Chapter Seven: The Lonely Mountain

"Gimli, my boy!" Gloin greeted his son with a great hug. Gimli welcomed his father warmly.

"Welcome home, Father!" He helped Gloin with his pony and started to unpack his things. Then he saw Bilbo and Mélanyë approaching. He froze. 'Jolonna,*' he whispered. As she neared, however, he saw that it was not her and quickly turned to his task before anyone saw the mist in his eyes. Gloin had seen it though, and leaned in close to his son.

"She is from Rivendell, my son, and one of Bilbo's kin." He caught his son's gaze and held it. "You will show her every courtesy." Gimli wrenched his eyes away and stalked off with his father's things, muttering to himself. Just then Mélanyë walked up behind Gloin.

"What was that all about? Is he upset?" Her soft voice indeed reminded the old dwarf of fair Jolonna and he found himself blinking back tears of his own. He squinted at her and forced a smile.

"Oh, don't worry about him. Gimli's just...not very fond of elves." Mélanyë frowned. She had forgotten that some dwarves and elves still had great hatred for each other. She had grown accustomed to the kind dwarves she'd been travelling with, but realized that these new dwarves didn't know her. She looked back to where Gimli had gone and felt suddenly lost and alone. Then, in the back of her mind, a memory stirred. Gimli, she thought, I know that name...I've heard it before...

"The Lonely Mountain!" Bilbo exclaimed. "And to think, we used to fear these gates!" She smiled at him, but looked again to where Gimli had gone, trying desperately to remember why his name was so familiar. She forced herself to get back to unloading the ponies, however, and put off the thought for another time.

The ponies were led to a stable just inside the front door, and the travellers followed Dwalin inside the mountain. The walls were decorated with gold and silver and all sorts of gems, displaying the wealth of the King in great splendor. Every crevice glimmered and shone as they passed and many great caverns opened off to each side of the huge hallway into other parts of the underground city. Mélanyë was in awe of the beauty of the architecture, and as they travelled deeper, Ferar explained where each hall went, what each room was, and the history behind them. Bilbo walked in silence, but she saw plainly on his face the same wonder and amazement that she herself felt.

At last they entered a great hall in what she guessed was the center of the mountain. Rooms and hallways beyond count fed into it and the whole cavern was buzzing with dwarves going about their daily business. There were merchants and smithies and craftsmen working their trades, and families bustling around each of them, haggling over prices and chasing after lost children. Dwalin smiled at the display, and Bilbo's jaw dropped.

"Remember when we had fled through here from Smaug?" he asked the hobbit. Bilbo nodded.

"Oh, Dwalin, it's amazing! I hardly recognize it as the same place! You dwarves have certainly been busy these past years!" They all stood, admiring the scene before them until Dwalin finally broke the mood.

"Come, my friends!" he said, motioning to another tunnel to their right, "I will show you to your rooms!" He led the two hobbits down the new passage, as the other dwarves wandered off to find their families. Ferar caught Mélanyë's arm before he left.

"I'll find you two later at the feast tonight," he said. Mélanyë nodded, too excited to be disappointed at his leaving.

Dwalin led the two to a room at the end of a winding tunnel. It was a very large room with two beds carved into the walls in the same manner as they had seen in Mirkwood. Mélanyë was not surprised, as Ferar had already explained that the Elf King's halls had been built by dwarves long ago. Dwalin let them settle in, and then took them on a very long, very thorough tour of the mountain. He showed them every little thing the dwarves had done to bring the mountain halls back to their past glory, and in many cases, exceeded the original craftsmanship. All the walls were carved and inlaid with gold and silver and precious gems that glittered in the torchlight. Large rooms with ceilings so high as to be almost out of sight, huge pillars the size of trees, and almost every wall was engraved with runes describing the great toil in bringing the halls back from ruin.

When the time came for the feast, they had seen only a small portion of the many halls and rooms. They were at last lead into the most ornate halls in the whole mountain, the ones belonging to Dain the King. The wealth shown on the walls and displayed on various pedestals and wall hangings was astounding. The hobbits barely spoke, they were too engrossed in simply looking around and absorbing the sights around them.

Dain sat on his throne of stone inlaid with gold and gems, and rose when the two were led before him. He was a kindly dwarf, young, but flecks of grey were beginning to streak his thick black beard.

"Ah, at last!" he said in a gruff voice. "You must be Bilbo. Welcome to my halls!" He looked to Mélanyë. "But who is this?" he said.

"This is Mélanyë, one of my kin," said Bilbo. "I invited her to come with me to see your city." Dain laughed heartily.

"And what do you think of it, young elf?" he said. "Yes, indeed I see you are an elf, but don't worry," he stepped down from the dais and stood in front of her. They were nearly the same height. "I have been a friend of Thranduil's for many years." He looked her over. "You don't look like one of his folk."

"I am from Rivendell, my lord," she said. He nodded.

"Ah! The realm of Master Elrond. Indeed, you are welcome here!" He leaned in until they were eye to eye. "And if anyone gives you trouble, just send them to me!" He chuckled and climbed back up on his throne.

"Well," he said sharply, "there will be much feasting tonight! Come my friends, let us go to my halls!" With that they were whisked away and brought into a grand hall filled with dwarves. It seemed that the feast had already begun, and Mélanyë saw, with some apprehension, many different meats spread out on the tables along with other, more palatable foods. There was loud music and much laughing and talking.

The hobbits were greeted warmly by the throng and a loud cheer rose at the arrival of the King. There was another throne in this room, but it didn't get used. Dain mingled with the others and ate and drank as heartily as any other dwarf. Mélanyë felt a whole new kind of excitement at the atmosphere. The party in the elven kingdom was merry indeed, but a party among dwarves was something different altogether. Several great fires lit the halls and the gold and copper trimmings on the walls shone all around. The rock walls seemed to dance with jewels and they dazzled her eyes.

She was suddenly caught up in a group of dwarves whom, she guessed, were women. They were dancing in a great circle that had expanded so far that she was now in the middle of them. Not quite sure what to do, Mélanyë tried to mimic the others' movements as best she could, until finally she was dancing with them and even singing along with the music, though she didn't speak a word of Dwarvish. When the song ended, the circle broke up and many of the women clapped or hugged. The one closest to Mélanyë hugged her and thanked her for joining the group. Still caught up in the excitement, all she could do was smile and shake the woman's hands.

A hand grasped her arm and she turned. "Ferar!" she cried over the music that had since started up again.

"Are you having fun, Mel?" he asked. She paused and felt her smile fade. Mel, she thought, Lindir calls me Mel. She suddenly missed him again. She noticed Ferar staring at her and forced the smile back on her face.

"Yes, this is all very exciting," she said, looking around them at the crowded room. She realized that she'd lost Bilbo in all the dancing and began to search for him.

"He's over at the table in the middle," Ferar said, pointing, "getting some food." She smiled, thinking that very hobbitish of him. Ferar took her hand and lead her through the crowd to her uncle. He smiled as she approached.

"Ah, Mélanyë!" he said. "The food here is excellent! You really should try the-" he stopped himself and grimaced, "bacon. That's right, you don't eat meat, do you?" She smiled and shook her head.

Her gaze was drawn to a corner of the room where she saw a rather forlorn dwarf sitting alone. It was Gimli. As she looked to him she saw that he'd been staring at her, but then quickly averted his eyes and stared into his ale. She told Bilbo she was going to find some food and made her way over to the dwarf.

He looked up as she approached and quickly looked away, sliding further into his seat away from her. She put stretched out hand in friendship.

"Gimli," she said. He looked up, but wouldn't meet her eyes. "Her name was Jolonna, wasn't it?" This time he did meet her eyes. He looked surprised, and maybe a bit frightened.

"How did you-" he began as she sat down across from him.

"We were friends," she said. "I was very young at the time, but we were friends. I remember-" she looked down at her hands. "When they brought her...She kept calling for you." She met his eyes again. "I was trying to remember how I knew your name. She spoke often of you before she-" Mélanyë fell silent, leaving the sentence unfinished. A long silence stretched between them. Mel got up to leave, but Gimli covered her hand with his.

"Please stay," he said. She sat back down and they sat together in silence for a little while longer. "Did she suffer?" he asked finally, his voice breaking.

"No," she said. "Elvish medicine is- no, she didn't." More silence.

"I never told anyone about her," he said finally. "Except my father, of course, but," he met her eyes again. "It's nice to have someone to talk to." She could see a thin tracing of tears on his cheeks and felt her heart break. She placed her other hand on his.

"Gimli, I'm sorry," she whispered. They talked for hours, Gimli telling her of Jolonna and how Balin was to wed her, and how he fell in love with her instead. She listened with quiet sympathy, comforting him as best she could. The party was still going on around them, but they didn't seem to notice. They were still sitting together when the music died down and most of the families had gone home. Bilbo came over after a while and said he was going back to their room.

"Are you coming?" he asked, "It's not easy to find your way back in these tunnels."

"I'll take her back," said Gimli. "If you want to stay, that is."

"Thank you, Gimli," she said, smiling. "I'll see you later, Bilbo." The two hobbits hugged, and then he left with Ferar. After they watched them go, they got up to get some of what was left of the food and sat back down.

"You're only half an elf too?" he said. She nodded, nibbling on a pastry.

"My father was a hobbit. Jolonna and I became friends because we both felt like outsiders...like we didn't really belong with the elves." She saw his sympathetic expression and quickly clarified. "We were welcome, of course. It's just that we weren't elves. We're half...different, but still a part of them." Gimli nodded.

"Like she was a dwarf, but always an elf as well."

"Yes, exactly!" She started on a strawberry. "I only knew her for a few months. We met just before she left to see you. I was sad to see her go."

"Me too," Gimli said softly.

After they'd finished their food, they called it a night. They began walking towards the tunnels that led to her room, but he stopped.

"Wait! I want you to wait right here," he said suddenly. She was a little surprised, but said she would wait. He dashed off down a tunnel, and reappeared a few minutes later. In his large hand, he produced a small silver ring. She looked at it, and then back at him.

"Take it," he said. She picked it up, and looked at it in wonder. It was polished silver, with a sparkling amethyst set between two leaves. "I was saving it for her," he said as she watched the gem sparkle. "It was part of the original treasure that my father received from Smaug's horde. It's far too delicate for any dwarf to wear, so I thought it should go to an elf."

"Oh Gimli," she whispered. "I can't take this, it's..." He closed her hand around the small ring.

"I want you to take it. It's the closest I'll have to giving it to her." Unable to contain herself any longer, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly. He hugged her back, and she thought she heard him sniffling. He let her go and led her down the halls to her room.

* Jolonna borrowed from Samwisegirl's A Long Lost Love (can be found on my website)