New story - next chunk
Jul. 26th, 2018 09:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wiseheartYep, I wrote a little bit more - not much, but progress is progress.
Which was certainly true; not that either Balin or Dwalin’s resolute wife would need the protection or the help of any male. The choice surprised the King a bit, though.
“You wouldnae entrust them to Dori?” he asked. “You are of the same Clan, after all.”
For as much as they were both of Durin’s House on the side of their respective fathers, like all tradition-bound Dwarves they declared kinship with their mothers’ kindred as well. In Balin’s case it was the BlackLocks, in Dáin’s the IronFists; they both married from their maternal Clan, too.
“I could have,” said Balin,” But Glóin is family. Besides, can you imagine my Yrsa and the Lady Ai in the same travelling group? There would be bloodshed after the first ten leagues, at the latest.”
“After the first five, if my wife were with them,” Dáin chuckled. Dwarrow-dams were fiercely competitive, especially high-born ones who were trained as warriors; and their mates adored them for it.
Balin’s wife had not received warrior training but she was the Clan matriarch in Uruktharbun, while Dori’s mate, the Lady Ai of the Lightning-hand, as she was known instead of by her sky-mane (which was Aurvang), was something of a living legend: the hero of many battles and countless victorious axe-duels. They respected each other well enough but rubbed shoulders frequently, too. ‘Twas better for everyone if they kept their distance.
“Speaking of which,” continued Dáin, “I wonder if Bombur would be able to keep up with the others. Riding might prove too hard for his injured leg.”
“He will not ride,” said Balin. “They go by wagon; Bombur volunteered to drive the team as it will be easier for his family to travel that way. They used to live on the Road as you know; this won’t be anything new for them.”
“They?” echoed Dáin askance.
Balin smiled. “Bifur would never let him go alone. And where they go, Bofur will go, too.”
“Bifur has a strong sense of family obligations,” said Dáin with grudging approval. Then he added with as much delicacy as a warrior Dwarf with strong IronFist roots could manage; which, frankly, wasn’t much. “I take she would like to meet your Burglar again, too.”
Balin sighed. For a Dwarf to find his or her One and not being able to have them was the worst thing that could happen. But – unlike Elves or Men – Mahal’s children could not have a fertile bond outside their race. Some scholars stated it was so because Elves and Men were created by Ilúvatar himself while Dwarves were formed on Mahal’s anvil and Balin tended to accept this theory. But whatever the true reason, it remained a fact that while Elves and Men could breed with each other, Dwarves could not do so with either.
That still left the Hobbits, and opinions about the smallest race of Middle-earth went widely apart. Some said they, too, were the children of Ilúvatar, the All-father. Others insisted that they had to be made by Mahal’s lady, Yavanna – or Kementári as the Wood-Elves called her – and that was why they loved the living and growing things so much. Indeed, their connection to the fertile earth was as strong as that of the Elves – if not stronger.
Neither of those possibilities would make them able to bond with a Dwarf, though. For Hobbits preferred to have large families with a huge flock of children. No Hobbit in their right mind would purposely enter a bond doomed to remain fruitless. Not even Bilbo Baggins who – quite unusually for one of his kind – managed to remain a bachelor for half a century or more.
Bifur knew this as well as anyone else; perhaps even better, as her merchant caravan regularly passed through the Shire and thus she had more dealings with Hobbits than the average Dwarf. Therefore she kept her longing for their brave, clever little Burglar hidden… from Bilbo, at the very least. No Dwarf on Middle-earth could have overlooked the signs, albeit they pretended not to know about the whole thing, out of respect and compassion.
Despite common prejudices among Elves and Men, Dwarves were capable of such feelings.
Balin shook his head in regret. This unfortunate turn of events not only condemned Bifur to a lonely life; it also meant that Óin, who had found his chosen One in her, would spend his life without a mate, without a family as well. Balin, married late but in fierce love with his lady and immensely proud of his only, late-born son, felt terribly sorry for them.
But that was the way of the Dwarven heart and no-one had the power to change it – perchance not even their Maker.
Opinions are welcome, and feel free to point out any grammatical errors.
Which was certainly true; not that either Balin or Dwalin’s resolute wife would need the protection or the help of any male. The choice surprised the King a bit, though.
“You wouldnae entrust them to Dori?” he asked. “You are of the same Clan, after all.”
For as much as they were both of Durin’s House on the side of their respective fathers, like all tradition-bound Dwarves they declared kinship with their mothers’ kindred as well. In Balin’s case it was the BlackLocks, in Dáin’s the IronFists; they both married from their maternal Clan, too.
“I could have,” said Balin,” But Glóin is family. Besides, can you imagine my Yrsa and the Lady Ai in the same travelling group? There would be bloodshed after the first ten leagues, at the latest.”
“After the first five, if my wife were with them,” Dáin chuckled. Dwarrow-dams were fiercely competitive, especially high-born ones who were trained as warriors; and their mates adored them for it.
Balin’s wife had not received warrior training but she was the Clan matriarch in Uruktharbun, while Dori’s mate, the Lady Ai of the Lightning-hand, as she was known instead of by her sky-mane (which was Aurvang), was something of a living legend: the hero of many battles and countless victorious axe-duels. They respected each other well enough but rubbed shoulders frequently, too. ‘Twas better for everyone if they kept their distance.
“Speaking of which,” continued Dáin, “I wonder if Bombur would be able to keep up with the others. Riding might prove too hard for his injured leg.”
“He will not ride,” said Balin. “They go by wagon; Bombur volunteered to drive the team as it will be easier for his family to travel that way. They used to live on the Road as you know; this won’t be anything new for them.”
“They?” echoed Dáin askance.
Balin smiled. “Bifur would never let him go alone. And where they go, Bofur will go, too.”
“Bifur has a strong sense of family obligations,” said Dáin with grudging approval. Then he added with as much delicacy as a warrior Dwarf with strong IronFist roots could manage; which, frankly, wasn’t much. “I take she would like to meet your Burglar again, too.”
Balin sighed. For a Dwarf to find his or her One and not being able to have them was the worst thing that could happen. But – unlike Elves or Men – Mahal’s children could not have a fertile bond outside their race. Some scholars stated it was so because Elves and Men were created by Ilúvatar himself while Dwarves were formed on Mahal’s anvil and Balin tended to accept this theory. But whatever the true reason, it remained a fact that while Elves and Men could breed with each other, Dwarves could not do so with either.
That still left the Hobbits, and opinions about the smallest race of Middle-earth went widely apart. Some said they, too, were the children of Ilúvatar, the All-father. Others insisted that they had to be made by Mahal’s lady, Yavanna – or Kementári as the Wood-Elves called her – and that was why they loved the living and growing things so much. Indeed, their connection to the fertile earth was as strong as that of the Elves – if not stronger.
Neither of those possibilities would make them able to bond with a Dwarf, though. For Hobbits preferred to have large families with a huge flock of children. No Hobbit in their right mind would purposely enter a bond doomed to remain fruitless. Not even Bilbo Baggins who – quite unusually for one of his kind – managed to remain a bachelor for half a century or more.
Bifur knew this as well as anyone else; perhaps even better, as her merchant caravan regularly passed through the Shire and thus she had more dealings with Hobbits than the average Dwarf. Therefore she kept her longing for their brave, clever little Burglar hidden… from Bilbo, at the very least. No Dwarf on Middle-earth could have overlooked the signs, albeit they pretended not to know about the whole thing, out of respect and compassion.
Despite common prejudices among Elves and Men, Dwarves were capable of such feelings.
Balin shook his head in regret. This unfortunate turn of events not only condemned Bifur to a lonely life; it also meant that Óin, who had found his chosen One in her, would spend his life without a mate, without a family as well. Balin, married late but in fierce love with his lady and immensely proud of his only, late-born son, felt terribly sorry for them.
But that was the way of the Dwarven heart and no-one had the power to change it – perchance not even their Maker.
Opinions are welcome, and feel free to point out any grammatical errors.
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Date: 2018-07-27 10:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2018-07-28 02:51 pm (UTC)