Disclaimer: I own nothing other than my original characters. This is set in movie-verse, but there are some references from Tolkien's book.

Prologue

As far as the eye could see, there stretched a sea of green; pale hues of saplings and young life, contrasted with deep, resonant colours belonging to well-established trees which seemed to twist upwards, searching for the sun. The ground was carpeted with moss and dirt, and the roughly-hewn road was marked out occasionally with smooth stones to keep a traveller true to their path. Sunlight fell through the leaves like raindrops, dappling the road suddenly with pale light, before being blown away on the soft breeze.

Rhythmic sound filled the air, as hoof beats drummed on the trodden earth; they were as steady and calming as a heartbeat until a sudden stop, when all seemed silent. Then, they began again with a soft nudge of knees to flank, and the journey continued on for a short distance, before abruptly halting again.

"It would be best to show yourself, as I know you have been following me for some time now," the rider called gently into the trees, searching with grey eyes for the shadow that had been plaguing her steps.

Gandalf, chuckling to himself, moved from the gloom of the low-hanging foliage and into the path, leading his horse behind him. His hat sat crooked upon his grey-white hair, and his beard fell down to the middle of his chest. His right hand raised in greeting as his other swept his hat from its perch and back again, as he still smiled.

"Ah, Miluiel. How far did we come before my presence was known?" he asked, watching as the slight woman dismounted her pony and approached him. He threw open his arms and his grin widened as she embraced him tightly, her head tucked into his abdomen and her arms wound about his middle as they had done when she was a child. Their horses turned to graze at the road-side as they held each other tightly, and she grinned up at him with straight teeth.

"I knew from the moment the breeze sprang up – I could recognise that magnificent sulphur smell of your fireworks anywhere," she disentangled herself, and he patted her arm as he chuckled.

"And your mother? How is she?" Gandalf straightened and smiled again as her face glowed, and she began to recount the recent months of her life with her mother, whilst mounting her pony. He swung himself up into his own saddle, and his mind drifted back to the small child she had been when he had first encountered her and her mother, the dwarfish woman Udwaline. Theirs was a tale of love and loss, and he felt uncomfortable recalling it.

Udwaline was a strong, young dwarf woman with many suitors who tried to catch her eye. This was almost always the case amongst dwarves, as there were so few women to men, but it was especially so in the case of Udwaline. Her russet hair curled down her back, and her dark green eyes were always merry, as if she were inwardly giggling at private jokes; she was kind and spirited, and always wore a smile. She had the strong jawline characteristic of a dwarf, with a snub nose and determined chin, and her skin was earthy, with ruddy cheeks; she had yet to grow a beard, but when it appeared, all were certain that it would be the same brilliantly auburn colour as her hair. Her father, Balel Nuradrum, was a skilled smith, who crafted fine jewellery and fashioned beautiful weapons in his forge. For miles around, many travelled to him with designs which they paid handsomely for him to craft, and he passed his knowledge down to his daughter and only child.

It was during a long summer's day that Udwaline was to meet the object of her undoing. An elven lord had travelled from the court of King Thranduil of Mirkwood with a message for Balel, along with designs he wished the dwarf to create. Faelir fascinated Udwaline, with his easy grace and elegance, which reminded her of how clumsy and awkward the dwarf men could be. She stared across her father's forge at him as the two men discussed payment and delivery, hiding behind her curtain of hair and peering at the willowy elf from beneath her lashes. Her eyes followed him as he seemed to glide from the forge to his horse, having given his message to her father and received the terms; he appeared in his saddle as if he were simply stepping up a stair, and he smiled down at her, remarking that he would return in seven days to collect the commissioned items.

In the ensuing days leading to the elf's return, Udwaline became distracted and distant, often preferring to spend her days alone in her father's forge, or roaming the town with no specific purpose, but simply to wander. Her father noted the sudden change in his daughter, and felt unsettled as he realised the catalyst for this downturn in her mood. The seven days could not elapse soon enough for Udwaline, and on the morning of Faelir's return, her mood lightened as she bustled around the small home the two dwarves shared. She baked bread and tidied the living quarters, and brushed her hair until it shone as the glittering jewels her father worked with. As the day wore on, Udwaline became more anxious, smoothing her clothing and snapping at her father as he came to into the kitchen to eat a midday meal with dirty hands and boots.

Finally, as the afternoon turned to dusk, a horse appeared on the road, carrying the tall and elegant elf lord, who apologised profusely for the lateness of the hour. Udwaline shyly directed him to the house, where her father was sitting with a mug of wine, and took his horse to the stable, before bustling back to the house and trying desperately to listen to the conversation of the two men whilst cooking the evening meal.

Balel handed the jewellery to the elf for examination, as Faelir passed the agreed payment over the table. After both parties were satisfied, Udwaline appeared with plates of food for the men and herself, and they ate together before Faelir rose, thanking them for their hospitality. At Udwaline's barely concealed cry, Balel reluctantly offered the elf a bed for the night, as the darkness was drawing in, and it was unwise to travel alone at night. Glancing between the two dwarves, Faelir looked unsure, but was soon settled with another mug of wine and, as Balel departed for bed, was left with Udwaline for company.

The two talked for a long while, sharing stories of their lives, and were fast discovering that they enjoyed each other's company immensely. As dawn drew near, Faelir had fallen asleep in front of the dying fire, and Udwaline had covered him with a blanket, then withdrew to her own bed.

In the morning, Faelir bade the two dwarves farewell, and left their home with his king's commissions. He returned, however, many times over the later months, with more orders for the smith and stayed to talk with the smith's lovely daughter.

Udwaline and Faelir developed a deep friendship over that time, and it was not unusual that Faelir began to stay a few days with the dwarves, if there were any way that Balel could complete a design in that time. Udwaline often entertained the elf with picnics and long walks, on which they soon discovered that their feelings could have grown deeper towards one another.

It was during one of these visits that Faelir discovered Balel absent from his forge. Udwaline appeared and revealed that her father had had to travel for more supplies, and offered her own services instead. Faelir had been reluctant to hand over the broken bracelet, as well as the new designs of the king's, but Udwaline assured him she was able to at least fix the clasp on the intricate piece of jewellery. She did this, and kept the designs which she would give to her father on his return; she then persuaded Faelir to stay the evening with her, and they ate and drank in the companionable way they had cultivated.

It was later in the evening, when the two had consumed much wine that Udwaline came to sit with Faelir, nearer to the fire. Her head had rested on his shoulder and they had continued to talk, until she had turned her face to his, to better answer a question he had posed to her. It was in that moment, when their eyes met, that it had felt like a deep pull in her chest, and she had tilted her determined chin towards him. His lips gently met hers in a chaste kiss, before becoming more passionate, more desperate for her touch.

It was intertwined, their naked bodies lit by the dying embers of the fire and caressed by the earliest dawn rays, that Balel found them the next morning.

That had been the end of their relationship, as Balel had bid a frosty farewell to the young elf lord a few minutes later, with a warning that he was not to visit them again. If his king wished for more commissions, he was to send an elf with more sense and respect about him. It was then he turned to Udwaline with fury, and forbade her from ever seeing the elf again. But the damage had been done, and it became apparent that Udwaline was with child – this was the creation of Miluiel, her name an Elvish tribute to her absent father, and her pale grey eyes the only reminder to her mother of her much longed-for lover.

Balel found it difficult not to love the half-blood child, despite her conception and her heritage, as she was simply beautiful. Long russet curls which echoed her mother, and large grey eyes which were framed with thick lashes drew people to her. Her mouth was full, with a more than generous bottom lip, and she possessed her mother's determined chin. As she grew, her Elvish nature became more apparent; her limbs were long and slim, with a small frame which remained petite as she matured into a young woman, never growing taller than the average dwarf woman. She also retained the stubborn dwarfish element to her personality, and soon became of an age at which Balel could teach her his craft, and how to adequately defend herself, if the need should ever arise. She became skilled with a bow, and was reasonably successful with a short sword, although never had the strength with which to heft an axe which, although he would never admit it, slightly disappointed Balel.

The three dwarves lived companionably, on the outskirts of their settlement as they always had, with the townsfolk whispering at first, but the situation soon became tolerable, and even accepted.

Udwaline's life was happy and busy, but Balel and Miluiel would both catch her looking sadly into the distance from time to time, mourning her lost and forbidden love.

Gandalf started as he felt a small hand upon his forearm, and he glanced from the slim fingers up to the concerned face of his young travelling companion. Miluiel's anxious eyes were wide, and he realised that she must have been waiting for his response, as he was lost in his memories.

"What was it you were saying, child?" he asked gently, curving his lips into a small smile, "I apologise, I was wandering in my thoughts, how terribly rude of me."

"I asked where it was you were headed," she replied softly, spurring on her pony so as to keep up with the swift pace Gandalf had set, "Although, I understand if you do not want to reveal that to me."

The wizard set his lips in a thin, considering line, and left a silence between them for a few seconds, before looking at her strangely, almost as if he were staring into her heart to determine her motives. He then forced another smile, "I am simply travelling to see some old friends my dear; that is all. I am hoping to see a young Hobbit who lives in the Shire. The Hobbits have always been fond of my fireworks."

Miluiel laughed, throwing back her autumnal curls and exposing her white throat as the sound gurgled from somewhere deep in her chest. Her mirth was infectious, for Gandalf too was soon laughing along, remembering the looks of awe and wonder on the faces of the Hobbits as they gazed at the stars and lights his fireworks created.

It was with a slightly heavy heart that he bid farewell to the young woman, waving to her mother who had spilled out of their front door on their arrival and greeted him as the old friend he was. He declined their offer of lodgings for the night, and continued on his journey to the Shire, for he had a very important meeting to get to, and it would not do for the wizard to be late. For it was this night that he would irrevocably change a life forever.