So Far Away ✔

013

. . .

DÍS

. . .

Dís grumbled as she pressed a wet towel against the deep cut in her lower leg. The umpteenth trail of blood glided down, making the original color of the cloth unrecognizable.

Frustrated, she threw the towel to the other side of the room and heaved a deep sigh. She never realized it was so difficult to shave your legs. The lack of good razors in Imladris didn't help, since the elves didn't need them. In the dwarf cities Dís had never paid attention to it, but a few days ago she decided she didn't want to stand out anymore. She couldn't do much about her anything but slender built and her seize, but she had tried to smooth her hair and was wearing an elvish dress. It didn't feel very comfortable, although a fur collar was neither suited for this part of the world.

Smooth arms and legs had been the next step, but the knife she used did more harm than good.

Dís looked up when the door opened. In shock, Kíli stared at the wounds on her legs and he kept staring at them with a pale face.

"Kíli?"

The mentioning of his name seemed to shake him up. Suddenly, he turned around and ran away.

"Kíli!" Groaning because of her stiff limbs, she got up. She heard the front door slam shut and she knew she would never be able to catch up with him.

Frustrated, Dís raked her fingers through her hair. Some of the wounds were stinging and exhausted she sat down on the couch. Why did things never go as planned?

~

Dís had dozed off when the front opened again. She heaved a sigh when she saw Arwen's worried face. "I'm fine."

"You're fine?!" Arwen repeated in disbelief. "Kíli told me in panic you were cutting your own legs!"

Cursing herself, Dís closed her eyes. She could picture him running through the palace, screaming that his mother was hurting herself. If she had ever believed they would consider her as a normal inhabitant, that chance was ruined now.

"Kíli didn't give me the chance to explain myself. Where is he now?"

"He is with my father. He is worried about you."

Ashamed, she cast her glance down. Great. She wished the floor would swallow her. "What a misery."

A tear glided down her cheek.

"Ssh," Arwen hushed. The elf sat next to her on the couch and wrapped her arms around her. "What's going on, Dís?"

Dís didn't know what to say. That she felt so insecure about her appearance that she barely dared to look into the mirror? That she had a feeling that people were always staring at her? That it felt like everyone was making fun of her because her hair always looked wild, because she had quite the curves and because her legs were so hairy she could make a fur coat of it?

Arwen wouldn't understand. She was a beautiful elf; the only reason people were staring at her was because of her beauty, and not because she looked hideous.

Dís shrugged her shoulders. "I just want to have smooth legs, like you," she muttered. "That's all. Kili made a big deal out of it. I just lacked a good razor blade." Cautiously she looked aside, to Arwen who listened carefully.

"Why do you want smooth legs?"

"Because it's beautiful."

"Did it bother you in the past?"