very dangerous over short distances

OKAY so it has occurred to me that I’m getting a lot of anxiety these past few days, and I’d rather not have that ruin these lovely muses, so I’m going to take a few mental health days to just relax for a while. Read a book, watch an anime, take like 20 naps, I don’t know. But I won’t be here. Thanks in advance for understanding.

The joyful tone in Gimli’s voice was enough to elicit a laugh from Aragorn. “Then you really haven’t changed,” he commented with a smirk. It was a compliment, as Aragorn welcomed his company even more, feeling some twenty years younger. “Yes, they are all well.” He smiled at the mention of his son. “Eldarion is growing into quite a strong man,” he agreed, not without a touch of pride. “He has not forgotten about you, my dear friend. It was not likely he would, with all the stories that have filled his head ever since he was a toddler. Her mother is well too, I thank you, she will be very glad to hear you have come.”

   "But enough about that, lad. I was meant to tell you that Legolas sends his regards and affections -- he is rather busy in his forests from what I have heard, though many of his people have sailed east now, but I am sure he will come along to visit you himself soon enough. Have you heard anything from the Hobbits?" The only thing Gimli really knew was that Frodo had gone East along with the famous Bilbo Baggins, which in all honesty hadn't surprised him, and that Samwise had gotten married, though that news was vague and he didn't know any details.

For many a year, young Kíli could have only hoped to ever go on an adventure as large as the upcoming quest to reclaim Erebor. And after all this time, it appeared his hopes had finally come to life; his uncle Thorin had accepted him into his companionship of thirteen (including Thorin Oakenshield) loyal and capable Dwarves to set out on a journey towards the Lonely Mountain, to best the dragon Smaug and whatever other enemies they would find on their path. When the news had gotten to him that his company had been approved of by the collective, Kíli was positively buzzing and could not contain his excitement, so of course, the first thing he did in absence of his brother, who was no doubt already making preparations for the journey to come, was visit Gimli to share the news with him.

He had not yet been informed about the specifics of their party, and thus he was not up to speed with the fact that Gimli had been deemed too young for such an adventure. Perhaps if he had known, he would have kept his excitement to himself, but he was every bit convinced that his far cousin would be going along for the journey as well.

When he arrived at their homestead, he found no celebrations of sorts, which went against his expectations; everything was quiet, in stead, but he thought nothing of it. A few frantic knocks on the door later, and he had already stepped past their threshold.

"Gimli!"

In absence of a response thus far, Kíli started singing songs of old, songs the Dwarven boys had been taught from early childhood. And one in particular had always stood out to him.

     Too young. 

     Gimli's mother had been relieved ---- she had never liked Gimli's eagerness to throw himself into battle. But for Gimli it hadn't been about the thrill of battle or even the stories that could come from such an adventure. No -- for Gimli, it was about honor, about being there at Thorin Oakenshield's side when the homeland he had never had the good graces of even laying eyes upon was opened once again. It was about earning it. But the verdict was final, and there was nothing GImli could do -- he couldn't change time, couldn't make himself age faster or trick Thorin into thinking he was older than he was. He could not go on the quest.

     Gimli looked up from where he had been putting his axe back up on its mantle piece, freshly sharpened and ready for nothing after all. He attempted to put on a brave face, offering his cousin a smile, though he had no doubt the expression looked as hollow as it felt.

        ♚ — ◥ Ten years. Ten horribly long years alone. And she was not going to sit by the window and wait for the day when Will could come back to her. That would be foolish. But court life no longer held anything for her. Not after being a pirate. And after all she was still pirate king. Might as well make the most of it. So she set out to see. Anything to pass the time she now found herself having. 

        Somewhere along the lines she found herself lost. She was born and raised a lady of court and the navigation bit of piracy still was escaping her. She blinked, clearly shocked but the surroundings she found herself in approached her. She bit her lower lip for a moment, thinking of words to say before speaking them.

      Gimli blinked, staring up at her with surprise. Lost? That had not been what he was expecting -- the woman walked as if with a sense of great purpose, her every step placed confidently. She walked like a woman who had seen quite a lot, and knew quite a lot, and wanted quite a lot of people to know about it. It was obvious that the woman was telling the truth, though, just by the sheer fact of how reluctant she seemed to admit that she had lost her way.

Whenever he had a mind to talk to one of Elrond’s people, he found them willing to humor him— when he dared to approach at least— and he would listen to them sing of things altogether quite unknown to the simple gardener. But he loved it all the same. Roaming about and enjoying the things Rivendell had to offer had been far easier after Frodo had woken up. And far more enjoyable with his master— and friend, at his side.

    It was something to do before their newly formed company, their ‘fellowship’, would set out from Rivendell to journey to Mordor. The preparing had been slow going and even now the council they had taken with Elrond weeks before weighed heavy on Sam’s heart. The entire idea of leaving this place in a matter of days was enough to shake the pleasant feeling that Rivendell brought on. The calmness, the hope and their good spirits seemed to falter now that this blanket of comfort was pulled back.

Sam kept himself busy at any rate, to distract his mind as well as his heart from their departure. If they were to go on such a dangerous journey, then he would do all he could to see it end well for Frodo. And to do that, he needed a variety of tools and provisions. In his arms he carried a large pack, peering out from behind the stuffed thing as best he could.

    Which wasn’t good enough. The hobbit barely stopped himself in time from colliding with another person. The pack did brush against the other, which was about it.

Still, Sam was alarmed.

    It wasn't that Gimli didn't agree, for at this point he was no fan of elves, and that certainly had not been swayed by the exchange with Legolas and his companions, for there had been insults just as nasty from the elvish side of that argument as the dwarven, not to mention the additional insults of the present men. The only elf Gimli hadn't immediately found something to dislike in had been Elrond, and even he was vaguely irritating in a way that Gimli could not quite place. And Gimli had no love for Rivendale, either, though Gimli could at least see the beauty in the craftsmanship of it, and in the nature as well, even if it was not the kind of nature Gimli usually enjoyed -- he preferred his great mountaintops and gemstone filled caverns to trees and rivers, even if those trees and rivers were as stark and pure as any he had ever seen. 

    But, as much as Gimli both at least partially agreed with and very much loved his father, Gimli had never been the type to enjoy such constant negativity, and it wasn't long before he slipped away from the other dwarves, eager to just take a walk and clear his mind, ignoring the looks the elves he passed gave him, ranging from bitter and pointed to simply curious. He really wasn't up for a chat, at the moment -- all he was really up for was getting lost in his own head.

     So lost was Gimli in said thoughts that he didn't notice the mound of supplies nor the hobbit underneath until they had nearly collided, and the dwarf jumped back when they brushed, startled. Recovering quickly and immediately becoming embarrassed, Gimli shook his head, raising his hands as if in surrender.

      "No harm done, lad -- I wasn't watching where I was going, either."

He paused, wracking his mind. He knew that this was one of the halflings that would be in the Fellowship alongside him, but for the life of him he could not remember which he was, except that he wasn't the Ringbearer. It was by no fault of Gimli's, really -- he hadn't seen any halfling up close before, so telling them apart would be a new experience for him, and, anyway, he had not actually spoken to any of the hobbits, so it was only fair that he would not remember who was who.