Author's note before you start this book: it's a super slow exposition! It takes a while before we truly get to know Ithtir, the first three chapters are really really introductory and we don't see the flaws and things of the main character. The 5th...
A/N: There's some Khuzdul and Elvish (Sindarian Elvish) towards the end of the chapter. Khuzdul is underlined, Elvish is bold. All translations are immediately after in italics.
Ithtir woke up on the morning of her journey, before getting up she prepared herself that this would be the last time in a long time that she would wake up in her own bed. She got up out of bed and got ready in a green tunic, a jacket, and her usual pants. Before she put on her jacket she strapped knives in their sheaths and hid them on her body the way her uncle taught her. He was notorious for being able to hide many knives on his person, so he taught Ithtir after she bested Thorin. Then she put on her jacket and quiver over her back, and then put her sword around her hips, and slid her feet into her boots. Once she was ready, she made her way to the mess hall for breakfast, she'd need to be sure to eat more than enough for the journey.
Once in the mess hall she sat in her official spot, one of the good things when she leaves is that her mother and father will be able to sit next to each other. She wasn't concerned about not being close to Gimli, she knew him well enough to trust him. Ithtir and her family ate in silence, wanting to soak up as much of each other's presence before they have to say goodbye. Once they finish eating, they head to the front gate to wait for Gimli. Her uncle had a servant pack a pony with food, water, and their bags.
"I'm so proud of you, my Thutratur Be safe and smart." Kili tells his daughter, "Maralmizi." I love you, he hugs his daughter tightly and holds back his tears that threaten to spill.
"Maralmizu, adad. I'll be careful. I'll come back to you, I promise." Ithtir promises her father, holding him just as tight.
"Come here, Iellig," My daughter, her mother holds out her arms so she can hold her daughter close, "You'll be fine, remember your training. the only swordsman I've ever known better than you is King Thranduil, and you might even beat him now. Gi melin" I love you. Tauriel holds her daughter close to her chest. Ithtir responds likewise to her mother, telling her she loves her in Elvish, her mother's native language. Before Ithtir gets too far from her mother, she is pulled back and handed a stone. She looks at it to find one of the few languages she has not yet mastered: Dwarvish Runes. She didn't have to wait long for her mother to explain, "This runestone was given to me by your father, just after Bard the Bowman killed Smaug the Terrible. When Bard was going to face the dragon, I took his children, Fili, Oin, Bofur, and of course your father to leave the city. We made it to shore just as Bard shot Smaug with a black arrow and Smaug the Terrible fell. Before your father left to come here, he gave it to me. But before he gave it to me, he had shown it to me when King Thranduil had the Company locked in cells. Your grandmother, Dis gave it to him before he left with the Company. It says "Return to me". I'm giving it to you now, as a reminder of me, of your father, your uncle, your people. You will come back to us, you will return to me. You're the best fighter Middle Earth has ever seen. But be careful." Her mother, with tears pricking her eyes presses the runestone into her daughter's hand. Out of the corner of her eye, Ithtir sees her father crying, an image not fit for a Prince of Erebor, but in this moment, he was once again, on the shores of Laketown, telling Tauriel how much he loved her. Ithtir took the stone and hugged her mother close, and then made sure to hug her father one more time, as reassurance, she would return. And she would be victorious.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Ithtir turns to her uncle, who gives her similar sentiments. And then he pulls out his sword and hands to her. "This sword belonged to Thorin Oakenshield. He left left it to me when he died. It was made by the old high Elves. I want you to take it, It'll serve you better than none." The strong King Under the Mountain had tears prickling at his eyes.
"Uncle, I cannot take that, it belongs to you as king. I return your sentiments, Maralmizu. As both your niece and a subject." Ithtir responds to her uncle. She couldn't wrap her mind around that her uncle was giving her his sword. THE Orcist!
"Take it, niece of mine. Do not make me command it as your king." Fili says sternly to his niece, not giving her an option. His uncle would've wanted her to have it, after all she is the best swordswoman in Middle Earth. "You're the only one I've ever known to beat Uncle in a swordfight. He'd want you to have it."
Ithtir reluctantly took the sword from her uncle, "Thank you, Irak'Adad." Uncle. and she hands him her, now old, sword. And climbs up on to her pony. "Let us leave Gimli! It's a long journey." Gimli had arrived just in time to see the king hand her the sword. "Rasup gamut" Farewell.
