There… might be a tankard, a lovely brass-bound affair, with a carven tusk that serves for a handle, sitting on a forgotten shelf somewhere under Thorin’s workbench. He made it some time ago, and it has been entirely driven from his mind. It’s a comfortable sort of thing, easy and reassuring to grasp. It’s not a tool of war, or even a symbol of leadership. It’s a tankard, after all, meant to be used for merriment and peace amongst friends.
There might alsobe an axe, rather bare of decoration, but so perfectly sharp it could split a fiery hair clean in two, sitting neglected in his weapons-rack. It’s a weighty axe, the balance tipped towards the blade. Only a hearty and strong warrior who had worked with his axe for days on end – even years – could use it. As mentioned, it’s rather bare of all ornamentation… but there’s a small star etched into the base of the handle with unusual care.
Tucked in a drawer underneath a stack of half-finished designs, you might also find a long-toothed comb, wrapped in soft felt. Unlike everything else in the workroom, it’s not plain and serviceable. The comb is obviously meant to be worn, with a high embellished fan at the end that would perfectly adorn a mass of dark hair. It is twisted of the finest, most ornate silver filigree you can imagine: tiny jewels wink inside the elaborate coils, and the teeth are made of steel that has been polished nearly to the sheen of mithril. It is easily the most delicate thing in the place.
(You see, namad? I can be decorative, when I so choose.)
This raises so many questions about the state and advancement of neurology as a science in Middle-Earth.
Although, to be fair, if anyone was going to discover the nervous system in Middle Earth, it would be dwarves fucking around with axes they’ve embedded in their enemy’s skulls.
At that moment Elrond came out with Gandalf, and he called the Company to him. ‘This is my last word,’ he said in a low voice. ‘The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid; neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the Company and the Council, and only then in gravest need. The others go with him as free companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry, or come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows. The further you go, the less easy it will be to withdraw; yet no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road.’
‘Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens,’ said Gimli.
‘Maybe,’ said Elrond, ‘but let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.’
‘Yet sworn words may strengthen the quaking heart,’ said Gimli.
‘Or break it,’ said Elrond.
The Fellowship of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien, Book II, Chapter Three: The Ring Goes South.
Gandalf: Thorin once gave Bilbo a shirt of mithril rings
Gimli: oh that was a kin-
Gimli: *that was a KINKY GIFT A VERY KINKY GIFT I MEAN I HEARD FROM ADAD WHAT EXACTLY WAS THORIN AND MASTER BAGGINS’ RELATIONSHIP BUT TO GIVE A SHIRT, AN UNDERSHIRT AT THAT EVEN IF IT’S MITHRIL, BEFORE MARRIAGE I DON’T KNOW WHAT HE WAS THINKING*
Gimli: -gly gift!
Fili and kili raiding the pantry feat. baby Gimli harvesting the goods and the royal cookie monster guarding the exit.
I haven’t drawn dwarves for aaaggeess but I was determined to have at least something lotr/hobbit related to sell at Tracon so I whipped this out super quickly! (as if I ever spend time on anything *snort*)
Aw Yiss 