Save Us

Amrâlimê

Through all her life, Mäetharanel had only ever wanted to hurt dwarves. Never did she imagine that she would be living among them, learning more and more about their culture, going as far as to begin getting interested about their secret language. She understood a few words of it, but only the Khuzdul they said in battle. The most colourful words, actually.

Dís and Thorin would mostly speak in Khuzdul whenever they were with other dwarves, which annoyed Mäeth. If someone asked her, it was quite rude to speak in a language not everyone that was present could understand, but it seemed that the majority won, and she was at a disadvantage.

Because she wanted to quench her curiosity, she began wondering about some words and phrases. The one she'd ask about them would usually be Balin, who'd look at her and would try to avoid answering by switching the topic. 

Mäetharanel, who began feeling less trusted, confessed to the dwarf that because they used their language around her, it felt like they meant to hide information from her.

The older Fundinson quickly denied it, and explained what she already knew: Khuzdul was to be spoken among dwarves alone, and it felt like a betrayal to teach her. Despite being sad that he could not teach her, Balin remained faithful to his race. The elf, not giving up easily, decided to ask Thorin and Dís.

"My, the elf wants to learn Khuzdul?", Mäetharanel sighed loudly. Valar help her, she needed patience, "You know our language is only ours, Mäeth", said Dís, almost as if speaking to a child.

"Balin has also refused to teach me, but whenever you are all together you seem to prefer communicating in Khuzdul. I understand practically nothing of it, unless you speak in your war vocabulary", Thorin frowned, "I understand very little of it and am very curious to learn about it. That is all, truly."

"You understand some words?", asked the king-to-be.

"Very few, but yes", she nodded.

"I see no harm in teaching you", the dwarrowdam stared at her brother in shock, "You have been living with us for some time now, it was due to happen", at that moment, Mäetharanel swore that Dís' beard got frizzled.

"Brother? Brother, are you alright? Oh, by Mahal, you must have hit your head! Fili, Kili! Come here!", the boys appeared.

"Yes, amad?", Fili didn't even have his braids done, he had been about to fix himself.

"Did Thorin hit his head while labouring?", they answered with a short 'no', "Oh Mahal, you truly are gone, aren't ya?"

"What's happening? Mäeth?", she chuckled and shook her head.

"It's nothing, go finish your doings, Ki", shrugging, his brother followed him out of the living room, "Is it so shocking that I want to learn?"

"What is shocking is Thorin wanting to teach an elf khuzdul!", Mäetharanel looked down, displeased, and Dís quickly explained, "Oh dear, you know you are more than that to us, but you understand my shock, no?"

"Enough of this, sister, if she wants to learn she will," Thorin nodded and stood up," I'll fetch some books from Balin, he certainly knows which ones will be better for you to translate and learn."

And he had done it, Thorin had grabbed some books and had begun teaching. He'd even read to her! Most books were about their history, which she had been acquainted with, and the more she learned about the dwarven leaders before Thror, the more interesting it got. How they had conquered their lands and how family mattered so much to them, it seemed awfully similar to elves.

In a particular day, Balin had given them a much different book, one that spoke of romance. Among the usual violent ways of affection, so usual among the dwarves, and while being corrected on her speech as she read out loud, a particular word made Mäeth frown.

"The woman glanced at the father of her son and smiled, with a rough voice filled with despair she professed her love to him...", and she raised an eyebrow, "'Amrâlimê'?", whispered the elven lady before looking at Thorin, "What is the meaning of this word?", he stared at her, dumbfounded.

"Do you mock me?", she shook her head ,"You have not heard this word? Not once?"

"No, Thorin", she rolled her eyes, "If you do not remember it, all the books we have borrowed are history related", she grabbed a strand of hair that had fallen from her messily done bun and messed with it, "So? Out with it."

"It means 'my love'", and he said it, looking straight into her eyes. The surrounding air changed, "Go on, out with it", mocked the dwarf.

"No need to be rude", huffed the elf, but the smile on her mouth told him all he needed to know, "My love, I give my all to you", and as she read out loud, her eyes never left his. Every single emotion that passed through Thorin's eyes did not go unnoticed by her, not the pride, the boldness, the care he felt for her... the love.

"You have got much better", said the king to be as he leaned forward, his forehead touching hers.

"I have a very good teacher. Thankfully his knowledge is bigger than his height", Thorin chuckled lowly, their noses rubbed each other. When the elf closed her eyes, Thorin waited a second before kissing her.

There were no fireworks around them, there weren't any butterflies flying around her stomach, and she didn't feel giddy with delight. The second their eyes met, Thorin saw it; her eyes were shining the same way they did whenever she got lost in thought. He immediately felt hurt as the possibility of her being upset about his gesture surfaced inside his mind.

"My apologies", and he backed away from her.

"Don't you dare, Thorin", and there she was, angry and scolding, but how dare she?

"Save it, Mäetharanel", he looked down, visibly upset, "I understand."

"You understand nothing", hissed the elf, "You know nothing."

"Then tell me!", his fist slammed down on the table, "How come you know everything and the only thing I know is your name?! I'm done being in the dark with you", her hand landed on his.

"All in it's due time, Thorin", whispered Mäetharanel, "Give me time, please."

"Hasn't it been enough? Almost ten years of you hiding away!", he was desperate by then, and it amused her the slightest bit. Dwarves weren't very patient creatures, and he had already waited a long time for her to talk.

"No, it hasn't. You must understand that if you don't know yet, it is because I have not made peace with my past, yes?", she nodded, waiting he would do the same, but he did not, "Thorin, you also have a past. You also do not wish to remember certain things... please understand me?"

"Won't you please understand me?", gruffed out the dwarf, and she merely let her head fall against his shoulder, hiding her face on his neck.

"I do, I do amrâlimê... I do."