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[This chapter is rated T]

Chapter 4: Fire


["I am no Lady, master dwarf. My name, if you would, is Merésgaleth."]

Merésgaleth . . .

It was night time now, and though many within Middle- Earth would not believe it, a dwarf and an elf were sitting quietly by a fire nestled just west of the mountain of Erebor.

Tholi had been thinking, replaying the events of the prior morning over and over within his head, half in disbelief at what had happened.


He looked at her, the strange, mysterious elf, crouched low in front of the orc they had captured that morning. Her knife, now half through the meat of the creatures arm was spilling black blood in cascades over her whitish fingers, staining them with its odd color. Though he would never had thought to use this method to gain answers . . . he found himself unable to argue with its worth, as the orc was sputtering words faster than he had ever imagined it would.

"Going . . . AAAGH! . . . to retrieve . . . the Palantír . . . from Angm- AAAAG"

And she had stopped then, rendering the creatures head from its body, finally finding what she was looking for.

'So unlike any elf I've ever heard of,' he had thought, 'yet she looks as one would imagine . . .'

She got up from her crouch, quickly wiping her dagger on a stray cloth and the ground, frowning when she could not rid its blade of the entirety of the filth. Her front was splattered with remnants of the battle, just like his was, darkening the silver and gold of the tunic she was wearing. Her expression had softened, and wisps of her raven hair were clinging to her face and cheeks, still flush from the rush of the quarrel, having come undone from the long braid trailing down the length of her back.

She was short. For an elf.

Seeming to notice his gaze, she turned toward him with her, and he looked quickly away, not wanting to give her the impression that he had been staring.

'Though I would like to have looked a little longer . . .'

Surely he must have been wounded, and was losing so much blood that he had ceased to be in control of his thoughts. Wanting to study the elf for longer? Ridiculous, he thought. Any other dwarf would not have hesitated during their first encounter, driving their sword into her gut.

And yet, he had hesitated.

In all his years in the Blue Mountains, he had known only few dwarfish women among the small groups of his people that called it home. Including his mother. While they were not docile, as they shared the same peppery constitution that most dwarves possessed, they were not fighters. They were mothers, or would be, knowing that a female dwarf was a rarer occurrence indeed.

This was the first time he had crossed paths with a woman with such a strong spirit, let alone the deadly grace of an elven warrior. From the first time he had gazed into her bluish eyes, knife pressed against her neck, he knew he could never kill someone with such a passion about them.

He was fascinated.

The dart of her eyes across the battlefield, and the swift blows she dealt to each and every orc that dared to challenge her reminded him greatly of the thrill he felt every time he had been hunting in the mountains. She was lithe, and yet carried a gravity around her that made even himself feel drawn toward her.

She was like an arrow, loosed from its bow flying straight, and deadly, and true toward its target, stopped by nothing, afraid of nothing.

She was so very free.


And you are so VERY OUT OF YOUR MIND, Tholi, son of Osk!

He grimaced in the firelight, very much annoyed that he was even entertaining the very ideas he was having. Huffing quietly, he tore into a small parcel of hard bread, beginning to question his sanity.

Across the small fire, her face was scrunched in concentration, still trying to remove a hardened bit of some part of an orc from her longsword, the shadows dancing across her delicate features. He looked to her, sitting quietly there, wondering how in the world he could have arrived at this moment.

Seeming to notice his gaze, again, she stopped, and looked slowly to him from behind her think veil of lashes, eyes glistening like the brightest of jewels in Erebor through the darkness.

It's as if my thoughts are so loud that she can hear them, damn it all.

"Master dwarf, you look troubled," She said, setting her sword to the side with a soft sigh," I admit, my thoughts have been racing all the while we have been sitting here as well . . ."

He gulped, eyes widening slightly, the smallest bit afraid that maybe she had weaved some sort of elfish magic about him and could hear his thoughts indeed.

Confused slightly at his reaction, she raised a brow at him, "The Palantír, master dwarf? The seeing stones made by the Ɲoldor in Eldamar, in the Elder Days? Do you know of them?"

Internally, he released his held breath, relieved that she perhaps wasn't some devilish trickster after all.

"Yes, I have heard of them, though we dwarves have less knowledge of them than the elves possess. I know that they are wicked things, most lost to the four winds . . . until now, I suppose."

She nodded, and looked at him in a serious tone.

"Until now. And it bothers me more than anything that orcs of all beings were searching for one. Within the ruins of Angmar nonetheless. Do you know what it could mean if they had found one, master dwarf?"

"Not fully, though I can certainly guess the intention," he said quietly.

"If those orcs had reached the stone in Angmar, my guess is that they would have taken it to some dark place, far from the light of the earth to be used for some unspeakable malevolence . . . though I suredly doubt they would have made it much farther what with them crossing paths with one of your watch and catching the attention of Mirkwood's King, the ugly fools. They move slower than dead men and breathe louder than dwarves, hah!"

Her short, but genuine laugh mingled with the crackling of the fire in front of Tholi, and he couldn't help but smile at her teasing tone. Gone from one serious matter to joking in an instance, he was enthralled with this being before him. If this was the nature of all elves, he thought, he wouldn't mind so much to cross paths with others.

Though even then, none would be quite the same as this one . . . Merésagleth . . . I wonder what her name means.

Not wanting to ask, he made a mental note that if he ever had the opportunity to, he would somehow find out.

"Have you ever met an elf before, master dwarf?" She called from across the flames.

"No, you are the first. And if I may say it, I certainly hope you are not the last."

At this she let a long laugh, like the peal of bells rise high into the evening air, throwing her head back with the effort of her gesture.

"No elf in all of Mirkwood would have guessed that I'd be sharing a hearth with a dwarf this evening. You are most strange a creature, and not at all what I would have expected. In the best of ways, of course."

Stifling her laughter at last, she turned to lay down then, covering herself with the grey cloak she had been wearing all the day.

"I will not sleep, as I need nothing less than rest and meditation to replenish my strength. Though I doubt you would find it in you to give me your trust, I can assure you that I will stay awake tonight. The fire will be warm, and I will be watching. Take as much comfort from that as you will, master dwarf."

And now it was Tholi's turn to smile, amused that the elf couldn't tell that she had already gained his trust, and maybe something more.

"I will, then," he said, following suit and wrapping himself in his thick, fur lined cloak, turning his heavy lidded gaze to the brilliant stars overhead.

"And Merésgaleth," he sighed with his low and weary voice.

"Call me Tholi."


Authors Note: Thank you to Celebrisilweth for the follow, and zerodarkwolf for the favorite as of 12/24/2014.

[To Celebrisilweth: Yes, orcs again. Unfortunately, they tend to be a staple enemy in Middle- Earth. And even though Tholi and Gholi are absolute GOONS no pair could ever rival Fili and Kili's level of shenanigans.]

Thank you again for the support!