Of Carven Stone
"No."
"Sviar." Litur ran a hand through his beard, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Your ninety-fifth year has come and gone. Your brothers, your cousins, your mother and I - we had all expected you to choose a husband by now."
"No." Sviar was standing in the centre of her parents' dining cavern, her body held in a way that suggested she'd rather be crouched to spring. Litur couldn't tell whether the gleam in her eyes was that of a trapped rabbit - or a Warg that had sighted its prey.
"What about Jari, Ingi's son?" he suggested. "He's of an age with you, and you have been spending much time in his company. I understand you might not have studied him in this vein before, but-"
"No." Sviar straightened up and shook herself slightly. "Father, I appreciate what you are trying to do, but the answer is no. I will not be marrying Jari - or any man."
"But why?" Litur couldn't keep the despair from creeping into his voice as he tried and failed to make sense of his daughter's certainty. "Is there some other man you have set your heart on - one who has already wed another?"
Sviar barked out a laugh. "Is that truly the only explanation you can…?" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Father, you have made it clear to me that you would not understand. I will not burden you with a truth you could only reject."
"It would be no burden, but a relief," Litur said, but Sviar was no longer listening. Sweeping up a few items from the table, she turned to the door. Then she seemed to reconsider, and glanced back over her shoulder.
"Perhaps someday," she said, "when Annar and Hannar have given you the grandsons you long for, you will be ready to hear my reasons. But not now." She swept out of the cave, leaving her father bewildered in her wake.
"I feel guilty."
Loni touched her hand gently to Sviar's cheek. "There is no need for guilt."
"Nevertheless." Sviar looked up at her. "Do you know, my father believed that I might have an interest in Jari."
Loni started back and stared at Sviar. "In my brother?"
"Aye." Sviar chuckled. "Apparently I have spent 'much time' around him."
"Around… him." Loni smiled lopsidedly. "I suppose such a misapprehension is better than that he should realise the truth."
"I wish, almost, that he would." Sviar reached back and clasped Loni's hand in hers. "That it - that we - could be chiseled out for all to see, and our love known for what it is."
"As do I." Loni gripped Sviar's hand tighter, and pulled the other woman up from her chair. "But it cannot be." She reached her free hand up and ran it through Sviar's beard, then up to caress her cheek. "You know this."
"I do. But…" Sviar groped for words, but found none. She wrapped her arm around Loni, pulled her close. "I love you. And someday, the whole of Durin's folk will know it."
"Someday," Loni agreed with a sad smile, and kissed her lover once again.
Disclaimer: Middle-earth and everything associated with it belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. All characters in this story are my own.
Author's Note: It is a canonical fact that, even though there are only half as many dwarf women as men, some women never marry. Some have their hearts set on someone who isn't interested in them, while others simply don't want to get married. And as in the real world, some of those are certain to be attracted to other women, instead. I can't imagine they had an easy time telling their parents, though...
All dwarf names are taken from the Norse Catalogue of Dwarves, the same source as Tolkien's names.
