As Tharkûn's staff lights the soaring vaults of Dwarrowdelf, Gimli's heart swells with pride and joy. Yet later, alone on watch, envy gnaws at his soul; Our greatest work lost to Orcish scum! What right have they –
If It were yours... Hairs rise on the back of his neck. The Seven were rightfully your forefathers'; lost through thieving or treachery. The One could make Durin's people great again!
Gimli's hand finds the axe in his belt. He shakes his head. The treachery was Sauron's. I am pledged to this quest; I will not be less loyal than Men... or Elf.