A short but necessary chapter.
Happy reading :)
Chapter 5
*Mistlynn*
Her mind was a whirlwind of emotional chaos as she walked alongside Balin, slowly rubbing her wrists in attempt to relieve the lingering pain of her bonds he had gently removed.
The White Kingdom has never needed to be in one place for longer than a season. They moved with the weather to always have sustenance to grow. Mistlynn could not fathom living one's life in one place; Never moving and living within the same walls around her day in and day out.
Her pace was slow and cautious through the golden laid passages of what Balin called the Hall of Kings. She could feel the energy of the centuries of lives that had lived in these halls. She had never seen such grandeur in all her life; nor a room so gorgeous and ancient filled with so much history, sadness and love. So much destruction and rebirth chronicled in vivid detail. She never knew such knowledge and opulence existed. She was so lost in her rampaging thoughts she failed to realize Balin had ceased talking. His gaze looking upon her expectantly, white bushy eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"I'm sorry. Did you ask me a question?" She stammered, trying to feign a look of indifference. Very unconvincingly it would seem.
Balin blinked, hiding his smirk. "I apologize my dear, but you seem to be … a little overwhelmed."
"It's hard not to be standing in such a room as this."
He watched her as though she was gliding across the gilded floor towards the vastly impressive statue of Thrain I, Thorin's great grandfather who had led Durin's folk from the overtaken halls of Moria by the Balrog. The sheer raw power of the lifelike stone looking upon her conveyed a sense of unease, as though this proud Dwarf King looked down at her judging her naivety. She looked away, trying to hide the feelings of being minuscule and unworthy.
Just then a portrait caught her eye, the rich colors of the paint were breathtakingly realistic. The couple in the portrait flanked with their three children looked so stoic and regal. The woman sat in an ornate chair of gilded woodwork on a lush navy cushion. She was adorned in a breathtakingly beautiful gown of cornflower blue and white silken layers that were beautifully enhanced by silver embroidery and precious stones. What could be seen as gaudy seemed to be perfection in its execution. A graceful diadem was elegantly interlaced in a wave of luscious golden curls and braids of hair. The stately man stood behind her, his hand placed lovingly upon her shoulder. His striking attire was as black as a raven's wing with deep midnight blue, making his bright vivid blue eyes all the more striking, as if they were glowing. The thick hair and beard peppered with black and silvery grey waves added to his look of distinguished stoicism. A darling young girl with shining black curls and sweet smile looked as though she had been cut from the same cloth as the woman. Her matching frock shimmered as though she was floating happily upon her mother's lap.
The younger boy favored his mother's coloring of golden locks and exuded a sunny disposition even thru this painting. The older boy was a younger replica of the man both in appearance and temperament. But the eyes of this boy though matching the prominent blue of his fathers, seemed different; pensive yet caring. They immediately drew Mistlynn in pulling her slowly closer. There was a resemblance in his eyes she couldn't place. All three children shared the remarkable blue eyes of their father, but the older son's eyes called to her in a familiar way.
Balin walked up alongside her silently. His eyes twinkling. "Beautiful, isn't it? This rendition is one of my favorites. Thorin always favored his father in appearance, but he was always his mother's kindred spirit."
She turned abruptly to Balin in surprise. He nodded towards her with a kind smile on his face. "When Erebor fell to the dragon Smaug, we lost not only thousands of our kin, but Thorin suffered the loss of both his dear mother and grandmother. He led our people to safety while his grandfather and father struggled between their grief and dragon sickness." Mistlynn tried not to show her confusion at the words as she had never heard of dragon sickness before "He worked in the cities of man as a blacksmith to help clothe and feed what was left of our women and children. Then, the Battle of Azanulbizar came with a steep price for our people. Azog the Defiler beheaded his grandfather, Thror, in front of him. His younger brother Frerin and many of our kin were lost to the wretched orcs that day. His father Thrain was driven so mad with grief he disappeared. We were never able to find him. Sorrowfully, we learned too late he was captured and tortured for years by Azog in the dungeons of Dol Guldur." Balin took a deep breath, steadying the emotion that started to make his strong voice waiver Mistlynn noticed a hint of tears welling behind his eyes before blinking them away covering the sadness with a halfhearted smile thru his snow-white beard.
Mistlynn blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the tears she felt gathering up behind her eyes.
"So much pain, loss and most of all; death. He's never been the same since the death of his family. Becoming a leader at fifty and three was so much to carry on his young shoulders, he has held his own better than I could have ever imagined though and has made the safety and prosperity of our people more important that of himself."
She swallowed thickly, feeling the shame flush through her body at an alarming rate. The words she had so evilly spit at Thorin coming back in waves causing her breathing to hitch and the desire to retch upon the gilded floors to become ever so strong.
"I find it curious that you are not familiar with our history. It is well known throughout our race." Balin commented, as he studied her face.
Mistlynn twisted her hands with an anxious energy, trying all she could to hide the sadness and guilt upon her face. "I had no idea of your people's history, or that of any others outside of the White Kingdoms. I am finding I know nothing of Arda's and feel as though the little we all have been told, as to why we should never leave our lands may have been for reasons that now no longer exist."
Balin looks upon her in silence hoping to not spook her and allow her to keep speaking.
Mistlynn takes a deep breath not knowing why but feeling as though she is safe in asking her queries with Balin "Do you know the story of Belegost?"
Balin arched an eyebrow. "We didn't even realize your people existed until you were brought here. We have all been told of the tragic tale of Belegost falling into the sea with all of Beleriand. Stories have circulated, of course, amongst travelers and tradesmen of strange beings riding Dire Wolves and wearing strange attire but that has always been dismissed as mistaken identities or tall tales spun from tales of old. We believed only those that made it to Moria survived."
"I was never told that any made it to Moria, Master Balin. However, it was by design that you did not know we existed." She murmured, her eyes landing back on the portrait of young Thorin and his family. "We didn't want our existence to be known as fact, but rather as legend. So that we may be left to live our lives in peace. No judgement. No war. No greed."
Balin steadied himself, taking a deep breath as he tried to figure out what he should ask or say next. "My dear, would you care to explain why your people felt the need to hide from their own kind? Could it possibly be because of your lineage being intertwined now with that of the Elves?"
"You heard my disagreement with your King earlier, I take it?" Balin nodded with a Half smile.
"I cannot betray the secrets of my people. Surely you must understand that, but I will admit that there has not been a pure elf leader for generations." Shocked with herself that she spoke the words she had Mistlynn withdrew her eyes from upon his face. Balin, noticing the apprehension in her answer and chose to no longer ask and save his questions for another time.
"I understand. Perhaps we can revisit this topic once we have gotten to know each other better." He said with a kind, peaceful smile.
Silence hung in the air for a long while before Mistlynn asked a question that had been plaguing her mind amongst all the other issues of the day.
"May I ask a favor of your kind sir?" Balin raised his eyebrow "Within reason my lady, I will grant any wish that is within my power."
"My Dire-Wolf Luna has been taken from me. I would like her back."
