"What troubles you, dear Gimli?"
Sitting opposite Galadriel, Gimli stirred uncomfortably in his chair, avoiding the contact of eyes as he mumbled low words in his own language.
"I cannot ease your burden if you will not tell me what is your woe, young Gimli," tried Galadriel, an encouraging smile stretching the side of her mouth.
Gimli grunted.
"I need no help from an elf, wise though you claim to be," he retorted.
"Then why are you here before me?" inquired Galadriel astutely.
Gimli grunted once more and retreated into his mind to debate his choice of location. It was a mere few minutes before he came to a decision.
"I am here for advice though I would appreciate this matter to stay within the confines of our ears only," he replied grudgingly.
Galadriel nodded. "Please, tell me what is the problem," she prompted.
"I seem to have developed...undwarf-like thoughts," Gimli replied ambiguously, his restlessness increasing as he strove to find comfort in his seat.
"Are these feelings for another in the fellowship?" inquired Galadriel.
"They seem to be so, yes," replied Gimli, resigning to the fact the words wished to leave his mouth. "I seem to be seeking...stability." He shuddered at the very words.
"Stability with whom?"
"Stability with...Sam," replied Gimli, the words barely registering through the muffle of his beard.
Galadriel rose a delicate eyebrow.
"Sam?"
"Sam," repeated Gimli, daring her to challenge him on his feelings. He strove on, stubbornness bringing him courage. "He is of similar height to me, he seems pleasant and stable. ARGH!! This is so tainted a thought for a dwarf! We seek danger and heroism, not ten cooked meals and a warm hobbit to tell our woes to at the end of a long day!"
Gimli jumped from his chair and began pacing the ground in frustration. "I do not know why these feelings taunt me! I find myself noting his dedication, his quiet homeliness, his domesticity. I dream of nights spent with him, beside a warm hearth, speaking words of romance through the early evening, and then retiring to bed at a reasonable hour as would befit such a scene."
He shook his head in disgust at his own longing.
"I would be mocked by my kind where they to know," he continued. "This is a very...unusual want for one such as I."
Galadriel smiled kindly.
"A fetish, you speak of?"
"Yes, a fetish, it would be deemed," admitted Gimli as he sighed and took his seat once more. "A very perverted thought indeed."
"And you have not tested Sam for a complimentary response to your want?" Galadriel probed.
Gimli stared at her in shock.
"To admit such a thing would leave me bare for ridicule!" he cried in horror. "And I think it unlikely that Sam would accept my desire for commitment when his heart seems to be with another of his kind," he finished sadly.
"Frodo, you refer to?" nodded Galadriel, a statement more than a question.
Gimli looked up, surprised.
"Yes, Frodo." He sighed. "Their love is obvious to all then."
Galadriel relaxed back in her chair in deep thought. It was a small while before she spoke again.
"Have you considered others in the Fellowship to replace those not available to you?" she asked slowly.
Gimli wore an expression of confusion.
"There is no other of interest to me, nor another that could fill the void that the Hobbit would leave. He is one of a kind and the others are not of his ilk."
Galadriel breathed in deeply.
"Would you consider Legolas?" she said, her expression motionless.
Gimli jumped from his chair, his face stretched in amazement and horror.
"An elf?" he cried. "An elf and a dwarf? Why that is far worse than a Hobbit for a dwarf!"
"You might see compatibility were you to look past your prejudices," rebutted Galadriel kindly yet sternly. "Legolas has much to offer you."
"Such as what?" snorted Gimli, his posture filled with arrogance and pride.
"Such as maturity of years, bringing with it a want for a quieter life," she replied.
"I have seen no evidence of this," snapped Gimli, though his posture calmed noticeably in contradiction.
"He hides it well," continued Galadriel. "He is a prince and a handsome one also so his stature would be worthy of your hand."
Gimli tilted his head in recognition of his honour.
"He also has interests of a kind you might well assist him with," finished Galadriel, sealing the bait.
"And what would those interests be?" inquired Gimli, with false lightness.
"Feet," Galadriel replied as she relaxed back against her chair once more.
Gimli stared deep at her for moments as he absorbed her words.
"Feet?"
"Feet," she nodded. "It will be the point to win him by. Though, you might not have the size he lusts after."
Galadriel smiled inwardly as she saw the bait taken by the ego within the dwarf before her.
"I have size to equal any elf!" proclaimed Gimli, holding his head high. "Are you claiming me lacking in some area?"
"Legolas lusts after the size and texture only a Hobbit can give him," spoke Galadriel calmly. "Could you challenge this and draw his interest with those you have?"
Gimli rose indignantly.
"I could and I will!" he yelled. "I will not be beaten in any realm of my life!"
He strode with purpose from the meeting place, determined in his quest for a companion with which to live a domestic life.
Galadriel laughed lightly as she watched him leave. Her tally was nearly equal to that of Celeborn's in their continual game of matching love. It was within her sights to bring together the many unions of the Fellowship of men.
The End.