Having not been out in the world for nearly twenty years Ianthe has been dying to wander again, and when an old friend visits she is anything but calm upon hearing of some dwarves quest. So when Gandalf comes to her cottage and claims to be in need...
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Weeks had passed now, and it seemed that most everyone in the group was well-acquainted. Ianthe had found herself a lovely new title amongst the group of dwarves, one that even though she didn't seem to take too well too at first, had slowly grown accustomed to them calling for her that way. Gehyith is what they called her. Oddly enough it was Bifur that had referred to her as such first. The nickname for the mage came to be one night as they all told stories around a blazing fire, and it just so happened to be Ianthe's turn. She never really did think that she was a great story teller, but after the company continuously pestered her, she gave in. Not having any idea about what story to tell, Ianthe decided to instead tell them about the Mages and her rank.
It was only hours after she had finished the story that Bifur made mention of the nickname to his brother Bofur, who almost immediately agreed. Soon enough word spread around the camp and by the next day the dwarves found themselves all calling her that. Seeing as she doesn't know much about the dwarvish language, Ianthe was confused at first. It took her a couple of tries to sound it out, and then a couple more tries to get the pronunciation down too. Another day had passed of them calling her that Khuzdul nickname before she finally found out.
"Kili, can I ask you a question?" Kili's pony had fallen into step with Ianthe's horse up front, and almost immediately the mage turned to him. "You don't have to tell me... if you don't want too but... I'm confused."
Kili quirked an eyebrow at the mage as he turned to look at her. Ianthe's eyes were bright and curious, as they always seemed to be, yet they seemed to be swimming with a small bout of worry too. The skin of her cheeks seemed to shift as her teeth chewed on the inside of her mouth, her nose twitching the slightest bit whenever she felt Kili's eyes glance over her face. "Go ahead." The prince finally spoke, giving a small nod before he turned his gaze forward. His heart was already thumping loudly in his chest from staring at her features for too long, and only after he quickly swiped his sweaty palms against his trousers did he turn back to her.
Ianthe seemed hesitant to speak at first. Her eyes were downcast and a deep flush had settled upon her freckled cheeks, almost from embarrassment. "I-I'm sure you've heard what's been going around in the company." After moments of silence she spoke again, her hair flying around her face whenever she went to look back to Kili. Only when she saw the look of confusion swim in his brown eyes did she sputter out the next part. "T-the nickname, I mean! Gehyith? What does it mean?"
"Ooh," Kili let out a long hum while he nodded his head in understanding. The still off pronunciation made the prince chuckle a bit, but he couldn't help but admire the mage for her dedication to sounding out the word. "It means little dove," He informed, keeping his eyes ahead for a few seconds before he glanced over to her. Ianthe's lips were now parted, the ends turning up in a small smile while puffing her round cheeks out and her eyes were now shining again. The sight itself made Kili want to reach over and smooth his fingers over her skin, just to see how soft her plump, freckled cheeks felt underneath his calloused hands. But he shook the thought off, and instead leaned his head a bit closer to whisper something. "I think it's quite fitting," Kili felt quite proud when he saw Ianthe's cheek fill with color again at his compliment. "But don't tell anyone I told you. Khuzdul is really only known by dwarves and no one else outside of their kin."
