Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“YOU’VE INVITED A WHAT?!” roared a short, stocky figure. He leapt from his seat, orange light from the nearby hearth causing his face, which was a bright shade of red, to look positively demonic.

“YOU HEARD ME CORRECTLY KORI!” a second Dwarf shot back. He managed to stay in his chair, but he leaned forward dangerously, hardened hands gripping the arm rests with no small amount of force. His long red beard shook with every word, and his dark eyes blazed. Checking his tone to a low growl, he continued. “He has my eternal friendship, and will be treated with every courtesy a Dwarf can give.”

The two irate Dwarves were none other than Gimli, now Lord of the Glittering caves, and his overseer Kori. Both were, or at least had been, seated in Gimli’s chambers discussing the progress of the work for the present day. The Glittering Caves, or Aglarond as it was now called by the Dwarven folk, had in only a few years been turned into a thriving settlement for the children of Aulё. Their hammers and chisels could be heard ringing throughout the caves night and day. Kori was the head overseer and a good friend of Gimli’s, and as such the former member of the Fellowship had thought it best to let Kori in on an invitation he had sent several weeks prior; one that would have been seen as incomprehensible to other Dwarves. Now, this decision slapped him in the face.

“The fiend is no friend of mine!” bellowed Kori. “An Elf. Of all the diverse kinds you met and travelled with on that Quest it had to be an Elf! Of Mirkwood, no less, and the whelp of that accursed Thranduil!”

“WATCH YOUR WORDS!” shouted Gimli. All regard for restraint suddenly vanished.

“Do you not know how ridiculous, how obscene, how…how…”

“There is nothing evil about befriending an Elf!”

“GIMLI, HE’S A BLASTED POINTY-EARED, FLIGHTY, BACKSTABBING, HYPOCRITICAL SPAWN OF THE DEMON RACE OF ELDAR!!!”

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Gimli flew from his seat and pointed a finger in front of Kori’s nose. “YOU know nothing of him! I will not have you speak of him in any such way AGAIN.”

“He-is-an-Elf,” Kori’s voice grew low and dangerous, each word drawn out.

“Kori…”
“And have you ever heard anything about the she-Elf that mothered him?”

Gimli was about to growl something less than complimentary but stopped short. This was a sudden and puzzling change of topic. Losing his immediate train of thought, he simply shrugged. “What of her?”

A sort of wicked sneer spread across Kori’s face, and he tilted his head back, stroking his black plaits and very obviously feigning thoughtfulness.

“Well?” Gimli pressed in a suspicious tone.

“None ever speak of the Queen of Mirkwood. None of us have ever seen her, for of course, no true Dwarf—oh—no offense my lord,”—here Gimli harrumphed loudly—“would wish to be so close to a realm of the Elves.”

“Get to the point,” Gimli grumbled.

“Well, where is she?” Kori said, slowly leaning forward. “Perhaps your dear prince’s mother was not the Lady of Mirkwood at all, and there has never even been a queen.”

“And how would that be?”

“As I have said many times before, Elves are a flighty people, their moods and loyalties changing on the slightest whim. Perhaps this Elf lady was not the king’s wife after all, and your companion is a mere…how should I say it…byproduct of a bought of reckless passion?”

“Stop right there!” Gimli bellowed, taking a step forward. There was a strange look in his eyes, and Kori wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Anger, of course, but there was more…almost a guilty shadow in his coal black orbs. “You know nothing of what you say! Legolas IS the legitimate son of Thranduil and the Prince of Mirkwood. But I find it very interesting,” Gimli’s voice slowly grew louder and louder and he began to advance, “nay, laughable, that you of all people would try to criticize anyone’s mother: KORI, SON OF A BEARDLESS SHE-DWARF!”

At that both stocky creatures engaged in a furious session of yelling, shouting, pointing, storming, and bellowing, so much so that the whole of Aglarond shook with it. Such an exchange of Dwarven curses! Before it was over, both chairs were toppled (one of them broken), a mug was thrown and shattered, a table overturned, it’s contents spilling everywhere, and two beards slightly singed from leaning to near the fire. The end result was one room turned completely upside down, reeking of malt beer and burnt hair.

Kori stormed towards the door, muttering and growling profusely under his breath.

“Kori!” Gimli called from across the room. The other Dwarf stopped, but did not turn. “I mean what I say. If you don’t behave in a civil manner, I will personally scrub the whole of Aglarond with your beard!”

“You can try,” muttered Kori. The irate overseer left the chamber and slammed the solid door behind him.

“Oh Aulё,” Gimli sighed. He looked around the room, taking in the scene of absolute wreckage before him. He moved over the ruined chair and examined it. Two legs had been snapped off, the back splintered. Slowly, he began gathering the bits of wood strewn across the floor. “Well, that was quite a reaction,” he said to nothing in particular. “I said, ‘There’s an Elf coming to visit’ and by the way he blew up like that you’d think I’d invited a mangy dog to enjoy his beer for him. They can’t comprehend it…an Elf and a Dwarf as friends. But then again, I didn’t understand myself. Perhaps when the lad actually gets here he’ll make them see he’s not all that bad. Unless they happen to mention uncomplimentary things about his father or mother…oh Valar.”

Gimli knew from firsthand experience topics that quickly got someone on Legolas’s bad side, and for many months he had thoroughly enjoyed exploiting those topics himself. “The Elf will try to be patient with them, surely,” said Gimli. “But they had better not mention anything of him being overly cleanly. What a laugh that would be. Legolas debating with a group of Dwarves on habits of cleanliness! Ha!” He tossed the remains of the chair into the large hearth. Sparks flew upward as this extra fuel was added to the flames. He dusted his hands off, then stretched a kink out of his back. “And I hope they won’t bring up anything about Elvish males resembling females. How quickly they will regret that one! But then again, talking rudely about Thranduil is unwise as well. Hmm…This may be an interesting visit.”

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Gimli traveled down a little used passageway toward a finely carved wooden door. Even with the poor light of a few small torches, the intricate designs and lettering that scrolled across it could be seen. The patterns were not something of typical Dwarven style. The chamber beyond had become something of a special project for Gimli. The door sported no handle or latch.

Coming up to the great wooden piece of craftsmanship, Gimli smiled broadly. He had taken great pains to see that this room was hidden from the eyes of the other occupants of Aglarond. The Dwarf chuckled delightedly at the thought of his secret creation.

“What’s this? No handle?” Obviously very pleased with himself, Gimli clicked his tongue in mock bewilderment. “No matter,” he said to himself. Gimli cleared his throat loudly and leaned in close to the door. In a low voice he uttered one word, and instantly, the door opened. With a “Ha ha!” he slipped inside, and the door shut fast behind him.

************
“What kind of a word was that?” muttered Kori beneath his breath. He stood at the end of the hallway, watching the whole of what had just transpired. The overseer scowled and began absently rubbing a knot that was forming on his head. He had received many a blow from Orc, Goblin, and even Dwarf over the years, but this small bump seemed to sting far worse than the rest. It had been dealt by the hand of a friend. And it had come in defense of an Elf. Growling, he turned his thoughts once more on the strange word. “Definitely not one I’ve heard before. Dolen. Too light on the tongue…” Then it dawned on him. “Elvish.”

Snorting rather loudly, Kori murmured a few choice words beneath his breath. “No doubt it’s the Elf’s room he’s been working on all this time. Of all the unheard of…” He stopped short. His hard expression suddenly turned sly, one bushy brow perched above the other, and half smile on his lips. “This word could come in handy. What was it? Dolen. I’ll have to remember that.” Kori chortled devilishly to himself as he left the lone hallway and began lumbering down the main passage back to his station.