My eyes followed the long cuts across my chest through the mirror. Magic really was a wonderful thing. The scarlet patterns in my skin glowed faintly as my veins pulsed with healing energy. The gash had been stitched up and stopped bleeding. I could not remove the scars that rippled over my milky skin, but I could heal them, little by little.

I had been set in a medical room and tended to by Elrond himself. A foul elixir had been forced down my throat, and my body had kicked back up to functioning moderately. I could still feel the burn in my chest, as long as the humiliation that pooled in my cheeks. I had decided to rejoin my companions so as not to have them worried for me.

An elf maid had drawn a bath for me – seeing as I was drenched in blood – and had vanished with the promise of return. I stood beside the water basin and stared into the water that gave off wisp of white steam. I didn't remember the last time I had enjoyed a hot bath. I had lived in woods and in secluded shacks since I was ten. It's not every day one would wander upon a hot spring or an offered bath.

I stepped into the steaming water, watching as my dirtied skin turned pale under the surface of the water. The warmth spread through me as I sunk to my knees – gripping the sides of the tub – until I lay on my back. My breathing slowed as the initial burn wore off and I began to soak. I felt at peace now, so peaceful that my lids dropped before I remembered that my companions would not wait for me to begin the feast Lord Elrond spoke of.

I sat up and shivered as trails of pink water slid down my skin, removing the taint of blood from my body. I reached outwards towards little glass tubes of fine smelling soaps and began to sniff at them. I smelled scents such as floral nectar, vanilla, lilac, lavender, honey, and pine. I found myself drawn towards the pine smelling soap, and I uncorked the bottle and used a wet cloth to apply the soap to my skin.

I scrubbed my body until my skin was raw and pink. My markings glowed in a steady pulse now, and I could feel my body burning through whatever medication the elves had given me.

The door to the bathroom opened and I started. I hid myself with my arms and stared as an elf maiden peeked into the bathroom. She was blonde, blue eyed with fair skin and a dusting of freckles across her face. Her eyes found mine and she covered her eyes with one hand.

"Sorry, my lady." She apologized but did not leave, "My master asked me to bring this to you." She stepped into the bathroom and held up a black velvet dress. She hung it across a counter and quickly departed from the room as I thanked her. I eyed the dressed as I washed the soap out of my skin and drowned my hair with the stuff.

Once I smelled of pine – and the tang of blood and sweat lingered no longer – I stepped out of the tub and covered my body with a large towel. I was starving and I wanted something to eat. Mt thoughts were rushed and savaged as I imagined all the food I could eat, but then I regained my composure and began to dress in the offered item of clothing.

I stared at myself in the mirror, and the reflection that peered back could not possibly be my own. I stood facing a lady with pale skin and snowy hair. This version of myself looked different in the garb of my half people. I never dressed as my grandma did, or how other elves had. I had always looked like a child of the race of men. I was always dirtied and disheveled – wearing clothes that elves my age wouldn't have been caught dead in – always a strange child with an average appearance.

The dress was midnight black but when I turned, and the light washed over the dress, I could see blue hues dancing across the velvety fabric. The dress fell to the floor around my feet, with a lower neck than I was used to. It came to a point under my collar bones and the shoulders were draped with a separate piece of the midnight black cloth, sewn onto the shoulders of the dress by silver thread. It displayed my patterned arms and the puffy scars on my chest, but none of that mattered. I looked pretty, but that was a petty thought. I was just in shock of seeing myself in garments such as these. I had to remind myself that I was perfectly average, and not as beautiful as the ladies that walked these elvish halls were.

There was a knock on the bathroom door this time and I turned slowly to the large door before I carefully slid my hands down to the golden leaf handle, and tugged it open a smidge. I met the blue eyes of the elf maid and she smiled, holding up my boots that had been cleaned.

"I forgot your shoes." She said with a pink tint to her cheeks. I opened the door and gratefully took my shoes from her hands.

"Thank you." I said with a shy smile, "This is more than I deserve." I added with a small lighthearted laugh. The elf maid cocked her head to the side and looked at my arms as I elf the shoes in front of me.

"You're a witch?" She asked and sealed her lips – perhaps thinking she had spoken too boldly – and opened her mouth to apologize when I interrupted.

"Yes, I am." I said with a smile and walked over to the small bed that I had lain in when I awoke and slid my shoes onto my clean feet. "Have you ever seen one?" I asked; hoping the prayer in my voice wasn't plainly obvious. I wondered if my gran or my mother had passed into these lands while they looked for me. And perhaps, if they had come here, maybe they still were?"

"No, never." The elf maid said as she relaxed a little. She thought me intimidating and I felt guilty. It must have been a shock to be tasked with taking care of the strange woman who had come into the valley with gashes in her chest as the result of a warg encounter.

My heart sank into my stomach at her response. Maybe they had not come unto this valley yet. I refused to believe that they were anything but lost. I didn't want to come to grips with a reality that would rear its ugly head of bitter truth. I didn't want to be told that they were gone.

"I'm supposed to escort you when you're ready." I looked up at the elf maid and nodded. I stood up and breathed deeply, feeling the burn in my chest.

The elf maid opened the doors, and we exited the recovery room. I felt the soft leather of my boots against my clean skin and I felt as though I had never been clean until this moment. As we walked, I struggled to smooth my damp hair down. As the gentle breeze began to dry my hair, I gave up and let my hands down to my sides – not realizing how much it hurt to have my hands in the air, rather than at my sides.

I could soon hear the sounds of an elegant harp playing on the wind as we walked through the open aired hallways and towards a spacious balcony. A grey cloaked figure stepped out from an adjoining hallway with the elf – Elrond I think – and Gandalf turned around to see the elf maid leading me towards him. Seeing Gandalf made me want to smile, and I had a moment to breath in the relief that everything was fine and safe now that we were here.

"Ah, Valerie." Elrond spoke and I stopped a few feet in front of the two and sunk into a practiced bow.

"I owe you my life, Lord Elrond." I said and bowed my head respectfully.

"I don't think you would have died had I not been here." I looked up and met Elrond's brown eyes and he smiled, "You are incredibly strong, miss Everfell." Elrond said as I stared into his eyes.

With that, Elrond turned and lead us up a step and though a grand set of doors twice my size. I marveled as the doors opened onto a circular room, white pillars on the borders – supporting the bowl-like ceiling. There were beautiful maids carved out of stone, draped in curtains of foliage; and two tables. One of the tables looked like it was meant to be a bench but had been repurposed for the dwarves dining table.

"Kind of you to invite us. Not really dressed for dinner." Gandalf said with a smile.

"Well, you never are." Elrond spoke, looking over Gandalf's perpetual adornment of grey robes. Gandalf chuckled in response and I smiled at the two of them; finding their little joust was quite pleasant to watch.

All of the dwarves – aside Thorin who was sitting at the higher table – were gathered around the table. Once I stepped into the room Ori's head lifted and he stood up – scooting the bench back with a squeal –. The dwarves looked up at him as if he were out of his mind and then followed his gaze to me.

I stood very still as the dwarves turned one by one to look and stare at me. I felt strange, like my stomach was in knots, and a blush pooled in my cheeks. I nodded my head in acknowledgement to the group and Bofur scooted aside so I could sit between him and Ori. I nodded towards Gandalf and parted from them and sitting down with Ori and Bofur.

"Where have you been hiding, lass?" Bofur remarked playfully. I smiled with a small chuckle and looked at him with a lifted chin.

"Under a layer pf grime and warg blood." I said and a couple of the dwarves chuckled at my tasteless joke.

As I lifted a fork of green salad and tomato to my mouth, I saw Kili staring at the harp player who strummed the silver threads whist looking back at him. I looked between the two and held back a grin that would have completely overtaken my face if I let it. Kili winked at her and I pressed my fist to my mouth to hide the grin.

Dwalin sat across the table from Kili and gave him a mix between a scowl and a questioning expression. Kili looked up at the burly dwarf and shook his head. "I can't say I fancy elf maids myself, too thin." Kili said and this made my grin grow wider under the mask of my palm. "They're all high cheekbones and creamy skin." Kili looked from Dwalin to Bofur beside him and nodded along with Kili.

"Not enough facial hair for me. Although..." Kili trailed off as an elf strummed a handheld instrument, and Kili turned to follow the elf with his eyes. "That one there is not bad." Kili said and looked up at the elf.

I couldn't help it and I snickered behind my hand as I looked at the elf. The elf Kili was referring to, wasn't who he thought it was. "Kili." I mumbled and Kili turned to me, but all I could do was stare him in the eyes and stifle snickers.

"That's not an elf maid." Dwalin whispered, leaning over the table to look at Kili. An expression of shock washed over Kili's smug face as it dawned upon him why I looked at him like I had. Kili had just confessed that he found this elf – a male – more attractive than the elf maid.

Bofur started to laugh and soon, the entire company was looking at Kili and laughing. Kili nodded his head – ears turning as red as the tomatoes in my salad. "That's funny." Kili grumbled, but I was clear he did not find his blunder as hilarious as the others had. Bofur was wheezing next to me and I chuckled a little myself; my chest burning. I straightened up to keep my composure and found the eyes of Thorin. They were icy blue and staring at me as if he had forced himself to solely focus on me.

I didn't know why, but I thought I saw a glimmer of concern in his gaze.

An elf maiden with a flute bent down near Oin who took his listening trumpet from his ear and looked at it with distaste before stuffing a napkin inside to block the cooing of the flute. He waited a second before he smiled and nodded. He clearly disliked the musical accompaniment, and I had to agree that I wasn't a fan of this specific type of music.

When I lived in Gondor, our music was festive, yet composed. It somehow was the perfect medium between the reverent songs of the elves and the rowdy tunes of the dwarves.

I could see Elrond looking over the swords Gandalf and Thorin had found in the troll cave, but my ears were lost as I delved deeper into my salad bowl.

"I wouldn't bother, laddie." Balin said and I looked up to see Balin talking with Bilbo. "Swords are named for the great deeds they do in war." Balin was explaining and I caught sight of a light reflection bouncing up from Bilbo's lap to his jaw. I was guessing he had heard the conversation circling Gandalf and Thorin's swords and their names that he had decided to check his for one.

"What are you saying, my sword hasn't seen battle?" Bilbo asked.

"I'm not actually sure it is a sword." Balin said, "More of a letter opener really." Balin said and Bilbo struggled to find a kind of return for this offence, but he resigned from his quest and went back to his salad.

I looked up when a chair scooted backwards and I saw Thorin leave the high table and walk around the table, eyes inquiring as he looked at my markings from afar, and he stood a fair distance behind me. I didn't move for a while, but I sensed he wasn't looking at me I cautiously took a drink of water from a cup in front of me and drank a bit of it before setting it down. I had to remain composed and pace myself.

"Thirteen dwarves, a witch, and a halfling." Elrond skepticized quickly. I looked up to look over at Gandalf who sat across from Elrond and found his gaze. "Strange traveling companions, Gandalf." Elrond added almost scornfully, and I looked away as his brown eyes flicked in my direction.

I was unsure of how I could suddenly hear them over the noise until something In Gandalf's eyes had told me that he had opened a window. A window was a term for a spell that wizards and witches could use to share a sense with another. Gandalf was sharing his hearing sense with me. Whatever he foresaw, he wanted me to bear witness.

"These are the descendants of the house of Durin. They're noble, decent folk." Gandalf was saying and I noticed Nori tuck away what looked like a brass saltshaker into his shirt. "And They're surprisingly cultured. They've got a deep love of the arts." Gandalf added.

Nori turned to face the harpist who was strumming the same tune and said, "Change the tune why don't you? I feel like I'm at a funeral." Nori complained and stuck a finger in his ear.

"Did somebody die?" Oin asked and looked up and down the table.

"All right, lads. There's only one thing for it." Bofur piped up next to me and put his hands on the table and pushed aside his cutlery and stepped up onto the table. I caught his cup before it had a chance to spill in my lap and stared up at Bofur as he stood in the middle of the table and held out an arm.

"There is an Inn,

There in an Inn,

There's a merry old Inn,"

Bofur started to sing and lightly stomp on the table. The dwarves started chuckling and immediately joined in his song.

"Beneath an old grey hill,

And there they brew a beer so brown,

The man in the moon himself came down

One night to drink his fill."

I looked over when I heard a splat though Gandalf's sense window and I looked over to see a tomato oozing juice across the floor as Gandalf looked away from Elrond in embarrassment.

"Oh, the ostler has a tipsy cat

That pays a five-stringed fiddle,

And up and down he saws his bow,"

The voices dropped away as Bofur took the lead in the last verse as he mimicked the sawing of a violin on his shoulder.

"Now squeaking high

Now purring low..."

No one sang for a moment and a hoot or two came from the dwarves that I sat with. The elves around us exchanged confused looks and I saw two tall elves looking from the dwarves to one another in disgust.

"Now sawing in the middle.

So, the cat on the fiddle

Played hay-diddle-diddle,

A drink that'll wake the dead.

He squeaked, and he sawed,

and he quickened the tune,

and the landlord shook

the man in the moon,

"It's after three!" he said!"

I couldn't help but clap as the dwarves cheered but then I had to use my empty salad bowl to deflect biscuits and other edibles from crashing into me and ruining my borrowed dress. I stood up and backtracked, laughing merrily with a hand on my tightening chest. It stung and I pulled my hand away, still laughing and discovered a dot of blood on my palm.

I stopped chuckling and tried to compose myself and looked up at Gandalf who had stood himself up and raised his hands to quiet the sea of flying food and rowdy dwarves...