milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Many good-byes were said this night just past. Gimli's were not among them; he's been pursuing his apprenticeship under Mount Etna these past weeks, so that his work with mithril mail might be truly impressive when the custom starts coming in.

Tonight, though, he's back. And he's after a beer, and perhaps a place by the fire.

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"Good Evening Gimli." Amanda approaches with a smile.

Gimli looks up from axing his mun's LJ account to death for failure to deliver email notifications. "Ah! Good evening, Amanda- how do you fare?"

"I fare well this evening, how about yourself?" smiling. "May I join you?"

"But of course," says the dwarf. "I"ve been at a forge on some Earth, somewhere, studying smithcraft; I come here each three or so days, stay at my forge, and then return."

"Sounds like you are enjoying yourself." she smiles, "Can I get you anything?"

"Nothing, I think;" says the dwarf- "only a little news, perhaps. What has come to pass while I was gone?"

SHe sighs and thinks, "Well nothing much I think. As far as I know everything been pretty quiet." Much of what she does know isn't her place to say and it has been pretty quiet in the Bar.

Gimli nods. "That's well enough, I suppose. How fare the horses? I've not seen them since I shod Mistress Susan's mount."

"They seem to be fine. Truth is I've only seen them once when I took a walk by the stables."

"I shall have to check them myself, then," Gimli says. "Hm. ANything else of interest..."

SHe thinks for a moment, "I don't suppose you know a man named Guppy?"

"Never heard of him, I'm afraid," Gimli says.

She nods, "Oh well." smiling.

Oats has got the "place by the fire" gig covered.

"Gimli!" he calls. "Er, hello!"

Gimli turns from his course and heads for where Oats is seated. "Master Oats, isn't it? It's been some time..."

Oats looks embarrassed.

"Er, yes. I'm afraid I've been spending a good deal of time upstairs recently."

Or, when he feels he desperately needs the exercise, walking about outside. However, that particular activity has been curtailed of late: he wishes he knew how to knit himself a fuzzy scarf to ward off the chill.

"No matter." Gimli waves a hand expansively. "I've spent most of my time of late studying at a forge elsewhere, though I return every three days. I'd assumed it was my own failing, really."

"Oh, well, that sounds ... nice," Oats says lamely. He frowns. "Studying?"

He'd gotten the impression somewhere along the line that when one was forging one's own weapons, all apprenticeship was over.

Gimli nods. "My folk were charged by Mahal in the beginnings of our race with discovering what lore and craft we could, all throughout our existence. He did not say we might cease in this after our deaths. I have taken an apprenticeship with a fellow called Hephaistos, whose knowledge of smithcraft is as far beyond mine as the light of the Sun is beyond that of the stars of night. It seemed appropriate."

Oats is impressed.

"Well ... he must be very good, then."

Sadly, the book on the Greek pantheon that he as borrowed from the library (by way of the bar), is sitting unread on his desk upstairs.

"He is indeed," Gimli says firmly. "Though that does remind me- I've an axe or two waiting for someone who'd be interested..."

He looks guilty.

"I did mean to come out and try to work those bellows ..."

Gimli snorts. "They're still there, you know," he says. "I'm not likely to go anywhere for a while."

"Do you suppose I still could, then?" he asks, trying to disguise his eagerness and probably failing. "I don't know if I ever mentioned, but it seems that an axe is rather more essential here than I'd thought."

"But of course. When did you want to give it a try, hmm? TOmorrow, perhaps?"

He smiles, that distinctly Oats smile-- there and gone again in an instant, but bright and real.

"That sounds wonderful. Is there any, um, time in particular that would be best?"

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