Do you like my new profile pic, my lovelies? I drew it myself. If you're interested, I'm on Instagram. The nick is kkolmakov. Just as always :D I mostly post my cats and drawings of Thorin and Wren in all of their shapes and forms. You can also follow my Facebook Katya Kolmakov - Author for news and updates on my writing.
And now to Middle Earth!
Love,
K. xx
"You seem quite enthused to study today, Master Eorwyn," Master Svuir drew out from his tall armchair.
Eorwyn lifted her eyes from the scroll she was industriously filling with calculations.
"Do you imply I'm generally distracted?" she jested before she could bite her tongue.
The old Dwarf gave her a long studying look, and she shrunk in her chair.
"You are distracted just like every student I've ever had. It's been almost two hundred years, and all I've seen in them was interests most trifle: dancing, and Games, and of course matrimony." The list had been pronounced in such a venomous tone as if Master Svuir was naming contagious diseases. "You, thankfully, have shown a minuscule degree of diligence, but I've always assumed it was due to the fact that you aren't accepted in Erebor and in those fisherman villages." He gave a lazy wave of his pale, bony hand towards the wall looking out to the Lake. "So all you had was my classes. And then you disappeared, and then you grew in rank, and now you're an emissary. I expected you to be solely preoccupied with your favourable position in the town of your kind."
Eorwyn put down her quill and pretended to be busy with sanding her writing.
"And yet here you are. Swallowing my lessons like a hungry apprentice hoping to find a position in the Mountain. Have your prospects in Dale come to ruin?"
Eorwyn gawked at him.
"Pardon?"
"Since a favourable marriage has never been in the books for you, I expected you'd be at least successful in your vocation in Dale. Was I wrong to assume that? Has your position in Dale changed?"
It took Eorwyn a few seconds to gather her thoughts.
"Are you— Are you worried for me?" She couldn't believe it!
"I just wish to know what your intentions are." The Dwarf's face remained disdainful.
"My intentions?" Eorwyn repeated since there was nothing better to say.
The Dwarf sighed in apparent exasperation.
"If you have no position in the towns of Men, I have an offer for you." He looked up and aside, as if not at all interested in what she had to answer. "The Kingdom of the Blue Mountains is in need of the Auditor of the Court of Exchequer."
A pause hung in the air, and Eorwyn realised she held her breath.
After a few seconds, when saying nothing became simply rude, Eorwyn exhaled, "Me?"
"Obviously. I am already occupying a similar position," the Dwarf grumbled and sighed again. "I see you need time to catch up."
"I— I— I most definitely do." Eorwyn pressed her hand to her forehead. "The Auditor of the Court of— Maiar help me."
"You're making me doubt my choice, Master Eorwyn. Clearly, you don't have the mental capacity to comprehend even the offer. How will you fulfill the responsibilities?"
The Dwarf roughly opened the volume in front of him, and the front board landed on his desk with a thud. Eorwyn jumped up.
"I'm just an apprentice..." she whispered.
"Aye, you are," he said and lowered his eyes to the book.
"I haven't yet— I haven't completed my lessons with you!"
"You never will. I have too much to teach," he grumbled, seemingly preoccupied with reading.
"Then why?!" Eorwyn flailed her hands in the air.
He didn't dignify her squeak with an answer.
"I'm of Men! They will never accept me in the Blue Mountains!"
The Dwarf continued to read. Suddenly, Eorwyn saw red.
"Master Svuir, you're being unnecessarily cruel!" she exclaimed.
He looked up in surprise. She'd never stood up for herself thusly, after all - to say nothing of raising her voice.
"You're tormenting me, making an offer that you know I consider the greatest honour! You know that any person of numbers could only dream of that position! And you know I could never—"
"I have sent a letter to Lady Sigga, the Purveyor of the Line of Durin in Ered Lindon. As the King's Steward, she appoints all high officials in the dwelling. She has accepted your candidacy."
"Oh Maiar," Eorwyn gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.
"You can say no, stay here, or go back to your people. The choice is yours. Either way, you still have to finish at least two moons of my lessons." The Dwarf pointed at the volume opened in front of Eorwyn. "Go back to your calculations."
Eorwyn closed her mouth and huffed some air noisily.
"I— I will not!"
The Dwarf's bushy eyebrows jumped up.
"I can't simply go back to the calculations! I need to— I need to think!"
Eorwyn jumped to her feet and started shoving her possessions into her bag.
"You'll have to excuse me, Master Svuir. I need to— to think— Maiar help me, I don't know what I think!"
She glanced in his face, and it seemed to her she could see a smile hiding in the corners of his mouth.
"I don't know if I should kiss you, because you've given me the biggest gift I could wish for - or I should yell and stomp because— it's just not how it's done! And—" Her breathing caught, and she once again flailed, this time swinging her bag in the air.
"Please, refrain from both," the Dwarf said calmly. "Go to your rooms and consider the offer. I'm expecting you tomorrow at the eighth bell."
"Tomorrow I'm at the Games with the King," she said, and her bag fell out of her hand on the floor. Her quills and papers scattered. "Oh, the King..."
"Then after the midday meal. You have five scrolls to work on, and you are clearly incapable of finishing your work today."
"I am incapable." Eorwyn shook her head frantically, knelt, and started picking up her belongings.
And then she got up, rushed ahead, and grabbed the Dwarf's hand. She dared not to do anything else. She squeezed his fingers.
"You do know what an honour it is! You do, don't you?! How much I appreciate it, and that you trusted me with it, and that—" A sob bubbled in her throat, but she took it under control. "Please, believe me, I simply can't express how honoured I am!"
"You can start by releasing my—" he started, and then paused, and a small smile brushed at his lips. His cool palm covered her hand on his. "I think you will manage just fine."
Eorwyn had no words, and she squeezed his hand again and then stepped back.
Only when her hand lay on the gate to the Apprentice Halls, she realised that her legs had carried her to the chambers she was occupying no more. The day before all her belongings had been moved to apartments in the Northern Passage of the Lower Halls.
She stood, and all she could feel was her chest rise and drop in short breaths. Her thoughts swirled, and it felt as if her mind struggled against her current situation. The offer of Master Svuir was a matter so large and so overwhelming that she simply couldn't even start considering it. Or perhaps, she didn't want to.
"Eorwyn!" a familiar voice rang from the passage behind her.
"Birna, good day," Eorwyn muttered and forced a smile.
Birna was a junior apprentice in the meadmaker guild. She was Nis' distant relation.
"I haven't seen you in ages. How have you been?" the maiden asked in a joyful voice.
They chatted for a bit, and as much as Eorwyn was usually uncomfortable when having small talk, the respite was most welcome. They discussed a few mutual acquaintances, and Birna said her goodbyes and left for her classes. Eorwyn leaned her back against the wall.
Her usual manner of dealing with preoccupations and an emotional turmoil would be to hide under a blanket, curl in a ball, and let her mind mull over - and over, and over - whatever bothered her. And then she imagined sitting down alone in her new chamber, so much bigger and more luxurious than any dwelling she'd ever occupied, and to finally let the gravity of what had happened today to sink in - and she shuddered and straightened up.
She could go to the King and tell him - but she knew what he'd say. He would probably congratulate her, with the offer, with the honour, and with 'charming the old devil' and with convincing him that she deserved the position. More so, he probably would say he 'never doubted her' - and then say that it was a pity that she couldn't accept.
She couldn't, could she? She indeed had no future in the town of Men, but it was no accident and it was by her own volition. She had quite different responsibilities in front of her.
And then she suddenly imagined it: sitting in her own study, in the Blue Mountains, in a chair like Master Svuir's, numbers and books and scrolls - and not a worry in the world. No one to convince she deserved her position, no one to tell her the King could have chosen so much better, that her only value was that the King had had the misfortune to lose his sense and bring her onto the throne of Erebor.
She'd work day and night with weights and measures. There would be tradesmen and merchants, contracts and treaties - everything she ever wanted and loved in her life. Everything she had ever wanted and loved - until she met the King Under the Mountain.
Everything she would have to give up - although, hopefully not completely - when she became his wife.
