Gwaeneth (Gwae-neth) part istari, the other half-elf.
Has lived in the City of Dale her whole life. Tragedy strikes when she's very young, making her see the world differently. But she won't be alone. She'll have others to turn to, others she consi...
Gwaeneth (Gwae-neth) had lived in the city of Dale for her whole life. With her mother and father. 7 human years, that is. Her grandfather left her mother, father and her in this human city when she was young to do some "important business."
They owned a clothing store, and her father made weapons. A blacksmith.
Being half Istari, half-elven had its perks. She aged slowly, had good hearing, light footsteps, and had powers. For her 5th birthday, a ring with a green gem in the middle was given to her by her grandfather. It was to channel her power through years down the road. She's always had the ability to see straight through someone, to see if they're lying or not. If they're a good soul.
The people in Dale knew of her heritage and felt honored to have an Istari/half elf living with them, in their city. Yet, she was also looked as an outsider. She wasn't the species of man (at least not fully) she was a half-breed.
-Gwaeneth is a child, a few years older then a Fili and Kili. Both born in Erebor- (Yes, a slight timeline change, but you'll see why.) - I don't own any of these pictures! -
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One fall day, a couple of dwarves around her age were walking the streets, along with an elder dwarf. She didn't notice this, having her head down, hugging her puppy and lost into her own thoughts until they stopped by her.
"Why are you sad?" A young voice asked. She looked up and blinked. No one in Dale really cared. "My mum is sick." She sniffled. The older dwarf knelt down, the two younger ones looking at her. "I'm sure your mother will be just fine, sweetheart." He spoke, gently. "We don't have money for a healer. She coughs, always sweating, can't eat... I'm afraid she'll die." She cried. "I'll have one of my healers come take a look, how's that?" The dwarf suggested. "Thank you." "Why are you alone?" The blond asked. "I'm not well liked." She explained, looking to him. "Why not?" His brother asked, confused. "Because I'm a half-breed. Istari and Elven." She sighed. The brothers looked at each other. "Wow..." Kili whispered wide eyed. Where as Fili said "Cool!" "Can you do magic?" Fili asked. "Not yet." "Uncle, can we be her friends?" Kili pleaded. He looked down and smiled at his youngest nephew. "I suppose, but you must have someone with you at all times. You two are heirs to the throne." Gwaeneth's eyes widened. Just realising who these dwarves were. "I'm sorry, I didn't know who you were..." Gwaeneth (Gwae-neth) spoke in a rush. Thorin put a hand on her tiny shoulder. "Do not worry little one, we don't expect you to." "I'm Gwaeneth by the way. This is Piper, my dog." "I'm Fili, this is my brother Kili. And my uncle, Thorin." "It's nice to meet you all. And thank you for wanting to be my friends and helping my mother." That, was the start of the friendship between Gwaeneth, Fili, and Kili.
Thorin made sure to check in on the little girl often, updating her on when the healer would be available. Each time, her frown or sad face would turn into a smile.
Soon a healer visited Gwaeneth's mother, Mithan (Mith-ann) who was an Istari. - Daughter of one of the five Istari's. Thorin led the healer, Óin to her house one rainy morning. She greeted him happily. One of her few smiles lately.
Her father, Northon, (Northa-on) hadn't had much time to spend with her because of her mother's illness. He'd been by her bedside day and night. He was half-elf. If his wife were to die... He might fade from heart break as most elves do.
"Hello again, Thorin." He looked down at her, "morning, Gwaeneth. This is my friend and healer, Óin. May we come in?" She nodded and let them in. One could hear her moans of pain immediately. The young girl didn't need to tell Óin where to go. Óin whispered to Thorin. Something was clearly wrong. "How about you show me your room?" Thorin asked. "But what about mum?" She asked. "Óin will take care of her, not to worry." Thorin assured her. Gwaeneth nodded. "This way, then." She spoke taking Thorin's large hand. She showed him all her toys, and wooden sword her father made for her. The ring her grandfather made. Little did she know, that Thorin was distracting her. He smiled. "That's a beautifully crafted ring." Thorin spoke, kneeling at her level. She looked at it fondly. "Yes, it is. It's meant to control my powers one day, like a staff would." She explained. Thorin looked amazed. "Have you been taught how to fight with that sword?" Thorin asked. She shook her head. "Father hasn't had time." "Well, that may have to change, Gwaeneth." "Really? You'd teach me how to fight?" Gwaeneth asked, getting excited. "Aye, if you're going to be around Durin's your going to have to know how." "Why's that?" She asked confused. "Because, child dwarves, dworrows. Can be rowdy. And my nephews...are a handful at times." This confused her "rowdy"? She tilted her head evenmore confused. "Ah...we can be loud. I should say." Gwaeneth nodded. "So can I!" Thorin laughed. "Well, you'd fit right in."
A knock on the door was heard.
"Thorin? Gwaeneth? May I have a word?" Óin asked. Thorin stood, looking to the child, then to the door. "Come, lets see what Óin wants." Gwaeneth nodded. Her hopes up. A healer had come, after all. Óin looked to Thorin, giving him a meaningful look he knew all too well. Óin then knelt down. "Gwaeneth, your mother...she has caught an illness that I do not have the supplies to heal. I am sorry." Silence. Pure silence. Gwaeneth had heard him wrong. She had to have. Healers can heal anything. Right?
She looked to Thorin, lost. Tears brimming her eyes. He hugged her like he would his nephews. Thorin knew what would most likely happen now. He knew how Elves faded after a loss of a loved one. She sobbed into his shoulder. "Can you not do anything Óin?" He asked. "Only ease the pain, I'm afraid, sadly." He replied. "Gwaeneth, you will be okay in the end. This, I promise you." He looked into her eyes. She nodded, tears streaking her face. "Do you wish to see your mother and father?" "Y-yes." Was all she could get out. They approached her mothers room, her hand in Thorin's for comfort. Sobbing. Her father was sobbing. Like she had been moments ago.
Young Gwaeneth ran into her fathers arms, trying to comfort him some, but he was mainly focused on his wife. The two Dwarves remained in the doorway. Northon (Northa-on) held his daughter closely to him, her head tucked under his chin, sitting in his lap. They both sat on her mothers bed, she was covered in sweat at times gasping for breath. Other times yelling out in pain. Gwaeneth took her hand. "It'll be okay mum." She said through tears. Mithan (Mith-ann) smiled at her, and squeezed her hand. "I know, darling. Whatever may come...stay strong. Never stop fighting." She spoke. Another wave of pain hit her before she could speak to her husband. He held his daughter tighter, tears hitting her head. "Northon, keep our daughter safe. Hold on, for me." "I'll try, my love." He repeated. Gwaeneth slowly got off her fathers lap, and headed to the two Dwarves. "Thank you for trying, Óin." "I wish I could've done more." "And thank you for bringing him here, Thorin." She smiled through her tears. Once more, he knelt to eye-level. "If you ever need our help, or wish to play with my nephews. Just send word. We're honored to have a race such as yours here. You'll be trained to fight with your wooden sword too, don't worry." Gwaeneth smiled before hugging them both. They were a blessing in her life.
Both had good hearts, that she sensed. That is why she grew so close to Thorin so fast.
Sadly, Mithan was like this, for another week. Before she passed.
~*~*~*~*~*~ So, as of January 16th, 2020 I'm rewriting this completely. (I'll let you know when its over in the description, and "Disclaimer" chapter.) Note 📝: there is a hint on who her grandfather is. And yes, yes, I know the Valar/Vala made the Istari. But, its a fanfiction so roll with it! Anything is possible!
