Tom Hardy is both a hard man, and a massive softy. And he doesn’t do either half by half. On the left side of his chest, as he lifts up his shirt to show me (steady, lads), he has a tattoo of a Buddha holding an AK47 assault rifle. He says he’s thinking about becoming a vegetarian, then suggests going for a burger (“I did say thinking about it,” he points out). He admits that he enjoys a good scrap, but also says that he went fishing recently and couldn’t bring himself to kill what he had caught; the whole “taking another life” thing is also the reason he’d never want to join the Armed Forces.
In ancient days they had had wars with some of the dwarves, whom they accused of stealing their treasure. It is only fair to say that the dwarves gave a different account, and said that they only took what was their due, for the elf-king had bargained with them to shape his raw gold and silver, and had afterwards refused to give them their pay. If the elf-king had a weakness it was for treasure, especially for silver and white gems; and though his hoard was rich, he was ever eager for more, since he had not yet as great a treasure as other elf-lords of old. Ⓒ