Chapter 2: Home Is Where The Heart Is

Marilla spent the rest of the day doing her inventories swiftly. Her movement patterns through the caverns beneath the Woodland Realm were rote memory. She gritted her teeth in frustration, speeding through her list. Twice a week! Daily reports! What kind of petty tyrant was this Elf she was supposed to call her King? She schemed over how to meet this 'Thorin' while she looked through casks of wine and barrels of flour.

She knew where the prison cells were. She'd delivered goods to the guards there on occasion when they were occupied. But she had no excuse to go there now – it wasn't anywhere near her normal route. She butted up against obstacles no matter how hard she thought.

Finally, after delivering her final report to the kitchens, Marilla headed home with dinner for herself and her mother tucked in a basket, as it always was. They were never invited to dine with the other Elves. Marilla's mother dismissed it with forceful cheeriness as she did all the slights they suffered, claiming they were lucky to eat their food hot and fresh and to be excused from long, boring nights of windy poetry.

Marilla knew it was a lie. She heard a lot, as an invisible person. Some Elves shook their heads in sad dismay when they spoke of Helluin – such a beauty, the life of the party in another age, such a shame she would fall for such an unfortunate creature. Others had nothing but thinly-veiled contempt for her mother for consummating such a match.

"I would have gone into the West before succumbing to such a curse," she had heard one Elf mutter to another. Marilla felt terrible, knowing what her life had cost her mother, and what it was costing her still.

Marilla approached the room that she shared with her mother, preparing herself to smile and say something chipper. She couldn't bring herself to complain to her mother about the mean things the Elves did to her. Helluin had already lost everything – the life she'd once known, the love of her life – and she lived in a deep cavern now, far from the light she so loved, being the Wood Elf that she was. Marilla had caught her so many times, leaning back to look up the one long chute that tunneled up through the stone above them to let the air in. Helluin would peer up for hours during the nights she did not feel the need to sleep, keeping quiet so Marilla could rest, while she gazed longingly, hoping for a glimpse of a passing star.

As Marilla got closer, she heard a voice coming from her home that wasn't her mother's. It sounded like another Elf lady to Marilla. She inched along the corridor, feeling curious. No one talked to Helluin anymore! Thranduil couldn't banish her, for he'd promised his wife, who had been a childhood friend of Helluin's. But he'd made it plain to everyone that he was disgusted with Helluin and she was a persona non grata , to be ignored at best. No one else wanted to receive his ire…

"… I hope it isn't rude to ask," Marilla heard the voice say. "They just aren't what I expected, with everything everyone says about Dwarves."

"It never used to be this way, you know. The Dwarves and Elves worked together many times. You should have seen Menegroth, Tauriel. You are too young, I know, but it was a marvel," Helluin's voice replied.

"I could never imagine …" Tauriel said, her voice trailing off.

"How I could find myself in love with a Dwarf?" Helluin asked. To Marilla it sounded as though she were indulging Tauriel. She wondered if her mother found these questions offensive, after the way she'd been treated.

"Well, yes," Tauriel said, sounding sheepish.

"My Aritur was a valiant person. He was brave and he made me laugh when the Elves only indulged in endless melancholy over sorrows long past. Speak with this Kíli some more if you are curious, but hold on to your heart, Tauriel, unless you are willing to pay dearly for the privilege of loving freely, and unless you are ready to face the bitterness of mortality," Helluin said.

Her voice was sadder than Marilla ever heard it when her mother spoke to her. She knew her mother tried so hard to keep this pain from her. It made her so sad.

"I – thank you for speaking to me. I should really go," Tauriel said, sounding confused.

Marilla went back the way she came, hiding herself around a corner and waiting for Tauriel to come her way. She'd just thought of something – something brilliant.

"Hey!" she said, stepping forward suddenly when Tauriel came around the corner. "Shh," Marilla cautioned her when the red-haired Elf let out a startled gasp.

"You surprised me!" Tauriel said warily, a hand still gripping her knife handle.

"I heard you speaking with my mother," Marilla said, trying to keep her voice neutral for now. She'd try the carrot first – stick later, if need be. "You have been kind to me from time to time. You feel badly for us, don't you?"

Tauriel looked at Marilla, guilt passing over her face. "I need to go, Marilla," she said, but it sounded feeble.

"I want to speak with the Dwarf that's in the cells – Thorin. I know the King doesn't want me to but, please, Tauriel. You're a captain of the guard. It sounds like you might want to speak with this Kíli yourself. Give yourself a watch alone and let me just talk to him. They're my kin, too. And I've never even met a Dwarf who wasn't dead before I could remember more than a few fuzzy visions!" Marilla whispered, glancing down the corridor nervously.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Tauriel said, eyes darting to the far end of the hall after Marilla's. "Who knows what he'd do if he caught you?" she said. They knew who 'he' was.

"That's my problem," Marilla said. She wasn't sure if threatening to expose Tauriel's interest in this 'Kíli' would just antagonize her. "I should probably go anyway. It's clear that no one wants me here," she said instead.

Now Tauriel looked sad. "This is your home. You've lived here your whole life," she said.

"Some home," Marilla hissed. "I want to talk to Thorin. Maybe there's another way for me. How will I ever know if I can't even speak to a Dwarf?"

Tauriel looked into the younger lady's eyes and saw all the hurt and hopelessness that had accumulated there and felt her resolve crumble.

"Alright. It's risky, Marilla, but it's up to you. I have the watch alone the day after tomorrow, from midnight until dawn. If you come, I'll show you where Thorin is and you can speak with him," Tauriel whispered. "I have to go now," she added, and sprinted quietly down the hall.

"Yes!" Marilla said, forcing herself to say it quietly. She thumped a fist against the stone in triumph. Yes .

Marilla took a deep breath to calm herself down and hurried back towards her mother. Their food was cooling swiftly in the basket, and she had a show to put on. At least it would be easier now – she really did have something to be happy about.

(~ooo~)

Marilla walked into the home she shared with Helluin, hoping she was looking casual and unrushed.

"Hello Naneth," she said brightly. "Did you have a nice day today?"

"Marilla, my darling!" Helluin said, looking up from the portrait she'd been holding in her hands. She brushed a silvery blond strand off her face. They both pretended she hadn't brushed away a touch of wetness beneath her eyes at the same time. "I was just thinking about how proud of you your father would be," the Elf said, reaching out her arms for her daughter.

Marilla accepted that invitation without having to pretend anything. Naneth was the only bright spot in this place, in her opinion. She'd do anything for her mother. Marilla hugged Helluin tightly, the way she'd always said her father did, not like the limp hugs the Elves might offer. She looked over her mother's shoulder at their cavern.

Marilla had taken the plain, raw stone of their walls and made something spectacular out of it. Every hunk of quartz or mica she found, she gathered and embedded in the walls of their home, until a single lamp could make the entire space shine like the starlit night sky that Helluin missed so much. Marilla's hand-carved leaf motif ran all the way around the edge of the room and over the door lintel. You could tell which end she'd started on, when she was just starting out and her leaves were blocky and symmetrical (or she'd meant them to be), and which end she'd finished with, where her leaves were intricate and Elfin. She had planned to go back to the beginning and fix them, but her mother wouldn't let her.

"It's like watching you grow up," Helluin had told her daughter, looking over the girl with sparkling gray eyes filled with adoration. "Leave it, please." So Marilla had.

"My precious girl," Helluin said, giving Marilla an extra squeeze. "Let's set up the table and see what those old windbags upstairs are having for dinner tonight, shall we? Then you can tell me all about your day."

"Yes, Naneth, that sounds lovely," Marilla said, stepping back as her mother stood until she had to look down at her daughter, who only stood as high as Helluin's shoulders.

Marilla had already thought of a few things she could act excited about for her mother, and a few things she'd make sure never to say. It was tempting to say she was making friends with Tauriel, but she wanted her mother as far as possible from this thing she was about to risk in speaking with the Dwarf Thorin. Helluin had suffered enough for Marilla – Marilla would not let another tear fall for her sake if she could manage it.