-General-
By the great Aulë, Aldril! Are you planning to give Bilbo armor?" Kili exclaimed, dropping the scroll in total astonishment. But his expression changed almost instantly, his eyes shining with a childish plea as he made his request with a sweet voice. "Aldril, we're good friends... Can I at least have a dragon dagger?"
Shaking his head with a small laugh, Aldril nodded. "Alright, Kili, you'll have your dagger." However, the warmth on his face slowly faded, replaced by a shadow of melancholy.
His thoughts drifted to all those who had shared the journey with him, those still by his side... and those who no longer were.
"There are many teeth. Forge sixteen daggers from them, all for our expedition," he ordered firmly, but in the end, his gaze dropped, his tone heavy with solemn respect. "The ones belonging to Bombur and Balin should be driven into their resting place."
Kili, who had been about to jump with excitement, fell silent. His vibrant smile faded, his expression growing more serious and melancholic. He pressed his lips together tightly before nodding.
"Yes," was all he could say. If he spoke any further, he feared the tears would betray him and show a side of himself he preferred to hide.
Aldril nodded in understanding before continuing. "Alright, also remember armor for Shadow Star. I reached an agreement with Thorin, and in exchange for a couple of dragon bones, the remaining mithril will be used for my companion's armor."
Kili blinked and quickly grabbed a scroll to note down all the requests. His sadness was replaced by a sense of urgency.
It was then that an impatient voice broke into the conversation.
"Dammit, you two! Can you hurry up? My inner blacksmith is already itching to work on the dragon's body!"
Glóin, with his beard moving in response to his exclamations, approached them confidently. These people had shared life-and-death moments with him, and the loyalty he had for them was worth more than all the gold and jewels of Erebor.
Aldril, with a serene gaze, concealed the shadow of his melancholy, but when he saw Glóin approaching, a memory resurfaced in his mind. A wager. His lips curved into a mischievous smile. He wouldn't gain anything by wallowing in sadness, so at least he would try to bring a little joy to the somber atmosphere that had arisen after his conversation with Kili.
"Oh?" Tilting his head, he scrutinized Glóin up and down with feigned surprise. "It's too early for you to be working on the dragon's body, Glóin. Remember you have a wager to fulfill."
Aldril's words stopped Glóin in his tracks, and he frowned, looking up at him with disbelief. For a moment, only silence responded. Then, his gaze sharpened as he met Aldril's eyes, which were glinting with mockery and amusement.
'Oh no! He remembers!' thought Glóin, feeling a cold sweat building up on his back. His usually gruff demeanor, as solid as a rock, wilted like a flower without water.
"Uh... I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled, his voice shrinking to almost a whisper as he slowly shrank, as if trying to become invisible.
Aldril didn't flinch. Instead, he let the silence linger a little longer, studying his surroundings with feigned indifference. Many of the dwarves had stopped admiring the body of Smaug and were now busy with their cleaning tasks. Others joked among themselves, though not straying too far.
Finally, Aldril turned back to Glóin, a sly smile curling his lips. He cleared his throat.
"Dwarves of Erebor!" His piercing voice echoed through the room, causing a brief chill to run through those around him. "Today, here present, Glóin, son of Gróin, will fulfill the wager made before the battle with the orcs!"
The effect was immediate. The word "wager" resonated like thunder in the room, igniting the spirits of the dwarves. Among them, wagers were sacred, and failing to fulfill one was a shame worse than losing all their gold.
Glóin felt a sudden chill run down his spine as he realized every eye in the room was now on him. Aldril patted his shoulder with feigned camaraderie, relishing the moment.
"You..." Glóin muttered, his expression so grim it could have split a rock in two.
Aldril barely contained his laughter and, with all the solemnity in the world, proclaimed: "Glóin, as the loser of our wager, will fulfill his punishment... by dancing naked before all of you and giving you a show!"
There was a second of silence, like the fuse of a barrel of gunpowder about to explode. Then, the roar of the dwarves filled the room.
"Yes! Let him fulfill the wager!"
"Come on, Glóin! Don't be shy!"
Glóin, his eyes wide open, looked around for help. But he found nothing but expectant faces and mocking smiles. Finally accepting his fate, he bowed his head, took one step and then two, standing on a high platform. His hands moved to his clothes, gradually removing them.
At some point, the dwarves took shovels, brooms, and rags, hitting the floor and buckets, striking up a joyful melody as they sang in unison.
Oh, Glóin, Glóin, noble dwarf!
Your heart is made of steel...
But the wager has failed you,
And now you dance without pants!
The brooms hit the floor like a drum,
One, two, off goes the belt!
Three, four, off goes the pants!
Dance, dance, without a care!
The dwarves twirled their rags, holding each other by the arms, spinning as their feet hit the floor in rhythmic chorus.
By Durin, what a great feat,
That Glóin gives such beauty!
The axe was wielded with great bravery,
But the clothes didn't stand up!
The dwarves cheered with joy, a great breath of fresh air after the battle lifted their gloomy hearts.
Dance, dance, there's no shame!
The wager is law, doubt is offense.
Let Gimli watch, let his wife sing,
Glóin shines like a diamond!
The last piece of clothing fell, and Glóin, with no other option, could only continue dancing to the rhythm of the dwarves' improvised chorus. His hairy body would have been a grotesque sight for humans and elves, but to the dwarves, it was a glorious spectacle. Laughter echoed with even more fanfare, the shovels and brooms marking the beat.
'This is humiliating!' was Glóin's last thought before feeling a sudden smack on his behind.
"Damn kids!" he roared, spinning around in fury to find Kili laughing shamelessly, with Fili by his side cheering even more enthusiastically.
On the other side, Aldril could barely stand, bent over with laughter, his hands on his stomach. He had never laughed so much since arriving in Middle-earth. His draconic temper evaporated in the bustle of the celebration, revealing that, despite everything he had lived through, he was still just a young man of only 22 years.
It was then that Dwalin, who had been standing with his arms crossed, an eyebrow raised, and a contained smile, gave a hard blow.
"By Aulë, Glóin! I thought dwarves were robust everywhere, but I see there are exceptions."
Silence followed his words, but soon the laughter erupted like thunder. Many dwarves collapsed in laughter, some even throwing copper coins at poor Glóin, whose face turned as red as the forges of Erebor as he cursed aloud.
"I'm going to kill you, Dwalin!"
***
Filthy orcs!! This is a moment of relaxation for Aldril and for the heavy hearts of others.
"[email protected]/Mrnevercry"