Author's Notes: This chapter would have been published yesterday, too, if it wasn't for those damned Elves. They're much harder to write than Dwarves. The Elf part ends up being so small, partly because I can't freaking write them convincingly!

Chapter 9:

Elastic Heart

while still on the quest, in Rivendell …

Fili wandered the halls of Rivendell restlessly. The Company had already stayed in the Elven valley for several days, waiting for the right phrase of the moon to read the runes on Thorin's map. Being surrounded by Elves was weighing on every member of the company, except of course for Bilbo and Gandalf. It was finally the morning of Midsummer's Eve; Elrond would read the map tonight, and they'd finally be on their way tomorrow. But Fili was restless for another reason, besides being immobile and hosted by Elves. After that first day when it had seemed as if Moira was relaxing around him, she had all but disappeared. Her running hot and cold was beginning to annoy him, but he had to admit it was also part of what kept him interested. He had never had to pursue a lass he was interested in for so long before, either Darrowdam or Manfolk. It was both extremely frustrating and extremely exciting.

Fili had noted with interest that unlike many of her race, Moira seemed nearly as uncomfortable around their hosts as any of the Dwarves, although most oft she retreated into herself instead of lashing out in anger. Not counting the first time she meet Elrond, Fili thought with a chuckle. He was certain she would never have allowed herself to lose her temper like that if they had not spent an entire night and half a day running from Orcs and Wargs. Still Fili could not help but be impressed by the way she had stared down both the ancient Elf and the fearsome anger of his uncle, whose own temper he knew from experience was also quite fearsome. It only made him desire Moira more.

As a Dwarf, Fili took distrust of Elves as a given. But he had seen how Men idolized the pointy-eared immortals, awed by their beauty, immortality, and wisdom, and was surprised that Moira did not do the same. He wondered what the story behind that was, if indeed there was a story. But thus far after the first day in Rivendell, he had only seen her at mealtimes, before she quickly slipped off again, going Mahal knows where, doing Mahal knows what.

~000~

In a secluded, tree-lined glen, Moira went through her stances with her daggers. She whirled the twin weapons in her palms, slicing at empty air, before spinning around, as if trying to decapitate an invisible enemy. She had shed most of her layers of traveling clothes in a messy pile under one of the silver-leafed trees. In the safety of Imladis, she could worry more about comfort than practicality. She intended to take full advantage of not having to carry every object she owned on her person, even if it were just for one more day. With her heavy wool cloak and linen tunic removed, she only wore a form-fighting sleeveless bodice of forest green, black leggings, and soft, brown leather boots. Her dark hair was growing at an annoying pace, and it was at that stage where it was ragged-looking, long enough to get in her face, but too short to do anything with. She was going to have to cut it soon. Her muscled arms were covered in a fine sheen of sweat from the exertion of her workout. She had come here every day to work out her frustrations.

When she wasn't practicing her swordplay, she cast the runes obsessively, seeking guidance. She was determined to try to save Fili's life in the great battle at the end of the quest, and Kili's and Thorin's too. But she wasn't sure what to do beyond that. Did Gandalf know who she was? Had he scooped her up for a reason? If she realized who she was, could the wizard put an end to her curse? He was a Maiar, after all. Would she be able to save Fili at the Battle of Five Armies? Was she going to have to make the horrible choice of choosing between saving Fili and saving Kili and/or Thorin? Would she die herself in the process? Would getting involved with Fili be beneficial to her goal of saving his life, or would it only cloud matters? Was it even possible to have a life with him?

No answers were forthcoming. Her emotions were churning like a hurricane-tossed sea, and the runes could only be cast and read properly while calm. She may as well have been shaking a Magic 8 ball, repeatedly getting "Answer Hazy; Try Again Later". The calmness of Rivendell was not good for her. It made her think too much. In the wild there was no time to think. In the wild, life was all about survival, the desperate fight to continue to live. Even when not fighting off Orcs or running from Wargs, survival was always paramount. There was always the next job, the next step to think about. Fires to build, shelter to find, food to forage for, dangerous weather and animals to stay on the look-out for. Not being skilled with a bow made hunting require even more thought and planning on her part. But since she was an excellent tracker, she had learned to make snares. Every night she searched for rabbit-paths to set them up on near camp, and the Company usually ate rabbit or some other small game for breakfast. No matter what, there was always something to occupy the mind and body out there. Not here. In Elven cities, time seemingly stood still, which left her mind free to wander down any path it would. And that path usually went to a particularly dark corner of her past, or to her tumultuous emotions and worries and fears for the future. In the wild, there was only the eternal present. She was most comfortable there.

"Lady Moira?"

She whirled around, nearly jumping out of her skin. Some Ranger. She hadn't heard a fucking thing! Gods-damned Elves! It was Elladan and Elrohir. Great. Both of them this time.

"Odin's beard! Announce yourself, why don't you! You guys are so damned quiet!"

"I apologize if we startled you –"

"Damn right, you did!"

The other one finished the first's sentence. "But our father wishes to speak with you."

Uh oh. At the mention of Lord Elrond, Moira stilled. Her mind whirling, she briefly considered refusing. But that would be suspicious as fuck, so she decided against it. She sighed.

"Fine. Just give me a moment to gather my stuff."

~000~

Moira's apprehension had grown with every step she took following tall, graceful twins. They normally tried to engage her in conversation about the Rangers, with her being the reserved one. Now they were stony silent. Every instinct told her to bolt. It took all her willpower to continue to place one foot in front of the other. Elladan and Elrohir led her to one of the many council chambers in Rivendell.

"We'll take our leave here." They both inclined their heads to her elegantly, and then beat a hasty (for an Elf) retreat. They didn't spare her another glance or make sure actually entered the room to conduct her to their father. Odin help me, that is not a good sign. When she was sure they had turned the corner and wouldn't see what she was doing,Moira cracked the door. The words that came to her ears through the crack made her blood run cold and confirmed her worst fears.

"She's been marked by dark magic, Gandalf. I know you can feel it."

Moira's heart skipped a beat. It was Elrond speaking, and arguing with Gandalf. About her.

"That was not of her doing."

"How do you know? You've admitted that you've never spoken to her about it!"

"I do not need to. I've looked into her heart. Trust me, mellon."

Certain that she was going to painted as a villain, Moira fled. She only had to avoid Elrond until a few hours after moonrise, when she knew that Gandalf would be occupying the White Council while the Company sneaks out of Imladis. If she moved from room to room, garden to garden, balcony to balcony, she could most likely hide until it was time to leave… She'd have to skip the next couple of meals, but she'd gone without food for longer. She'd survive. Because she ran, Moira didn't hear the rest of conversation.

"She needs our help, Mithrandir. Her burden will only grow, and the darkness that marks her soul will threaten to consume her."

"I know, old friend. But she must ask for our help, and I fear that day is a long way off. If we offer it to her when she is not ready, I sense she will flee like a freighted deer. For now, my heart tells me she has a role to play here, and that her destiny bound up with Durin's Folk, but I do not know how yet …"

~000~

It was raining, trapping Dwarf and Elf alike inside. Fili had not seen Moira since breakfast. She had sat with Bilbo and Balin at a small, half-moon shaped table against the wall that didn't have room for anyone else, and then promptly disappeared. It was afternoon now; she had inexplicably skipped lunch, which she had never done before. That worried Fili. Even if she wasn't the biggest fan of Elven food, she had never missed a meal, because as she had put it when Dwalin and Oin had complained about the lack of meat, "you never know if you're gonna find an actual full meal in the wild, and I've gone hungry too many times in my life to turn down free food." So when she didn't show up for the evening meal, either, Fili was really worried. Kili was the only other one of the Company who shared his concern, although he suspected his brother was searching the other side of Rivendell just to humor him. So now Fili wandered the maze of open-walled, interconnected buildings, searching.

He found himself in the library, which was strangely deserted. Considering the rain, he would have expected to see somebody here. He was about to leave, when he heard a soft, familiar voice singing quietly. That couldn't be … Could it? It was. He hadn't seen her because she was tucked away in a far corner, where there were actual solid walls away from the openness that let in the warm summer wind. She was sitting on a long, low couch, her knees drawn up to her chest. She looked miserable.

Her eyes were closed as she sang softly to herself, but Fili slipped behind a pillar to listen, just in case she opened them. He felt slightly guilty for ease-dropping, but pushed that aside. When she sang for the Company, the songs she had chosen were clearly picked for their enjoyment. He hoped maybe her choice was she was alone would give him a clue to how she was feeling, and perhaps help him to break through her barriers. He didn't recognize some of the words in the songs she sang, but as he listened, he heard the indeterminable sadness in her voice, so deep and wide it was like a wave threatening to pull him under and drown him in a sea of hopelessness. Is this what she really feels, when she's alone? Fili felt a surge of pity, unbidden, and immediately realized that pity was the last thing his proud Ranger would want from him, or anyone. There was a reason she kept this part of herself locked anyway. Still, Fili longed to let her know that she could tell him anything, share any of her burdens with him, and he would shoulder it gladly, do his best to take the pain away, and protect her from her demons. The intensity of his response surprised him, and made him realize that his feelings for the human woman went far, far deeper than mere desire, friendship, or infatuation. When did that happen? Fili thought to himself. Moira's eyelids fluttered, and he watched, entranced, as she stilled for a moment, before she began to sing another song. He listened intently to the words

And another one bites the dust

Oh, why cannot I not conquer love?

And I might have thought that we were one

Wanted to fight this war without weapons

And I want it, I wanted it so bad

But there were so many red flags

Now another one bites the dust

.

Oh, let's be clear, I trust no one

You did not break me

I'm still fighting for peace

.

But I've got thick skin and an elastic heart

But your blade, it might be too sharp

I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard

Oh I may snap and I move fast

.

You won't see me fall apart

Cuz I've got an elastic heart

Oh, I've got an elastic heart

.

Oh I will stay up through the night

Oh, let's be clear, won't close my eyes

And I know that I can survive

I'll walk through fire to save my life

And I want it, I want my life so bad

I'm doing everything I can

And another one bites the dust

It's hard to lose a chosen one

.

You did not break me

I'm still fighting for peace

I've got thick skin and an elastic heart

But your blade, it might be too sharp

I'm like a rubber band and if you pull to hard

Oh I may snap and I move fast

You won't see me fall -

The song ended in the middle of a sentence with a soft sob, and before Fili had thought about what he was doing he was by her side. She looked up at him from her position on the low couch, and he expected her to be angry that he had been spying on her, but he saw only an empty sadness. She hardly looked like the same woman who had bellowed at Lord Elrond and stared down Thorin Oakenshield, just days before. Right now, with tears streaking her face, she looked so much younger, like a broken child. It hit him, just then, how young she really was. She was Manfolk, she could not have yet reached her third decade, or so he'd wager. Although he did have difficulty telling the age of Men. What could have possibly happened to her in so short a time that would weigh her down so?

She gazed up at him, a question on her face, not saying a word. On impulse, Fili leaned down, only hesitating a moment before he kissed her. She didn't run or reject him this time. She kissed him back, softly at first, lips moving against his slowly. Her lips were just as soft as he remembered. When the kiss ended, she drew herself up wordlessly, holding onto his collar, so she was perched on her knees on the couch. That action bought them nearly level.

Fili saw the emotions warring in her dark eyes, the fear, sadness, desire, hope, and something else he couldn't yet name. Moira's hands were still at his collar, her fingertips touching the bare flesh of his neck. He could feel trembling. It scared him. This was so unlike her. She was the strongest woman he had ever met, other than his own mother. Her eyes roamed his face, searching for … something. He didn't know what. She still looked so sad. He didn't want her to look sad after kissing him.

Fili took her face in his hands, his thumbs caressing each tear-stained cheek slowly. She shivered at his touch. Her eyelids fluttered, but those bewitching dark eyes never left his. He wanted so much to ask her what was wrong, but somehow he sensed that the question would cause her to immediately flee. Instead he kissed her again, and he knew it was the right decision when her body melted into his. His mouth moved against hers gently, softly. Her hands slid back to grasp the back of his neck, holding his lips to hers. He couldn't help but smile against her mouth, triumphant. He had known she wanted this as much as him. When he did so, he was surprised that she was the one to deepen the kiss by sliding her tongue along his lips, gently probing. He tenderly responded, one of the hands cupping her face moving up to stroke her far-too-short hair as his tongue glided along hers.

He pulled away from the kiss, smiling at the small sound of protest Moira made as her hands slid down his chest. They rested at his belt buckle for a moment, as she looked up at him, unsure of what to do, before sliding around his waist and pulling him closer, sliding them up his back again. His left hand still cupping her face, he planted soft kisses on her tear-stained cheeks, wanting nothing more than to wipe those marks away and leave only a healthy, happy glow. She swayed a little, and his right arm moved to circle her waist, ceasing to stroke her hair.

Eventually, when Fili was satisfied that the tear-marks had disappeared, he moved to her delicate earlobe, planting a small kiss there, and was rewarded with a gasp. He had guessed her ears would be sensitive, from the many times he had whispered into her ears and seen her shiver in response. He blew onto her ear now, and she arched her body against him. He couldn't suppress his groan. He kissed the spot directly below her ear, his tongue darting out to lick the pink flesh, drawing out the first true moan from Moira's lips. Both of his arms circled her waist now, as he continued to kiss and gently nip at her neck and throat, delighting in every little gasp and breathy moan she made.

"Fili," she breathed, so softly he almost didn't hear it, even as every fiber of his being was attuned to the noises she was making. Hearing her say his name like that made his spirit soar and caused a delicious tightness below his belt, which he ignored, for now, to concentrate on her. Her hands had come back to his shoulders, and she was clinging to him for dear life. She swayed again, even with the support of both his arms, and that had him make the decision to lay her back onto the couch. He briefly considered lying on the couch with her, but decided against it. She had seemed nervous when her hands had ended up at his belt buckle earlier. The last thing Fili wanted to do was push her farther than she wanted to go, especially when she was feeling so vulnerable.

Instead, he kneeled on the ground beside the couch, and claimed her lips again. This time her hands went to his hair, and Fili had to suppress a moan. He doubted she had any idea how sensitive a Dwarf's scalp was, and therefore what touching their hair would do to them. It was a very good thing he hadn't laid on the couch with her. There was a reason that traditionally the only person, other than family members, allowed to touch a Dwarf's hair was their partner. That didn't mean they had to be married first, of course. Dwarves were chivalrous, notcastrated. But for an unrelated person to a touch a Dwarf's hair was distinctly sexual. When she had caressed his braids in the woods, she had unintentionally stated that she wished to pursue him and begin courting. He knew she didn't realize this, but his body and heart had responded anyway. They were responding similarly now. He kissed her harder, his hands sliding down the sides of her slim torso, avoiding touching what he really wanted to touch, not yet. Not until she gave him verbal permission for it to go further. Fili felt her shiver, moaning softly into his mouth. Mahal, he wanted her. She was testing his determination to not push her.

He pulled away from the kiss, wanting to look at her, noticing that this time her parted lips were swollen and slick from his attentions, her cheeks flushed attractively. It pleased Fili immensely to see the dazed look in Moira's eyes. It confirmed that she wanted him just as much he did her. She moaned his name again as he bent to kiss her collarbone, running his tongue along the clavicle. He tasted her sweat, smelled the flowery Elvish soap she'd been using. He preferred the earthy musk she attained when she'd been sleeping beneath the pines, but he delighted in her unique scent anyway.

His hand laid on her stomach, between her leggings and bodice, rubbing gently. "Fili, I-" She moaned as he kissed her neck again. That hadn't been a moan, she was trying to say something. He continued to kiss her neck.

"Fili, we -" she gasped again before she could get what she was saying out.

His voice was rough when he responded, stopping his ministrations. "Yes, lass?"

"We should slow down. I-I-I don't want to go too fast." He nodded into her neck.

"Are you mad?" She asked, apprehension plain in her voice.

Fili chuckled, pulling himself back, but not without effort. "Lass, yesterday I wasn't sure you even wanted to talk to me."

"I didn't." She sighed. "I was afraid this would happen."

"Is it really so terrible?" Fili kissed the bridge of her nose, making her smile.

"No, it's wonderful." She sighed again. "It's just …complicated."

Fili got the impression that she didn't mean it was complicated because of the quest, or his uncle, or that they were of two different races, or even because he was royalty. He was almost certain that she was over her former husband, although understandably, the pain of her lost child would never go away. He would never expect it to. No, he sensed there was something else, something that haunted her that she was unwilling to share. But he didn't ask. Moira would tell him when she was ready and only when she was ready. Pushing her now would only push her further away from him. She could keep her secrets for now. He only wanted her. Fili kissed the middle of her forehead, and Moira sighed in contentment. A smile ghosted across his lips. That's what I want to hear. Fili placed his forehead to hers, one of his hands on the back of her neck, and closed his eyes. He doubted she understood the significance of the gesture, but he found himself wanting to do so anyway. In that moment, Fili thought he could stay like this forever.

~000~

Author's Notes: I know, I know, if she's trying to hide from Elrond, she shouldn't be in the library, singing to herself. I sort of wrote myself into a corner, when in the third chapter, "Firsts", I mentioned that their first real, slow-burning kiss had not only been in Rivendell, but in the library on a rainy day. But I NEEDED this exchange between Gandalf and Elrond to happen, and mood-wise, the kiss kinda had to happen AFTER Moira overhears it. She needed to be scared and broken enough to let Fili in at that moment. Of course, she doesn't know that Elrond isn't actually sending out guards looking for her, like she thinks. So, there's that. I could just get rid of the singing, but I'm one of those horrible people who likes song lyrics in fics, plus the singing is how Fili finds her. Deal with it, I guess. As to the actual kiss itself ….. :: fans self :: Did it get hot in here all of a sudden?