DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HOBBIT


Urla never thought she would have seen her One again after he ran from her. She had been so depressed that she hadn't even carved with her knife. And when her mother had asked her what the matter was, for what felt like the fortieth time, Urla had given a scream and ran out the house.

As she had wandered in the streets in the cool night air, she realized just how stupid her reaction was and maybe she should just have told her mother what happened. She had been thinking about heading back home when someone bumped into her and grabbed her hands. Her fingers had signed 'Swine eating hog' without her even thinking about it. Then she had looked up to see her One. Her heart had stopped for a moment and then it began racing. She had felt her face widen into a smile and suddenly all the depression and hurt she had been holding inside her; flooded her and she had leaned forward onto him. His beard was soft and she could hear his heart beating just as rapidly in his chest as hers was. She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent and then to her surprise she felt his arms slip around her to hold her tight against him. 'I love him,' the thought had run through her and made her shiver.

He had then pushed her away, and it only when she was out of that embrace did she realize that the shiver came not only from her feelings but also from the cold. He had held her hands, given her a look that showed all the concern he felt and then led her quickly down the street. She had followed him willingly knowing that he was probably taking her some place where she could get warm. She didn't know how she knew, but she trusted him. He was her One. He would not hurt her. He did lead them to an inn and when he begun to tend to fire, Urla had looked around to see what she could do to help. She spotted the kettle and thought of tea, since she was sure that he would be cold as well, if she was. So she had filled the kettle and came over to place it over the flames.

He had looked at her and she had smiled back, not knowing what else to do. Then once again he surprised her by reaching out and holding her face in his hands. The skin of his palms had been pleasantly rough and she had leaned into the firm but gentle hold. She had then felt his finger move against her skin. 'My One.' She had been sure he signed those signs against her cheek. Her eyes widened and she had been about to answer when the kettle sang out.

Now here she was sitting opposite to her One having tea in calm silence. She felt like she was in a dream.

When it was done she decided to risk being bold again and find out for sure if he recognized her as his One. So she held out her hands and as she hoped he placed his in hers. Then she moved his fingers to form half of the sign and then made her fingers to finish it. 'My One' both their hands made the sign.

She saw his eyes open wide and then look into her own light brown ones. Then he seemed for a moment to slip away from her. His eyes seemed focused on something else. It was then that she took the time to look over him. She had never really taken the time to look properly at her One. Her attention had been divided between his hands and his eyes.

The first thing she saw was the axe in his head. The blade was buried up to the flat hilt and the head of it was sticking out. She blinked once taking it in and suddenly she understood the reason why he had slipped away from her. Her One was a bit different from normal dwarves. She reached up and touched the axe head. His eyes snapped back to her with a sudden clarity. Fear, sorrow and a harsh pride showed hard in those eyes. Urla took in all those emotions and very slowly she ran her fingers over the scars that spread from the imbedded axe. As her fingers trailed down the smooth lines of his scars, she felt his emotions keenly. Fear; that she would reject him because of it, sorrow; that he could not be like the other dwarves and respond to her as a normal male would, and the fierce pride; he did not regret what happened, so it must have happened in a situation where he had done his best for a good cause and this was his fate now to bear. Urla wondered if all dwarves had this sort of connection with their One; it was a painful but beautiful thing. She didn't care that he had an axe in his head. He was her One and she loved him no matter what he was like. She would not trade him for anything.

Her fingers ran down from the scars and softly over his thick brows that were shot through with silver. She wondered how old he was; not that it mattered to her but he must have seen much and been through much and she wanted to find out about his life experiences. She then trailed her fingers further down over his nose making him twitch a bit and resulting her laughing softly. Her smiled at her then seemed to freeze when her hands drifted over his lips briefly then she sank her fingers into his soft beard. She held his braids, running her fingers down them gently marveling at how he managed to have the interlocking black and white of his hairs done so neatly and tied at the end with silver.

She felt him smile again and then he spoke softly.

"Stupid hair. It just makes no sense,' he said in Khuzdûl. Urla glanced up, recognizing the line as hers, into those intense grey brown eyes and gave a sheepish shrug.

"Your hair is nice. Mine is stupid," she tossed her head a bit feeling the weight of her plait against her back. He reached up and held the braid hanging from her neck. Holding it between his first finger and thumb, he ran his hand down the length of it then pulled it to his lips.

"Beautiful," he spoke against it. Urla felt her skin flush. Then he dropped it suddenly and looked away again from her. But Urla simply smiled and reached up to touch the hair on his head. It was a thick, black, somewhat unruly mane of hair.

"Braid it sometime?" she asked, not daring to look into his eyes. Maybe she was being too bold this time. But the look in his eyes told her otherwise.

"You are my One," he said softly, as if in awe. Urla felt tears of relief and happiness well up inside her. He recognized her. She nodded back to him her hands falling back to her lap.

"Yes," she replied, "I am. And you are mine. You are my One." In that moment something happened. Urla could not place her finger on it but something changed in her One. The wandering look in his eyes grew less and he seemed to have more shape. It was the best way she could explain it. It was like the times when she had a piece that she thought was finished and then she would make a small nick in the wood somewhere and the whole piece would seem to shape out and become a better piece than before.

"Bifur," he said smiling again now.

"Urla," Urla said smiling back at him.