Lindir couldn't help but think that she was quite the oddest creature. During the meal where her fellows had thrown food and stood on tables, singing with all their might, she had sat back and watched not only the chaos but seemed to be taking in every last detail of everything around her, studying it, and committing it to memory. The female far calmer than the dwarven men folk had been when the right hand ellon of Lord Elrond had made his way down the long staircase in order to greet Mithrandir. Her eyes, large, round and bright, coming to rest on him, as he began to speak. Lindir hating to admit it, but he was sure that he had sensed a heat rise in his cheeks, as he felt her continue to stare.

He was sure that she was unusual for a female dwarf; admittedly he knew about as much of dwarrowdams as he knew of any dwarrow........nothing really, apart from the fact that they had atrocious table manners, and that female dwarves were said to have beards and closely resemble their men folk. Yet here she was, beardless, and dare he say, quite, quite beautiful, if there was such a thing as a beautiful dwarf. Lindir having to wonder two things: first, whether she was actually all dwarfs. Though given her strong frame and shapely feminine curves that were nowhere near as prominent on eleven women, it would suggest to him that that might not be the case. And second, why could he not get her out of his head. The dwarrowdam seeming to have found herself this place in his thoughts. And no matter what he seemed to do, there was no getting her out. The ellon hoping that a walk would clear his mind. The kitchen servants already plaguing him with complaints about the depletion of their food and wine stocks; and the Company of Thorin Oakenshield had been in Imladris but one night. Yet as he wound his way through the flower covered terraces that filled the dark air with the scent of night blossoms, he couldn't help but hear something, the sound of a harp and a really quite exquisite singing voice. Lindir feeling drawn to follow it; allowing it to pull him in. The secretary of the peredhel lord, until that moment, sure that he knew every voice in his home; Lindir quickly moving into the shadows, as he finally came upon the scene. Shocked to see that the player and the voice were one and the same person.......the rather odd dwarf.

"Different......is she not........." Lindir almost jumping from his skin at the sound of the voice. Turning to see that his lord to had been drawn in by her, too.

"She.......who is she, my lord...........?" The equerry enquired quietly, as he turned back to look at the singing dwarrowdam.

"Her name is (Y/n), daughter of Thrór; and aunt to Thorin Oakenshield. Though she does not share the mother of Thorin's father. She is said to be the product of a relationship that the old king had with a banished elleth of Mirkwood; the elleth vanishing not long after her daughter's birth, leaving her child with the dwarves. Thrór happily claiming her and raising her alongside Thráin. No one allowed to see her as anything but a true princess of the dwarves, despite her lineage. Even Oakenshield and his men, who obviously have no time for any elf.......even half-elf, seem to show her the same respect as they would any other of their kind. Though it would appear that she inherited certain traits from her mother; she is older than Thorin by many a year, yet still appears as young as his nephews." Elrond explained. His words explaining some of Lindir's questions about the dwarrowdam; yet still there was the fact that he could not get her out of his mind. And more......at this moment, his eyes would not leave her, either.

"Perhaps you should go and speak to her. She appears as though she could do with some company..........." The lord continued. A small smile coming to Elrond's lips, before Lindir found himself pushed out of the shadows. The equerry's eyes widening as the princess stopped her playing and her singing and jumped to her feet.

"My......my apologies, my lady.........." Lindir began, doing his best to not appear so flustered.

"I......I heard your music and came to see who was playing..........."

"If I was making too much noise, I apologise; it was not my intention to disturb anyone. I should have realised that it was getting late. If you will excuse me I will..........."

"No, no........." The dark-haired ellon interrupted, taking another step forward. Feeling slightly more emboldened by the fact that she hadn't just grumbled or barked at him.

"It was more that I believed your playing to be quite beautiful. I like to think I have quite an ear for the harp, as I play, myself. Though I have never heard it played as you do.........."

"Ah, that will be the dwarf in me. I am afraid that dwarven songs are not like those of the elves; yet I have done my best to teach myself some elvish music over the years, and seem to mix the two things together. Though I do not believe that is a bad thing......I am dwarf and elf mixed together and......."

"So.......so you are half-elf..........?" Lindir sensing the tops of his ears burn, as the dwarrowdam laughed at the question.

"That is what my father told me, and I have no reason to doubt him. I was always informed that I am the product of a dalliance with a rather beauteous elleth that had been sent away from Mirkwood and found herself at the front of Erebor, asking for assistance. Not that anyone, despite their dislike for elves, has ever said anything about that. It is one of those little family secrets that are locked away........I am (Y/n) by the way.............." The princess replied, before placing her hand over her heart and bowing in the traditional elvish manner. Lindir replying in kind, before telling her his own name. Sure, that he was finding her more and more intriguing by the moment. The ellon being drawn to her once more, as she retook her seat. A smile gracing her features, as he came to sit next to her.