Title: Up Against the Trees of Lothlorien

Author: Princess Lauren E.
Scavenger, laurenscavenger@yahoo.com.au

Pairings: Gimli/Aragorn, Haldir/Legolas

Rating: R

Summary: The response to a dare by a friend of mine to
slash dwarf and man. Blame it on the plotbunnies.

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings characters belong to
J.R.R. Tolkien -- no money is being made from this,
and it's a laugh, innit?


---

Up Against the Trees of Lothlórien
Princess Lauren E. Scavenger
 
Gimli was still fuming - the other Elf, the really rude one who'd nearly put 
his eye out with an arrow - had apparently been forgiven by everyone 
immediately. And then they'd all chatted in Elvish ("all" in this case 
meaning, "Legolas, Aragorn, and that rude Elf who nearly blinded me, 
auch") and gone to meet Galadriel, who in Gimli's opinion was the only 
worthwhile bit of the Quest to happen since he'd broken his favourite axe 
back in Rivendell.
So he couldn't sleep, of course, because this Haldir-Elf-bloke had come 
poncing by twenty minutes earlier, and Legolas had gone with him to 
"mourn Gandalf's passing", and the way Legolas was screaming now sure 
as hell didn't sound like any keening-with-sadness Gimli had ever heard 
before.
Aragorn was smoking. Boromir had wandered off, possibly to practice his 
hair-ruffling on Frodo, who had also gone walkabout. Gimli sadly thought 
that Frodo was actually with Galadriel, who'd come gliding past about the 
time Legolas had left, and wished he was a bit shorter and had shaved 
before he'd come to Lothlórien. Everyone fancied the sodding hobbits.
"You should sleep, Gimli."
"Bollocks," Gimli said, trying at all costs to preserve his macho image 
while ignoring the fact that he was so fatigued that, ironed out, he'd make 
uniforms for a whole army.
"Get some rest," Aragorn urged. "Recover your strength."
The arrival of a couple hundred pounds of Dwarf on his chest wasn't 
entirely unexpected, but definitely unpleasant. Aragorn rolled, and tried to 
throw the Dwarf off.
"Get off me, Gimli!" There was a nasty snapping sound, and Gimli leapt 
up and stood a short distance away, looking scared. "You've broken my 
favourite pipe!"
"Sorry?"
"That was a present from Arwen! The only thing she ever gave me, apart 
from the necklace... and the promise of giving up her immortal life for 
me... and some really great head..." Aragorn's eyes misted over with 
nostalgia. 
Gimli blubbered, mostly because he'd never manage to pull anyone like 
Arwen. Especially not when most Dwarf women were indistinguishable 
from Dwarf men (there was his distant cousin Cheery, who wore iron high 
heels, but she didn't count).
"Oh, Gimli, what's wrong?" Aragorn had to speak up to be heard over the 
mingled sounds of Gimli sobbing, Merry and Pippin being loudly 
appreciative of each other, Legolas screaming "Give it to me baby!" in 
Elvish, and Sam yelling at everyone to shut up.
"Nobody loves meee..."
"You're right. So? What do you want me to do about it?"
Dwarf men. Dwarf women. Indistinguishable, so that Gimli's one 
childhood sweetheart had actually been the butchest fellow in the mines, 
until they'd discovered one another's gender. Or rather, until they'd been 
discovered discovering one another's gender. It wouldn't have made much 
difference if they hadn't been caught.
So. Human man?
Aragorn was a lot more surprised when Gimli jumped on him this time, 
because Gimli wasn't angry. It was kind of scary, actually, especially 
when he realised exactly what Gimli was doing... and scarier still when he 
realised Gimli knew what he was doing... in more ways than one...
"Gimli... no... oh dear... oh... oh..."
***
"YES! GIVE ME YOUR THROBBING DWARFMEAT!"
Haldir looked up from brushing and plaiting Legolas's hair (how else 
would it stay so perfectly coiffured all the time?).
"I'll never understand humans," he said.
"Me either," Legolas said. "And this is supposed to be the king of them?"
"Sounds like the royal line won't have many heirs."
"Sounds like it."
"Legolas?"
"Mmmm?"
"Pass me that ribbon."
"Sure thing, sweetlips."
 
*******
 
A/N: So there you have it. Gimli/Aragorn for Poet. I apologise for the 
army fatigues joke (because it was lame), but the "throbbing dwarfmeat" 
made me laugh, and came from a discussion Hope and I had on the train 
about how, if people wrote "throbbing manmeat" (unfortunately, they do!), 
could you also have, for example, "throbbing hobbitmeat".
I don't ever want to find out.