Balara's skin had woven itself back together whilst the company held her in the living room. She had been leaning directly into the fire and she did not notice. Her skin blistered and shed from her skull - and she noticed not once. This caught Fili's attention, for the act of her skin re-building itself was odd. Balara hummed quietly as the dwarfs began their tune.
Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day,
To seek the pale enchanted gold.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells
As hammers fell, like ringing bells
In places deep where dark things sleep
In hallow hall beneath the fells
For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shape the wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.
On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.
Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To find our long forgotten gold
Goblets they carved for themselves
And harps of gold where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves
The pines were roaring on the height
The winds were moaning in the night
The fire was red, it flaming spread
The trees like torches blazed with light
The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire
laid low there towers and house frail
The mountain smoked beneath the moon
The dwarves, the heard the tramp of doom
they fled their hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.
Far over the Misty Mountains grim
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away ere break of day
To win our harps and gold from him!
Balara's eyes watered as she listened to their song, staring at Fili as he sung. They all sounded so full of emotion, her poised figure faltered slightly. Their voices rung together in sung a melodic way she couldn't help but be moved. Perhaps she was being held prisoner to this company. Perhaps they did want her dead. Perhaps their kind, and her old kind, have a bad relation. But, she certainly wished to help get their mountain back.
"I must help you on your mission, it is crucial that you may return to your home. We all deserve a home." Balara bowed her head, kneeling on one lean leg. A balled fist to her heart, being slightly over dramatic. Her hair falling into her eyes, "I have belonged to no home but the acre's to the left, and had my home been torn from me with the blazing of fire - I'd would wish all the help I could obtain."
The dwarves cold stares seemed to soften slightly, if for only a second. Thorin boring down at her, feeling mighty against her bowed stage. Submitting into the company, in kindness and hopes of friendships. Kili smiled, Fili still feeling doubtful and uncomfortable. But, for him a slight warm sensation flooded him - thinking perhaps, elvish kin aren't as bad as the tales told say.
"Should you be so willing, you will help us retrieve our mountain - or you will die in the attempt." Thorin nodded, squinting his eyes down at Balara.
She looked back up, antlers coming close to skimming the dwarfs clothes. Balara tucked her shimmering strands of hair behind a pointed ear. "Of course," she nodded. Her voice not hesitating nor wavering, for she was certain of which she wished to do.
YOU ARE READING
Balara, Girl of The Forest//Fili
RandomBalara. When only in her tweens, as hobbits call it, was forced out of her home in the forest realm by her father Thranduil. She carried all seven sins, and with that, her father deemed her dangerous and made her leave her home. Nowhere to go, she...
