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Day #7
Overcoming prejudices is as hard in Middle-earth as in our primary universe. Write a story or poem or create artwork where the characters try to reach across racial or gender or any other barrier.
Gift
Gimli had seen her before, watching him with curiousity in her wide, grey eyes whenever she thought he wasn't paying attention. Smiling to himself, he wielded the diamond dust cloth with just a little more vigor. The carving in his hand was almost done.
The innocent curiosity of a child - the first very young Elf that he'd ever seen - was far easier to bear than the blatant distrust of most of the adults outside of the gated estate where he had come to dwell with Legolas and his lovely mother, Laeriel. Thranduil's wife had welcomed her son's 'brother of the heart' with open arms, giving to the Dwarf her gratitude and friendship easily.
The other Elves, however – those whom he didn't know from the world he'd left behind when he'd taken ship with Legolas – were far less accepting. It was understandable; some of them had suffered the loss of fathers, sons or husbands in that ill-fated attack on the ancient underground city of Menegroth that had gained the Khazad nothing but a reputation for mindless greed. Still, it hurt. He had not attacked any of them personally, but even an entire year had not lessened their animosity.
With a shake of his head, Gimli dismissed the only real dissatisfation in his life among the Elves and drew his concentration back to the job at hand. A final, vigorous polishing commenced with the cloth that had been imbued with the dust of diamonds, smoothing and bringing a brilliant sheen to all of the smooth surfaces; and in short order, his gift was finished. "Here now," he turned toward the shy child hiding behind a tall jasmine shrub and beckoned. "Come see what I have for you."
Astonished and very shy, the little one crept into sight, hands fisted nervously in the delicate fabric of her gown. "I am sorry. Nana said that I should not bother you…"
"Nonsense." the old Dwarf shook his white mane and beard firmly. "You are no bother. I have made something for you."
Grey eyes wide and startled, she inched forward. "For me?"
Rough hands carefully placed the emerald frog into much smaller ones. "For you."
Delighted, the child studied the frog for a long moment before darting forward to drop a tiny kiss on a spot on Gimli's cheek that had no beard. Then she spun on her heels and ran towards the kitchens, crying, "Nana! Look!"
A silver-haired elleth, hanging freshly laundered linens on a line in the fragrant breeze, turned and bent to her daughter. Then another startled pair of grey eyes sought him out, and a tentative beginning of a smile replaced what had always been a serious and wary moue.
Gimli smiled back and began folding his polishing cloth. Maybe he'd learn that little one's name yet.
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