Of Swords and Fire (Percy Jackson/LOTR)

Chapter 13: Blinged out dwarf

It crumpled to the ground, and the black eyes of the orcs and goblins suddenly went. Some waved their swords about, wondering where the foe was, some immediately went unconscious and some fell, losing their footing on the rocky ground and then went unconscious via faceplanting into the rocks.

But no-one saw the blurred blue figure making a mad dart towards one of the tunnels and going inside. Thanks, Hermes. Percy grinned as he clutched the action figure in his hand. He didn't know at the time, but due to the extreme luck the action figure brought, he was able to exit the only safe tunnel in the intersection. All the others would have lead to (almost) instant death.

A distant shriek alerted Percy that the shadow figure had recovered from its encounter with the rock. Percy crawled faster. But once again, the action figure outdid itself again by making sure that the tunnel Percy was in was the last one the shadow sent a runner goblin down in.

Percy could hear the huffs of something behind him, in the dirt tunnel getting closer. He, of course wasn't so skilled in orc and goblin physiology, but one sound told him it wasn't a puny goblin.

Percy silently uncapped his sword. Of course, Riptide shone in the darkness, and as he turned around he came face to face with a very nasty goblin. It pushed Percy backwards, holding out a dagger and posing it for a stab. Percy rolled to the side as the dagger came down and sliced. He lopped off the arm, and the goblin cried out. Its voice reverberated all around. Stupid echoes. Percy thought as he skewered the goblin on his sword. That's sure to alert whatever's at the end of the tunnel. Sure enough, he could hear hasty scrambling at the other end of the tunnel. He quickened his pace, and speed-walked (speed-crouched?) through the gloom.

Just as Percy thought the orcs were breathing down his exposed neck, swinging whatever jagged weapon they had at their disposal to slice through it, he burst out through a wooden door – thankfully not booby trapped – and landed on top of a very surprised dwarf, cladded in a shiny amor of some sorts. "OOMF!" The dwarf struggled to get out from beneath Percy. "I am so sorry, dude." Percy muttered under his breath, but there was no time to get off the ample dwarf's body, as 3 armoured orcs came flying out of the tunnel. That's 3 skewered. Percy thought as he impaled yet another unfortunate orc. He got off the dwarf's body and made quick work out of the rest. He fancily swished his sword and sliced the last orc in half. He flicked his sword to get the blood off, and only then did he realise that he was, indeed surrounded by a ring of pointy dwarven spears.

The dwarf he squashed got up and brushed his shiny mail off. The emblem of a hammer glinted off the armour as the dwarf huffed impressively. If the dwarf was a solar panel, he would've powered Los Angeles for a year, or perhaps it could light up the Christmas tree the size of the Eiffel tower in Olympus (Yes, they have those. Athena pays for the electricity, even though it's slightly bigger than an average British person's gas and electricity bill). "Just where in Durin's name did you come from, boy?" He glared at Percy. "And what right do you have sitting on me?"

"Uh-" Percy dropped his sword as a sign of peace. "I didn't mean to sit on you."

"And how in Middle-Earth did you get to the secret passage?"

Man, this dwarf has a lot of questions. Percy thought, but he didn't say this out loud for the sake of diplomacy, and, he didn't like pointy things sticking in his sides. He squinted at the extremely blinged out dwarf. The sun reflected off every surface of his armour, making it almost impossible to see him. Percy could only make out a very large quantity of hair. He could also make out that the dwarf had a ring on each finger.

"I, uh, rescued Girme and the other dwarf, Orein. They showed me the secret passage." Percy said in a calm tone, wishing not to be skewered like the orcs he fought with. "Impossible!" Cried the dwarf. "They were gone forever! They were captured by the Ringwraiths. No one can come back from that, even if they did have a willing rescuer."

Just then, 2 dwarves came walking down the battlements, covered in a large amount of dirt. "Uh, we're alive." Said Girme.

The other dwarves simply gaped at the 2. Percy would've no doubt had time and space to fit a small football in each of their mouths. He could practically hear the crickets chirping. "Um, we're alive?" Girme repeated. Without warning, the soldiers charged at the 2 and formed a rough semicircle around the 2. "What was that for?" Orein protested as the tips of some trembling spears poked him experimentally in the side. "You're not real!" One of the dwarves voice quavered. "You wer – are gone!" Another voice trembled. The surrounding dwarves began to protest. Girme twiddled his thumbs and checked if his shoes were untied. Orein looked quite bored as one of the dwarves insulted another one about how small his brain was.

The shiny dwarf held up a hand to silence the other dwarves now tussling with each other over if Girme or Orein were impostors or not. "Settle down! Ingrod, put the battle axe away." The apparent leader of the dwarves looked at Girme and Orein suspiciously. "Keep the spears around them. If they are real, then they wouldn't mind a confirmation on it."

"Ok, ask the question." Said Girme eagerly.

"What is the recipe for your famous 3 meat stew?" Said the dwarf, trying to keep his excitement getting into the tone of his voice.

"Oh, come on!" Orein yelled at the leader, but a ring of sharp pointy spears stood in his path. "You little- come here so I can pull out your beard!" He lunged at the leader but was knocked off his feet by the blunt end of a spear.

"You're actually doing a great job of being Orein, if you're fake that is." Said the leader earnestly. "Come – here – give – pull beard – crush –" Orein wheezed as he sat up on the floor.

"What about me, Farund?" Girme cried out indignantly. "Oh, let me think." The dwarf said.

"Ok, I got one for you. Where do you keep your mead?"

Girme's smile was instantly melted from his face and replaced by a scowl. "Pick a different question, Farund!"

The leader, who was apparently named Farund shook his head, with a mischievous smile on his face partially obscured by a large quantity of beard hair. Girme and Orein glowered at Farund, who smirked serenely.

"Answer it. It's the question." Farund said eagerly, waiting to know the answer.

"Hey, what's going on?" Percy questioned. "I'd rather not stand out in the cold you know. Just share the location or recipe already."

"He asks me to share a recipe that's been handed from generation to generation! I simply will not." Orein grumbled. Percy sighed. "Can we reach a compromise? Maybe tell him your secret smoothie recipe or something." Orein glowered even more. "I won't do that either." Percy raised an eyebrow and asked in a surprised manner: "You have a smoothie recipe?"

Orein still kept his glare fixed on Farund, but answered Percy. "Of course, I have a smoothie recipe. Why wouldn't I have a smoothie recipe?"

"Alright." Said Farund, a little disappointed. "If you don't give me the answers in 3 seconds, I will have to throw you off this rather high balcony." He took out 3 of his grubby fingers. "3."

He took of a finger slowly and deliberately. "2." He took off another finger. "1."

"Fine! Fine! I'll answer your question. My mead is on the 52nd storeroom, behind the shelf with all the books in it." Girme covered his face with his hands. "Oh man, I was looking forward to that mead."

"You hid it behind a bookshelf?!" Yelled a dwarven soldier. "By Durin's beard, of course we wouldn't be able to find it!" And with that, about 95% of the soldiers rushed off to the 52nd storeroom, where they would find nothing behind a bookshelf but a small note that read: Fools. You'll never know the location of my mead. -Girme

Then they would rush back, disgruntled and angry to find that the 2 dwarves and Farund was no-where to be seen.

Orein and Farund watched the crowd of jostling dwarves getting smaller and smaller as they jogged out of sight. "You gave them a fake address, didn't you?" Farund said questioningly. Girme only answered with a sly smile. Farund sighed. "It was worth a shot. We'll find out eventually, you know." They walked off to the place where the apparent white wizard was waiting.