Oh Daughter Dear

Feast, Feast We Shall

"Well Gailthîr from Eregion, we have not seen anyone from that city in weeks. Whatever is wrong there?" The older dwarf asks quietly.

"My Ada is betrayed, our home is a prison, Sauron has a hold."

"Wait," the older dwarf gasps. "You are related to Celebrimbor? How is the silver hand?"

I try not to wipe my eyes as they water. "I-I do not know. I left a week ago. What are your names?"

"Ah, you would like to know who we are?" I could see the kind twinkle in his eyes. "I am Azanturg. This is my son, Gabilkibil."

I chuckle. "Your name has quite a ring to it. My mother's is Kalaina, so I guess we all have interesting names in our languages."

Then I remember my family and my smile fades. "I must get to Forlindon, Aran Gil-galad must have this." I hold out the ring on my finger.

"My, that is marvelous work..." Breathed Azanturg as he gazed at the ring. "Your father's, no doubt. He is always good at this sort of thing."

"I know!" I shiver and jump with excitement. "My Ada taught me everything I know! I helped make this circlet, you know?" I brought my hand up to my hair, only to realize that I had forgotten it in my quarters in Eregion. Sadness swamped me. "I must get to Lindon immediately. I must warn Aran Gil-Galad."

"Do you want us to lead you there?" The younger dwarf, Gabilkibil, I think, spoke. "My father and I were going to go to there for trading later this week anyways."

"We cannot tary! My family, my baby sister suffers the longer we wait." I am close to tears, and Azanturg looks concerned, his eyes slightly afraid.

"Alright, we'll take you, starting tomorrow. We just have to load up. We have a tunnel directly there, it will only take us about eight hours."

"For now, you may rest and eat. You will find dwarven hospitality is much more exciting than elven formalities." They lead me to a small dining hall, and Azanturg starts a small roaring fire that warms the room instantly. He takes a small goat and nods at his son.

"Find your most trusted friends. We are going to feast." After his son leaves, he smiles apologetically to me. "Would you mind covering your ears? You look like a beautiful child of man without them."

I blush slightly at the compliment. "That's alright, but my father is well known among dwarves. I should be fine." I turn away as he gets out his axe and turn around once I hear the chop of the blade and the thump of the animal dying.

"Even so, m'lady, some dwarves are very touchy about your kind." He hums a little tune as he works, spicing it just right. I stare at the spices.

"Those must've cost a fortune, how'd you come by them?" At this he smiles.

"Now this is why I like elves. Despite our bloody past together and our many grievances, they still trade and grow the best spices in Middle Earth."