Sea Glass

Chapter 1 - The Story Begins (or An Annoying Patron)

For Kili and Maia, love wasn't an easy journey. It started out as something simple, something rough, but like the turbulent waves, their tribulations smoothed the rough edges. Their love became as beautiful – and far more precious – than sea glass.

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All characters and most plot lines belong to the amazing Tolkien - I only own Maia and Ophelia (and their respective plot lines). The poem, referenced later in the chapter is a modified version of Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe. 

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"Come here, pretty lass," yelled a slurred voice, "Bring – hic – me 'nother."

With a deep sigh, one that emanated from the very depths of her irritated soul, Maia pasted a smile as she grasped the handle of the beer pitcher. With one hand hiking up her skirt to what could be an inappropriate length, had she not been a waitress at the Prancing Pony, she headed over in the direction of the drunken customer. Threading through the crowd, stomping on a few toes, and ducking away from some unruly hands, the young woman poured the umpteenth cup full that night.
While darkness cloaked the outside world, the pub was full to the brim – filled with thieves, drunken men and dwarves, and angry barmaids. For a moment, she rested her small hand on the rough paintwork that coated the tables of the patrons. Of course, the innkeeper could hardly be faulted for keeping the inn in such a disarray – he was a cheap man, and the crowd was mostly too drunk to notice. Rough, wooden splinters cut into her calloused palm; shards of brown paint crumbled to the floor as conversations swirled in a dirty cloud of smoke. The bitter stench of beer pierced Maia's nose, as she crumpled it in disgust. It was always beyond her understanding why men and dwarves alike would fill themselves to the brim with the drink.

Suddenly, a hand tugged at her white blouse, and she whirled around, her eyes ready to raze whoever dared touch her. She expected to see a man, drunken beyond recognition, as the dwarves rarely engaged in such contact with the "tall folk" but instead to her utmost surprise – she found herself peering down at a dwarf. In truth, she would not be much taller than him, but due to her padded and heeled shoes, she was managed to tower over him.

"Watch it!" she snapped, anger lacing her features. After taking a moment to study the dark-haired, and equally dark-eyed dwarf, she seemed to understand that he meant her no harm. She set down the mug and platter in front of him, while racking her brain, trying to remember where she had seen him before.

She must have stared at him for a moment too long, because she received a curt, "thank you", a clear sign of dismissal. Nodding and tightening her lips in irritation, Maia headed to the next drunken bar-patron, her mind still spinning with faint recognition. Without meaning to, she watched as a man wrapped in grey robes joined the grouchy dwarf and began a conversation. 

While the music and loud conversation should have drowned out all noise, Maia found herself being far too nosy for her own good and began cleaning (she used that term loosely) the table beside them, if only to overhear the conversation. 

The dwarf put down his pipe, which he had been smoking, and tore apart his bread and began to eat it. He ate messily, but his eyes darted around, suspicious and angry.

Exhaling heavily, the man in the grey robes introduced himself. His voice was deep but tinged with the smallest hint of amusement. "My name is Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey."

The dwarf looked up, his eyes boring holes into the man's – Gandalf's - face. A snort emanated from the dwarf as he announced, "I know who you are."