milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Ever seen a dwarf wrestling with block and tackle equipment, a single low-slung cart, and a lot of sizable blocks of stone all by himself?

Well, now you have. And what's more, the dwarf seems to be winning.

Fortunately, this is taking place out back, or the mortar he's using as the stones are manoeuvred into place would cause a bloody mess all over the bar. As it stands, it's still a mess, but it's an outside mess.

Come say hi!

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He nods.

"Certainly."

He winces as he thinks of how dirty his tunic will be before he jumps down to start the work on the foundation beside Gimli. The first stone is a little crooked, but he fixes it quickly enough and does as Gimli said. Looking at what had been done before gives him a good idea and he's a quick learner.

Garion is lucky. He's clean-shaven. The only reason any of Gimli's garb will escape this day unscathed is because the beard is in the way- even if it is heavily braided to take up as little volume as possible.

"My thanks for the assistance, by the by," says Gimli as he sets to work on a stone of his own. "I'd not been looking forward to doing this part with only my own hands, but there's no other dwarves here that I might ask."

He shrugs.

"I don't mind. I miss simple work like this sometimes. It's part of why I enjoy my job bartending. Simple and satisfying."

Gimli nods. "Hard and dirty, but honest," he says, wiping some of the stuff away from his face. "And it'll last, too, and do this place some good- it'll be a smithy when all's said and done, so you'll have had a hand in that."

He smiles.

"A smithy? That'd be lovely. Durnik--"

And he halts because it hurts, remembering that his old friend isn't here to enjoy the smithy, thinking that he might never see the honest smith again. Perhaps that shows in his eyes as he turns back to his work.

The dwarf lifts one eyebrow. In an undertone, he says, "I shouldn't have said that, I take it?"

He shrugs, not looking at Gimli.

"Just an old friend from home I'm missing very dearly right now."

He keeps working, quiet for a while before finally speaking again.

"He helped raise me. Durnik, the smith at Faldor's farm. A more honest, decent man I've never known. He showed me the value of work like this...and the values ever Sendar holds dear. If things hadn't turned out as they had...he might have taken me under his wing, as an apprentice."

"I see."

Gimli is willing to let the silence go on as they work. When Garion speaks again, though, he's also willing to listen. He nods a few times as he works on his own part of the foundation. Eventually, he murmurs, "You'd have been in good company, then, as my folk have it; my kinsman Thorin was to be King under the Mountain, but until he could reclaim his kingdom, he worked his time at the forges. I'm sorry your friend's nowhere to be found, though."

He smiles.

"I'm sure he's well enough with my Aunt Pol. They got married when I did...and other than Ce'Nedra and I, I've not seen a happier couple, I don't think."

He looks to his work.

"I'm glad I could bring him back. Aunt Pol deserves her happiness if anyone does."

It's the other eyebrow that goes up this time. "Bring him back?" Gimli queries. "From what?"

"Death. He was dead."

He turns to start working again.

"..."

Silence, and a trowel dripping with goo.

"He must've been... very dear to you indeed, if that were at all possible," says Gimli in a hushed tone.

"No, it wasn't easy. And it wasn't easy the first time either, and that was a little bit different. But...yes, he's very dear to me...and very dear to my Aunt Pol."

There's very little he wouldn't do for his Aunt Pol.

"The first time?" Gimli exclaims, trowel forgotten. "You did it more than once??"

Congratulations. You got the dwarf to use more than one question mark.

He nods, quietly.

"For a stillborn colt."

He does smile at the thought of Horse.

"Ah, that's different," Gimli says, relieved. "Though it's still a wondrous thing."

He shrugs before giving another nod.

"Yes, it was."

Then he looks mildly sheepish.

"No one told me it wasn't possible. My Aunt Pol was a little upset when I did it."

And then he all out laughs.

"And then not too much later after that, I managed to bury myself neck-deep in the ground trying to lift a rock."

He seems to ponder that as he keeps up with his work.

"My life's sort of funny."

"I'd ask how you did it, but I expect it'd mean nothing to me..." He shakes his head. "I take it you made a mess doing the job? Can't see why else she'd be angry, at a thing like that being done."

Both eyebrows go up now. "Waterlogged ground, was it?"

"She was upset because it's not possible and she thought I'd kill myself trying. And it was actually in a rather special cave."

He looks to Gimli.

"You'd appreciate it. It was a lovely place to stop, really."

"Ah, I see," Gimli says. He perks up a bit at the mention of the cave. "Really? What was it like?"

"It was where the gods had met while they were making the world."

He smiles.

"It was pretty perfect, as caves go...with lovely doors."

"They had a meeting-place within your world that was still there?" Gimli whistles. "There's nowhere left on Middle-earth from the first days of the Valar in the world- it was all broken, or sunk, or otherwise wrecked and changed... What a sight that must've been!"

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