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

Illicit Encounters

I spun on the ball of my foot, causing the robe to slightly flare and then slap noisily against my leg. I ran my fingers through my hair and beard to ensure it was relatively in place and free of knots and tangles. My fingers caught on my newly embellished beads, and I smiled wistfully. I was not yet accustomed to having them back. With a small sigh, I stepped toward the door; joy and terror warring within me.

Once again a little glint of blue caught my eye from my desk. Now how did that get there? Surely it had been tucked into my robe from the day's work, I had taken to carrying it with my everywhere. I took my family bead and wedged it into a pocket of my robe. Palming it through the golden cloth and holding it tight to my side, I pushed open my door: I needed something to give me strength.

Padding down the empty stairs to the bathing pools, I nervously fingered the bead within my pocket. Thoughts swirled in my head, all indistinct and yet unpleasant. Each step was one step closer to the unknown, the same nervousness gnawing at me that must plague a miner stepping into a newly open cavern; or was that excitement? Anything could be waiting in the darkness. I knew what would be waiting for me, or rather who would be; what would occur once I reached the bottom of the stairs, I knew not. I chanted a silent prayer in my head: mother, please give me strength.

A dim light shone green on the wall as I approached the bottom of the stairwell. Every step I took made my surroundings a bit brighter, which in turn made it more difficult to lose myself completely in thought. My attention was brought to my physicality with the same sharp focus my thoughts had been the recipient of only moments ago. My soft footfalls were the rough scrape of a crate pushed along the floor. My breath, jagged and too quick, echoed in the narrow corridor, sounding hollow and far removed. The beads upon the hem of my robe clicked against the stone steps whenever my feet would hesitate, the skittering clack of beetle's wings. I could feel the unruly hairs which had escaped my grooming drifting wanton in the slight breeze of the tunnel. My skin heated with a flush while paradoxically my flesh prickled with gooseflesh as I neared the bottom of the stairs.

I was met with a damp, vaguely sulfur smell as my feet met the polished floor of the bathing pool hall. This was it. I took a deep, fortifying breath, filling my lungs with warm, humid air and began tentatively searching for my giver of gifts.

A splash followed by a ripple in the surface of the steaming water commanded my full attention. If I thought I had reached the pinnacle of anxiety within in stairwell, I had been grossly mistaken -- my heart beat a tempest beneath my beard. He wouldn't....

His head broke the surface of the ink-dark water. My eyes locked onto his, black and almost predatory in the dim light of the pools. He slowly ascended the steps out of the spring, his black hair hanging in loose, dripping curls around his shoulders, seemingly carved from marble. I felt the heaviness of his gaze as my eyes left his to follow his arms, now moving to wring the water from his hair with nimble fingers. He had the hands for a jeweler's delicate work, but the thick arms of a warrior. What was his trade? I knew so little of him. His beard hung wet and clinging to his chisled chest, muscles bulging under a pelt of curly black hair that blended with the wet edges of his beard. My eyes followed the path of hair down his chest, to his taut stomach, until... Oh my! I blushed and turned away in shame, catching a fleeting glance of thick, powerful legs like the trunks of trees. He was perfect, as if carved from the mountain as a model of dwarvendom by Mahal himself.

This was not proper behavior. I had never known a dwarf to be so... forward.

"Good evening, lovely Eilíf," I felt as much as heard his warm breath on the shell of my ear, the tickle sending a jolt down my spine like lightning, igniting a fire deep within my belly. Startled by his sudden nearness, I gasped and spun quickly to face him.

"Who..." this was embarrassing, my voice felt thick in my throat; I could barely choke out words, "Who are you?"

He reached out and took one of my braids into his hand, rubbing the wooden bead between his fingers reverently, "These are even more lovely within your golden hair," he mused. I huffed in mild annoyance, prompting him to continue, "It would be best for the both of us if you did not know."

"How can that be your answer?" I shook angrily from his grasp, amber eyes flashing. "When you asked for my name, I gave it to you. How dare you deny me the same courtesy? You know where I work, where I live... I know nothing of you save an initial. This is..."

Once again his rough finger pressed against my lips to silence me midsentence. He bowed, the towel he had wrapped round his waist slipping to sit on his hips, revealing deep clefts of muscle, and my eyes irresitably drawn lower, a tease of black curls peeking over the fold of the towel. "Nain, at your service."

"Eilîf, at your service and your family's," I replied with a perfunctory curtsey. Even having grown up an orphan without a family to instruct me in dwarvish custom, I knew the proper answer to such a greeting. As strange as the circumstances around this greeting might be. My cheeks flamed again as improper thoughts skirted through my mind.

Nain chuckled darkly, a smirk twisting his lips, "You are already at the service of my family, Eilîf." His eyes sparkled in mirth at his private joke.

I was not sure what to make of that. There was no family I was in service to, save the dwarf who oversaw the scribes. But even then, I was in service to him, not his entire family except in the polite sense of greeting. Who then was I in service to?

I gasped as sudden realization hit me, "You are the Prince!" I fell to one knee at his feet, "My Lord, I must apologize for my impertinence. I did not realize... without your braids... I thought.... Well it does not matter what I thought. Please forgive me."

Nain sighed and crouched in front of me, causing his towel to pool at his feet and yawn wide, exposing the entirety of one of his thighs, muscles tensed and bulging under the strain. Be still, my heart. You should not have these thoughts about the Prince. He hooked a finger under my beard, finding my chin and tilting it up so I was once again lost in his dark eyes, softened with a hint of sadness. "It was better that you did not know. Being treated as a normal dwarf was so refreshing. I fear now that you know, your fire will have burned out." His thumb caressed my lips absently as he spoke, causing my eyes to drift closed during his speech.

Oh but my Prince, the fire had not burned out. It had risen and spread. My whole body felt aflame -- a blush creeping into my cheeks, my heart beating a rhythm like the wings of a moth. I knew then that I had lost my heart, he had stolen it away. I would love him forever, fiercely as the worm loves gold, and this love was pointless for he was a Prince and I was a dishoused orphan, bereft of any lineage. But at that moment, it mattered not. Before me was but a dwarf crouched in naught but a towel, all trace of his lineage erased: no braids, no jewels, no fine raiment. Right now I could pretend.

Our faces were already so close, I leaned forward slightly and pressed my lips softly against his. I felt his sudden intake of breath, likely in shock, and awaited his pulling away. What I did not expect was his hands to entangle in my light, wavy locks and pull my mouth harder against his, greedily taking. My arms wrapped around his broad shoulders to steady myself against this fierce onslaught as we gradually tipped backward, sending me sprawling upon the cold, slick tile. But Nain's mouth never left mine. He took my gasp of surprise as an invitation. His tongue darted in my mouth as he now lay atop me, pinning me to the cold floor. I moaned against his mouth feeling his weight upon me and the tickle of his damp wet hair against my face.

Suddenly, he pulled away, his eyes round in shock. "Oh, I should not be doing this. This is wrong."

Confused, I propped myself up on an elbow and glanced down at the flesh now straining against his towel, "Obviously this is something you want," I said with a wry smile.

He smoothed my mussed hair away from my face and gently kissed my forehead, "Oh it is, my jewel," he said with that same dark chuckle, "I have never desired something so much. The fires of Glaurung himself are nothing next to this fire awakened within my breast. I just... I can't."

And with that he turned and ran from the hall, leaving me there in a tousled heap, with small puddles of water around me and my ragged breathing the only evidence he was ever there.