Coming Home

Let Your Heart Do the Leading

             That next morning she woke to find herself wrapped in a large fuzzy blanket, snuggled into the corner of the great room that Beorn had prepared for the company with the help of his animals. The smell of hay filled her nostrels mixed with the sweet scent of honey. Scooting farther down into her position she let her eyelids close again, enjoying the peace and quiet for the moment. If only mornings could be like this every day, the life would be more enjoyable. She sighed, only one thing might make this better, but she knew that it would be impossible for her to obtain.

      Her ears twitched as she heard muffled voices echoing through the halls, the dwarves must already be awake and taking full advantage of Beorn's well stocked pantry. She chuckled silently at the thought of the mess they must be making. If the pantry was anything like Bilbo's had been there would be very little left when their host reappeared. Shifting her position, she listened to a pair of heavy foot falls enter the sleeping room. Concentrating, she was suprised to find them to be Kili's.

"I know that you are awake," he voice broke through her facade with a muffled chuckle,"I brought you something to eat."

Opening her eyes she peered at him warily from under her lashes,"Since when does the nephew of the King Under the Mountain pay attention to the pointy-eared elf? "

He ignored her comment, knowing that he had been one of the people calling her that in the beginning, and rolled his eyes,"Are you hungry or not?"

    Grumbling at his obvious avoidance of her question, she pushed herself up into a cross-legged sitting position. She rubbed her eyes, and combed her fingers through her tangled hair, huffing as she caught her hands on a rather large knot. She held out her hand for the plate that the Prince gripped in his rough hands. He handed it to her and settled down to watch her eat. This she found rather unnerving, people did not just watch other people eat. Did he want something?

"What do you want?"

"Uh, well, I was wondering, ummm, you know that you're hair is pretty tangled, right?"

" Yeah, I noticed..."

He growled, and tugged on one of his braids, "Well, I was wondering if you would mind if I braided it for you?"

She spit her food out, stammering"W-what?"

"I meant no offense, I know our people's customs by heart, I could braid it so that it would be out of the way for when we travel, with no strings attached." he replied trying not to get flustered,  though it was seeping through into his tone.

She bristled, eyes narrowing even with his reassuring comments . Handling someone's hair was considered a very intimate gesture among the dwarven people. There were so many meanings behind it,  the only people you let touch  your hair were either family, which he was not, or that you cared very deeply about someone. The last person, or at least the last dwarf, that had helped her with her unruly hair was nearly ninety  years ago. That had been back when some of her father's family still accepted her with her elven background. Her mind drifted back to the days in the cool mountains, sitting out under the stars and telling tales of the past to her younger cousins. One of the eldest girls had begged to play with her hair, she had only been fifteen, still practically a child by dwarvish standards, and pleaded to braid it in the latest fashions. She had never had a male cousin or Uncle ask to do such a thing, it would have been considered strange. But Kili's request didn't make her bristle because she didn't want him to touch her long locks. She bristled because it felt almost nice to have someone care enough to ask to help her with her troublesome tresses.

"Urhemm," He grunted awkwardly, something that was not common for the self-assured commanding dwarf.

She snapped out of her memories and looked at him full in the eye. She was shocked at the uncertainty that pooled in his dark eyes, it startled her. Was he nervous? That made her almost snort, Kili? Nervous? Never! But yet he was, he was shifting uncomfortably in the tense silence that seemed to envelop them. Knowing that what she said next could very well influence whatever future she had she paused a few moments more. All her uncles words about getting to close to the dwarves flooded past her minds eye, telling her, begging her to refuse him. Her heart was in her throat as she tried to swallow down the fear. She must not accept him. It was against all logic and reason, and her personal vendetta to let anyone near her heart in anyway again. It had already been broken far to many times for her to count, mostly because she had been so trusting. And yet, her heart seemed to think otherwise, for she slipped her hand into her pouch and withdrew a delicate silver brush and an even smaller comb of the same make.