It felt exactly as she thought it would. Homecoming. The wind was lashing at her face, making her eyes watery with the cold, but even through the tears, Katla could see the shapes of the mountains afar in the horizon. Ered Luin. How she had longed to go back. How she had dreamed of that moment. She kicked her pony to make it go faster, turning slightly to encourage her small escort to do the same.
"Quick" she exhorted her companions. "We're almost there."
They nodded, setting their mounts at a trot. The cart had slowed them down and the trip from the Iron Hills had taken ages. But at last, she could see the end of it, and her heart heaved with joy at the thought of her family. Or rather, what she called family, for her real parents were long dead.
The wind continued to blow, relentlessly, drawing her brown braids in her face, but she knew they would reach the mountains before the end of the day.
Even in her warm fur coat and gloves, she shivered, not sure if it was the cold or her eagerness to finally get to destination. She had missed home so much all those years. But her depart had been inevitable. She had known it from the moment old Gerda had cast the rune stones and seen her future. There were healers of sorts in the Blue Mountains, but none of them could teach her what she needed to know. Gerda had said it was her calling, and in truth she had felt it too. Strong. Powerful. Imperious.
Healing required extensive studies with teachers that could only be found far away, in her distant kin of the Iron Hills. The road was long and perilous but Gerda had been adamant. Katla needed to go. She needed to learn. If she didn't, she would not reach her full potential, and there was no need to explain the importance of a trained healer in their small community.
She still remembered the day she had left. She counted only 30 years by dwarf reckoning. Not a child anymore, but still so young. Balin had been angry at Gerda, but the old oracle would not be denied and he had had no choice. It broke his heart to part from the child he had raised, even though she wasn't his by blood. He had taken her in when her parents had died in that terrible accident so long ago. She had been no more than seven at the time and remembered them dimly. Balin and his sister Gerda were her only family. The only people she truly loved. Balin had agreed she would leave on one condition, that he would take her there himself.
So, on a sunny day of early spring, she had set out for the Iron Hills with Balin and a small party. She had tried to harden her heart, but when little Kíli had tugged at her travel coat asking why she had to leave, all her resolve had threatened to leave her. He was only a few years younger than her and would not let go until she promised she would come back with presents. Still, his brother Fíli had to hold him to prevent him from running after her. She had turned to wave goodbye and seeing them hugging each other, blond and dark hair tangled in the wind, their hands raised in a last parting salute, had torn her heart in two. Tears had flowed from her eyes as she fought the urge of turning back.
They had all grown together, she, Balin's ward, and them, Thorin's nephews. Dwarrow children were a gift, for they were rare, so Thorin had thought it fitting to raise them all as one, as they were all roughly the same age. Blessed time, Katla remembered with a fond smile, however short it had been. No one had ever been kinder to her. Thorin's sister, Dís, knew countless stories that she was only too happy to tell in the evening, in the light of the fire. Katla's great pleasure was to listen to the tales of Erebor, forever lost, her eyes and those of the boys widening with wonder at all the treasures still buried there. She could see the longing, the nostalgia, in her elders' eyes, without understanding. Ered Luin was her home and the Lonely Mountain seemed so far away, so out of reach it felt like a myth. Unreal and fabled.
They didn't have much but as poor as they were, her childhood had been golden, filled with laughter and love. The boys and her had been inseparable. They used to play in the snow until all of them were utterly out of breath and collapsed on the ground, white spray all over them. They used to watch men from afar as they travelled back and forth the mountains and make up stories of what they would do if they met orcs. Kíli would kill them all, just as his uncle Thorin once had at the Battle of Azanulbizar. Fíli would laugh at his brother, saying he would not leave any for him to kill. Thorin would overhear and reprimand them, telling them orcs were not a joke. But they would just jump in his arms and ask him to sing his song of the misty mountains. Thorin had the most wonderful baritone she had ever heard and they would all listen, eyes closed, letting the mournful melody fill their minds, forever longing for a place they had never known and would probably never know. Blessed days indeed.
The boys' laughter was the thing she had missed the most during her stay in the Iron Hills. Their laughter and the way the fire light always seemed to dance in Fíli's eyes as he smiled at her. The way he would let her braid his hair. She still remembered how soft it was under her fingers. Her heart sang with joy at the idea of seeing them again. All grown-up now. Would she recognize them? Would they even know her after all those years?
While her mind wandered, her small company had reached Ered Luin and Katla could see the gate. Soon, they would all be reunited and all her questions would be answered. They dismounted in front of the gate and led their ponies inside. As soon as they entered, they were greeted by two young dwarrows richly dressed in furs. Katla smiled. She would have known them anywhere. Tall dark-haired Kíli, his mouth ever ready for a grin, eyes full of mischief, just the shadow of a beard on his cheeks and chin. And next to him, Fíli, numerous blond braids tied with carved metal beads, trying to look stern in spite of his laughing eyes and smirking mouth. He was smaller but had a natural air of command about him that she surprisingly found intimidating. He seemed to have come into his own as Thorin's heir, and her smile dropped. No way he would let her braid his hair now.
"My lords," she said, executing a small curtsey, awkward in her riding gear.
"What is all this?" Kíli asked.
"What do you think you're doing?" Fíli asked at the same time.
She burst out laughing. Why did she ever think she would not recognize them?
"Don't you know who I am?" she finally replied when her laughter subsided. "Have I changed that much in 50 years? Because you haven't changed a bit." She paused, enjoying their bewildered faces. "I remembered my promise and came back with presents." She pointed at the cart.
Kíli gaped at those words and instantly rushed to hug her.
"Kat!" he exclaimed. "I knew you were looking familiar!"
She resumed her laughing, embracing him back as he easily lifted her from the ground.
"Fíli, come on!" Kíli turned to his brother after putting her back down. "Don't just stand there. Greet her!"
Fíli bowed slightly then took her hand, pressing his palm against hers. "Welcome back, dear Katla."
He looked straight at her as if his eyes wanted to pierce the secrets of her soul. She felt her cheeks color in an instant. She remembered how clear his eyes were, but she had no idea where the look in them came from. His fingers lightly brushed hers as he released her hand. Then, with a large smile, he took her in his arms. She reciprocated the gesture, amazed at how warm he felt. It had been a long and cold day, after all, and she had an overwhelming sense of having finally come home.
"We thought you'd never come back!" he exclaimed, finally letting her go.
"I promised I would." She raised an eyebrow in reprove. How could they even believe she would not stay true to her word?
"You certainly took your time, though. I wonder what could have detained you there?"
Her studies had been long indeed but it was true she had not come back straight away. She looked at her feet, uneasy, for she had no good reason to give.
"They wanted me to stay" she explained, remaining evasive.
Life in the Iron Hills had been sweet, even if she was separated from her family. And there was always new things to learn. Knowledge that was beyond her reach here in Thorin's Hall.
"Oh yes, we guessed as much" Kíli put in. "You probably had a good reason to stay. Like marriage, for example."
She looked at them, crushed that they could think her so fickle.
"You know my heart only belongs here" she said, blushing harder as she looked at Fíli. "With my people. With my family."
"Well, talking about family" Kíli continued, "I know someone who's going to be mighty glad to see you. Come, let's go find him!"
And with these words, he seized her arm and dragged her along the familiar hall, all enthusiasm and happiness. She could only follow, answering the numerous questions they had for her.
"Was the training hard?" Fíli asked.
"Not as hard as being groomed to succeed Thorin, I gather." She winked at him.
"I assure you, it's not all that bad" he said, making a face.
"Yes, I'm sure" she chuckled.
Thorin could be difficult but he loved his nephews more than anything in the world.
"So now you're a full trained healer" Kíli chimed in, "everyone is going to ask you out."
"Oh really?" she asked in surprise.
In the Iron Hills, the healer's position hadn't seemed so enviable, and her mentor had certainly not been courted. But then again, she had been old and grumpy. It was true, though, that her fellow apprentices had been popular, gathering attention wherever they went. But not her. Maybe because she was a stranger. Or maybe because she mostly kept to herself. There was no way to know.
"You'll be our only healer" Kíli replied. "It's a respected position. As high as our oracle."
"Yes, very fitting" Fíli interjected, as if talking to himself.
For a moment, Katla wondered if she had heard the words alright. What did he mean? But she had no time to ask as they arrived in front of a well beloved door. Kíli knocked and entered, and there he was, the one she considered as her father, studying an old manuscript. Katla uttered a small cry as she rushed into his arms, tears of joy running down her cheeks.
"Balin!" she exclaimed, and the venerable old dwarf pressed her against his white beard, caressing her hair.
"My child" he said softly. "How grown you are!"
"We'll see you later" Fíli said, making for the door.
"But-" Kíli clearly wanted to stay, but his brother dragged him along.
"Just leave them alone, they haven't seen each other for a long time. And besides, you need to practice your archery. Uncle Thorin won't be happy if he sees you haven't improved."
"I'm still better than you" Kíli replied as they both left the room, leaving Katla and Balin to their happy reunion.