Chapter One
"Jora, Jora! Come quickly! Adad and Amad have an announcement to make!" Elin cried excitedly as she burst into the parlor where Jora was overseeing Ama and Ema's sewing lessons. Jora jumped up, her ginger curls bouncing, and let Elin grab her hand and drag her to their father's study. Of course, not wanting to be left out, Ama and Ema quickly followed their older sisters. Elin threw open the heavy oaken door and tugged Jora across the cool stone floor to stand breathless in front of their father's desk.
Lord Halvar was stocky and thickly built, even for a dwarf. He had a barrel-like torso, huge arms, and large hands and feet. His cocoa brown hair and beard were lightly streaked with grey. His beard was forked and braided into two halves with a few side braids woven in. He had low, bushy brows that tended to make him appear cross all the time. He was currently seat at his large oaken desk, considering a scroll of parchment in his hand with his wife standing at his right side.
Lady Eda was a real dwarven beauty. She always had all the right curves in all the right places, even after bearing children. Her hair was a thick, rich, golden color with a lovely she-dwarf beard growing from just below her ears to half way down her jawline. She wore a leaf green velvet gown to match her husband's hunter green tunic, and her hair was piled up in a intricate knot of dozens of little braids.
On Lord Halvar's left stood Olin, who was a copy of his father, except he had his mother's blue eyes where his father had dark brown eyes. He wore a deep red tunic and had several small braids woven in his beard.
At his daughters' noisy entrance, Halvar look up and eyed his daughters up and down. Elin was an an exact copy of his wife when she was a young dwarf-maid; a golden-haired, blue-eyed beauty and sure to catch Prince Fili's attention. Ama and Ema were not old enough to marry, but they were breaking hearts already. They both had light brown hair that shone with gold highlights in the fire or sunlight, and their mother's sky blue eyes. He would have to begin considering suitors for them a few years.
Then, his gaze turned to Jora. She was so differnet from all the others, there was no doubt as to whether or not she was adopted. Her bright red curls haloed her head and fell down her back in a wild mane that still refused to be tamed. Her intelligent grey-green eyes shone out of her round, pale face. She was still as thin as a sapling tree without even a hint of a beard. Some whispered that she was a elf-child abandoned by her parents because she was too small for them to think she would live. Others said she must have been born out of wedlock and was thus cursed beardless by Mahal. Halvar knew Jora was no elf-child; she was too small and did not have pointed ears. He also was not a superstitious dwarf by any means; he highly doubted she in anyway cursed.
The only thing he feared was the people's perception of him if he treated her as his own child. So, he kept the girl at arms length, ensuring she was cared for, but not with same luxury as his other children. Where Elin, Ama, and Ema wore velvets, silks, and fine wools, Jora wore simpler gowns and fabrics. She had one summer silk evening gown and one winter velvet gown in case she had to make an appearance at a feast or banquet, but that was all. Any jewels or hair ornaments she wore besides simple ribbons were borrowed from Elin. A small part of him felt guilty, the part that had always been proud of Jora being the first of his children to read and write, to learn and understand concepts of history, numbers, and science, and held her head up and bore no one any ill-will when the whispers and taunts of the other children at court swirled around her. However, his pride and desire for his people's approval always quickly tapped those feelings down.
"Calm yourselves, my daughters," he began taking in Elin's excited, breathless state. "I have recieved a letter from His Majesty, King Thorin Oakenshield of Erebor."
"King Thorin!" Elin, Ama, and Ema squealed. Jora's eyes grew wide; this certainly was not an everyday occurance.
"Yes, he askes that every daughter-" More shrieks of excitement from the girls. He began again, louder to overcome his daughters. "Every daughter of age who is eligible for marriage-" Groans of disappointment escaped Ama and Ema's lips. "-is invited to come to Erebor for the consideration of Crown Prince Fili and Prince Kili as potential brides."
"Potential brides!" Elin gasped. She turned to her sister. "Oh, Jora! Think of it! One of us could be a princess! Or both of us! The princes are brothers after all, so their taste might run-"
"Don't be getting ahead of yourself, my dear," Lady Eda interrupted. "Jora is hardly princess material," she added coldly.
"But Amad," Elin cried, "Jora has had all of the same lessons as I. She is the daughter of the same lord as I. We are both equally eligible!"
"You are hardly equal, Elin, as you do not share your sister's...disability." Eda replied. "and there is more to it than just winning a prince's hand."
"King Thorin has promised valuable trade agreements to the hall from which his nephew's brides come," Halvar explained. "and there is no guarantee Prince Kili will chose anyone; this is mostly for Prince Fili."
"So, it's the crown prince that our sights are set on," Eda said. "Our people need this trade with Erebor."
"You make it all sound so...mercenery, Amad," Elin said frowning. "Will there be many others there?"
"All eligible dwarrowdams of each mountain hall are invited," Halvar replied.
"Wow." Elin looked at Jora whose eyes were huge and full of wonder, excitement, and a little bit of confusion. Visiting Erebor sounded wonderful; Jora had dreamed of going ever since word had reached the Grey Mountains of its reclaiming. She was excited for this oportunity, but if her parent did not think that she was "princess material" why was she summoned to the study?
"Yes, there will be much competition to win the princes' attention," Lady Eda said. She turned to Jora. "Make no mistake, Jora; it is Elin we are sending as a candidate. You will be there to help her in any way possible to win one of the princes, preferably Prince Fili. Do you understand?"
Jora nodded firmly.
"Since I am needed here, I am sending Olin and four gaurds with you three ladies to ensure your safety," Halvar said. "You will leave at the end of the week. I suggest you prepare accordingly."
"Yes, Adad," Elin answered and Jora nodded. "Come, Jora, we must decide which of my gowns will please the prince best!" Elin grabbed Jora's hand again and dragged her all the way back to their room. Once there, Elin closed the door and leaned back against it breathlessly for a moment before speaking. "I'm sorry about what Amad said. You are every as capable of being a princess as I am," she said. Jora gently took Elin's hand and led her to the desk where two chairs sat. Jora sat beforena stack a parchment, took up her quill and quickly wrote. It is alright, Elin. She has never thought of me as her daughter, not really.
"But that doesn't make it right!" Elin replied. "It's all because of that superstitious nonsense that goes around at court. You aren't cursed; you are blessed with a mind far more intellectual than mine. You understand things quicker and better than anyone else."
You are sweet, Elin, Jora wrote. You are the only one who sees a gift where all others see a deficiency.
"Well, it's true! You say and write the most beautiful, thought-provoking things," Elin answered. "I think you could win even King Thorin's heart just by writing to him. And we've all heard how stern he is."
Jora's eyes widened at the notion. Elin! she wrote.
"Think about it!" Elin gushed teasingly. "The mystery of not knowing what each other looks like, the lovely, intelligent missives you two will send back and forth, each one longer than the last," Elin clasped her hands together rapturously. "Finally, he will realize he cannot live without you as his queen. He will come here himself, and whisk you off to his mountain to be his bride." Elin gave an exaggerated sigh and look over at Jora who was trembling with silent laughter.
Still concocting your ridiculously romantic scenes. It is good that some things never change.
"Oh, I don't think this one is so ridiculous," Elin said. "I mean it would take several months at least, but I think if anyone could woo herself a prince or king by simply writing, it would be you."
You always have such faith in me, Elin, Jora answered.
"And it certainly is not unfounded, Sister, in spite of what everyone else says," Elin smiled."Come on, let us begin sorting gowns before Amad comes in here and thinks we're plotting to get out of going!"
Elin, she would not allow any excuse you could possibly think up.
"Well, if they were not sending you too, I would least try it," Elin said. "I'm going anywhere without you."
Of course. No one knows how to arrange your hair like I do, Jora smiled teasingly as she wrote.
Elin grinned "Dispite the fact you cannot tame your own locks. But your taste in jewels and accessories to match my gowns is impeccable. Never too much or too little. I have been named one of the gems of many a ball and feast because of you creating my outfits. I only hope that someday soon I'll be able to return the favor."
Jora shook her head. You do not truly think that Amad will let me attend the banquets and such, do you?
"Why not?"
You forget, I am not going as your sister and equal in this venture. I am going as your companion and maid to ensure your success. Surely, I will not be of status to attend the feasts.
"I will find a way to sneak you in, if I must," Elin declared as she crossed the room her wardrobe and trunk and pulled out a lilac gown. "Now, for our first audience, do think they will like blue or purple?" she asked, holding up the gown to her chest and giving and exaggerated curtesy.
Jora shook her head and silently giggled. Elin always was so bubbly and cheerful. No doubt she could catch a prince's attention. Jora stood and looked in the mirror at the vanity table. She caught the reflection of a skinny girl with wild, red hair and no beard. What chances would she have with the Princes of Durin anyway? What dwarf would wanted a little elf of a wife?
-«·»-
"I can't believe Uncle Thorin!" Kili cried, kicking a rock down the path in frustration.
"Relax, brother; he's not really forcing you into anything," Fili replied. The brothers were out on a hunting trip and were nearing their usual camping place.
"But he is practically forcing you, Fee!" Kili answered. "How could he? After all we've done, surely he could trust us to pick a wife when we're good and ready!"
"And when will that be, Kee?" Fili teased. "When you are grey bearded and too old to go off on adventures?"
Kili shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."
"And that would he why he is doing this," Fili said. "I think Uncle just wants to see us happy and settled, you know? And in my case," he added with a sigh. "he wants to know that I have my own heir to carry on the line of Durin."
"I still think he should let you pick a girl in your own good time," Kili replied stubbornly. "And the fact that he's only invited nobles isn't promising."
"Kili!"
"What? Don't you remember your coming of age party? Those were all the most empty-headed, simpering little things I've ever met in my life!"
Fili winced at the memory of being surrounded by fauning, eyelash-batting females. "I know, Kee, but that was just Ered Luin. Uncle has invited from all of the mountain halls. Some of them have to be different."
"For the sake of our sanity, I certainly hope so," Kili mutter darkly.
If you had trouble telling, all of Jora's written or thought dialogue will be in italic so you can differentiate it from regular spoken dialogue.