Disclaimer: All the characters appearing in The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings are copyrighted by Warner Brothers and the J.R.R. Tolkien estate. No infringement of these copyrights intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. I write this fan fiction only for love of the The Hobbit and not for profit.
Lying beside my husband, my Thorin and my king, I basked in the glow that a wife knows after a night of love with my soul mate. In the darkness, I studied the rune tattoos that sounded his forearms and tried to decipher their meaning. Dwarven runes were still a mystery of me, but I recognized the runes for strength, courage, loyalty and love. One was in the middle of them all and it appeared to gleam like silver in the bright moonlight shining through the window.
I watched his features look more at peace in sleep than they had any other time during our quest. The slow and steady rise and fall of his chest let me know he was lost deep in peaceful sleep. On our journey, he always had been a light sleep with Orcrist gripped firmly in hand, ready for any possible enemy ready to slay us.
The warmth of his body and his arm draped over me brought me contentment and peace that I hadn't known since my parents had passed during the fell winter. I snuggled closer into the crook of his arm and he turned toward me, pulled me closer and placed a his lips to my brow.
"Ghivashel," he mumbled, still half-asleep.
I turned to find his beard gently grazing my skin, those blue eyes staring at me. I saw the slow smile form as he looked at me and I couldn't resist the urge to run my fingers along his jaw or let my fingers run over one of his braids flowing from his temple.
Thank that Valor that I had this moment and the portents that haunted my dreams hadn't yet come to pass. I my fingers through through those dark waves streaked with silver, letting my fingers trace a scar on his shower bearing a raven tattoo marred by a scar cause by a the blade of a sword in a battle fought in years past. I felt drowsiness settle over me, making my eyes heavy and ready for sleep. I listened to my husband's breathing trying to figure out how we would deal with that which was yet to come. Dread tinged my thoughts as I fell into dreaming, not able to stop the omens that turned my dreams into nightmares.
My dreams contained ice and frigid waters, death flowing beneath ice in the form of pale-skinned monsters with disfigured faces and of bright eyes full of life's fire glazing over with frost from death as my husband died in my arms. I needed something or someone powerful enough to meld reality into one of chosen destiny rather that oppressive fate. Then, I had an idea.