped strands of his dark-hair back into the brown stocking-cap as he sat up, turning his full attention the copper-haired child now sitting next to him, the wagon at their backs.
"Why? Well, no self-respecting Dwarf associates with Elves if he can help it. They maybe fair but they're arrogant, flighty, and their pretty faces hide cold, cruel hearts. Most Men are weak, greedy, and lazy-not to be trusted. They will stab you in the back if there's gold or jewels to be had. Not all are so, but most.
"As for your Mother… Everyone has their own reasons to dislike others, be they Dwarves, Elves, Men or even Hobbits. It is all up to that person.
"But I think your Mother dislikes Elves and Men mostly because of the War. The War where your Mother got her scar," Gloin told the little boy, tracing a line over his left eye with a finger. "After the battle, there were so many dead; we could not properly bury them all. We knew the orcs would dig them up and the other scavengers would feast on them. So we burned them.
"Seeing the mountains upon mountains of burning bodies of our people…the light from all those fires turned night into day as ash fell and covered the ground like snow. Ash- that was all that remained of over half our people. The sight of it turned your Mothers heart bitter towards Elves and Men.
"If Only they had come to our aid! We might have been able to storm the Gates and root out the very heart of the Orcs! Purge Middle-earth of their foul breed and take back Khazad-dum! Dwarves have fought in every war against the darkness, asked or not. But the one time we could have used them to help exterminate the goblins and orcs once and for all, did Men or Elves come to our aid? No! They sat back and watched! For six years they watched as over half of our people where decimated! Nothing…nothing but ashes scattered in the wind," Gloin finished quietly, his brown-eyed gaze turned inward as he remembered his own experiences during that last terrible battle.
Finally looked down at his son again who had been sitting quietly listening beside him.
"Does that answer your question?" He asked, and Gimli gave a solemn nod of his head. They sat quietly together for a while when Gimli gave a sudden yelp, breaking the silence.
"Ow!"
"What's the matter?" Gloin asked, tuning his head to give Gimli a curious look .
"I don't know, somethins' in me eye-ow!" Gimli yelped again, scrubbing at his left eye with one hand.
"Here, let me have a look," his father said, shifting to face his son so he could look into the child's eye.
"I- ow! It hurts- ahh!" The copper-haired child cried out, pitching forward clutching his eye.
Hold him down!"Gimli, what's wrong ,boy?" he could hear the concern in his father's deep voice, feel his father's broad hands trying to lift his head and pry his hands away from his face.
"I- ahhh! I …I don't know!" He cried curling into a tighter ball as the pain intensified.
Tighten that rope! He's fighting!"Da, the-the pain! Ahhhhh!"
"Gimli! Boy wha…wrong! …tell…Gimli.." He could hear his fathers voice, but it seemed to be getting farther and farther away. And everything began to spin and distort.
-------------------------------------
Suddenly Gimli found himself plunged into a dark blurry world of pain and confusion. Strange shadowed shapes moved around him as warped sounds assaulted his ears; he felt like his whole body was burning up.He couldn't get up- he became aware of bindings of some sort that were holding him down and hands, he could feel strange hands holding him down as well. He began to panic. Everything hurt, he could hardly breathe, something was sitting on his chest! Trying to suffocate him! Pain, like molten a dagger stabbed at his eye. He tried to get away from it but couldn't- he couldn't get away! He tried to move his arms to claw at his face and try and fight off his tormenters, but the bindings and hands kept his arms down. What's going on? The Elves? No the…the orcs! The orcs and goblins must have found him! Going to finish him off- they were torturing him! Have to get away!
"Hold him down!"
Gimli could feel one of his torturers trying to hold his face still, no doubt trying to rip out his eye. No! Stop!
"I'm trying!" a voice grunted. "But for something half-dead, huff he's awful strong!"
"Surya, for the love of- just sit on his arm! Istan, hand me that blue bottle."
Voices? He could hear strange distant voices around him as he continued to try and struggle against the creatures holding him down, but the voices were muffled as if he was hearing them from underwater. Unhand me! Let me go!
"Here, Grandmother!"
"Good! Now help your sister hold his legs."
"Hope those ropes hold."
"As do I- grunt Curse you! Stop fighting! We are trying to help you, lad! Damned fever has him fighting shadows."
No! No, leave me alone! Gimli continued to struggle in his fevered state, not understanding what was happening.
"Oomph! If this one if half-dead, I'd hate to see what a healthy one could do!"
"Get a good grip now and brace your selves. This will not be pleasant!"
The pain before was nothing compared to the sudden white-hot agony that now seemed to sear through his very being. Gimli in all his life had never known such pain; all thought fled as a horrible tortured scream suddenly filled his ears. Then the darkness came rushing back, plunging him into the safety of unconsciousness.
Yes, I'm still evil.
Some comments from the weird chick writing this fic.
I do not condone racism or bigotry of any type! Even in fantasy worlds, be they Elf or Dwarf.
There were parts in this fic I used purposely to illustrate just how ugly and wrong bigotry is, in any form! Be it from hate or ignorance… There is no excuse!
To all those people out there (including Peter Jackson) that think Gimli is fat, ugly, stupid, clumsy. Pick up the Books and find me anywhere in it, that J.R.R. Tolkien describes Gimli as fat, ugly and or stupid. If you can find it and show me the proof; I'll draw you a pic of your choice.
And because some people asked me what I thought of the movies…
My thoughts on the movies: Like most of us here I loved the movies too and I even liked Gimli. Very entertaining and I loved the special effects (very cool) But that is not Gimli from the books! PJ has purposefully butchered Gimli's characters 'worse' then he did with Faramir. And I find it a bit sad that so many people buy into this old, fat, ranting, clumsy 'butchered version' in the movie. Its quite obvious that PJ does not like Dwarves. He got rid of almost all of Gimli's lines, and put the whole friendship between him and Legolas on the back burner so he could push this 'Elf and Man' friendship. Worst of all we get this completely one-sided 'negative' view of Dwarves. There are two sides to every story but PJ didn't want to show that. The Elves are just as bad in their own ignorance and bigotry as the Dwarves are! But no, can't have people thinking that maybe Elves aren't perfect or that Dwarves aren't all greedy and ranting all the time! What makes the whole friendship between Gimli and Legolas so special and important is that they both push aside all that they've been taught and accept one another. J.R.R. Tolkien wanted to show that if these two people can overcome their differences and prejudices, and see the other as an equal, to see beyond the stereotype. If they can do it, a Dwarf and a Elf, can't we?
The Gimli of the books is brave and courageous, Elrond himself picked him at the council in Rivendell. Gimli is a young Dwarf in his prime, in great shape, never had any problems keeping up and fighting along side the others (not like in the movie), he had a sharp mind and silver tongue and charmed Galadriel with his words and manner (not bumbling about stupidly). He also was fairly quiet during the journey, not constantly grumbling (except occasionally like when they where trying to get over the mountains, but can you blame him) and while he didn't like Legolas or Elves in general, he wasn't constantly ranting about them ether. He was not yelling "Never trust an Elf!", once again another thing PJ just had to throw in there. Tolkien never gave us a good description of Gimli or anyone else for that matter (except Gandalf and Frodo), hell, people can't even agree if Legolas has blond or dark hair! So for all we know Gimli might have been a major hunk and Aragorn could have been ugly. We just don't know! Tolkien left it up to our own imaginations. So have an open mind, people!
"Peace, Love, and naked Elves !"
(falls off soapbox)
1.) In "The Hobbit" after Bilbo and company make it to the Mountain, we learn (thanks to Balin) that Dwarves can talk to Ravens and can apparently understand the language of Crows as well.
(2.) Mannish names: Dwarves keep their 'true' names a secret, so they use 'mannish' names when above ground.
(3.) Gimli and his mother where watching a Meteor shower.
(4.) Geodes: A rock, usually globular, having a cavity line with crystals.
