Sulûn (The Falling) [Tolkien Dwarf FanFic - Third Age]

Ritual

I gently closed the door in the face of another would-be suitor as I firmly whispered apologies and excuses for why our conversation could continue no longer. He still talked, black beard bristling with his animated speech, seemingly unaware that the door was closing between us. As soon as the latch caught, I slumped against the door and sighed, sliding down until I was seated on the cold stone of my floor, listening to my companion gradually falling silent from boasting the productivity of his mine, and finally his heavy footsteps retreating down the empty hall. I sighed again, this time in relief.

I carefully unlaced and unbuckled by boots, sliding them off my feet and to the floor with a loud thump, deafening in the still air of my room. The tan leather looked warm and inviting in the flicker of the flame of my hearth, but it was deceiving. The boots were new and still chafed horribly. I unwrapped the herb soaked cloths from my feet, there to prevent blisters, and set them aside. They did not fully work. I winced as I stood to unbuckle the belt from my undyed robe, an earthy almond from the natural fibers, and let it fall loose around me, draping shapeless from my shoulders. I wiggled my toes into the cold stone floor and gave my waist a scratch in reward of being constricted all day. Ah, it felt good to be home, away from prying eyes.

I walked my boots over my my wardrobe, setting them on the floor beside it, then rustled around for a change of clothes and my soft soled shoes. I chose a light cotton blouse and a robe, deep gold with tourmaline and black glass beading around the collar, which wrapped around and tied at my waist, accentuating my shape -- broad shoulders tapering to a nipped in waist and very slightly rounded hips. I wrapped these clothes into a bundle and slid on my soft soled shoes, which were once rich red, but were now faded with age and dusty from the halls. It had been a particularly harrowing day, I had smeared the ink on a particularly long scroll as I hastened to finish and slink away unnoticed from my would-be paramour of the evening. I lost on all counts, it would take days to earn back the value of the destroyed parchment, my beard was sullied, and I also could not escape his rapturous opining about his gem mines. I decided to go to the bathing pools deeper in the dwelling to soak away my troubles.

Picking up my bundle of clothing, I opened the door a crack. The hallway was empty! I quickly slid out of my door, pulling it gently until i heard the latch catch quietly through the wood, and padded down the hallway toward the stairs that lead to the springs. These softer shoes were a necessity when one wanted to move about unnoticed. My youth of slinking around before I had found my house made me uniquely in tune with the usual bluster accompanying a moving dwarf -- the stomp of firm footfalls in heavily soled boots, the jingle of mail or jewelry wrought in fine metals, even breath could not be muffled, birthed in deep barrel chests and bursting through curtains of hair in gruff puffs. I had created my soft soled shoes myself out of the remnants of what was probably a fine robe pulled from the tailor's basket of scrap, I was almost certain I was the only dwarf that wore such shoes, making me almost undetectable as I stalked the lonely hallways.

---

The springs were generally empty. There were very few dwarrowdams in Khazad-dum, and the dwarves seemed to only bathe at the most absolute dire need. A basin of water was generally enough for them when they could be pulled from their craft. It was a shame the pools lay empty, for they were beautiful. Rock dripped from the cavernous ceiling which disappeared into darkness in long claws and hung in translucent leaves of quartz rippled with amethyst, holes running through them like the lace the elves wore. The pool the springs formed was large, carved into sharp angles with richly decorated steps sinking into the water, all of the submerged stone covered with a thin layer of white and yellow crust from the dissolved minerals. There was a natural jetty of the semi-translucent rock that divided the pool in half for privacy, presumably male and female halves, but seeing as the pools were little used, I paid no heed to the suggestion.

As expected, it was silent other than the trickle of water into the spring. Ah! To be alone again! I often considered it a curse as a child, but now it was a comfort, almost a blessing.

I found a vanity tucked away in a corner and stowed my bundle of clothing in the basket underneath it before wrapping myself in a large towel and sitting on the stool, gazing into the polished metal mirror to take loose my two braids. With those loose, and the beads safely stowed, I gave myself a once over. My hair formed a mane around me, wild waves the color of the sun which peeked through our skylights in the upper halls, it melded with my beard which was beginning to curl out at the tip from being tucked into my belt near constantly. The curl of the tip was stained black with the ink that would cost me several meals. I sighed, my brows knitting over my amber eyes in frustration as I reached toward the scissors on the vanity and began the painstaking process of clipping off as little of my soiled beard as I possibly could.

I believe I am the only dwarf to ever willingly cut their beard.

Pleased with the results of my grooming, I secured my towel and walked toward the steaming pool. With one last glance around to ensure my privacy, I left the towel at the top of the steps and melted into the water. The heat of it was heavenly to my shoulders, stiff from being bent over parchment all day. I leaned back into the water, my hair floating around me, and closed my eyes enjoying the feeling of weightlessness. It's not often a dwarf feels light; we are a sturdy race, heavy with muscle. Mahal made us hardy, to withstand great hardship. This floating sensation was what I thought Elves might feel like with their talk of the stars and Elbereth, as opposed to dwarves who felt bound to the earth. I had not seen many Elves in my life, but occasionally an envoy would come from the Golden Wood and I had glimpsed them gliding through our halls as etherial as dust motes in the shafts of light from the skylights, something completely foreign to me.

----

The warmth of the water and drifting of my thoughts must have lulled me to sleep, because I was suddenly awoken by a loud splash near me and a gruff voice raised in greeting. The voice much too deep to be another dwarrowdam, and the splash was massive, spraying water onto my face and leaving me sputtering for air. Only a male dwarf could be so rude. I stilled in terror.

Oh no.

I had suddenly found myself in a most unexpected delicate situation.