Post by nott on Jun 29, 2007 18:43:59 GMT -5
Long time had passed since the mighty Dwarfs of Moria had been defeated. Defeated by their own greed. They dug to far in the mountains in their search for more, more and more. Their desires weren't pleased by the treasures first found, they needed more, more value, more to craft, shape and form, more to admire. Never learned did they? Never considered the words written on parchment, never cared to read what wise people knew and warned others about. It could all been avoided. Avoided the destructing of the Dwarfs of Moria, avoided the death of Durin, son of Thorin, blood of Durin the Deathless. But done is done, the past cannot be un-done and what happened happened. The bloody shattered on the mountains cannot be wiped away, their voices will always scream, scream in despair of what happened to them, scream for what they done, what evil they awoke. Regret. It wont help. The Dwarfs will be remembered for this. By the immortal Elves soon sailing elsewhere, this will stick to their memory. By the Men whom are greedy too, not for values in the earth, not for the smell of smelting metals but for power. And at last it will wake four small hobbits in nightmares, they shall carry what they experience in their hearts forever. Oh now they wish the blood gone, wished their beloved back, wish for another great era of the Dwarfs smiting. Yes. That is what the Dwarfs should be remembered for, their art worked with hands, not foul mistakes made in greed.
The Gap of Rohan, the opening between two great mountains older than any Elve on Earth. Impressing with their white tops, those who have witnessed it all. The Misty Mountains and The White mountains. Hithaeglir and Ered Nimrais. But trough the Gap rivers Isen and Adorn also float. Isen, the longest river in Middle Earth.
But in the Gap wars have been fought, wars with great lost of the horse people Rohan, caus thee protected the Gap from Isengards orcs, back when Saruman became corrupted. Luckily ever since the One Ring was destroyed peace have been restored and the two mountains sigh calmer breeze now, knowing they wont witness same bloodbath again. Maybe in another thousand years where the Elves already have left, left the world without their fair beauty, and the Dwarfs have dug themselves deeper into the mountains, far away from daylight and people. The men will have survived then, they are flexible and will be the ones fighting each other, staining Middle Earth with their own races blood. That'll be how everything good will leave, be taken away to the East with the Dwarfs, disappearing into the mountains with the Dwarfs and by more peaceful nature with the Hobbits. By then the Orcs may have disappeared or at least hide, watching the human race with their disgusting loathing smiles wishing they had know humans could destroy each other so easy, many hundreds years ago.
Gimli had longed to see Middle Earth yet again, felt it drag in his heart, leading his feet away from his Glittering Caves and following the known paths he and the Fellowship had walked. The Fellowship, oh how he missed their alliance, missed everything they ever experienced and every new thing discovered. From the mines of Moria, the woods of Loríen, the flats of Rohan, the White City of Gondor and the ending of evil in Mordor. They had seen everything, noticed their eyes grow wider in amazement of nature and buildings, held their breath when the peace was so calm that every breath you inhaled seemed like pollution of something so unique, and at last the bleeding heart when something you loved broke or disappeared like summer rain. He had expected Moria to last to the end, his cousins kingdom, the Dwarfs pride, but when he saw what had happened of evil and death in those mines... His heart had bled, robbed him something inside, something that could never be replaced, not even by his own Glittering Caves. The things he had promised himself.. Promises of never making the same mistakes as so many in his race. He would do them proud, yet again make the world gasp of the Dwarfs master of arts, the forms they had shaped with their own hands.
Walking slowly between the two enormous mountains framing from each side, Gimli had to stop stare. Several sighs escaped trough his lips where the pipe was place, and sadness overwhelmed him. He would never have adventures like the ones already completed. When it all took place Gimli just wanted it to end, make all the evil stop, but now... Now he longed for another dangerous quest, another chance to see the world. He would be ready, actually he was ready every day just waiting for a messenger to come and announce his help was needed once again. He would start of with a grumble, wouldn't seem to eagerly but his pack would already be packed and his feet running to wards his dear friends. Legolas Prince of Mirkwood and Aragaon King of Gondor. What a trio they was. A human, an elve and a dwarf, but they had bond, bond a friendship so deep time could not destroy it, evil not even question it and death not fading it. It would last forever, the Three Hunters would last forever.
Stuffing his pipe once again Gimli inhaled the smoke and blew a thick cloud. Where would he head of now? It had been a while since he visited Aragon and the White City but he was also drawn by the woods of Mirkwood and Loríen though most Elves already had left Middle Earth. The queen of the Woods had left along with Frodo and Gandalf. The world would never be the same to Gimli because of her departure. The loss of her had affected Middle Earth so much, it was as if the woods seemed more empty, the wind more cold and everything less beautiful. But he would keep her memory safe, keep her beauty locked in his mind as precious pictures and guard the crystal vial around his neck with his life. In the vial three strands of golden-silver hair laid still shining as bright as when he first received them. She had granted him much.
Deciding to eat something Gimli felt he had ignored the painful groans in his stomach. Sitting down in the high grass nearby Gimli opened his leather bag and withdrew a small lump of bread and a bit of cheese. Eating it slowly he took small smoking breaks to enjoy the taste. This small but decent meal could never compare to beer and meat cooked in his caves but it gave him the energy he needed for the rest of the trip. Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens. I said it then I will say it now
The Gap of Rohan, the opening between two great mountains older than any Elve on Earth. Impressing with their white tops, those who have witnessed it all. The Misty Mountains and The White mountains. Hithaeglir and Ered Nimrais. But trough the Gap rivers Isen and Adorn also float. Isen, the longest river in Middle Earth.
But in the Gap wars have been fought, wars with great lost of the horse people Rohan, caus thee protected the Gap from Isengards orcs, back when Saruman became corrupted. Luckily ever since the One Ring was destroyed peace have been restored and the two mountains sigh calmer breeze now, knowing they wont witness same bloodbath again. Maybe in another thousand years where the Elves already have left, left the world without their fair beauty, and the Dwarfs have dug themselves deeper into the mountains, far away from daylight and people. The men will have survived then, they are flexible and will be the ones fighting each other, staining Middle Earth with their own races blood. That'll be how everything good will leave, be taken away to the East with the Dwarfs, disappearing into the mountains with the Dwarfs and by more peaceful nature with the Hobbits. By then the Orcs may have disappeared or at least hide, watching the human race with their disgusting loathing smiles wishing they had know humans could destroy each other so easy, many hundreds years ago.
Gimli had longed to see Middle Earth yet again, felt it drag in his heart, leading his feet away from his Glittering Caves and following the known paths he and the Fellowship had walked. The Fellowship, oh how he missed their alliance, missed everything they ever experienced and every new thing discovered. From the mines of Moria, the woods of Loríen, the flats of Rohan, the White City of Gondor and the ending of evil in Mordor. They had seen everything, noticed their eyes grow wider in amazement of nature and buildings, held their breath when the peace was so calm that every breath you inhaled seemed like pollution of something so unique, and at last the bleeding heart when something you loved broke or disappeared like summer rain. He had expected Moria to last to the end, his cousins kingdom, the Dwarfs pride, but when he saw what had happened of evil and death in those mines... His heart had bled, robbed him something inside, something that could never be replaced, not even by his own Glittering Caves. The things he had promised himself.. Promises of never making the same mistakes as so many in his race. He would do them proud, yet again make the world gasp of the Dwarfs master of arts, the forms they had shaped with their own hands.
Walking slowly between the two enormous mountains framing from each side, Gimli had to stop stare. Several sighs escaped trough his lips where the pipe was place, and sadness overwhelmed him. He would never have adventures like the ones already completed. When it all took place Gimli just wanted it to end, make all the evil stop, but now... Now he longed for another dangerous quest, another chance to see the world. He would be ready, actually he was ready every day just waiting for a messenger to come and announce his help was needed once again. He would start of with a grumble, wouldn't seem to eagerly but his pack would already be packed and his feet running to wards his dear friends. Legolas Prince of Mirkwood and Aragaon King of Gondor. What a trio they was. A human, an elve and a dwarf, but they had bond, bond a friendship so deep time could not destroy it, evil not even question it and death not fading it. It would last forever, the Three Hunters would last forever.
Stuffing his pipe once again Gimli inhaled the smoke and blew a thick cloud. Where would he head of now? It had been a while since he visited Aragon and the White City but he was also drawn by the woods of Mirkwood and Loríen though most Elves already had left Middle Earth. The queen of the Woods had left along with Frodo and Gandalf. The world would never be the same to Gimli because of her departure. The loss of her had affected Middle Earth so much, it was as if the woods seemed more empty, the wind more cold and everything less beautiful. But he would keep her memory safe, keep her beauty locked in his mind as precious pictures and guard the crystal vial around his neck with his life. In the vial three strands of golden-silver hair laid still shining as bright as when he first received them. She had granted him much.
Deciding to eat something Gimli felt he had ignored the painful groans in his stomach. Sitting down in the high grass nearby Gimli opened his leather bag and withdrew a small lump of bread and a bit of cheese. Eating it slowly he took small smoking breaks to enjoy the taste. This small but decent meal could never compare to beer and meat cooked in his caves but it gave him the energy he needed for the rest of the trip. Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens. I said it then I will say it now
Hope to find a new one soon.)