From realms unknown, a maiden true,
In shadows cast, her path to strew.
Durin's folk in peril dire,
Her light, a celestial fire.
With courage bold, a spirit old,
In tales untold, her saga told.
A guardian born 'neath starry night,
To guide and guard...
Upon reaching the Blue Mountains, Razia found herself immersed in a lively spectacle. The streets bustled with activity as dwarves of all kinds hurried about their daily tasks. Merchants peddled their wares, craftsmen showcased their skills, and the general hum of a thriving dwarven community filled the air.
Bifur and the other dwarves bid farewell to Razia, expressing their gratitude for the company she had provided on their journey. "May the road treat you kindly, lass," Bifur said, clasping her shoulder.
Razia smiled appreciatively, "Thank you, Bifur. Your tales and company have been a gift. Farewell, and may Mahal watch over you."
Journeying through the intricate layout of the dwarven town, Razia found herself engulfed in the heart of their craftsmanship. The narrow, winding streets eventually led her to the central square, dominated by a grand hall that spoke volumes about the dwarven legacy. It was here that she hoped to glean information about Erebor and the unfolding events in Middle Earth.
Recognizing the delicacy of her mission, Razia made a conscious decision to avoid drawing attention from the main characters of the story. She believed that discreetly mingling with the townsfolk might yield insights into the dwarves' potential plans to march on Moria.
In the bustling square, her attention was unexpectedly captured by a group of dancers. Clad in attire strikingly similar to that of her true home, they wore dresses that embraced their bosoms and waists before cascading into flowing A-line skirts. Gold earrings adorned their ears, and their faces were veiled with sheer cloth, allowing the outlines of their slim faces to be visible. The dancers' eyes, large and doe-like, were accentuated by bold black liner, creating an enchanting allure.
As the dancers engaged in hushed conversation, Razia observed their attire, which seemed more fitting for a traveling band of entertainers than dwarves. The group dispersed, and a man produced a violin, initiating a melodious tune that resonated through the square. The dancers swiftly regrouped, their hips swaying and arms moving in perfect coordination, weaving a tapestry of beauty and grace. A lively crowd soon formed, stomping and clapping, turning the square into a merry gathering.
Transfixed by the mesmerizing spectacle, Razia's memories transported her to the vibrant temple dances of her homeland. The complex red dresses, adorned with gold earrings, bells, waistbands, and headdresses, echoed in her mind.
In an unexpected turn, one of the dancers approached Razia, a mischievous glint in her eye. Before Razia could react, she was pulled into the heart of the dance. Initially flustered, Razia hesitated, but the infectious rhythm of the music compelled her to let go.
Silently thanking her mother for the years of Karnatik singing lessons, Razia embraced the moment. Twirling and jumping to the beat, she gathered more dwarves to join the dance, infusing the square with a newfound energy. Her blue tunic stood out amidst the earthy tones of the dwarves' attire, and her braided hair began to unravel in the midst of the lively dance.
A wild smile adorned Razia's face, and her hazel eyes shone with unrestrained joy. The crowd around her erupted into cheers and applause as she surrendered to the rhythm, momentarily free from the burdens of her quest.
And in the distance, two blue eyes remained fixed on her.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
From the shadows, I observed her—the dancer with dark skin, a vision of beauty that defied the dwarven norm. Unnerved by the appearance of someone not dwarrow, not elf, but something else—perhaps human. Yet, in the midst of my concern, there was an undeniable allure to her presence. My gaze fixated on the bead in her hair, undeniably dwarvish. It spoke of a connection to my kind, a connection that intrigued and unsettled me simultaneously.
As she twirled and leaped with wild abandon, her hazel eyes shone with untamed joy. A beautiful smile adorned her face. The sunlight caught her cascading hair, turning it into a radiant halo. Despite the wariness of an outsider among my people, I couldn't help but be captivated by her.
Remaining hidden, I continued to watch—the dance, the laughter, the merriment she effortlessly brought to the dwarven celebration. Concerns lingered, a caution against the unknown, but there was an undeniable fascination with this enigmatic figure who had momentarily become a part of our world. In that moment, her beauty transcended the boundaries of our familiar realms, leaving an indelible impression on my heart.
