Chapter Two: Of Dwain

Flames from the torch bounced off the many different colors in the caves. Silvers, gold, greens, rubies, and crystal all danced with the light. Dwain had lived with this his whole life yet it still fascinated him. The people of Rohan called this place Dwarf's Deep, though it's origainal name had been Helm's deep. King Eomer of Rohan had given the battle ground to Gimli for his people to live and cherish the caves there. Dwain had been one that had been birthed there.

His father was none other than Gimli, elf-friend. Dwain had met this elf once. Legolas had surprised Dwain with his down to earthness and his nature. He was most unlike how the elves had been described. When Dwain had asked his father about it after Legolas left, Gimli told his son that Legolas was more of a warior elf, not like Galadriel, who was distant from the earth. Legolas also had a son. Feanar had confused Dwain more than his father. Feanar had a love for the caves quite like his own, and a strange love for weapons that was matched only by Dwain. He and Dwain were the same age, yet were different in appearance as apple and oranges. Dwain had rose red hair and green eyes. He was short, as was normal for a dwarf. Feanar on the other hand, was tall for an elf his age, which was about seventeen at the time, had raven black hair, and deep blue eyes that seemed to hold understanding that outstreched his years. Despite these diffrences, Dwain and Feanar had become great friends.

Dwain dragged his mind off of Feanar, making his mind stay on the task at hand. He pulled the door to the main chamber open, and entered. Many colors clashed and calmed one another on the walls and roof. And there amongst it all was his father. The eyes of which many orcs had seen last in their lives flicked upwards when the door slamed shut behind Dwain. He took in sight of his son, then carefully placed his work on the table in front of him. Gimli got to his feet.

"Dwain, gald you came." Gimli placed his hands on the younger dwarfs sholders. "How are things?"

"The dwarves in the back cavern hit a large strech of iorn." Dwain began but Gimli cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"This is not the reason for my calling you, a report." Gimli turned from his son. When he spoke again, his voice was full of worry and curiosity. "The Lord Elessar is calling for a meeting in Minas Tirith. I wish for you to come with me to represent the dwarves of the south caverns." He took a few steps forward, then turned and looked hard at his son. "Bring your closest friend, for I feel the jouney will not end at the white city. Be ready at dawn."

Dwain could hardly believe what was happening. Here he was, at dawn, his father ahead of him, his best friend Oin on his left, setting out for a city he had only heard of in stories. He had traveled no farther then Edoras, whereas Oin had not even traveled past the walls of the Deep. Dwain's thoughts were interrupted when Gimli turned to him and Oin.

"Here we go, to Edoras, and beyond, Minas Tirith. It will be good to see old friends, right?" Gimli said very fast. Dwain nodded. Feanar was sure to be where his father was on a thing this important. They started off down the long ramp.
"Why me?" Oin said aside to Dwain. "Why did you choose me to go with you?" Dwain studied the cliff side, trying to come up with a reason.
"Well, you are my greatest friend, and the best fighter." Dwain said, "I have no clue what we will meet."