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

Maid of the day

Every day seemed an eternity.

I hadn't seen Nain in weeks, since our meeting at the pools, and he made no effort to contact me. Returning to the monotony of writing runes and fighting off suitors was unbearable. The more intently I tried to focus on my parchment, the further I became lost within the litany of questions and doubts bubbling up within my thoughts. The boasting of the dwarves surrounding me seemed somehow even more hollow and irksome as their brash voices punctured my brooding. This dwarf had crashed into my life and changed everything, then disappeared. It was hardly fair.

Why did he not come to me? Was his forwardness something I was to temper? Did I succumb too easily and now his interest waned? But no, we shared but a kiss. Surely if he had set out to conquer he would not have halted. Oh, what a kiss it was. If only he hadn't left... Yes, had he not left you would have lost your maidenhead upon the floor in a public hall. I cringed at the truth of this intrusive thought. But was this better; twisting in the agony of uncertainty? Above all else, I needed to know if he shared this unexplained pull toward me that I did toward him. I needed to know whether I would spend my spinsterhood spurned, because surely I would be a spinster nonetheless, as he couldn't possibly take me as a bride even if all my hopes were true. It would likely be easier if he rejected my love, but what a cruel thing to wish.

As he continued to refuse to come to me, I decided to go to him. I knew this would require a hooded cloak, lest my lack of braids and jewels give me away as not being nobility. Commoners were generally not allowed in the palace unless they had business with the court or worked as servants. As I awaited the next day upon which King Durin would hold court, I toiled away at night constructing a suitable cloak. I made it from a sumptuous black velvet, like the reflection of the night sky in Kheled-zarâm -- a cast off from a noble not fancying the color -- and upon it placed many white beads which glittered like stars. Around the hem and sleeves was heavy, geometric embroidery in silver thread which took days of stitching in the flickering light of the hearth until my eyes blurred with want of sleep. I wrought a fine pin to close the cloak at my throat, featuring a large blue jewel which looked almost like sapphire. Although it wasn't, and the cloak was covered in beads and not adamant, I looked as though I had the trappings of nobility. I hoped I would pass at least.

---

The day of court, I wore the beaded robe Nain had found and gifted back to me and wrapped its splendor in my black cloak. Tucking my hair into my hood, I pulled it far down over my face before beginning the long trek to the palace. I was not sure exactly where it was located. It was in the halls farther to the east, and on a much higher level than where I dwelt or worked, an area of Khazad-dûm of which I was wholly unacquainted. Luckily, I espied what I could only assume were members of the upper class making their way to the palace -- their raiment was fine, glittering with jewels, and their beards shone with plates of metal -- and followed them through the unfamiliar halls at a distance. The ceilings of the caverns in this area disappeared in the shadows of the heights, my boots rang with every step off the polished floor. As we made our way higher, the columns became more ornate, featuring gilded runes and inlayed stone. At last we came upon a door that looked to be forged from solid true-silver at the end of the hall. A few dwarves stood outside, flanking the door, lost in earnest conversation. Their beards wagged as they muttered back and forth. This must be where court was held. I slipped through the door after my reluctant companions.

Upon entering the throne room, I learned why it was located in the upper halls. The room was flooded in sunlight: brighter than any light I could remember seeing. I stopped on the doorstep to rub the white glare from my eyes. There were beautifully carved pillars lining each side of the room, forming alcoves which held statuary of various notable dwarves. Upon each of the statues shone a beam of light streaming through a skylight, the milky white stone seemed to glow in stark relief to the dark gray of the walls and the polish black floor. At the head of the room in the largest pool of light sat a large throne, fashioned of gold and true-silver, even more exquisite than the door to the chamber. It was empty.