I do not own the Hobbit or the Lord of the Rings.


As mentioned before in the blurb, if you have not seen the Desolation of Smaug AND the Lord of the Rings, this will make no sense as it refers to things from both of them. In any case, this was just a little something I thought up from a line that Legolas said in DOS. It is not the best quality, but then it wasn't meant to be, just something to get an idea out of my head - like a hundred word drabble, only longer.

Enjoy.


"We gave those spiders a good beating," Gloin said, miming the action of braining one of the massive foes he was describing to his son, "And everything was under control until those elves came along."

"Then what happened?" Gimli asked, his eyes blinking up from a mess of red hair not unlike his father's, "Did you give the elves a beating as well?"

Gloin threw back his head and laughed merrily, leaning against the back of his chair as he did so.

"Oh no, my lad," he said heartily ruffling his child's hair as he did so, "You know how it goes. It was them who gave us a beating, or nearly so in any case. They took us captive, each and every one of us save our burglar who was nowhere to be found."

Gimli sat enthralled in the story, the lights of the candles flickering inside the richly decorated chamber of Erebor which had been gifted to Gloin along with his share of the gold.

"There was one elf who was haughty and arrogant more than most," Gloin continued, "He questioned me something terrible, insulting me in the way only an elf knew how."

"What did he say?" Gimli crowed breathlessly as his father swung him around upside down. The youth knew the story; had been told it many times before yet each time Gloin parted with the events of his journey it was as if the dwarfling were hearing it for the first time.

"Who's this? Your brother?" Gloin yelled in good humour as he held his son's ankles in one hand, struggling to tickle the stomach of the struggling youth with his other.

"That's my wife," Gimli shouted back, laughing as he done so.

"And who's this? Goblin mutant?" Gloin roared.

"That's my wee lad, Gimli!" Gimli all but bellowed before both of them broke down even further in laughter. The two redheads soon sobered up again and, at no little prompting from his son, Gloin continued his story.

"The elf then locked us in the dungeons and it was not until later we learned he was the son of Thranduil, king of the woodland elves. Our burglar was the one to get us out, having slipped away at the last moment…"


"What happened to the elf who was the king's son?" Gimli asked as his father tucked him under the covers of his bed, the story finished earlier that evening. Gloin rubbed his beard.

"He still lives," the dwarf answered, "Even killed the Defiler's son in the battle for Erebor."

"Did you ever manage to pay the elf back for the comment he made?" Gimli questioned, not wanting to go to sleep just yet much to Gloin's displeasure.

"No, I did not," he growled, "Now go to sleep, lad, or your mother will have both our heads."

Gimli obeyed his father, closing his eyes, and soon enough the child fell asleep. Gloin sighed and brushed his lips to the lad's forehead. The elf's comment had made him burn with anger, anger that had still not abated with time. Dwarves did not take insults to their families lightly. Still, there was nothing he could do for Gloin was hardly going to go to Mirkwood to sort out his differences. One journey through that forest was enough.


Gimli stared up at the elf in front of him, not happy that he was to endure the arrogant being for the entire journey to destroy the ring. Legolas was the elf's name he had been told, not that the red bearded dwarf cared.

"How's your father these days?" Gandalf asked of the blonde elf. Gimli rolled his eyes at the small talk.

"Thranduil is well. Disagreeable at times, but well," Legolas replied and it was at these words that Gimli froze.

"Thranduil?" he repeated slowly.

"You could say that Legolas here is a prince, master Gimli," Gandalf called from the front. Gimli eyed the 'prince' darkly.

"Do you have a problem?" the elf asked as the company continued to move on, the blonde drawing up to the notably shorter being. Gimli bit back a growl and opened his mouth to answer.

"Goblin mutant, huh?"

Legolas stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.

"As witless as ever I see, master dwarf," he said before walking off.

"The bloody elf doesn't remember," Gimli said in disbelief as he watched the shrinking back of the blonde, "But what can you expect from one of his kind?"

"Don't worry, Gimli," Aragon said from behind him, "He just takes some getting used to. You'll learn to like him eventually."

"That'll be the day," the red bearded dwarf snorted as he hefted the axe on his shoulder and glared in the direction of the blonde elf.


Please review.