Mela- Love

Lye naa lle nai- We are yours to command.

Chapter 3: Winning the Fair Hearts

Fornbogi downed his glass of frothy ale as the music around him erupted. All around him was merry, food and several barrels of home made Dwarven Ale. The four remaining male Dwarfs were certainly enjoying themselves. Around noon the festivities winded down and the ladies went back to their normal life, Fornbogi took advantage of the stillness and approached Ingi, "Greetings my fair lady." Ingi replied shyly, "Why hello my brethren." Fornbogi asked, "I have a question to impose upon you." Ingi got serious, "Okay continue." Fornbogi asked, "Slóp wishes you to come live with us at Khazad-dûm and reproduce our race to what it once was." Ingi's face drained here lively color as she answered, "Well Fornbogi that isn't as easy as it sounds. You must win my heart in order for us to return with you, we will hold a Mela. But you must win my heart none of the others may."

The whole populace of Dimrill Dale stood upon the plateau tucked away in the Misty Mountains, glaring at the four Dwarves dressed in only leather pants, no shirt. The crowd silenced as Ingi explained the first contest, "This first competition is called the Woodcutter. You must hew a whole tree and hew clean logs; the first one with six logs wins the first of three contests."

Ingi let out a piercing whistle and the contestants were off. Fornbogi hewed the first tree and began chipping the bark, slowly shaping the logs. Darri also was already carving his logs, but Galarr and Jari were slower on the first stage. The contest was now between Jari and Fornbogi. It was a race to place the logs at Ingi's feet. Sweat drenched Fornbogi as his miniature legs pumped like a piston. Jari was four fifteen feet away when his foot got caught on a root and he fumbled forwards. Fornbogi finished the race and won.

"Now this is a simple foot race. From here to that yew tree over yonder, on my whistle." She let out the signal and the Dwarves were off. Galarr was in front as his legs supplied his speed. Then came Dari, then Fornbogi, and in last was Jari. Fornbogi passed Dari and was on Galarr's tail when the mystic enchanter had a burst of speed. He finished the race.

Now it was between Galarr and Fornbogi a championship for her heart. Ingi informed the Dwarves, "This last contest is a fight, between the two last contestants, no weapons or armor just skin on skin."

Fornbogi glared at Galarr as they circled each other. Galarr struck first with a haymaker. Fornbogi sidestepped the punch and countered with an elbow the rib cage. This blow rattled Galarr but he quickly regained his composure. So the fight continued for fifteen minutes when there was a winner declared. That winner was Fornbogi.

"So you have my heart, strong one my people will now follow you through peril or joy lye naa lle nai!" Fornbogi smiled as he descended the ladder into the earth to gather supplies. The convoy packed the necessities such as food and water. And so set off the four Dwarves along with nine hundred female Dwarves.

The first day was a slow day for their caravan was fairly large to be traveling a mountain, so it took around five hours to descend to the foot of the mountain. Then they came upon the perilous river Celebrant. This river pained each male Dwarf heart for the loss of Felix. Fornbogi and Galarr went across first and left Dari and Jari to help guide the women across. It went smoothly; no women were lost the only injuries sustained were the fear gained of that river. The sun descended behind the mountains, so ended day one.

Slow was the journey but eventually they reached Moria, it took them one week to move that seemingly short distance. Once the Dwarven convoy reached Khazad-dûm the men of Moria instantly picked out a bride and over the years reproduced Moria into a grand city once again.