Little mention of Khîm was made in the histories of the proud ones, as the Noegyth Nibin called the Elves. His life, or more accurately his death, intersected but briefly with the deeds of Túrin Turambar, a man given much honor in Elven memory. Yet Khîm was an enduring figure in the stories of the Petty-dwarves. Visions afflicted him from youth onward, revealing secrets of lore and wisdom usually reserved for immortals. Why the stars wheeled in the skies, the Sun rose in the east, the earth grew warm at its depths, and the seas rose and fell: all this and more was shown to the Petty-dwarf. The habits of the Kelvar, those who creep and crawl and fly and swim, the nature of the Olvar, those that bear roots and leaves, and the spirit behind the passions of Men and Elves and Dwarves: these too were made known to Khîm. And, in one awful and glorious tumult, a fragment of the divine music, the Ainulindalë, burst upon Khîm awareness. Few truths could then be unknown to him.
The usual bitterness found in the Noegyth Nibin was not present in Khîm's character, but his serenity and calm manner set him apart from both Mîm and Ibûn. Neither father nor brother looked to him as a comrade, but their love for him grew strong nonetheless. The wisdom behind his eyes, the strength in his gentleness, and the loyalty within his heart drew liking from most who spoke with him. When Androg's arrow pierced Khîm's breast and killed him, Ibûn and Mîm mourned not only a brother and a son but a revered guide in the spirit world.