“Gimli! Gimli! Let’s hear the rest of the story!” All four hobbits crowded around the dwarf who, to the astonishment of all, had become the storyteller to keep the hobbits entertained. The stories he told were, of course, about dwarves, although this one did have a hobbit in it as well.
“Oh, the story! Where was I?”
“They were leaving the skin-changer’s house,” Pippin reminded him.
“Yes, the skin-changer’s house. Master Beorn sent them off with ponies and supplies, and they soon reached the borders of Mirkwood, where the wizard over there,” here he pointed to Gandalf, “deserted them. Something about investigating an ancient evil in the fortress of Dol Guldur. But the dwarves and hobbit entered the forest, leaving their ponies behind. Soon, the confounded elven path they were following disappeared, and the company was set upon by giant spiders. If it weren’t for Bilbo Baggins, they would have been lost. But the courageous hobbit cut down the webbing the dwarves were trapped in, although he ended up separated from them. And a good thing that turned out to be, for the dwarves had barely started slaying the spiders before they found themselves being held at arrow point by the maddening elves for no reason except that they were dwarves –”
“Master Dwarf, that is not quite true.” Legolas, who had kept his peace for the entire story, finally interrupted. “If they had been humans, hobbits, or elves, we would have arrested any uninvited trespassers in the forest. None save woodland elves are allowed to enter without permission. And if the elves had not come along, the dwarves would have been overwhelmed and slain by the spiders.”
“And what would you know of these matters, Master Elf?”
“I was there, Gimli. I was among the scouting party who arrested your company. Trust me when I say that those dwarves were no match for the spiders of Mirkwood. Had we been even five minutes later, they would have all been dead.”
“So, you freely admit to attacking harmless travelers for no reason other than the fact that they were not woodland elves? Not very diplomatic, if you ask me, which no one did.”
Legolas shrugged. “It is a bit difficult to be diplomatic when one of the Dark Lord’s fortresses is within your borders and you do not know whom you can and cannot trust.”
“Anyway, the dwarves were searched and relieved of their weapons. One of the elves, the leader who had declared that it would be his pleasure to kill the dwarves, and who also happened to be the one searching my father, even had the audacity to insult me and my mother!”
Legolas turned a pale shade of red at this pronouncement, and Aragorn, who had heard Legolas’s side of the tale, tried his hardest not to laugh.
“How did he insult you?” Merry inquired.
Legolas again interrupted, his face growing redder as he said, “I called Glóin’s wife his brother and Gimli a…” the elf coughed before softly stating, “a goblin mutant.”
“You did what?!” the hobbits exclaimed at the same time as Gimli said, mouth agape, “That was you?”
“Yes, I called Gimli a goblin mutant and yes, Gimli, that was me.”
“But – but – but – but –” the dwarf sputtered, suddenly not having anything to say.
“What happened after you arrested them, Legolas?” Pippin asked, eyes wide with excitement.
“Oh, no! Gimli began the tale, and so he should finish it. Master Dwarf?”
Gimli had regained his composure by this time and cleared his throat. “Yes, well, the elves took Thorin and company back to their halls, where Thorin was interrogated by Thranduil while the others were thrown into the dungeons…”
*F*S*S*
Later, after the story was finished for the night, Legolas approached Gimli. “For what it might or might not be worth, I am deeply sorry and beg your forgiveness. Although,” Legolas’s mouth twitched, “your father’s reaction was quite, um, interesting.”
Gruffly the dwarf responded, “Apology accepted.”
Legolas nodded. “Thank you. And,” his mouth twitched again, “you aren’t quite a goblin mutant, you know.” Then he disappeared, leaving a very flustered dwarf behind.
Gimli finally huffed. “Elves. Who can ever understand ’em?”