You couldn't stop shaking, couldn't help but feel that everything was about to fall to pieces. Though you wouldn't readily admit it, you were scared, and though the wiser half of you knew that there was nothing to be afraid of anymore, your heart still pounded heavily in your chest.
Suddenly a large hand settled heavily on your right shoulder, and a low voice whispered in your ear.
"Are you cold, love?" he asked, heavy dark braids spilling over his broad shoulders to brush against the bare skin of your arm. You shook your head in reply, embarrassed when hot tears welled unexpectedly in your eyes. What was it about compassion from others that could unravel your composure completely? As if noticing the change in your demeanor, the king tenderly ran the back of his hand down your arm and crouched lower beside you.
From across the fire, Bofur offered a warm smile from underneath his lop-eared hat but it soon fell and he stared at you in concern.
"Wha's a matter, lass?" came the toymaker's gentle voice over the crackling of the flames. Angrily, you swipe at the corners of your eyes, and offer what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. You could tell it was a bit wobbly though, and though you fought to keep your composure, you could feel your face begin to crumple in spite of your efforts.
"Hey! What's wrong?" a youthful voice called from somewhere behind Bofur. Two heads, one blonde and one brown, poked out from behind where Dwalin and Ori were now standing before the fire. "Uncle! The lass is upset!" Though he meant well, Kili's caterwauling was surely to cause more of a stir that what was necessary, and you quickly got to your feet to make your way to the trees. Perhaps there you could gather yourself and then come back and offer a more composed explanation for your upset. After all, your friends had lost everything to that dragon. Your silly tears paled in comparison.
Sniffling in anticipation of a private place to let loose and cry, you failed to notice a large shape blocking your path until you were practically on top of it. A pair of large, warm hands reached out to grasp you by the shoulders, and you fought weakly to move around whomever was standing in your way.
"Stop this," came the king's voice, and though it was a rebuke, his voice was gentle over your ears. His hands then left your skin and were replaced by the reassuring weight of his arm over your shoulders. You could feel him stooping a little beside you in a vain attempt to meet your gaze. "What's all this, love?" he asked kindly, pulling you closer. "What has you so troubled?"
Much to your annoyance, his simple question succeeded in drawing forth a choked sob, and though you tried to cover it with a cough, it was too late. Thorin knew, and suddenly his arm was pulling you closer and he was there, whispering softly to you as you fell apart in his grasp. He seemed to be waiting for an answer to a question you hadn't even known he'd asked, but try as you might, the tears only fell the harder.
"Come on, come on," he coaxed you gently as he began to walk with you back to the fire. "It's all right. It's going to be all right…" He led you slowly and carefully back to the fireside, where you were met with a number of silent concerned stares from the rest of the company. In any other circumstance, their faces would've been almost comical for despite the supposed courage of dwarves, it was clear that your tears had frightened them at the very least. Thorin sat you in front of the fire and pulled you flush against him as you continued to cry in deep, heaving gasps.
A pair of footsteps tentatively approached the two of you and the warm weight of a woolen blanket was tucked neatly around your shoulders. Just over the sound of your cries, you could hear Thorin offer a solemn, "Thank you, Bifur." before he leaned in close to shush softly into your ear.
You clutched desperately at the thick fur of the king's overcoat, trembling and praying he wouldn't push you away. You valued your independence, but oftentimes you forgot how soothing it was to be held, and so you clutched at him as though for dear life. His large hand came up to trail softly through your hair in long, slow strokes that reminded you of something your father might've done after a particularly horrible dream. All was silent a moment longer before Thorin murmured softly into your ear once more.
"Won't you tell us?" he asked sadly. "We'd like to help you, lass…" The sharp tang of iron against iron made you leap in Thorin's embrace, and you peered out from your place in his fur overcoat to see his nephews looking positively murderous in the firelight, axes drawn and at the ready.
"Aye," Fili snarled. "Who's done what and why?" Much to their confusion, you couldn't help but give a watery laugh in reply and though you did not leave the king's arms, you managed to find your voice, however shaky it was.
"Nobody's d-done anything," you replied quietly, swiping a little at your eyes. Thorin's hand was there once more, this time rubbing soothingly across your quivering shoulders. Fili and Kili almost looked disappointed from where they stood across the fire, especially the latter, who plopped to the ground and spoke the question everyone seemed to want answered.
"What is it then?" he asked, not rudely, but with genuine curiosity. It suddenly felt colder, and your tremors intensified under the king's careful hands. He smoothed your hair once more before allowing you to continue.
"I'm a-f-fraid," you squeaked, cringing at the pitiful whine of your voice. Your admission seemed to take the company by surprise, as thirteen pairs of eyebrows rose high into thirteen foreheads. Bofur, who had since crept over to sit close by, lop-eared had held tightly between his hands, shared a worried glance with his brother, who risked a worried look over his shoulder and into the nearby woods.
"Ye've got nothin' a'fear with us around, lass," Dwalin spoke up from the back of the group, arms crossed tightly over his broad chest. "Ye know that."
"He's right! And you mustn't forget about your own skills as well, miss," chirped Ori as he came forward to kneel a few feet from where you sat curled tightly against Thorin's chest. "I daresay you've made excellent progress in these last few weeks."
"Th-Thank you, Ori," you smiled sadly, "but I'm m-more afraid that _." Another sob tore from your chest at the admission, and Thorin pulled you close once more, shushing softly into your ear all the while. Sounds of dismay, and a few of sympathy, came from various members of the company, and you were vaguely aware of Bofur and Ori moving a bit closer to reach out with supportive hands.
"Ye know ye've got us, right lass?" Bofur whispered hoarsely. "Ye know we want to help ye, right?" You nodded through your tears and reached out to grasp Bofur's hand in thanks.
"Aye, love," came the king's voice low and gentle in your ears. "We've got you. You're all right now. It's all right…." And there, nestled safely in his arms with the warm, protective presence of your friends and the firelight, you thought for a moment, that perhaps he was right.