Title: Of Fire and Stars (Part 5)
Author: Ro
Rating: R (for strong language, violence, sexuality and disturbing imagery)
Warnings: Angst, deals with racial bigotry, violence, and violence against Women
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 were 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: A huge thank you, to everyone that has emailed me, prodding me occasionally, and left reviews ^_^ ! You're the reason I'm going to continue and finish this, thank you all very much! I came very near to scrapping this fic.
A gigantic thank you to Little My, for beta reading this monster! Your my hero, girly ~_^!
Gimli, finally gets clean and even gets a shirt! Ok, enough of my blabbing, on with the fic!
~~~
"He beat his fists against the post, and still he swore, he saw the ghost." (writer unknown)
~~~
Consciousness decided to slowly begin to seep back. He fought it off as long as he could, not wanting to leave the peace and safety of the dark embrace of sleep.
The first thing he became aware of was a rocking motion, followed by the creaking sound of wooden wheels. He lay there quietly, simply listening to his surroundings.
By the sounds of it, he was no longer sitting at the side of the road. He was in a wagon of some kind; having grown up in one he knew by heart the way they sounded- the way the wood underneath would creak and vibrate with the road, the way the wheels would screech and groan.
Slowly Gimli managed to force open an eye, giving a few blinks until the momentary disorientation had passed, and he found himself staring up at the rough wooden beams of a wagon's ceiling. Various herbs, bunches of exotic plants, and what looked to be dried animal parts (some unidentifiable) hung from the ceiling, swaying along with the motion of the wagon. Light poured in from two windows on either side of the wagon, illuminating various bundles, baskets, pots and jars, as well as several large chests stacked about the wagon's wooden floor.
He was lying on his back on some kind of coarse blanket, and he could feel the wrapped compression of bandages over his left eye, as well as around his neck, chest and shoulders. There was a dull ache in his left arm, and when he tried to move it he found it completely immobile. Panic overwhelmed him before he realized that it was immobile because it was heavily wrapped in bandages and in some kind of splint. He felt an immediate surge of relief when he found he could freely move all his fingers. His other arm lay partially resting on his stomach, and he could feel that there was a light wool blanket covering him
He continued to stare blankly up at the wagon's ceiling, realizing that he felt almost disappointed that he was still alive. He felt horrible empty, like there was a hollow in his chest. He really should be dead.
Did I survive?
He continued to stare up, watching the various bundles of herbs and animal remains sway with the motion of the wagon.
No, he decided. He was not the same Dwarf that he once was, so in a way Gimli son of Gloin had died alone on the side of that road. Would any mourn him? His father and Uncle-- no they were probably dead too. No one was alive to mourn him… not even himself.
What…Where am I? The last thing he could remember was waking up in the quarry with that stupid crow, then the forest…reaching the road and then…the Elves. The image of the blond Elf's beautiful and sneering face flashed before his eyes and he felt an instant flash of hot anger. Cursed Elves! Next time I see one of their kind it will be to soon! he thought bitterly.
But the anger soon faded in the wake of his more pressing feelings of confusion. How did he come to be in his new surroundings? Who had saved him, tended his wounds? Gimli was no healer, but he knew his wounds should have been fatal-- how was it that he was still alive? Surely the Elves hadn't…
It was then that he became aware of someone humming. Listening closer, he could now hear it to be the soft, happy, high voice of a small child. It seemed to be coming from nearby, to his right.
Slowly he turned his head in the direction of the humming and was greeted with a shock.
Minal?
He watched the vision of his little sister sitting next to him as she played with a cloth-stitched doll, humming happily to herself as she made the floppy stuffed doll dance to the accompaniment to her tune.
But this can't be real… Minal was older-- nineteen winters when she…she died. He closed his eye against the memory, against the image of his little sister's gaunt body lying peacefully amongst all the pretty blue flowers. He had been the one to find her…
No! This can't be real.
With some difficulty he managed to push the memory back-- he had no time for memories, for the past. When next he opened his eye, the image of his little sister was gone and he found himself gazing at a little human girl, about four years of age he guessed. He could now see that this human child was also larger then Minal had been, when that age. Where once he had seen Minal's thick raven-black hair, there was now fine mousy brown, and instead of Minal's big dark-brown eyes, there were now sky-blue ones.
Even though he knew the image from before to be false, he could not deny the painful twinge in his heart. It would have been wonderful if it really had been Minal.
It was then that those big blue eyes looked up from the doll, and the happy humming stopped as the little girl took notice that she was being watched. She turned her head and looked at him, giving a blink of those big eyes.
Silently, they both studied one another for a long moment before a big smile split her round freckled face. There was a gap where one of her front teeth should have been; she had apparently lost one of her baby teeth early.
"You awake!" she chirped happily, with a noticeable lisp to her words.
"Wh...where?" Gimli managed to croak- it was then he noticed how terribly sore and parched his throat was.
"You're with us, Grand-mama and Mama be making you better. I'm helping too! I'm Ayla! And me and Nezry been keeping you safe! Just like Mama said."
"N…Nezry?" Gimli croaked in mild confusion- he didn't see or smell anyone else in the wagon besides the child.
"Yes, Nezry. See! Meet Nezry!" she said proudly, presenting the floppy doll with its red yarn smile and two small blue shell button eyes. "Nezry, meet Mister uh…um, mister…"
"Gimli… Gimli, son of Gloin."
"Nezry, meet Mister Gimy! Gimy, son of Goin!" she said gaily, making one of the doll's arms wave at him. Gimli couldn't help it as an amused smile tugged at one of the corners of his mouth, at the little girl's lispy pronunciation of his name. It was nice to be around such simple cheerfulness.
There came a noise from the round door of the wagon, and they both looked (Gimli moving only his eye) to see a young boy scrambling inside, before closing the door behind him. Gimli guessed him to be about twelve years of age, though it was hard to tell with human children, and he had brown hair like Ayla's, only cut short. He wore a simple green tunic, gray trousers and simple brown shoes, and like his younger sister he too had blue eyes and a light dusting of freckles on his round face.
"Oh! He's awake! Mama will be pleased!" he said with a big smile coming over to sit next to his little sister. She glared at him, her small lips in a pout, before turning her attention back to the bandaged Dwarf.
"That's Istan, he's dumb!" she told him with complete conviction.
"Am not! You little mud bug!" he said, glaring at his little sister.
"Are so!" she chirped, sticking her tongue out at him before hiding her face in her doll. "Not a mug bug… you're a dumb," she mumbled from behind her doll.
"I'm gonna take that stupid doll and toss it out the wagon!" Istan threatened, making a grab for the doll, but Gimli could see it was an empty threat, to scare her. He remembered employing similar tactics with his own little sister, especially when Minal was being particularly bratty. Ayla gave a high-pitched squeal, crushing the poor cloth-stitched doll against herself.
"No!!! Leave Nezry alone!" she cried.
"You gonna stop bein' a pest?" he asked, glaring at her suspiciously. She peeked out from behind 'Nezry' and gave a small nod, but as soon as Istan turned his attention away, she lowered the doll and stuck her tongue out at him again.
"Hi, I'm Istan! That's my little sister Ayla-- she's a real pain. Wow! We thought you were just dead when we found you! Mama and Grandmother said you near died after she sewed you up that first night. You're real strong! We had ta tie ya down and everything, when the fever dreams took you! Oh! Your axes are in the other wagon, Grandmother be watchin' them," the boy explained, amazingly, in seeming one breath.
"We saw all the orc blood! Bet you killed lots of em! The battle! It-- must have been something!" he said in a rush, his blue eyes sparkling with barely suppressed excitement as he looked expectantly at the silent Dwarf.
Gimli just continued to stare blankly at the excited boy, who still waited for him to say something. But Gimli's thoughts where suddenly full of screams and shrieks, of flying hot black blood, maggots, the stench of rotting flesh. Of hungry, bulbous, slitted sickly green eyes, of Nidi's dead honey-brown eyes, of roaring battle cries, swirling stars and a red sickle moon. The dying light in a pair of amber eyes, his axe slamming into his best friend's body, red blood, fire and stars…
"S-something…like that," he managed to whisper, before a sudden racking coughing fit took him. The boy waited until the fit had passed, before silently handing him a rag so Gimli could wipe his hand of the thick black mucus he'd coughed up from his lungs. Istan then got up and picked up a basket from one corner of the wagon, holding it out for Gimli to toss the rag in, before putting it back.
It was then they felt the wagon give a lurch and come to a jarring stop, soon followed by muffled swearing and talking, then the crunching sound of footsteps. The three in the wagon turned their attention to the door as it opened and an old broad-hipped Woman climbed in muttering about something under her breath.
"That's Grand-mama," Ayla explained with a big smile.
The old Woman's face was heavily wrinkled, especially around her thin mouth and the corners of her surprising bright-blue eyes, eyes that looked like they had seen a lot of things in their time. Her long steel-gray hair was tied away from her aged face in a series of simple braids, carved bits of blue shell earrings hung from her small ears, and she wore the traveling dress of a simple peasant. She looked like any other old human Woman he had seen, except, that she had strange blue runes and patterns tattooed on her hands and even parts of her face. The tattoos looked like they continued down the body as well, though he couldn't see with her brown clothes in the way. Tattoos where nothing strange to Gimli, in fact they were quite common with Dwarves, but it was unusual to see any of the other races having them, and in even more so on a human female.
"Well… I see our patient has finally decided to join the land of the living," she said in a rough gravelly voice, as she stood in the doorway, looking at the three. "Ayla, Istan, why don't you go outside and help your mother set up camp," she told the two children.
"Can I stay, Grandmother? Please?" the boy begged.
"Oh, forgive me! I must have made myself unclear. GO!" she ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument as she pointed at the door. With a disappointed groan, Istan got up and trudged out the door. Little Ayla paused in the doorway before turning to give Gimli a wave goodbye.
"Bye bye, Mister Gimy!" she said chirped before disappearing out the door, which the old Woman closed behind the child.
"Well now, I'm sure my two grandchildren have been keeping you entertained," she said, coming over to stand where Istan and Ayla had been sitting. Gimli just looked up at her.
"Let me be making things clear for ya, lad," she explained, while towering over him
"You're more worth to me dead then alive. So if ya keep your trap shut and do what you're told… You just might walk out of 'ere in one piece. Understand?" she demanded. To Gimli she seemed to suddenly grow very tall and intimidating as she stood over him, hands on her broad hips as she gave him a hard look, waiting for his answer…
~~~
A large smoke ring floated serenely in the crisp air as a small smoke horse galloped through it, before both the ring and the horse dissipated into nothingness. Gandalf took another long drag from his pipe and calmly waited for the Dwarf to continue, watching the shadows lengthen as the late afternoon sun started its early descent into the west.
In the distance he could see a large murder of crows circling about near the foot of the Mountain; the Wizard knew they probably circled the camp of Elves and Lake Men, in eager anticipation of the battle to come. The Lonely Mountain itself stood proudly in the afternoon light- Gandalf knew that Gimli's father and uncle, along with the rest of Thorin's company, were probably busily trying to fortify the Mountain as best they could.
He glanced at the young brooding Dwarf out of the corner of his eye, and gave a soft snort of amusement; Gloin would throw a complete fit if he knew of Gimli's being here. Gandalf had no doubt that if he knew, Gloin would march out of the Mountain, storm right through both the armies of the Wood Elves and Lake Men to get to here, then box his son's ears.
Long moments continued to pass by, and still the young Dwarf remained silent, gazing into the hissing and popping flames of their fire. Finally, after blowing his sixth smoke ring and still hearing nothing but silence, Gandalf turned his storm gray eyes expectantly to the Dwarf.
"Gimli?" he asked, both in question and in urging for the Dwarf to continue. One did not have to be a Wizard to know that this dark tale was far from over.
"Forgive me, Gandalf. But I can tell you no more. I gave my word to the Lady Razel and the Lady Raya that I would tell no one of what happened when I was with their company," Gimli said, his voice apologetic as Gandalf watched the Dwarf shift uncomfortably under his piercing gaze.
"I can tell you that I should have died on the side of that road… but by whatever herbs or sorcery, they healed me. Somehow, within only one half cycle of the moon, my body, my arm… my eye, they had healed completely. See? Not even a scar," he said quietly, turning to face the Wizard while gesturing to the left side of his face.
"I should be blind in this eye, have a scar…like Mother's," he said quietly, more to himself than to Gandalf. Unconsciously he run his callused fingers over his left eye as if feeling for a wound that was not there, before letting his hand drop back on to his pulled up knees.
"They purposefully left these scars- said that they would act as a reminder. As if I could forget!" he snorted with a note of bitterness in his voice, motioning to the scars that were visible on his arms and shoulders.
Gandalf opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, seeing the futility of it. Once a Dwarf gives his word few things, aside from torture or threat to family, could break it. Still though, Gandalf found himself terribly curious about this 'Lady Razel'. If what Gimli said was true, and he had no reason to doubt him, this strange healer and her family must be practitioners of some type of magic (1.).
"Now I am forever in their debt," Gimli continued, and bitterness was again evident in his tone.
Gandalf noticed this with some surprise, for Gimli's words were spoken not in seeming gratitude but more in resignation. It became obvious now to the Wizard that whoever these strange benefactors of Gimli's were, they had demanded a payment of some sort for their incredible healing. What that price had been was anyone's guess, but he intended to find out (if not now, then definitely later). The Wizard sat quietly, his gaze turned inward while he thoughtfully stroked his long gray beard, listening as Gimli reluctantly once again continued his story.
"I found out later from the Lady Raya that we had passed Telgor, many days before I had finally awoken. I decided that there was really nothing in Telgor for me… not anymore, so I traveled with them for a time, until they reached where the road splits to the north road and the town of Ocendade. It was there we parted company…"
~~~
Gimli held up a hand in farewell, watching four sets of hands wave back as the two oxen-pulled wagons moved away down the road, before he turned and began walking the other way. His pace was unhurried as he walked down the dirt road, his thoughts turned inward.
He wore a simple, thin, sleeveless, buff-colored shirt that his healers had been able to find amongst their stores of old clothes. The Lady Raya had also mended and washed his ripped trousers, which were tucked into his boots. His thick weapons belt with the comforting weight of his three axes hung about his hips, and his long clean copper colored hair was tied back into a loose ponytail that hung down his back.
He had decided that he would go to Ocendade, where Ursla lived. Ursla was the elder sister of both Shala and Myia; she worked at a brothel by the name of 'The House of the Red Blossoms' in Ocendade. He decided that he owed it to Shala to tell Ursla what had befallen her younger sister and her family, as well as all the others of Black Hollow.
The well-trodden road continued to meander through the pleasant forest (though Gimli thought it just like any other forest he had seen) before the trees receded and the open fields and hills of various farms could be seen. In the distance, Gimli could now see the smoke from many chimneys rising in the air from the large town, that in all rights could have been a small city by its sheer size.
The sun was shining high in a blue sky full of puffy clouds, and a gentle breeze tugged playfully at his hair and short beard as he continued his journey. Gimli glanced up irritably, the glare causing him to squint, before giving a snort of annoyance. It was a far too cheerful day in his opinion, the sunshine doing nothing for his dark mood or the constant ache in his heart.
His back and left arm were still a little sore, but thankfully not really painful. As he rotated and flexed his left arm, he thought of the incredible healing that Lady Razel and Lady Raya had done. Looking at him now, except for being a little pale, underweight and a bit wrung out, one would never have thought he had been at Mandos's door only but one cycle of the moon ago.
A frown marred his face as a memory of something Lady Razel had said and done came back to him then.
"I have given you back your eye and your life, lad. You now owe me and my family a life debt. One day you may be called upon to fulfill that debt… And if you should decide to not honor your debt…remember this. I can take back what was given," the old woman warned, her voice holding an ominous promise.
He nodded his head at her words but remained silent, watching with a strange feeling of dread as her thin withered fingers with their intricate tattoos calmly put a small braided lock of his hair into a small, round silver locket. It was covered in strange red runes in a language that Gimli had never seen before. Perhaps it was a shift of the light or maybe it was just his imagination, but when the locket was closed it looked almost as if the red runes flared momentarily with an inner light.
Gimli unconsciously rubbed his left eye before giving a shake of his head, pushing the memory away, locking it in a far corner of his mind.
Nothing to be done about it now, besides she is old… human; with luck she'll be long dead before she finds use of my debt, he thought to himself(2). It was a strange thing to feel both gratitude and apprehension towards someone, for he genuinely liked the Lady Razel and her family. But he also knew that few kindnesses are done for free, and for her healing of him, Gimli found himself forever indebted….
It was then that the sickeningly sweet odor of rotting flesh reached his sensitive nose and immediately he was on guard. Without even realizing that he had taken them out, he found his two axes in hand and had dropped into a defensive position. The smell instantly conjured memories of the horror back at the Hollow, of the rotting and mutilated corpses, the red light of a setting sun bathing everything in bloody crimson.
His dark eyes scanned the area, looking for any sign of danger, all the while his heart pounding in his chest. To his right- an open field of golden barley, rippling like water in the gentle breeze. To his left was a large wood fence that ran a good distance along the side of the road, enclosing a rolling green pasture where some horned sheep grazed.
That's when he spotted the cause of the smell- the decapitated head of a warg was hanging from one of the large wooden fence posts, some twelve feet away from him. Dropping his defensive stance he let out a rough sigh of relief, immediately relaxing. He gave himself a mental kick, feeling the complete fool as he sheepishly looked around, thankful that no one was nearby to see his overreaction. He put both his axes back in their holsters at his hips, running a broad hand through his hair before continuing on down the road.
As he walked closer, he saw what he had automatically assumed was a warg, was not. Getting a better look, he realized it was in fact the head of a large wolf. He now stood before the fence post, his thick muscular arms crossed over his chest, head cocked in confusion. Hanging by a large nail on the rough wooden fence post hung the wolf's head, a few flies buzzing about the remains. Gimli could tell that this had once been a very handsome animal, male, full-grown but young, with a thick luxurious black coat. Gimli knew that someone was probably wearing it at this very moment, as a fur-lined cloak or other such clothing.
He was confused- why would someone do this to a wolf? They were beneficial, and like the Ravens they were a noble race in their own right, shy, keeping mostly to themselves. They were not evil like the wargs or goblins, so why do such a thing? he thought, while rubbing his short cooper colored beard.
As if in answer, Gimli heard the bleating of the sheep, and he looked past the fence post and into the pasture to see the previously grazing animals being rounded up by two dogs and a boy carrying a stick. So, stealing livestock? Still though, what did Men expect when they moved into their territory? The loss of some animals was an acceptable trade off for the land they took from the Wolves; or so Gimli thought.
With its closed eyes and its partially open mouth, the wolf's face seem to be frozen in a moment of sorrowful anguish. Was it from the agony of its death? Or something else--things not done or simply the sorrow of dying alone at the hands of some uncaring Man? Gimli felt a sudden pang of sadness for the loss of such an elegant creature. No doubt his pack missed him, maybe even a mate or cubs. Would they go hungry because of his loss? Did his family mourn their loss…or was he alone? A lone wolf, with no pack…no family…dying alone.
With a final sad look at the wolf's remains, Gimli uncrossed his arms and continued once again on his way.
As Gimli got closer to town he could see more people walking about, working the fields, running errands. He even had to get out of the way of people on horseback (who he steered well clear of) and several mule-drawn carts, coming and going from town, filled to overflowing with bags of grain, hay and other such things. Before long Gimli had finally reached town.
Ocendade was a cross-roads town bustling with activity, surrounded by pleasant farms and green forests, with the Blue Mountains standing guard in the south. The town was very prosperous, so prosperous that much of what the surrounding farms produced was exported, and there was much trading with the Elves of Lindon to the west and the various settlements of Men to the north and east. Gimli had no doubt that some of the grain and barley would even be headed for the Halls of Ered Luin in the Blue Mountains.
Dwarves were rare in this area, it being mainly an agricultural region and so near the Elven lands of Lindon, but he had traveled here once before, about two summers previously. Myia had somehow managed rope him and Ulfr into accompanying her on a visit to see her eldest sister, as well as picking up some barrels of special ale for Old Man Grad, who owned the tavern in Black Hollow.
It was then, to Gimli's utter jaw dropping shock, that Myia had happily explained that her sister worked at one of the local whorehouses, and that she herself had also worked there before moving to Black Hollow to be with her other sister Shala (who too had also worked there for a time). When they had finally reached town, Myia had literally dragged him into 'The House of the Red Blossoms', with Ulfr tagging along. It was then and there that Gimli had finally met and gotten to know Myia's sister Ursla, who like her younger siblings had black hair, a shapely figure, and an easy going attitude.
He now, once again, found himself headed for the 'The House of the Red Blossoms', dreading what he was to tell Ursla. But it was his duty to inform her and she may even be able to get word to Myia.
~~~
As Gimli walked down the main road he let his eyes take in the town and all its bustling activity. Ocendade was much bigger than Black Hollow, and much nicer. The buildings here were clean, well-constructed wooden, and plaster structures with thatched roofs and even tile on some of the nicer buildings. Shops and vendors lined the main streets, tempting potential customers with their various confections and wares.
Unlike the Hollow, where most of the people either worked in or provided support services to the coal mine, this town's inhabitants had a varying range of occupations. From merchants, tailors, and butchers; to bakers, hunters, and farmers, and many others besides. Walking through, Gimli was surprised to even see several light-haired Elves in gray traveling clothes. No doubt some of them were merchants, by the way one argued heatedly with a tall human over the worth of a large cart full of wine barrels, most likely headed for Lindon. Gimli made sure to steer well clear of them, his hand on the handle of his axe, keeping a wary eye on them until they were out of sight.
Even the ground under Gimli's scuffed up boots was different; unlike the dirt and gravel roads of Black Hollow and many other towns, the streets here were cobblestone and there were even several fountains, both large and small, scattered about (for drinking and decoration). Musicians, jugglers and various other street performers awed small crowds of onlookers for coins, as young pickpockets helped relieve the unwary of their money purses. Yes, this was definitely one of the largest and nicest towns Gimli had been in.
Gimli immediately headed for the west side of town, leaving the main area through some alleyways and side streets, to where 'The House of the Red Blossoms' had been during his last visit here. This area was definitely more run down- the buildings were drabber, and laundry lines, full of clothes, hung above from various windows strung across the alleyways. Children and dogs played below, as tired looking Women swept or simply stood leaning in their doorways. This section of town, being poorer, was also frequented by the more shady residents of Ocendade, thieves, prostitutes, muggers. Luckily most were unwilling to mess with an armed Dwarf, and so most kept their distance.
But when Gimli got to his destination, for some strange reason the brothel was no longer there. In fact nothing stood there but an empty space where some vendors had set up shop. He searched the area, checking other side streets and alleys, even going so far as asking a few people.
Some just shook their heads, others ignored him and some even yelled at him- one particularly vocal Man (who reeked of cheap ale) made the mistake of yelling at him and then insulting his parentage. Being already not in the best of moods, Gimli decided that it was his solemn duty to teach the rather rude Man some much needed manners.
With any luck someone was bound to find the unconscious Man soon. After all Gimli had made sure to leave the Man in the middle of the street, face down in a pile of horse dung.
Gimli decided to wander back to the center of town and get something to eat, before going out and trying again. He strolled around the various shops and stalls, his stomach growling with all the delicious smells, before stopping at one particular vendor. He watched as a red-haired Man with an equally red-haired toddler in his other arm walked away from a large booth, eating what looked like strips of cooked beef put between a sliced bun of bread, with lettuce, tomatoes, and other such accoutrements. Never having had it before, and deciding it looked pretty good, Gimli decide to try it.
"Ah! What can I do for you?" asked a rather jolly Man behind the counter as Gimli stepped forward. He was a great bear of a Man, dressed in simple working clothes with a large belly hanging over his thick belt. His small dark-round eyes were surrounded by heavy laugh lines and a large bush of a beard.
"I'll have one of those," Gimli said, pointing to one of the crudely painted pictures on the wooden counter that depicted the food item he had seen the Man with the toddler eating.
"Ah! Excellent choice, Master Dwarf! Than be me 'house special'!" he said, and Gimli watched him lumber off to make his order.
As he waited by the counter a large jovial Woman, who was no doubt the Man's mate, came over. Her long blond hair was parted and pleated, and her bodice seemed near overflowing with an impressive bosom. Her round blue eyes zeroed in on him.
"Ooooh! And what a precious young Man we have here!" she squealed, which was quite impressive, considering how deep her voice was. Faster than the eye could see, she had reached over the counter with a thick arm.
Gimli gave a rather undignified yelp as his cheek was suddenly caught in a painful pinch- she continued to coo, before he was finally released. He stood there in dazed shock, rubbing his sore cheek; he had definitely not expected that.
"Brunhilda, leave the poor lad alone! You'll be scaring the customers! That be the third one today!" the Man admonished his wife, coming over with Gimli's meal. "Here you are, my good Dwarf!" he said, handing the food over, which Gimli gratefully took.
"My thanks," Gimli said, handing over two copper shillings. He kept a wary eye on the happily smiling and oblivious Woman who stood next to her husband, just in case she tried to attack him again.
"Enjoy!" the Man said happily, and both he and his wife waved as the Dwarf walked away, before turning their cheerful attention to another customer.
Gimli wandered around for a little while before finding a good spot where he could eat his lunch. He sat on the thick edge of a large stone fountain, watching the various people pass by, going about their business as he ate his meal. The fountain was large, with a circle at its center of several stone maidens holding large jugs over their shoulders, from which water poured continuously.
Several other people rested at the fountain, sitting at the edge or standing nearby, out of the way of traffic. As he sat there he planned out what he would do next, deciding that he would see about getting a job while he was here. He knew that he would go through his saved wages rather quickly, if he wanted to get lodgings and food while here.
He would try the local Blacksmith's shop to see if they needed help, before going off and trying to find 'the house of ill repute' again. If he had no luck there, then he would try the local grain dealer- they were usually always looking for strong able bodies to help toss and load the heavy bags of grain.
He finished the last bite of his meal, and knocked the crumbs off his hands. He leaned over the edge of the fountain, and caught some falling water in his broad cupped hands, drinking several handfuls before stepping back, refreshed. He shook the water from his hands, wiping the excess on his trousers before once again moving back into the bustling crowd, heading for the Blacksmith's shop he had seen earlier when he was looking for the whorehouse.
A large bald Man with a big bristly mustache, carrying a butchered pig over his beefy shoulders, forced his way through the crowded street. Gimli watched as he shouldered past two chatting middle-aged Women, who were obviously out shopping. Not paying attention, they both gave a squawk of surprise and anger as the Man uncaringly hit one with his shoulder, almost knocking her down. Her full basket fell out of her hands, scattering various vegetables on the street, but the Man didn't even look back as he walked past. In fact Gimli noted that with the exception of her friend with whom she had been chatting, no one stopped to help the Woman pick up her groceries.
They just simply walked past her and her friend, some not even bothering to avoid stepping on the poor Woman's vegetables.
As he was near, and deciding to be honorable and help them, Gimli bent down and picked up a green apple that had rolled away and managed to rescue a head of cabbage before it was walked on.
"I have your cabbage and apple here. Are you all right, my Lady?" he asked, holding out the cabbage for her to take as he walked over to the two ladies. He stood before them as they finished picking up the last of the poor Woman's groceries.
"My thanks, dear!" she huffed gratefully, glancing up just briefly enough to see a set of large booted feet and the shadow of someone standing in front of her. She and her friend finally got up, full baskets in hand.
"At least someone around here be having some decency to help…" Her cheerful voice trailed off when both she and her friend finally looked up from dusting the last of the dirt off their long skirts, to see a young Dwarf standing expectantly in front of them, holding the cabbage out for her.
Their smiles immediately disappeared and they stared at him blankly for a moment before their eyes narrowed suspiciously. Then the first Woman, who just moments before had been thanking him, stepped forward and snatched the cabbage from his grasp. She jabbed it into her basket before impatiently throwing her hand out again, silently demanding the apple in Gimli's other hand.
At first Gimli was simply stunned, then a spark of anger flared to life. Fine! If that is the thanks I am to be given, he thought.
With that, he put on his most winning smile and held the apple out for her to take. But just as she was going to snatch it back he clamped his strong fingers around it; juice and pulp went flying as he crushed it with no effort. Then he opened his hand again, offering her the dripping pulpy remains of the crushed apple.
The two Women gave matching gasps of shock, their hands flying to their mouths as they stared wide-eyed at him. Maybe it was the sudden show of strength or perhaps the spark of something dark in the Dwarf's eyes, or maybe they just then noticed the three large axes hanging from his belt. Whatever it was they backed away, fear now in their once haughty eyes, as Gimli calmly dropped the apple's remains on the ground at their feet. The two Women quickly fled, leaving the still smiling Dwarf behind.
That will teach them! Gimli snorted to himself, his smile fading as he licked the apple juice and bits of pulp off his hand, watching them scurry away into the crowd. With a final glare at the remains of the crushed apple, he plunged back into the busy and fast moving crowd. The crowds would have been daunting and downright dangerous for a child or a Halfling, but Gimli had no problem, shouldering his way past all the tall bodies as he moved towards his destination.
Many an ignorant Human made the mistake of thinking of Dwarves as being only short, ill-tempered, stubby-limbed, and round-bellied beings, who stood only as high as a Man's waist or as high as the average Hobbit. But the truth was far different, for it was Aule who had designed the race of Durin, and Aule was the ultimate craftsman.
Most Dwarves stood between four and five and a half feet, coming up chest or shoulder height to the average Man. Shorter than Men, yet taller than Halflings. Dwarves were usually heavier and broader built than Men. Their muscle mass was larger and denser than that of Men and Elves, giving them incredible strength and endurance. They could also move with surprising speed if there was a need, making them excellent fighters.
With their oversized upper bodies and thick powerful legs and short torsos, they looked terribly ungainly next the slim and lithe bodies of the Elves. Then again, all races looked ungainly when compared to the Firstborn of Iluvatar.
Gimli made his way over to the local Blacksmith's shop where an old Man was single-mindedly pounding out a horseshoe on a horned anvil with a hammer. Gimli stopped just inside the large doors and gave the shop and its occupants a once-over, before deciding that this looked like a promising place to find a job.
The Man was old with white stringy hair on his nearly bald head, and he wore a thick apron and heavy gloves. He had a rangy build but his arms were strong, corded with muscles from years of pounding out metal. It was a nice shop, clean with the smell of fresh hay and burning coal from the forge.
Business must have been booming, for Gimli could see about five horses and two ponies in the stalls lining the right side of the shop, waiting to be shoed. As well, there was an assortment of weapons hanging up on the far side of the left wall, near a grinding stone, awaiting to be repaired or sharpened.
Gimli patiently waited until the smith was done hammering the shoe and had thrown it into the cooling barrel next to the anvil, before stepping forward, letting his presence be known. Having been around enough temperamental Dwarven smiths, Gimli knew most hated being interrupted while they were working, so it was best to try and talk to them when they were done or in-between projects.
The Smith finally looked up at him with a glare, as he yanked the heavy work gloves off his gnarled hands before shoving them into a large pocket in his apron.
"What do you want?" he snapped in a scratchy voice.
"My pardon, Master Smith. But I'm looking for work and was wondering if--"
"No Dwarves!" the old Man snapped loudly, rudely interrupting him.
"Wha--?" Gimli said, confused and a bit taken aback by the Man's outburst.
"I said, no Dwarves! Can't ya read the sign?!" snapped the Man, jabbing a gnarled finger at something behind the young Dwarf. Gimli looked to where the old Man was pointing and saw a tattered old sign nailed to the open door of the shop that he hadn't noticed before. In bold letters written in common it read: 'DURIN'S' FOLK NOT WELCOME'.
For long moments Gimli just stood looking blankly at the sign; this was not the first time he had come across people and places that did not welcome Dwarves. But it still came as a bit of a shock after living in such fully integrated places like the Hollow, where only one's abilities and hard work counted.
"See, you ain't welcome! Your kind…always stealing the good work…smithy and masonry…thinking' you're better than us!" The old smith continued to rant, but in his fervor he made the foolish mistake of stepping around the large anvil and stomping over to the now quite irate Dwarf, his forging hammer held threateningly in a white knuckled grip (apparently forgetting what else Dwarves are known for).
"Now get out of here! Ya dirty stinkin' dirt--" Whatever insult the smith was going to say was cut off with a sudden gasp. His small eyes went wide in fear as he suddenly found the edge of a very sharp axe under his scraggly chin.
"Watch your tongue, you senile old fart! Or I'll remove it for you!" Gimli warned him, his deep voice now full of sudden menace, his eyes glittering with anger.
"Pissing off the wrong people again, I see. When are ya going learn, Bliddyn?" came a sudden cheerful voice, nearly causing Gimli to jump. Not moving his axe from its position, Gimli turned his head in the direction of the new voice.
Standing in the doorway was a Man, but one like he had never seen before. Gimli could only stare in surprise- the newcomer looked like a Man with short brown hair and a pleasant face; he carried a walking cane and was well-dressed, with a short coat and blue vest with gold buttons. What was strange was that the Man's body seemed disproportionate, his arms and legs were far too short for his torso. He was also severely bowlegged and leaned heavily on his cane for support (3).
The old Smith seemed to immediately recognize the Man. "I didn't do nothing'! Just asked him to leave!" the old Man screeched piteously, still not daring to move for fear of the axe still held under his scraggly chin.
"Liar!" Gimli spat, head snapping back to the Man again. He gave a deep menacing growl- not only was this Man a bigot, but a liar also! If it was possible, the old smith's eyes seem get even bigger, his adam's apple bobbing on his thin neck as he gave a nervous swallow.
"That he is," the small Man laughed. "But please, peace, Master Dwarf!" He waddled over, a hand upraised, until he stood in front of them. Gimli could now see that he was about the size of a tall Hobbit or a very short Dwarf, coming up just below his own shoulder height.
"He is but a crotchety, ignorant old Man," the small Man said, motioning to the old Man with a stubby arm towards the Smith, who shot him a glare but remained silent. "Please allow him to apologize. Bliddyn here meant no insult…did you, Bliddyn?" he drawled, looking expectedly at the old smith, who shot him another withering glare before turning his beady-eyed attention to the Dwarf.
My Dwarven ass he didn't, Gimli thought to himself.
"My apologies….Dwarf," Bliddyn said, fairly spitting out the word 'Dwarf'. Gimli continued to glare, watching the wrinkled Human grow increasingly nervous as the silence stretched, before giving a curt nod, lowering his axe and stepping away. The old Man immediately let out a gasp of relief, before scrambling quickly back behind the anvil, his scowl returning to his withered face.
"Now get out, both of ya!" he yelled in a wavering voice, pointing out the door with a gnarled hand that still held his forging hammer. Gimli just glared in disbelief at the old coot, but the small Man with the cane only gave a laugh and a shrug, before motioning for Gimli to follow him as he turned and ambled out of the shop.
His curiosity sparked, Gimli put his axe back in its holster and followed the Man out of the shop and a little ways down the street, all the while intently watching this curious creature with the cane. He gave a few tentative sniffs of the Man's sent, trying to decipher what race he hailed from, but all his sensitive nose could smell was the reek of Men. Finally the Man stopped and turned to face him.
"Greetings! I am Rhaenye. I'm the town's records keeper and librarian, at your service," the diminutive librarian said, with a short bow.
"Gimli, son of Gloin, at yours," he said, giving an answering bow.
"I was out on my daily walk, when I happened by and saw you. You must forgive him, Master Dwarf. He is but a foolish old man, who blames everyone else for the troubles of the world," Rhaenye said, starting to walk again at a more sedate pace, Gimli falling in step beside him.
"Forgive my ignorance, Master Rhaenye. But… I have never seen one such as you before; what race do you hail from?" Gimli asked, his deep brown eyes studying the librarian that walked beside him. "You smell like a Man, yet…"
"Think nothing of it, my good Dwarf!" Rhaenye said with a laugh. "I assure you I am of the race of Men- I was born this way," he explained.
"Are there others like you?"
"Why yes, there are. My wife is also as I am. Though of our three children one, my eldest, is of 'normal' height. But in this day and age of Middle-earth who is to say what is 'normal' and what is not, eh?" he said with a jovial snort, coming to a stop by another fountain before sitting down with a grunt on the stone bench in front of it. This was one of the several smaller fountains around the town, used only for decoration.
"I had heard that Men such as I, are called 'Nelwens' in some places. Some have even formed small villages of nothing but people just like me," Rhaenye continued. "I have even heard that in some far off places, where Elves, Dwarves, and Dragons are considered nothing but fanciful stories, they call folk born such as I 'Dwarfs'."
Gimli immediately balked at the very thought. "Dwarfs!? Preposterous! Forgive me, Master Rhaenye. But you are no Dwarf-- far from it!" Birth defects were very rare in Dwarves, and the few that were born with severe defects, of a nature that would pose a serious hindrance to work or any type of future manual labor, usually did not live past the first hours after their birth. Infanticide was a dark element of Dwarven society, a society that had no place for the weak who could not work or fight. It was carried out only by females, usually by the actual mothers- males had no say in the matter.
"And don't I know it," Rhaenye said, with a good-natured chuckle. "If I was, I certainly would not put up with half the stupidity that I am forced to deal with."
"I see you must be new in town, yes?" the small Man asked, taking a small handkerchief from his coat pocket to dab at some of the sweat on his brow, before tucking it back in his pocket.
"Aye, though I have visited here once before," Gimli answered, deciding that this Man, being the town's records keeper, might know the location of 'The House of the Red Blossoms', if it was still in existence.
"Very good," Rhaenye said, looking out into the crowds as he enjoyed the sunshine, both his short hands resting on the hilt of his cane.
"Could you help me? I'm trying to locate a certain place," Gimli asked.
"By all means! I know just about every nook and cranny in this town," the Man said proudly, seeming to puff up with pride. "What be the place you seek?"
"Could you direct me to 'The House of the Red Blossoms'? The place where it once stood houses nothing now but a row of vegetable vendors."
"The whorehouse?" Rhaenye said in astonishment, and both of his eyebrows shot up as he turned to give the Dwarf a surprised look.
"Nay! Not for that!" Gimli said quickly, shaking his head and holding up his hands, knowing what the Man must be thinking. " I need to speak with one of the Ladies who works there…. I bring grave news of one of her sisters," he explained.
"Oh…oh. Well then, nothing wrong if you were going for a 'visit'. Getting the itch and all, eh, eh?" Rhaenye said with a laugh, making a clicking noise out the corner of his mouth, a twinkle in his eye. Gimli rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, trying to keep a blush from his face, but the librarian just gave another laugh.
"They moved to the old inn on the south side of town; the old place got gutted by a fire. Just go down that street until you come to the fountain with the stone fish, then go right, three blocks," he directed, pointing down the street.
"Best be careful, that be a bad area of town. Though I imagine you won't be having a problem. Then make a left down the third alleyway-- then just look for the big inn with the red flowers painted on the door. You can't miss it!"
"My thanks, Master Rhaenya!" Gimli said gratefully, giving the strange Man a deep bow before trotting away in the direction Rhaenye had directed, quickly disappearing into the crowds of people.
"My pleasure! Good luck, Master Dwarf!" the diminutive librarian called after him with a smile.
~~~
Gimli stood before the door of what had once been a large distinguished inn, that was now the new home of 'The House of the Red Blossoms'. Someone had painted crude designs of crawling green vines with small red flowers on the side of the door, adding at touch of whimsy to the otherwise drab looking building. He gave the thick door three heavy knocks to let the residents inside know that whoever was at the door was there to visit or speak to someone; just walking in without knocking meant that you were a prospective 'client'.
Like most Dwarves Gimli found places like these completely repugnant. The blatant mistreatment of females, children (and some Men) was utterly barbaric, in his opinion. But he was not the kind to cast judgment on other races and their strange cultures, though he greatly felt like it at times.
Gimli waited patiently for several long moments before he heard some movement followed by someone's angry muttering. The door was finally opened by a rather harsh looking middle-aged Women, who gave him a pointed glare. Was everyone in this damned town of such sour a disposition? Gimli thought tiredly to himself.
"What ya want?" she snapped, as she wiped her flour-covered hands on her noticeably food stained apron, obviously having just come from the kitchen.
"I need to speak with the Lady Ursla," he answered simply.
She gave a snort, mumbling under her breath something about 'Lady, my sore foot,' as she stepped aside and ushered him in, before slamming the door behind him.
"Ursla! Someone here ta see ya!" she bellowed before storming away, leaving Gimli standing in the main entrance.
The interior of the place was fairly dark, and the cloying scent of burning incense hung heavily in the air. Many red pillows, fabrics and drapes were scattered about; the walls were cluttered with numerous tapestries, some of which were quite explicit, depicting various sexual acts and escapades. A few Men, no doubt clients, lounged about in the outer rooms with a few the working Women. Several of them gave him strange looks, which Gimli ignored. The more private rooms were located on the second floor, accessed by a long broad staircase.
Some might have thought the interior decor to be rich and sensually mysterious, but Gimli just thought it horribly tacky-- the tapestries were so vile and crude they were something to be looked at with amusement. The incense did nothing to disguise the musky, sickening smell of Men and the various 'activities' that constantly took place here, from Gimli's sensitive nose. He knew his father would take his axe to him if he knew of his son willingly going into such a place as this, let alone previously been here… Gimli didn't even want to imagine what his mother would do if she were still living- probably skin him alive.
It was then that a curvy raven-haired Women, wearing nothing but a black laced-up bodice and a long green skirt, appeared at the top of the stairs, looking only mildly curious as to who wanted to speak with her.
"Gimli!" she cried, a big smile spreading over her face as she spotted him. An answering smile spread over his own face as he watched her quickly descending the stairs, her large gold hoop earrings ringing merrily as she went.
"Well! If it ain't Myia's 'ansome Dwarf friend. Come in, come in! What can I do for ya, Lov?" she greeted him warmly, giving him a quick embrace and a peck on the cheek, and taking hold of his hands before stepping away to have a look at him. He watched as her smile melted into a worried frown, concern shining in her dark eyes as she took notice of the difference in his appearance since last she had seen him.
"Have you seen Myia? Is she well?" he asked hurriedly before she could say anything, a pleading look in his eyes as he gave her slim hands a squeeze.
"She be more than well," she answered, her smile back in place as she gave his hands an answering squeeze, knowing that he had only asked to avoid her unspoken question.
"That girl! Wilder than a Wood Elf, I tell ya! Drivin' that poor lad, Dreak, to an early grave! Surprised he don't already have gray hairs," she laughed.
"That I have no doubt," Gimli said with a chuckle, letting go of her hands.
"Speakin' of wild, where's that wild friend of yours-- Ulfr, wasn't it?" she asked, looking behind him as if expecting the amber-eyed Dwarf to be lurking about.
Gimli felt his heart give a hard lurch at the mention of his friend's name, and taking a deep breath he opened his mouth to say something… but found that nothing came out. He tried again before giving a harsh shake of his head.
"I-- forgive me Ursla, but… May we go someplace more private? I have grave news to tell you," he said, his tone near pleading.
"Oh dear, this must be serious," she said, her frown back as she unconsciously touched her bottom lip with her fingers. "Come on, up to me room, and you can tell me all about it," she said, motioning him to follow her. Gimli gave a simple nod, and followed as she led him further into the dark interior of the bordello.
"Merry, can you cover for me, for a bit?" Ursla asked, walking up to a very bored looking Woman who was filing her long nails as she leaned against a wall. Gimli decided that she was probably one of the most beautiful (human) Women he had ever seen; her body was almost Elvish looking, her skin a deep rich chocolate brown, and a long mane of thick black tightly curled hair fell down her back.
"Sure thing, Ursla. But it be a bit slow today, so I don't think ya really hafta worry about it none," she said, looking up with a smile, before going back to her nails.
"My thanks, anyways," she said, flashing the statuesque Woman a grateful smile before turning and heading for the large staircase that led up to the second floor and the private rooms. Gimli couldn't help another look back at the dark-skinned Woman, before following Ursla up the stairs.
A willowy dark-haired Woman in a purple robe, a small elegant smoking pipe held in one of her long-fingered hands, walked out of some shadows where she had stood unnoticed. She took a drag from it as she casually strolled over to the bottom of the stairs to get a better look at the two ascending figures.
"Oh, that's a first! Didn't think their kind came into places like this," she said in an amused voice, taking another drag on her pipe as she watched Ursla and the young Dwarf disappear to the right, down the hall at the top of the staircase.
"What's a first? I didn't see," said a petite blond Woman, walking over to stand beside the smoking brunette as she leaned against the stair railing. Her blond hair was parted into two long pleats and she wore a simple long skirt and bodice, the laces left half undone.
"Ursla's got a Dwarf client!" said the taller Woman with a laugh.
"A Dwarf!? Poor girl…"
"Poor girl, me arse! Did you see him? Downright handsome that one--and that hair! I'd kill for that kind of color," she said with a wistful shake of her head.
"But--'andsome? But you said he was a Dwarf!?" May said, blinking in genuine confusion
"Careful, May. Your gaping ignorance is showing," the first snorted, before explaining. "Dwarves be like Men, some be ugly… some be fair," she said with a shrug.
"I am not ignorant!" May huffed, affronted. "Besides, I know these things! Dwarves can't be 'ansome, 'cause they're only a race of short, hairy, mean and ugly Men. They don't even got no women of their own, so they gotta carve their children from stone! My father used to tell me so," she said with complete conviction.
"Really now? And just how many Dwarves have you seen?" the other asked, looking at the small blond from out of the corner of her heavily coal-lined eyes.
"Plenty! There was that one, uh…umm….you know on the road, and…umm--"
"Oh, do shut up," the brunette interrupted with an impatient roll of her eyes, as she blew some smoke out of the corner of her mouth. She gave the top of the stairs one more look, then finally sauntered off, saying something under her breath about 'ignorant farm peasants'. Her purple robe flowing artfully behind her, as she left the confused and insulted blond behind.
"I am not ignorant!" May called after the brunette, giving her foot a stomp and folding her arms over her chest angrily.
~~~
An hour later in Ursla's room…
She lay crumbled in the middle of the floor, her face in her hands as she sobbed, her body shaking with racking tremors. Her green skirt lay in disarray about her, and her long dark hair hid her face as it trailed on the floor from her bowed head, exposing her pale long neck. Gimli sat on the floor nearby, his back against the wall by the room' only window. His head rested against the wall behind him as he stared up at the cracked plaster ceiling, his terrible story and the fate of Ursla's sister now told.
"That foul--! The…the… BEASTS! Oh, me poor Shala! Her little ones! It ain't right!" Ursla cried, smashing a fist against the hard wooden floor, then again, and again, with escalating force. Soon she was pounding on the floor with both fists with all her might, as she near howled in her grief, her large hoop earrings ringing merrily all the while.
When it became obvious that she wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon, Gimli, concerned that she would hurt herself, got up and came over to her. He put a calming hand on her back, calling for her to stop and calm down. When she continued to ignore him, he finally grabbed her gently by the arms and picked her up, away from the floor. No longer having the floor to take her frustrations out on, she turned her blind rage and grief on him, smacking and beating on him with her fists. He winced and grimaced as she fought, scratched and yanked his long hair.
"Why, WHY!?!" she screamed. Her face, her red lip paint was smudged, her black hair in complete disarray, her pain-filled eyes wild as tears streamed unabated down her face.
"Stop! Ursla!! Stop this!!!" he yelled, trying to hold onto her and talk some sense into her. He let out a loud curse in Khazdul, when she grabbed hold of his short beard and gave a particularly vicious tug. It was then that he tripped on her long skirt and down they both went with a crash. Luckily Gimli recovered quickly and getting to his knees, he grabbed the still thrashing Ursla by the upper arms again, dragging the screaming and crying Woman up to her knees with him.
"Ursla! Stop this--damn it all! Ursla!" Still she fought, and finally Gimli had had enough.
"URSLA! STOP THIS!!! he bellowed, giving her a hard shake, causing her head to fly back and forth. Gimli gave an internal wince- he hated to do it, the Dwarven part of him balking at treating a Woman in such a manner, but he saw no other choice.
The shake seemed to work for she stopped; her screams fell silent as she stared at him with wide, bloodshot, but aware eyes. They both stayed that way, staring at one another, their heavy breathing the only sound in the now deathly quiet room.
Seeing that she was now back in control of herself, Gimli slowly let go of her arms, sitting back on his heels. Wordlessly Ursla raised a shaky hand to his shoulder, her long fingers ghosting over some of the thick scars there, before putting her cool hand on his cheek over the red imprint where one of her wild hits had found its mark. It had not been hard enough to bruise his tough skin, but it stung nevertheless. She studied his strong-featured face, his long hair in disarray from her pulling on it, but it was his eyes that held her attention, for in those deep brown pools she saw her own pain, and more, mirrored there. They looked at one another and saw an ally, a friend, and a fellow lost soul.
"Oh Valar! Forgive me! Please forgive me, Gimli!" she sobbed on his shoulder, crushing him in an embrace. She held on to him, her hands fisting the material of his buff-colored shirt, as if he was the only thing keeping her grounded.
"I--I'm so angry! I should be sad, grievin', but I'm only angry. So angry… It's not fair, me Shala… her--her babies…" she sobbed.
Gimli said nothing, staring off into space, his own emotions a whirl. He calmly patted her back and unconsciously began to rock her gently in his arms, both of them taking the simple comfort of being held.
"I feel like there's a wind storm, Gimli." Ursla said in a soft voice, barely above a whisper, after her sobs had finally stopped. "It be feelin' like I'm being carried away, like a dried up old leaf."
Gimli stared unfocused over her shoulder, his dark, now hollow-looking eyes dry of tears, his true gaze directed at old memories that flashed through his mind.
"Me too…"
There they stayed in silence, their thoughts far away- from the room, the whorehouse, and the town of Ocendade. Away south, to the smoking ruins of a small coal mining town.
It was long moments later that they heard the sound of hurrying feet out in the hall, and they both turned to look at the door, right before it burst open. Three Women stood in the doorway; one was armed with a broom, another with a rolling pin, all with expectant and concerned faces (4.).
"Ursla!" yelled the small brunette, with the broom.
"What in Mordor is going on in here?!" demanded the one brandishing the rolling pin.
"Ursla! Are you alright, girl!?" asked the small blond one that had opened the door.
The Women's eyes visibly bulged as they took in the scene of the two on the floor before them. With their disheveled hair, their clothes in disarray, both of them flushed and in a tight embrace on the floor, it was not hard to imagine what they must look like to the three. The silence stretched as the two groups continued to stare at one another, before Ursla began to tense and her temper snapped.
"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OOUUUUUT!!!" Ursla screamed angrily at them, all of a sudden. Gimli grimaced, his eyes scrunched shut at the sheer volume, her screams being almost right in his ear since she still clung to him. The three jumped and quickly scrambled out the door, which slammed after them. The two on the floor looked at the door for a moment, before turning to one another.
"You know, they were only worried--it should be comforting knowing that they would come to your aid," Gimli said, a small smile creeping at the corners of his mouth. Ursla rolled her eyes with a snort as she finally released him from their embrace.
"What took 'em so bloody long?! I'd be long dead, if ya really ad been killin' me!" she said, while angrily wiping at her tears. "I imagine I be lookin' a complete fright," she said, giving the Dwarf an embarrassed glance, before stumbling up and going over to her dresser that doubled as a vanity.
"I imagine I'm no better," he said, running his hands through his thick hair as he got up as well, before walking over to the wall and taking a seat by the window.
Ursla's room was medium-sized, with a large bed pushed against one wall near the room's one large window. There were several chests, a small writing desk, and a large wooden dresser. A smaller dresser, the top of which was covered in various bottles and brushes, was equipped with a large polished silver mirror and a stool in front of it, where Ursla now sat as she cleaned herself up and fixed her makeup.
Gimli looked out the window, watching a clothesline hung with numerous undergarments sway with the breeze. A small finch was perched on the line, grooming its feathers.
"Forgive me, Ursla. I was unable to--," he started to apologize, but she cut him off.
"You be stoppin' that, this instant!" she demanded, whipping around on the stool to spear him with a look that would take no argument. "It wasn't your fault! The fault be with that vile snake Rowell, and them drivers, them bloody goblins! Not with you or anyone else!
"What I did--Oh! Just ignore that! I was bein' an idiot, gone plum out of my mind!"
"No… You were just in pain…shock," he said softly, from where he sat leaning against the wall. Silence fell once again as she turned around and began fixing her hair, running a thin bone brush through her dark locks.
"My poor Shala--she'd gone so far… Only to have such a thing happen…. It's not fair, them's getting away with--, " She suddenly froze, her eyes going wide with a sudden realization, and a moment later her bone brush dropped to the floor, forgotten.
"Wait! One of them wagon drivers comes here every two weeks!" she said, in a near breathless gasp.
Gimli immediately sat up at hearing this, his complete attention locked on her as she quickly got up and began to pace. He felt his heart rate speed up in his chest; he'd pretty much given up all hopes of ever finding Rowell or any of the other wagon drivers, of being able to take revenge for what they had helped do. He got to his feet as well, waiting expectantly for her to continue, a new fire coming back to his eyes.
"Bastard! Goes by the name of Tir. He's not one 'o my clients, but he be one of Ruby's regulars! Always makes a point of comin' in, always flirtin' all the girls up. Flirtin' me up. All this time and he knew…knew about Shala, her babies…talking me up, with that slimy smile 'o his!" she growled, her hands balling into white-knuckled fists as she seethed with anger.
"If we can get him alone--get him to tell where the rest of them snakes be at!" she said excitedly, the flames of retribution flashing in her gray-blue eyes as she looked at Gimli.
"Where Rowell is at!" Gimli added. "I'll make him pay for the agonies he and all the others caused!" he promised, a malevolent grin splitting his face.
"I'll ask Merry to have a talk with Miss D--she's the headmistress of this here place. Merry be D's lover. And if anyone can get Ruby to talk, it will be her!"
"Why not simply demand it from this 'Ruby' Woman?" Gimli asked in confusion.
"'Cause that cancerous bitch can't stand me. Sooner be cutting' off her own hand, than help me." Ursla said with obvious venom, as she gave herself one final look over in the mirror. Gimli open his mouth to ask something, but she cut him off, seeing his expression in the mirror.
"Trust me. Ya don't wanna know," she said, turning around. One would never have been able tell that she had been crying and in hysterics only a short time ago. Her hair, coal-lined eyes, and lip paint were once again perfect, though her eyes now glittered with pain and a hot anger that had not been there before.
"Fair enough," Gimli relented with a shrug, running a hand through his thick hair.
"Come on, Luv, let's get some food in ya, for the time bein'. I think Mavis made a big pot 'o stew this morning'," she said, walking to the door while re-tying the laces of her black bodice that had become loose earlier.
~~~
The kitchen was very spacious and airy, with several large windows and a sizable cooking hearth. A long heavy counter sat in front of it- this was where most of the food preparation was done. There were several entrances that led to various parts of the bordello, and a door in the back opened to a small courtyard where a tall tree stood. Many shelves and cabinets lined the walls, and a large wooden table with several chairs dominated the center of the room.
It was here that Gimli sat, his boots dangling but a few inches from the polished flagstone floor, as he voraciously finished up a bowl of simple rabbit stew. Surrounding the table were a few Men and a large group of Women, some of whom were fully dressed and others only partly, brazenly not caring about their nudity. They chatted amongst themselves, as they watched the newcomer that Ursla had introduced before leaving to talk with the headmistress.
Having finished his bowl, Gimli turned big beseeching eyes to the blond older Woman beside him, who was wearing an apron. "My Lady Mavis, truly only your loveliness could surpass your wondrous cooking. Please, I must beg another bowl of your delicious stew," he said, laying on the charm as he held out the bowl.
Lady Mavis, a pleasantly plump and round faced Women, gave a delighted laugh as a blush colored her cheeks prettily. She took his empty bowl and ladled some more into it before setting it in front of him again.
"My eternal thanks, my Lady," he said, giving her a roguish smile and a wink.
"Ooh! Best be careful, ladies, this one here could charm the knickers right off an Elven Queen, I reckon!" she said with a laugh, as the Dwarf began to dig in with gusto.
"That's not a problem-- some of us aren't wearing any!" said a tall beautiful Woman, holding a slim pipe carved with complex designs, who was standing nearby. She had coal-black hair that hung loose nearly down to her waist, and she was pale, long-limbed and stood brazenly in a red robe left open (leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination). "Hey there, handsome. If the nights get too cold, I can help warm you up. No charge," she cooed with a promising wink, blowing a small smoke ring.
Gimli would have flushed beet red if he had been paying attention, but he was so focused on eating at the moment, the Elven King of Mirkwood could have been on the table dancing and doing a strip tease, and Gimli would not have noticed.
"Pearl, you bring new meaning to the term 'whore'! Child, do you have any decency?" said a fully dressed older Woman, with tightly bound brown hair that was shot through with gray.
"Oh, shit on your 'decency'" Pearl said, rolling her eyes.
"There is no need to be vulgar!" sniffed the other haughtily.
"Vulgar? Ha! This is a whorehouse, if you haven't noticed," said the younger Woman sarcastically. She took a long drag on her pipe and exhaled purposefully in the older Woman's face, who coughed and waved her hands before her, trying to ward away the smoke.
"Don't see what all the fuss be about. It's just some mangy Dwarf," sniffed another Woman disdainfully. She was the same dour Woman with the stained apron, who had let Gimli in earlier.
"Careful, May! You keep staring so hard and you're going to burn a hole in his head!" a lithe young Man laughed, poking the small blond in the ribs. He was fully dressed in a simple gray tunic and leggings; he was one of the three male prostitutes that worked the brothel.
The small blond Woman gave a startled jump, before turning and shooting him a glare. Then she turned back to stare mystified at the Dwarf, who was paying absolutely no attention to any of them as he continued to nearly inhale his stew.
"I don't understand… they're supposed to be ugly… old …fat…" May mumbled, clearly not able to comprehend the strange copper-haired Dwarf in front of her. The young Man beside her only giggled at her mystification.
"I don't like Dwarves, they're just so…well you know," said another Woman, looking down her nose at him while filing at one of her long nails.
"Oh! He's adorable! Can we keep him?" squealed a young lady who was sitting on the side of the table, her near-red hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of her head with a ribbon.
"This one just ain't my type--I like them Elves better. What think you, Elise?" asked another, looking to the Woman beside her, who shook her head in disapproval.
"Elves, Dwarves--Bah- to the lot of them! Stick to your own kind, I say!" she grumped, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Aye, he's handsome alright, but I like me Men a bit taller. This one only comes up to my chest," said a tall blond Woman, standing on the other side of the table, on Gimli's right.
"Doesn't sound like a problem to me- just the right level," said a plump dark-haired beauty with a smirk, giving her impressive bosom a shake.
"I don't know, I like my Dwarves a bit older--more beard, and with a bit more meat on their bones, too. This one's downright skinny," said a handsome brown-haired Man clad only in a patterned brown robe, his long hair falling past his shoulders, as he watched Gimli start on his third helping of Mavis's stew.
"What are ya talking about, Draco? We ain't never had any of Durin's folk come here as-- well, none as actual 'clients' anyways," said a short Woman with equally short auburn hair.
"Not here- when I was living in Shiprock, working at the local tavern," he said, his voice holding a note of annoyance.
It was just then that Lady D, followed by Ursla and Merry, swept into the kitchen, and all chatter immediately ceased.
She stood there, her folded fan in both hands, an arched eyebrow raised as she regarded the large group around the table with her storm-gray eyes. She was a tall older Woman who still had a regal beauty about her. Her flame red hair was held high on her head in a complicated bun, the color being the more orange type of red hair that humans had (not the truly deep reds of the Dwarves), shot through with silver at her temples. She wore a dress and bodice of deep forest-green with a black shawl over her thin shoulders, and a dainty pair of black laced-up leather boots.
"Elizabeth, your regular is here. As for the rest of ya-- standing around like a gaggle of geese. Get going. Shoo! Shoo! Get out of 'ere, the lot of ya!" she ordered, as the various ladies and Men drained quickly out of the kitchen, leaving only the four in the large room. Gimli had gotten up from his chair, having pushed his empty bowl away at the three's arrival, and now stood in front of them.
"So this be the Dwarf?" the older Woman asked, looking the young Dwarf over with a critical eye, her gaze lingering on his axes.
"Miss D, meet Gimli, son of Gloin," Ursla introduced them, coming to stand by Gimli's side and putting a hand on his shoulder.
"At your service," Gimli said with a deep bow.
"At yours," she greeted back. "Please, have a seat," she said, motioning for him to sit back down, which he did. The lovely dark-skinned Merry also took a seat at the table, in an empty chair opposite from him.
As he sat down, he noticed that someone was peering unobserved through the entrance to the kitchen, behind the standing Lady D, obviously trying not to be seen. By the small delicate hand, the mass of wavy brown hair, and the large pair of liquid black-eyes, Gimli guessed it to be a young Woman. Why she was hiding he couldn't guess- perhaps she didn't want to be caught eavesdropping on a conversation? Whoever it was apparently caught sight of him watching her, for she gave a little jump and disappeared. Gimli turned his attention to the red-haired Woman when she began to speak.
"So… Ursla here tells me that you would like me to hand over Tir. So you both can get information and some form of…retribution, yes?" she asked, watching as both Gimli and Ursla gave sharp nods.
"I will be perfectly honest with you--including you, Ursla. I don't give a 'Hobbit's ass-hair' about this Black Hollow, or any of the people in it. I care only for those under this roof, and under my care. But!" She held up a hand, effectively stopping the tirade that Gimli and Ursla had begun to voice. Both of them were visibly bristling at her words and dismissive tone.
"Dastardly villain or not, he's a regular customer who pays well… So, why should I let you have him, when he is a steady and valuable resource?" she asked, once again holding up a hand to stop them from saying anything. "I'll give you Tir, but… you must do something for me in return," she said, tapping her fan against her palm.
"What do you propose?" Gimli asked warily, one copper eyebrow cocked, after looking at Ursla and getting an eager nod.
"I want you to help me take care of a continuing problem, by the name of Crasus," she said, before explaining further in a calm and businesslike manner.
"He works over at the granary, comes here almost every week. He cut up one of my girls. Cut up her face…bad. Just 'cause she gave a little giggle at how small his pecker was. She didn't mean nothing by it. She didn't know no better. She's just a girl, seventeen summers--"
"A child!? You let a mere child work in a place like this!" Gimli roared, now glaring at the headmistress in angry disbelief. What was wrong with these people!?
"Don't you dare be getting that way with me! What would you prefer? Her out on the streets, begging? She'd be a lamb for the wolves out there!" she snapped angrily at him, as they both glared at one another. "This ain't no little mining town or village; this be a whole other world, full of its own dangers, just like any of those in the wilds."
Gimli held his tongue, wanting to say more, but caught Ursla's gaze; she gave a small shake of her head, motioning for him to stay quiet.
"Here she has a bed, food, friends. People who look out for her, she's safe under this roof-- "
"Sounds like you haven't done a very good job so far of keeping' her 'safe'," Gimli said sarcastically, looking her right in the eye.
Her thin painted mouth tightened, and the color drained from her face; she suddenly looked as if she might lash out and strike him for his words, as she stared down at him with eyes of pure ice.
If she had been a Dwarf female, Gimli knew he'd probably be sprawled across the room by now, but instead she kept her storm gray eyes locked on his. They both continued to stare at one another, the heavy tension causing both Ursla and Merry to shift uncomfortably as they watched the two face off.
With a defeated sigh, Lady D finally broke away, turning to stare out the door leading to the small courtyard for a long moment. Finally she turned back to him, her eyes flashing with pain and anger that was directed more at herself than at him.
"All I want is justice!" she demanded angrily, her hands fisting around the folded black fan.
Gimli watched her, saw the tension in her shoulders as she struggled to replace her mask of cool uncaring. So… the Ice Queen has a heart after all, he thought to himself. Merry looked concerned and was going to get up and go to her, but Lady D saw this and motioned for her lover to remain seated.
The silence remained unbroken, and Gimli decided to speak, cutting the tension in the room.
"Tell me more about this Man."
"The bastard be an old friend of Clots--cut some deal with him. Damn him anyway!" she spat, pulling her shawl tighter about herself and feeling grateful to the Dwarf for breaking the silence. "So he comes back here, always asking for her--don't want anyone else, always her. Thinks he owns her or something, now."
"Aye! Sam's dragged him out of here more times than can be counted. And that Crasus is always allowed back!" Ursla, added from where she stood next to Gimli's chair.
"As long as he's lining Clots's pockets with gold, Clots will keep letting him back," Lady D said with a note of finality in her voice.
"Clots?" Gimli asked in confusion, looking back and forth between the two Women.
"Master Clots be the owner of this place," Lady D answered.
"Can you not stop this Crasus?" demanded the Dwarf, rolling the strange name over his tongue like a bad taste.
"We've tried everything. From literally standing in his way, to begging, my others girls even offering themselves--nothing works," she said with a tired sigh, unconsciously rubbing a large ring on her finger.
"Aye, the local authorities and even our clients don't care. They don't be caring about a bunch of whores--'specially not in this section o' town," Urlsa agreed sadly, taking a seat on the table next to Gimli's chair.
"Just when I think I have the race of Men understood, their strangeness is only driven further home. Women not knowing how to fight--kept more like servants!?" he said, shaking his head in utter bafflement. "Treating Women as such…it's, it's utterly barbaric!" he said angrily, slamming his fist into his palm.
"I must agree with ya there, Master Dwarf!" Lady D said with a laugh, an approving look on her face. "I can now see why Ursla and Myia are so fond of your kind."
"Told ya!" Ursla chirped with a wink, and gave one of Gimli's thick forelocks a playful tug, earning her a mock glare from the Dwarf.
"So…we have a deal then? Crasus for Tir?" Lady D asked.
Gimli got up from his chair.
"Aye. Crasus, for Tir," he agreed, giving her a bow, sealing the deal.
"Good! Now then. Sam, my usual bouncer, is out sick for a few days. You can fill in for him until Master Tir shows up. Some of our clientele can get a bit rowdy," she explained dryly.
"Until then you can stay in one of our spare rooms. I'm not gonna pay ya-- but I can guarantee you a good bed and three square meals a day while you're here.
"I'll expect you to do your job at 'any' hour of the night or day! You hear a shout, you come running. Got it?" she asked, spearing him with a firm gaze.
He gave a curt nod of his head, not particularly relishing the idea of staying and working in this place, but seeing no other option at the moment.
"I understand," he said with a small bow, getting up from his chair.
"Good. And don't be expecting any 'freebies'.
She gave a bark of laughter, the other two Women also laughing as a deep red blush burst over his face and he started to sputter in staunch denial.
"Peace, Master Dwarf!" she said with a laugh. "Dwarf though you be, Ursla tells me that you are still a Male. So I must lay out some ground rules, yes?"
Gimli gave a nod of understanding, but kept his mouth closed, still a bit flushed. He shot Ursla a withering glare as she still snickered behind a hand, and crossed his muscular arms over his chest.
"Good, Ursla will show you to the spare room. Get some sleep," she ordered, shooing them both out of the kitchen.
"D, what if Master Clots comes back? And even if he don't, he's bound to find out about Crasus," Merry said, coming over to stand by the older Woman, a worried expression on her elegant face.
"Don't worry none about Master Clots. He won't be out of bed for a few days…and very soon we won't have to worry about him at all," she said simply.
As Gimli followed Ursla to one of the entrances that lead up to the second floor, he watched as Lady D unconsciously stroked the large ring on her finger. To anyone else it looked like a large intricate silver ring, but to Gimli's Dwarven eyes it was clearly a 'poison' ring. Specially made so that none would suspect that the beautiful ring stored a deadly poison, it could be opened by its owner so they could slip said poison into their victim's food or drink.
Gimli suspected that the brothel owner, Master Clots, was not destined to be in this world much longer. He said nothing as he followed Ursla out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
~~~
It was two days later when Crasus finally came for a visit. As usual he demanded that young Gwen wait on him, not taking no for an answer, shoving aside anyone in his way. He tossed a small bag of gold coins at a scowling Lady D, and with a smug smirk, he then stomped up the stairs to Gwen's small room to wait impatiently for her.
Crasus was a Man of average height and a skinny build, with sandy blond hair and blue eyes. He was neither good looking, nor bad looking- he was just very nondescript. None of his family, friends, or even his fellow coworkers, would ever have suspected that the nice jovial Crasus had a mean sadistic streak, and that he took great sexual pleasure from hurting Women. The weaker, the better.
When she still hadn't arrived at the 'proper' time his anger began to rise, he started to grumble, while sitting heavily on the small simple bed.
"Where is she?! Damn whore, making 'me' wait! I pay good money and here I wait!" he ranted, working himself up into a real rage as he pulled off his dirt-incrusted boots, his back facing the door.
He'd teach that little cunt a thing or two! he thought heatedly to himself. He could feel himself harden as he thought about dominating her, hitting her, her pathetic cries as he beat her frail small body. Her plaintive pleas for mercy, begging for his forgiveness as he bruised that pale young flesh. Showing her that she was nothing! That she was his, his alone!
Oh yes. He'd put her back in her place! he thought to himself, closing his eyes as rubbed his hardened erection through the rough fabric of his trousers with one of his hands. On her back like the whore she was…she and all women. Women-- they were all whores, only good for--"
Crasus's thoughts were interrupted as he heard the door creak open behind him, then close. If he had been paying more attention to his surroundings and not to his dark sadistic fantasies, he might have heard the heavy 'click' of the door being locked from the outside.
"There you are, you little bitch! Making ME wait, I'll teach you to make me wait--" he snarled, getting up and turning around to glare at the frightened girl.
Except it wasn't a seventeen-year-old girl standing in front of the door.
Crasus stared open-mouthed and completely dumbstruck. Instead of the cowering and waif-like form of Gwen, there was a short bearded, young Dwarf; a mad looking Dwarf.
"What the--where's Gwen!? Who the fuck are you?!" he demanded angrily, recovering from his initial surprise, but the Dwarf ignored his words.
"I hear tell you like to hurt people, especially a mere girl-child at that," the Dwarf said in a deep rumbling voice.
"What?! Listen, I have no quarrel with you--"
But the Dwarf wasn't listening-- instead he calmly pulled his sleeveless shirt over his head, before tossing it on the small table by the bed. Crasus took a step back as the Dwarf moved a few steps closer.
"This be some kind of mistake--"
But the Dwarf said nothing, just continued to glare at him with his frightening dark eyes, full of fire and blatant disgust. The play of thick powerful muscles flexed and moved just under the Dwarf's tanned skin as he began to crack his thick knuckles, one at a time.
Now Crasus was starting to panic; he was trapped- the Dwarf stood blocking his only exit, for he knew the room's only other door, leading to an adjoining room, was always locked. He felt his heartbeat speed up as warning bells went off in his head. Hitting and beating a small Woman or girl was one thing; taking on a Dwarf was an entirely different story.
"I warn you, Dwarf! I have no--" he threaten, trying to sound calm. But once again the Dwarf ignored and interrupted him.
"Let's get started, shall we?" the Dwarf suggested, shaking his hands out before lowering his muscular compact form into a loose fighting stance, both hands now balled into large fists.
~~~
In the adjoining room next door, a small group had gathered to listen to the huge commotion coming from just on the other side of the wall. Bangs, thumps, and all sorts of violent noises continued interspersed with the occasional yell and scream.
Eventually the ruckus died down, and someone knocked on the adjoining door three times. One of the group unlocked then opened it, revealing Gimli standing there, putting his sleeveless shirt on again.
The young Dwarf gave a big yawn, apparently not even having broken a sweat. "This Man has got to be one of the saddest fighters I have ever seen," Gimli said, shaking his head in disappointment while smoothing out his shirt.
"Figures… Would you kindly bring Master Crasus in here?" Lady D asked, stepping aside from the door to make room for him.
Gimli disappeared back into the room, and a few moments later a beaten and bloodied Crasus came literally flying though the door, to land with a crash and a loud 'Ooughf'! Gimli leisurely strolled back into the room and, closing the door behind him, walked to stand by the moaning Man lying in the middle of the floor.
Lady D, stepped forward and tossed Gimli a length of rope, which he caught. "Tie his hands," she ordered, and Gimli did as he was told, quickly tying the Man's arms behind his back.
There were three other people in the room besides the older red-haired Woman. Sitting on the bed was the long-legged Merry, her long curly black hair held away from her elegant face in a loose bun. Ursla stood next to the window; she flashed Gimli a smile before turning a piercing glare at the panting Man on the floor. Standing in the protective circle of her arms was a small thin Woman-child. Gimli immediately recognized her as the one who had been eavesdropping several days ago in the kitchen.
She was petite, pale and willowy, with a full mane of loose wavy brown hair, and she was clad in a deep blue skirt and a sky-blue laced bodice. She was clearly frightened, near trembling as her large doe eyes watched Crasus with fear, her heart-shaped face bearing the marks of Crasus's crimes. When Gimli saw her face he felt a new flash of hot anger- Lady D and Ursla had not been exaggerating.
A large, still healing, pink scar ran from the corner of her small rosebud mouth, pulling up the side of her face in a hideous mockery of a grin. Another ran across her brow, and several smaller slashes on the left side of her delicate face had been gouged out deeply by a knife. It was obvious that she had once been truly lovely, but Crasus had viciously ruined her looks forever.
"Beg for her forgiveness, wretch!" Gimli demanded, then proceeded to grind the Man's face into the floor before yanking him up and onto his knees facing Gwen.
"You little cunt!" the Man spat, glaring at the trembling girl. "This be all your idea, wasn't it!? When I get hold of ya, I'm go--oughf!" Whatever else he was going to say was lost as Lady D calmly hiked up her long skirt and kicked him squarely in the ribs, causing him to crumple to the floor again.
"I've been waiting to do that for quite some time now!" she said cheerfully, looking at Gimli, who gave an amused snort. She calmly motioned for Gimli to pick the now wheezing Man up again. "If you would, dear?"
Gimli simply grabbed a handful of the Man's hair, forcing him again up onto his knees, causing Crasus to grimace in pain.
"Now… let's try this again, shall we?" she said sweetly, her black fan under his chin, propping his head up. "Good boy! Now apologize," she ordered, steel in her words as she stepped back, waiting expectantly. But all he did was glare at her, and she was just going to step forward to hit him in the face, when a soft voice stopped her.
"Wait!"
All turned to look at Gwen as she stepped away from Ursla, before slowly walking over to stand in front of the glaring and bloodied Man. Her body visibly trembled and one of her thin arms wrapped around her self as if she had a chill.
Strangely she reminded Gimli then of little Nidi, who was also very timid and soft -spoken by nature. He felt a pang of loss as he remembered his sweet-natured friend, before forcing it to the corner of his mind again. Now was not the time or place for memories.
"Why?" she asked Crasus in a whisper, lifting a trembling hand to her scarred face.
All was quiet in the room save for the Man's heavy breathing, then a sneering smile crept over his face, the blood from his split lip and two missing teeth coloring the rest of his teeth pink and red.
"Because I could," he said finally, even giving a shrug of his shoulders as if it were no big deal.
Little Gwen's body went perfectly still, the whites of her eyes growing, and seeing this Crasus gave a chuckle. The chuckle was apparently the last straw.
"I HATE YOU!!!" she screamed as she launched herself at him, slapping him with all her might. That seemed to open the floodgates and she attacked him with a barrage of scratches and slaps, even kicks, all the time screaming a litany of "I hate you!", over and over.
Crasus tried to move away from her attack but Gimli's iron grip on his hair kept him from doing so. Eventually she began to wear herself out, then Ursla stepped forward to pull the sobbing girl away. Gwen immediately turned and buried her red and tear-stained face in the older Woman's chest, holding her in a crushing grip. Crasus definitely wasn't smiling anymore, and Gimli made a point of shoving his face into the floor, before stepping back.
"Come on, Luv. Lets go get some tea and clean you up, while Miss D and Gimli take care of this filth," Ursla said, looking down her nose in contempt at the moaning, bloodied and scratched Man, while calmly rubbing the sobbing Gwen's back.
Gimli watched as she led Gwen from the room, their footsteps disappearing down the hall. Lady D waited until their footfalls were completely gone, before hiking up her thick skirts over a long shapely leg. She took out a knife from a leather garter belt that was strapped to her leg, before letting the skirts fall back in place.
Gimli, hearing some movement behind him, turned around just in time to see Lady D calmly walk over to the cursing Crasus-- stepping over his back, she grabbed a hold of his hair and yanked his head sharply back. Crasus only managed to get out an angry squawk of surprise before she slit his throat from ear to ear, his eyes bulging obscenely before she dropped his head, letting it fall with a loud thump.
"Finish your enemies or they will only come back, all the more vengeful," She said simply, glaring down at the still twitching Man. Her words hung in the air and all remained quiet, except for an occasional soft gurgle from the sprawled body. For a moment, no one moved, then she bent down to calmly wipe her knife off on his shirt, before putting it back.
Merry watched with wide shocked eyes from her seat on the bed, a hand clamped over her mouth, her chocolate brown skin growing pale. Gimli only stared, giving a few blinks at what he'd seen, but otherwise felt nothing. The Man got exactly what was coming to him.
A large pool of blood slowly spread under the now dead Man, but Lady D simply stepped over the body before it could get on her shoes. She then calmly held out an elegant hand, beckoning Merry to her.
"Merry, my Love… Come, let us go."
Merry silently got off the bed and quickly came to her side, giving the body on the floor a wide berth, then took her hand before they both walked past Gimli to the door. The older Women paused, turning to look back at the Dwarf, motioning with her other hand for Gimli to follow as well.
"Come, Master Dwarf. There is still work to be done. Not to mention disposing of this… refuse," she said, before leading Merry out the door, their heavy skirts swishing behind them.
As he followed the two statuesque Women down the hall, Gimli couldn't help wonder just how many times the headmistress of this bordello had done this.
Within a half-hour, the floor was cleaned and all the bloody rags burned in the cooking fire in the kitchen, destroying all evidence of foul play. Meanwhile Crasus's body had been dumped in an alleyway; when he was found, it would no doubt be thought that he was just another victim of a mugging or robbery.
It was anyone's guess if it had been justice, but at the very least young Gwen would never have to worry about Crasus again.
Now with his part of their bargain fulfilled, Gimli waited for Lady D to fulfill her half of the deal…
Well hope you enjoyed….
Next part coming soon!
Forgive me, but I just love the idea of Dwarven culture being "Female dominant", and that mindset carrying over some when they deal with females from other races. I also really like the idea of Gimli simply adoring Women, being very honorable but seeing them as complete equals.
(1.) Being a Wizard, it only makes sense that Gandalf would want to know more about the other types of magic out in Middle-earth. Keep an eye on the competition.
(2) I may do a sequel fic, depending upon the amount of interest I get. Dealing about Gimli's debt, and what happened when he was with Lady Razel and her family.
(3.) Yes, he's a human 'Dwarf', suffering from the syndrome that causes 'dwarfism' in humans. But he's not a "true" Dwarf, like the Dwarves in LOTR.
(4.) Yes, I got the idea from the movie. When Sam, Merry, and Pip burst through the door at the Inn, trying to come to Frodo's rescue, from the mysterious Strider.
