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Title: A Kingly Gift
Author: Evandar
Fandom: The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings
Rating: G
Genre: Gen
Pairing: Implied Thorin/Bilbo
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: No one in the Fellowship knows the true meaning of the mithril shirt, save for Gimli.
When Frodo staggers to his feet, carefully supported by Sam, and opens his shirt, gasping that he isn’t hurt, Gimli cannot help but let his lips part and his eyes widen in shock and awe. He labels the mithril shirt that glitters brilliantly in the gloom “a kingly gift” before he can stop himself – and tries not to wince as generations-old secrets weigh upon his shoulders and stick in his throat.
Not that anyone bar the elf pays attention to his comment, and all the pointy-eared princeling does is roll his eyes. He thinks, no doubt, that Gimli is merely a dwarf sighing over precious metal – and perhaps he is right, though he has no idea of how precious the metal is.
Or what it means.
Mithril, the rarest of metals, is only worked on by the line of Durin. Only those of direct lineage – the kings, the lesser lords, their children – may shape the metal as they please. It is part of why the cost of mithril is so high – and why it was only ever sold to those who were kings or princes in their own right.
He has known almost his entire life that Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, presented Bilbo Baggins with a mithril shirt, and he has known for almost the same amount of time what exactly that presentation meant. It is another thing to actually see it, see its lustre and its quality peeking out from under stained cotton and Aragorn’s splayed palm. It is the greatest treasure forged within Erebor, and it was intended – though Gandalf’s claim that Bilbo had not known its worth rings horribly true in more than one way – as a betrothal gift.
The line of Durin only gift mithril to those who will be joining it.
Author: Evandar
Fandom: The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings
Rating: G
Genre: Gen
Pairing: Implied Thorin/Bilbo
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: No one in the Fellowship knows the true meaning of the mithril shirt, save for Gimli.
When Frodo staggers to his feet, carefully supported by Sam, and opens his shirt, gasping that he isn’t hurt, Gimli cannot help but let his lips part and his eyes widen in shock and awe. He labels the mithril shirt that glitters brilliantly in the gloom “a kingly gift” before he can stop himself – and tries not to wince as generations-old secrets weigh upon his shoulders and stick in his throat.
Not that anyone bar the elf pays attention to his comment, and all the pointy-eared princeling does is roll his eyes. He thinks, no doubt, that Gimli is merely a dwarf sighing over precious metal – and perhaps he is right, though he has no idea of how precious the metal is.
Or what it means.
Mithril, the rarest of metals, is only worked on by the line of Durin. Only those of direct lineage – the kings, the lesser lords, their children – may shape the metal as they please. It is part of why the cost of mithril is so high – and why it was only ever sold to those who were kings or princes in their own right.
He has known almost his entire life that Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, presented Bilbo Baggins with a mithril shirt, and he has known for almost the same amount of time what exactly that presentation meant. It is another thing to actually see it, see its lustre and its quality peeking out from under stained cotton and Aragorn’s splayed palm. It is the greatest treasure forged within Erebor, and it was intended – though Gandalf’s claim that Bilbo had not known its worth rings horribly true in more than one way – as a betrothal gift.
The line of Durin only gift mithril to those who will be joining it.
