Chapter 1

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The girl walked slowly, distracted by all the beautiful things surrounding her. Brightly colored silk on bolts, pinks, blues, purples. Hand spun wool yarn, dyed in colors you wouldn’t imagine possible. Crowns forged of gold, encrusted with jewels and precious stones from deep within the mines. Diamonds strung on silver necklaces, chains as light as air. Masks painted with vivid colors, feathers, beads, and gems embellishing them, there was after all, a ball in the mountain tonight, a masked ball.

“Come Beuren!” She looked up at her mother. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a traditional braid. Her mother, Vanya, held her hand out to the young girl. Beuren took her index finger and trotted beside her. Vanya pulled her daughter to a stop in front of one of several outdoor shops. They entered the tent and looked around, masks lined the racks, table tops were covered, all hand painted and decorated. The mother took one off of the table, it was simple, a light violet with a silver swirling pattern that covered only the eyes and the bridge of the nose. She knelt down in front of Beuren and put it in place, tying the silk ribbon under her hair. With a smile she adjusted it so it sat perfectly strait.

“Lle en vanima Beuren.” (You look beautiful Beuren).

“Kai ve' lle atara. Lle ier sai vanima.”  (Nothing like you mother. You are very beautiful.) She smiled and stroked the girl’s cheek lovingly.

“Just like your father, so humble and kind.” She said planting a kiss on the chestnut head of the girl then stood up. She took the mask off of Beuren and paid for it. “This will look lovely with your dress.” She smiled and took the girls hand, then headed back towards home.

As they trudged through the crowd, a silence fell. The crowd parted, the streets of Dale then became empty, and everyone packed onto the sides of the path, bowing low. Beuren, being too small to see what everyone was bowing for, she dropped her mother’s hand and pushed through the crowd, her pointed ears twitched, listening close. When she got to the edge, she saw them.

Three dwarves paced toward the bowing crowd, down the pathway. One was older; a long grey beard was adorned with what looked to be metal of some sort and several braids. He wore a crown atop his head, made of silver and gold. He held his head high, blue eyes twitched this way and that.

The second dwarf was younger than the first. Several tattoos sat on his brow. His beard was black, fading to grey along the sides. He looked at everyone as he passed by; he seemed much friendlier than the first dwarf. He saw Beuren and nodded, giving her a small smile.

The third dwarf however, was nothing like the first two. He clutched tightly to the second dwarfs hand. He was Beuren’s age at least. His black hair was to his shoulders, neatly combed; the first several layers were pulled back and tied with a thin strip of leather. His eyes flicked around, looking at all the bowing people, then they landed on her. Beautiful sapphire eyes met her emerald green irises. Shyly she smiled and waved a little. He looked up at the second dwarf, who didn’t return the glance. Then he turned back to her, smiled and waved boldly, making her smile.

“Bow child! Those are the kings.” A woman said next to her, forcing her shoulder downwards, causing her to bow. She looked back up to see the boy no longer was looking at her, rather up at the older dwarf, who’s hand he held. That dwarf looked over his shoulder at Beuren, smiled then looked back down at the boy, sharing a few words with him, once more the boy looked back at her, waved again then was led on.

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