Disclaimer: Not mines. Make no money I. No sue, please.
Warnings: A/L Slash. No flame.
Author’s Note: Gimli is, by far, turning out to be my favorite character. Experimenting with accents and other slang terms, not really sure if they’re all accurate but they sure are fun. I give you Gimli’s POV.
Part 7 - Dwarves
Bunch of bloody idiots, that’s what they are. Nuthin’ but a bunch of bloody blind fluttering fools, who shoulda ne’er been allowed anywhere near a weapon ‘til they were able to control their goddamned weasels and whatnot.
The Man’s too busy flittering around like some God awful smoke-stench ta see with them bloody “far-seeing” eyes that them bunch of Dunedain are so damn bloody proud of ta see that the damn elf wants him just as bad, he’s just too stupid ta realize it. Hah! Stupid elf. All elves are they were the dimmest of idiots. Always said ne’er trust ‘em, they’re too bloody thick and flittery. If he wasn’t so bloody elfish he’d know what he was wantin’, the dolt.
Don’t think the youngsters ever been in love before, wouldn’t surprise me a bit for all their jabber about wisdom and lore and immortality and all that fiddle-faddle. They’re ridiculous ta see though, somethin’ mighty humorous. Makes ye wake in the morn and say, “Damn. Ano’er day wit them fools, and damned iffen they’re in charge too.” Hells though, they’re always good fer a laugh, them stupid elves.
With the Ranger stomping around like his feet are nailed to the ground because he’s so bloody worried that he might trip and “fall” on the blondie and make like dogs in heat faster than a rockslide of slate.
And all elves really are so bloody indecisive no madder whot’s goin’ on, I really feel quite sorry fer th’ other guy. E’en trolls think faster than them idiots ta make a stand, and that’s saying somethin’ mighty grand, that.
Nay, the damned elf won’t do nary a thing. Nay, ‘e’ll walk around like nothin’s the madder singing ‘is little songs then sulk and sigh when ‘e’s alone like some godawful human gel, and moan those god awful damned poetry that only Elves could think of, much less have the gall to sing them.
Elves are alright, in their own way, sometimes, and only a coupla of ‘em, but their bloody songs and poems and god awful ballads could melt the teeth offa deep troll, the kind made outta granite ‘stead o’ the slate ones ye be gettin’ now. The Lady Galadriel is different now though, she knows us dwarves, and her singin’ ain’t half bad. Respectable lady, very much so.
Us dwarves now, us dwarves don’t bother don’t bother with all that nonsense and flitterin’. When we find someone we wants, we marry them or we don’t marry atall. E’er. Stick to our words and hearts and axes we do, better then anybody else, if I do say so.
I swear, I’ve gotta good mind ta tie those two bloody idiots together in the woods and leave ‘em there ‘till they make up their bloody minds or tear each other to pieces.
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