Chapter Text
It starts, as one might consider the beginning, with Gimli.
It doesn’t, really. It starts several hundred years earlier, when a young elf prince is born sobbing, his form too small to contain the memories that fill it- memories of a life lived, of peace and war and death and friendship and everything in between.
Or perhaps it starts earlier, in another life, as Gandalf sees a war tearing apart Middle Earth and decides that, victory or defeat, the price of this battle will be too great. Perhaps it starts when the old Wizard makes a desperate gamble and casts a powerful spell, pulling on the bonds that have formed between several companions that run deeper than simple companionship and giving them another chance.
Or, one could argue, maybe it starts even earlier than that, when a young hobbit takes on a journey far bigger than him, leaving his home with a single friend at his side and the fate of all Middle Earth in his pocket. Or when a different hobbit picks up a ring in a cave. Or when a Wizard and thirteen dwarves arrive in the Shire to take that hobbit on an adventure in the first place. Or thousands of years before that, when a ring is forged, and a man refuses to destroy it.
This is to say, there are more beginnings than there are stars in the sky. But for our purposes, this story begins with Gimli, and a quest to reclaim a lost homeland.
Now, this quest should not be Gimli’s tale. He’s still a few years too young yet to go on it, and he should be home with his mother, watching his father ride off and vowing that someday he will go on a quest just as grand and important as this one (and, of course, he would be right).
But Gimli, for now alone with three others in all Middle Earth, remembers. And he might not remember this quest personally, but he listened to the stories of it for decades, and more than that, he lived with the fallout. He knows how this tale ends, how many lives will be lost, how his father and uncle and their friends will always be looking for people that won’t be there when they meet up and reminisce about the days of their journey. He’s seen for himself the kind of trials a quest like this one can bring.
So Gimli might not be able to change the outcome of this quest, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try. That he won’t find a way to do something, even if he can’t change anything, even if he knows that some things can’t change, for the sake of Middle Earth and the future.
And besides, his dearest friend is in the east anyway. And he doesn’t know if the elf will remember or not, but if he doesn’t, well, he’ll just have to wear him down, just like they did to each other the first time around.
Gimli will not be allowed on the quest by normal means, and he knows it. But he also knows that by a certain point in the journey, it will be more dangerous to send him home than to let him continue on with the Company. He just has to plan his entrance carefully.
He chooses the trolls.
This is, perhaps, not an ideal moment to enter the quest, because Gimli has no interest in being stuffed into a sack or tied to a spit or anything else that happened in the troll encounter. However, it is also his best chance to prove himself any time before the Misty Mountains, which is a bit later than he would like to step in, and is also before any of them realize exactly how dangerous the journey to Erebor will be, when the orcs first find them. If he can handle himself against trolls, then they have no reason to send him back so far along on the quest. He’ll just have to… well. They all survived it the first time. He can hide in the woods while they all get caught, no one will hold that against him. Or, well, he can think of a few who probably will- his cousins come to mind- but then they shouldn’t get caught by trolls.
Mind made up, Gimli finds the old abandoned barn from the stories and settles in to wait.
Fíli and Kíli almost stab him when he sneaks up on them in the woods, where they are very much not watching the ponies. Gimli snickers to himself as they scramble over themselves, only to realize that it is in fact only him.
“Gimli!” Fíli hisses in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Gimli responds, calm as anything, far calmer than any dwarf has ever been, because two troublesome hobbits once bet him that he couldn’t appear calmer than Legolas and Gimli couldn’t let that challenge stand, and now Gimli can put off an air of calm as well as any elf.
He really could never tell if Legolas was impressed with him for that, or if he took it as a challenge to improve his own impressive calm.
His cousins don’t seem to be getting it fast enough, so Gimli internally rolls his eyes and explains it to them. “I’m joining the quest.”
They gape at him for a moment, which Gimli tries not to take offense to. Really, he figured the two of them would support him in this if anything. They’re always up for shaking things up and causing a bit of trouble- again, two young hobbits come to mind, a parallel that came to mind at the time but has been even more obvious since Gimli befriended Fíli and Kíli in this life. And, really, they should be grateful for his company in this group of stuffy old dwarves, a fussy middle-aged hobbit, and Gandalf. They need more interesting company on this trip.
Never mind that Gimli himself is technically half a lifetime older than he seems. He’s learned to act his physical age to avoid arousing suspicion, and besides, he likes to think he’s always had a young heart, even when he looked his age.
“Your amad is going to kill you!” Fíli hisses. “Your adad’s right there and he’s going to lose his mind-”
“Finally,” Kíli cheers at the same time. “You have no idea how everyone’s been babying us, and Ori, but also us and if you’re here they’ll all baby you instead!”
Gimli does not roll his eyes, because he is attempting to keep up the calm, mature image and because he is in fact two hundred years old and above such things, but he wants to. “I’m going to address that one at a time. My amad,” he turns to Fíli, “cannot kill me until I have survived this quest, so I will deal with that if such an event comes to pass. And my adad can’t do anything because I’m already here and he’ll only be putting me in more danger by sending me off into the world on my own. Also he cannot prevent me from following you so he’d do much better keeping me where he can keep an eye on me. And you,” he turns to Kíli, “know quite well that I do not get babied nearly as much as you because I do not act like I’m thirty, so you’re just lying to yourself.”
Kíli’s offended squawk is interrupted by Gimli continuing, “Also, I don’t suppose you need the ponies that that troll is carrying off?”
Fíli and Kíli, very slowly, turn to where there is in fact a troll making off with their ponies.
Kíli spits out a curse. Fíli smacks him upside the head in silent reprimand, but is far more concerned with the trolls than his brother’s language. Which does at least show that he has his priorities straight. Although not straight enough that he was paying enough attention to the ponies in the first place.
Gimli tries not to look too smug, considering he did have the advantage of knowing there would be trolls making off with their ponies. He doesn’t know that he manages it.
It is at this point that Bilbo Baggins appears with some food. Gimli almost feels bad for the poor hobbit- the baffled expression on his face at Gimli’s sudden appearance is about to be the least of his worries. “Oh, hello,” he says politely, though the confusion in his voice is clear. “I don’t believe we’ve met…”
“Gimli, at your service,” Gimli greets politely. “I’m just joining up with the company now, but you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”
“Assuming we don’t all get eaten by trolls,” Kíli adds helpfully.
“Yes,” Gimli says, trying to hide the exasperation in his voice because no matter what he remembers he is supposed to be younger than Kíli. “That.”
“T-trolls?” Bilbo stammers, looking rather pale and faint, which isn’t exactly a good sign but at least shows that he has more sense than some of the hobbits Gimli has travelled with, although that might just be because he’s older.
Then again, he’s not sure Merry and Pippin would have any sense at any age. Sam was rather sensible but more loyal than he was sensible, an admirable trait for a dwarf but also one that was going to send him following Frodo into Mordor. And Frodo himself… well, the lad had volunteered to take the literal One Ring into the deepest part of enemy territory with literally eight people to accompany him, half of which were complete strangers. That wasn’t exactly what one would call sensible, necessary though it was. And Frodo, at the very least, was the same age at that time that Bilbo is now. So maybe it’s something particular to Bilbo, not age or any sort of family trait.
Although Bilbo is also on this quest in the first place, which is not a very sensible thing to do for someone who will gain very little out of it. In a figurative sense more than a literal sense, given that the fourteenth share of a dragon’s horde that he was promised in payment is rather a lot, but Gimli knows hobbits by now well enough to know that the payment will mean very little to Bilbo. Hobbits, unlike the other races of Middle Earth, are not known to covet riches, or even have anything to use that kind of riches for. Although, given the size of Erebor’s hordes, that treasure might be more than even the dwarves can use for several generations. All that to say, Gimli’s assessment of Bilbo Baggins’s good sense may be premature.
“It might not be a lot of trolls,” Kíli suggests optimistically. “We only saw the one. It might be alone.”
Gimli happens to know that there are three trolls, but doesn’t mention this, because he should have no reason to know it, and this is not the time to start coming off as odd, after he’s managed to avoid it for so long.
“I don’t think one troll needs to eat that many ponies,” Fíli points out, not seeming to notice how this makes Bilbo pale and his breaths come shorter. Gimli cannot help feeling a bit concerned for the hobbit. He’s not looking great, and Gimli knows it’s only a matter of time before Fíli and Kíli make an ill-advised suggestion like sending their burglar on his own to handle the situation. He thinks, if they keep going on like this, that the hobbit might faint at the very idea.
Also, Gimli is pretty sure that Bilbo is entirely unarmed, which makes the whole situation even worse.
“Only one way to find out!” Kíli declares, cheer sounding a bit forced as he starts off after the troll, Fíli following.
“Surely we should go get the others-” Bilbo protests, seemingly rooted to the spot.
It’s a reasonable suggestion, but Gimli has to shake his head. “Laddie, I don’t know if you’ve ever been around a group of dwarves trying to sneak up on something, but we make more noise than a rockslide. It would be better to start with the four of us, and go back to the others once we know what we’re dealing with.”
Bilbo seems to consider this, as well as his own dealings with dwarves so far. “Ah. I do rather see your point.”
With that, Gimli and Bilbo follow the brothers deeper into the woods, in the direction of the troll camp.
They find it before long, Fíli and Kíli quietly arguing about what to do. There are, in fact, three trolls, and a pot of something over a rather large fire that Gimli very much does not want to end up over. Yes, waiting the in the woods while all this goes down seems like a great plan. Although, he thinks, maybe if he can get Bilbo to rescue the ponies without alerting the trolls, they can avoid this whole mess altogether.
Gimli considers the odds, considers the luck the Fellowship had on their journey, and deems this unlikely, but worth attempting just because he really does not want to get caught by trolls.
As if on cue, Fíli and Kíli turn to their burglar.
Bilbo is quite reluctant to attempt a rescue all on his own, which Gimli can understand. Unfortunately, Fíli and Kíli are not easily dissuaded. Bilbo looks to Gimli for help, at one point, and Gimli sighs.
“I’d give it up, laddie,” Gimli sighs. “Those two wouldn’t listen to good sense if it punched them right in their noses. Best you can do is make sure they give you a knife to cut the ropes before they send you off.”
The sheepish way Fíli takes out a knife confirms that they had not, in fact, thought to do that, and they would have in fact let Bilbo go down there weaponless and with no actual way of freeing the ponies. In fact, Gimli’s pretty sure that’s how the burglar got caught last time- the tales on that part were always muddled, because it had only been Fíli, Kíli, and Bilbo there for this part and none of them had exactly been available at the time the tales were being told, but everyone was pretty sure it was something like that.
This whole quest might be more difficult than Gimli was anticipating, if everyone on it has the combined intelligence of Merry and Pippin. Which is, he sometimes thinks, lower than the intelligence of Merry or even Pippin alone.
There were certain pairs in the Fellowship, they’d found, who worked like that.
They’d only ever let Legolas and Boromir go off alone together once. They’d learned, after that.
“Good luck!” Kíli whispers cheerfully as Bilbo starts off towards the ponies, knife in hand. Gimli gives him a Look that is not as effective as he would like, given that he looks to be in his sixties. But really, that’s just unhelpful when their burglar is already unconvinced of this job in the first place.
Which, Gimli supposes, he has right to be. Gimli also has his doubts about sending Bilbo in there like this. But at this point it has to be done, and so it’s best to just get on with it, and not give their burglar cold feet right before walks into a troll camp. That, if anything, is how they’re going to get him caught, now that they’ve removed the obstacle of acquiring a knife from the equation.
Gimli notices a somewhat sharp-looking blade resting in the belt of one of the trolls, and has a bad feeling he knows what happened last time. Well, he’s done his best. It’s all up to the hobbit now.
Of course, this is right when Kíli whispers, “I’m getting closer.”
“Are you mad?” Fíli hisses, so Gimli doesn’t have to. Bilbo, in the distance, starts sawing at the rope.
“What if he gets in trouble?” Kíli shoots back. “We’ll have to save him. I’m not going in there, I’m just being careful!”
“Fine,” Fíli says after a moment, when it’s clear there’s no convincing Kíli otherwise. Gimli wants to scream in frustration, because this is how it’s going to go wrong. But he doesn’t, because that would also alert the trolls to their presence.
Really, they’re all lucky that the three are as dumb as they are, or they’d have realized that the presence of saddled ponies means their riders must be in the area too.
“But if you’re doing that, then I’m getting Uncle,” Fíli continues. “Just in case.”
After a moment, Kíli sighs, “Fine.” He starts creeping forward through the bushes.
Fíli gives Gimli a hard look. It’s one Gimli knows well, and in this lifetime has come to find somewhere between irritating and amusing. It’s the I’m older and I know best and therefore you’re going to do what I say look, only Fíli is not, in fact, older than Gimli now so it doesn’t really work all that well. Still, Gimli knows before his cousin speaks that whatever comes out of his mouth will be intended to protect Fíli’s ‘younger’ cousin. “Stay here,” Fíli tells him. “It’ll just distract everyone if you come back to camp now, but don’t even think of going after him.”
Given that Gimli has no intention of following Kíli and getting any closer to the trolls and their sacks than he already is, he gives Fíli a nod. After a moment to assess Gimli’s seriousness, Fíli nods in return and hurries off, presumably to get the others.
It’s not long after this, just as Bilbo is sawing through the last of the rope, that one of the trolls literally stumbles over Kíli. Again, Gimli nearly screams in frustration, only holding himself back because there is no escaping this particular encounter now, and therefore if he himself wants to avoid it he will have to rely on stealth.
“What’s this?” one of the trolls asks. Bilbo shoots Kíli a wide-eyed look of fear, while Kíli stands up and tries to look confident. With the gazes of three trolls on him, it’s not all that effective.
“It’s a dwarf!” one of the other trolls declares.
“I like dwarf,” the third troll says. “Nice and tasty, they are.” Kíli shifts on his feet nervously, though the movement is aborted enough that Gimli thinks he tries to stop himself, to hide his unease. Bilbo is still staring at the scene, for now out of sight of the trolls. Gimli really hopes he stays that way-
Bilbo clears his throat. “Excuse me,” he says, drawing the trolls’ attention to him. Gimli buries his face in his hands.
“What’s that?” the third troll asks, eyeing Bilbo suspiciously.
“I don’t know,” the second troll says, looking just as confused and wary.
“What are you?” the first troll demands, stomping over to Bilbo and peering at him closely.
And Bilbo, destroying any illusions Gimli harbored about his good sense, introduces himself to the trolls, who are somewhat distracted with what a ‘burglarhobbit’ is, and, more importantly, whether or not they can eat one.
“The point is,” Bilbo interrupts, clearly scrambling for what, exactly, the point is, “That’s my dwarf- ah- dinner, and you can’t have him!”
Kíli shoots Bilbo an incredulous look behind the trolls’ backs. Bilbo makes some kind of face that clearly says I’m doing my best here.
“Your dinner?” one of the trolls asks doubtfully. “What do you need to eat dwarf for? ’E’s bigger’n you are!”
“Don’t you know?” Kíli jumps in, stuck with Bilbo’s story now. “Burglarhobbits eat five times their weight every day! Everyone knows that,” he scoffs.
The trolls size Bilbo up dubiously. “Is that true?” one demands.
“More, if we can get it,” Bilbo blusters. “Very hungry types, us burglarhobbits.”
“And this one hasn’t eaten all day!” Kíli adds “Because he’s been chasing me! So I’d be careful if I were you. He might decide I’m not enough for a meal and turn his eye on you.”
Gimli notes down Kíli and Bilbo to add to his list of people who lose intelligence when left alone together.
…He hopes they’re both normally smarter than this. Otherwise, it’s going to be a very long trip.
One of the trolls stumbles back, away from Bilbo, but the biggest one narrows his eyes in suspicion. “You’re trying to get us to let you go,” he declares. He straightens up. “I say we eat them both!”
As if on cue, the rest of the Company bursts into the clearing, weapons at the ready and a battle cry on their lips.
Gimli knows how this battle goes, so he settles in to wait, careful to keep as quiet and hidden as possible- not that it matters much, given that the trolls are completely occupied with their camp’s sudden dwarf infestation. He does feel… a bit bad about not helping. He’s fought trolls before, he could help. But then, like Fíli said, him appearing now might just distract the others. So maybe it’s better if the reveal of Gimli’s presence waits for there to be no active danger.
Satisfied with his own justification of his decision to not get involved with the mess unfolding in front of him, Gimli quiets his conscience just as a familiar voice says “Well, this is a surprise.”
And yet, from the mischief in the wizard’s eye as Gimli turns, it’s not such a surprise at all.
“Gandalf,” Gimli greets, and he knows in an instant that the wizard remembers everything that Gimli does. If the lack of true surprise wasn’t enough, there is a warmth, a softness in his eyes. Gandalf didn’t allow that warmth to extend to many, but the Fellowship had found their way into his heart, Gimli knows. “I take it you’re behind all this?”
“You’ll have to be more specific than that, old friend,” Gandalf says with a slight smile, and any doubt that Gandalf remembers is banished if any yet remained. “But if you are referring to the fact that you and I have both seen a great many more things than should be possible, then yes, I do admit to that.” A great weight seems to settle on the wizard’s shoulders, and the air of mischief about him falters. This is, Gimli thinks, where the facade of Gandalf the Grey fails, and the wisdom and burdens of Gandalf the White seep through. Though the wizard in front of him is once more grey, he still carries the weight of it all. “I could no longer justify it to myself. Frodo, all those lost in the war against the darkness. All of it. And so I decided to give us all a second chance.”
Gimli nods, accepting this. He glances down at the clearing, just as Thorin throws down his sword as Bilbo is held by trolls in front of them, and the others follow suit. “They’re going to live,” he says, eyes trailing over Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli.
“If at all possible,” Gandalf agrees.
Gimli looks to Gandalf, and thinks to ask. He could. If the wizard brought Gimli back, and himself, he would know if the others are out there.
But Gimli knows it wouldn’t matter. He will not believe it until he sees it with his own eyes. Not truly. No matter how many, each and every one of them must stand before Gimli and recognize him before he will accept that they are back. Gandalf’s memories and involvement give him hope, but he will wait.
Instead, he asks, “Are you planning on helping down there? Or are you simply here to amuse yourself?”
Gandalf’s lips twitch, that half-smile back. “I would think it prudent to wait for the dawn. We are merely two, after all, and find ourselves outnumbered.”
Gimli rolls his eyes. “Of course. Were you waiting in the trees the whole time last time too, or did you return early just to watch?”
Gandalf merely chuckles and does not respond, which really could be taken either way. Gimli considers taking offense on behalf of his kin, decides that Gandalf wouldn’t care anyway and it would do nothing, and doesn’t. Instead, he takes a moment to appreciate the fact that he is not currently in a sack. It's a good feeling.
Fíli and Kíli, Gimli realizes, are looking for him. Their eyes dart around the treeline as if they will spot Gimli at any moment, attempting a foolhardy rescue or about to get caught by the trolls. Which, rude. Gimli was the one trying to prevent them from ending up in this situation. They were the ones that messed that up. Now they get to deal with the consequences.
The night drags on. The trolls argue and eventually end up tying half the Company to a spit and rotating them over the fire. Bilbo Baggins tries, in a rather unfortunate way, to stall for time- something which takes an embarrassingly long time for the others to catch onto. Gimli is definitely reevaluating how hard this quest is going to be, now factoring in the lack of common sense present in the Company.
And then Gandalf gives Gimli a final smirk before disappearing to get into position to do his part- letting the sunlight into the clearing. Gimli swears he’s being more dramatic about it than he needs to be, to show off- but then, that’s Gandalf for you.
The trolls turn to stone, the Company begins to free themselves from their sacks or the spit, and Gimli decides to make his appearance before Kíli, Fíli, or Bilbo speak up.
“So,” he declares, striding confidently into the clearing. “I’d say that went well.”
He doubts any of them pick up on his sarcasm, but then, he also doubts many of them pay any attention to his words at all. The Company bursts into chaos. His father immediately starts yelling at him. Thorin looks not far behind. Kíli and Fíli's jaws drop. Fíli looks at him like he's insane. Kíli looks at him like he's his hero. The rest of the Company’s expressions range from angry to uncomfortable to just plain confused, depending on whether or not they know him and how they feel about the angry yelling that Gimli’s father doesn’t seem to plan on stopping any time soon.
Gimli’s uncle just gives him a look that seems to say if you’re here, you came knowing this was going to happen, so good luck.
Gandalf, in what Gimli is unsure is a helpful move or not, tries to distract the Company with the knowledge of a troll cave nearby. Half the Company flees the scene, though a few look like they might hang back to watch the coming argument unfold until Gandalf ushers them away. This leaves Gimli alone in the clearing with his father, his uncle, and Thorin Oakenshield himself.
Gimli had known this was going to happen, and he came anyway. That does not mean he is particularly looking forward to this argument.
“Are you out of your mind?” his father demands.
“I’m here to help,” Gimli says simply.
“You’re a lad! I told you the first time, it’s far too dangerous!”
Gimli had put up a token fight about going, if not as strong as he had the first time, to avoid suspicion. Not asking at all would have tipped everyone who knew him off to the fact that he was planning just this. But really, they should have known. Gimli has always been incredibly stubborn. It’s more surprising that he didn’t try this the first time around than that he’s here now.
Gimli does not point this out. Gimli raises an eyebrow and says, “Well, given that I’m the only one here smart enough to not be caught by trolls, maybe you should consider that I can handle it.”
Gimli thinks it’s only because Thorin is here that his uncle muffles his chuckle. He’s not wrong and they know it.
“If I may,” a voice speaks up suddenly, and it’s only due to long experience with hobbits and their tendency to pop up out of nowhere entirely unintentionally that Gimli doesn’t jump- apparently, Bilbo Baggins also remained behind- “I might not know this young dwarf as well as you, but I must agree that he handled himself incredibly well. He was quite level-headed in the face of the trolls, and, no offense to your nephews Master Oakenshield, he was the only reason I had the tools I needed walking into that troll camp at all.”
“Be that as it may,” Thorin says, though he does at least seem to take that into account, “this quest depends on secrecy and you jeopardized that when you decided to follow us, leaving yourself perfectly open to acquiring a tail yourself that you would lead straight to us. Whether or not you can keep a clear head in the face of danger, that demonstrates youthful rashness we cannot afford on this quest.”
There are many things Gimli could say in response to that that he won’t, because he is, again, a grown dwarf. He could point out that if Thorin was worried about ‘youthful rashness’, he shouldn’t have brought Fíli and Kíli. He could point out that they were the ones that didn’t notice him, so if they have picked up a trail, it’s on them, not him. He could say that it wasn’t rashness but a confidence in his skills built from long experience, but that would be particularly stupid.
Instead, Gimli says, “Well, given that I’m here now, it seems like it would be more of a risk to leave me on my own than to bring me along and keep an eye on me.”
This is also a very good point. Thorin and Gimli’s father are not happy about it. His uncle just seems amused. Gimli did get his mischievous streak from Óin, though it flourished with the Fellowship.
Good points or not, it certainly looks like Gimli’s father intends to keep arguing with him. He’ll never know, though, because at this point several things happen in rapid succession.
The first is that Radagast the Brown crashes through the trees, startling all the dwarves present with his typical chaos-heralded arrival that once again makes Gimli think fondly of his friends.
The second is that Gandalf returns with the rest of the Company in tow, handing swords to Thorin and Bilbo with his typical cryptic comments before herding Radagast off for a conversation that the grey wizard already knows the contents of.
The third is that a warg crashes through the bushes and attempts to attack them.
Luckily, Gandalf’s dramatics keep anyone from accusing Gimli of attracting a tail that he knows had been coming anyway, so there’s no need to defend himself. All he needs to do is wait for Radagast to speed off before Kíli grabs his arm and hauls him along, declaring, “Come on, then!”
And this is how Gimli son of Glóin joins the quest to Erebor.