The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings one shots and Imagines Book II

The merchant - Part 10 - Tilda x Bard x Reader

She was relieved to be back in the stables; (Y/n) unsaddling Kaspier and giving him some fresh hay and water, before she poured some of the cold liquid into a bowl for herself. The road between Dale and the Mountain being far dustier than she had imagined, her skin feeling grimy, clogged with dirt. The half-elven making sure to close the stable doors, before taking off her shirt and then her hat so that she could wash.

Despite her being rather abrupt, the meeting with the dwarves had gone quite well; Dwalin seemingly surprising everyone when he suddenly announced that he liked her. His seal of approval appearing to be the thing that had made the king agree to his people forging the armour for the Dale forces. (Y/n) letting Thorin and Bard agree on a price, before Balin, who she made sure to apologise to for how she had spoken to him when they had first met, had led them back to the entrance of the Mountain. The old dwarf smiling at her, quite kindly, before she and the master of Dale, had taken their leave. The journey back to the city, proving as quiet as the one to the kingdom of the Durinfolk. Though Bard had chuckled at her, saying that she seemed to have a habit of making an impression on anyone she met; a comment that had even made her smile. (Y/n) quite sure that none of the dwarves that she had been introduced to that day, would forget her. Her father often telling her, himself, that she could create quite the ruckus wherever she went; though for some reason, she always seemed to get away with it. People still appearing to be quite charmed by her, even if she may come across a little brusque. He always putting it down to her elven side; noting that her mother had a similar effect. That there were times when he was sure that his wife could charm the birds from the trees. Not that (Y/n) liked the idea of it having anything to do with her mother; that any part of her was similar to the elleth that had abandoned her and her father. The peredhel brushing it off and telling her father that the only charming one, was him.........

Suddenly she turned around as she heard a gasp. (Y/n)'s eyes widening as she saw Tilda just standing there and looking at her, her mouth agog. It obvious that she had been to caught up in her own thoughts, to hear the little girl join her.

"Til............."

"You........you're an elf............" Tilda gasped again. (Y/n) remembering that she had taken off her hat so that she properly wash her face and neck, as well as pull a brush though her hair. The peredhel quickly grabbing for her shirt to cover her chest.

"Til................"

"Your ears......and your hair........its made of silver........." The little girl interrupted again, as she took a step forward. She wanting to reach out and touch it. To have the long, straight locks run through her fingers.

It wasn't the first time that someone had said something like that. Not the first time that there had been comments about her silver hair. When (Y/n) was younger, she had hated the shimmering, pale grey locks; always believing that it made her look like an old woman. That they made her appear ancient before her time. Yet her father would make sure to reassure her that it only made her more beautiful, more striking. That it was a gift from the Valar, to show what a true treasure he had been rewarded with as a daughter.

"Why did you say that you weren't an elf...........?" (Y/n) sighing at the question, as she pulled her shirt back over her head. She knowing that Tilda would not be going anywhere until she had an answer that sated her curiosity.

"Because.......because I am not a true elf; I am half-elf. As I told you, my father was a man of Gondor; it was my mother that was the elf. And........and she left me......left both of us, not long after I was born. She abandoned us; deserted her newborn daughter and ran away.........."

"Why did she do that............?" Bard's youngest child taking yet another step forward as she asked the question.

"I have no idea. Not even my father knew. And my anger towards her......well, I just don't like to think of myself as being part of her. She didn't want me, so why should I want her..........I have always just thought of myself as a human even though I have lived far longer than any human could........."

"How old are you.............?" The new question bringing Tilda to stand in front of her.

"I.........I am two thousand, four hundred and thirty-three years old.........." The answer causing the eyes of the girl to widen to the size of dinner plates.

"And I thought my father was old............" The comment causing the half-elf to let out an amused snort.

"Your father isn't old, Tilda. Personally, I would say that he is still quite in his prime and very handsome........." (Y/n) replied absentmindedly, as Tilda took a seat next to her on the bale of hay.

"He likes you too..........."

"What.............?" The peredhel turning to look at the girl.

"Father.......he likes you. He hasn't said anything properly, but he has been talking about you since you met. And he smiles.......a lot. Sigrid says that she hasn't seen him smile this much since our mother died. And when he got home, he was laughing about what you were like with the dwarves. He was so happy........" Tilda explained. The two just sitting there for a moment; (Y/n)'s thoughts drifting to Bard, before Tilda spoke again.

"We can keep it as our secret if you like...........I won't tell anyone what you are if you don't want me to. Well....not until you want to tell them; though I am sure that no one would mind you being half-elf, or that you are so old, especially not father........."

"Thank you, Tilda. I would appreciate that..........." (Y/n) replied, as she reached for her hat and pushed her long silver hair into it, before pulling it down over her ears.

"Though........." Tilda added, as she got to her feet.

"Though.........?"

"It would be nice if you would come for dinner. That is why I am here. Father sent me to ask you to join us; he thought you might be hungry..........." (Y/n) looking at the smile on the girl's lips. The peredhel sensing the slightest hit of Tilda using their little secret to her own advantage; but given that some more of Sigrid's food sounded better than the apples that she was planning to share with Kaspier...........

"Fine........lets go.........." The peredhel agreed, before getting to her feet. Tilda smiling broadly, before taking her hand and pulling her out of the stables.