Gimli's First Axe
Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to Lord of the Rings. Sorry that this is so short. It's something I wrote a while ago.
Perhaps the fact the Gloin locked his door that morning was warning enough. His friend Nori watched him in horror.
"What has Gimli done now?"
"Nothing," Gloin started and then, because he could only be fair to his friend he added, "yet."
Nori could feel his feet quaking in his boots. "What happened?"
"I gave him his first axe."
Nori's jaw dropped. "You know what he did with the old wooden pick! How could you have given him an axe so early?"
"It is not early," Gloin growled. "I had my own axe at his age. I'm sure he can handle the responsibility."
"I think I will go home, where it's safe," Nori said with dignity.
"Die, vile ugly troll, die!" yelled a tiny dwarf, waving his axe bravely. He knew better than to hit the rocky walls with his brand new weapon, but he could definitely pretend he was killing cave trolls. He ducked an invisible blow and fell over backwards with a squeak.
"You are coming along well, Master Gimli," chuckled Dori as he hefted the small child to his feet. "But you need a strategy. Dwarves do not simply swing their axes in the air."
Gimli clamped both hands tightly to the handle of his axe. "Show me how to do it properly! Please?" He gazed up at the older dwarf with his huge blue eyes, slightly hidden by thick eyebrows and a swiftly growing beard.
"All right, but I think this axe is too big for you. Why don't we start with something smaller?" Dori suggested, carefully pulling out one of his lighter throwing axes. "Something like this."
Gimli's eyes lit up.
Gloin was drinking some good malt beer with Nori when something terrible happened. The jug flew out of his hand and thudded against the wall.
"You were right, Master Dori!" a delighted voice shrieked gruffly. "It does work better when you hold it that way!"
Gloin, cursing grumpily, sincerely regretted giving his son such a dangerous birthday present.