Jorda's mouth felt dry as sandpaper as her eyes struggled to open.
"There there, lass," a familiar voice said in a soothing tone. Oin. The voice was Oin's. "Don't be too hasty. You've been out fer awhile." A cool wet cloth was pressed against her lips and she felt calmer as she sucked the moisture from it desperately, her eyes still shut.
"There there," the voice said again.
"Oin," she croaked.
"Yes, lass," he answered. "Yer parents just stepped out. They'll be glad yer awake."
She started in alarm. Her parents? She must have been out for a very long time indeed as her parents lived at least a four day ride from Erebor.
The cloth was taken away, and a fresh one replaced it. She was frustrated by being given so little. She wanted to gulp gallons of cool mountain water, her thirst overwhelming.
She willed herself to breath as she focused on taking what she could from the cloth. Her breath steadied her, and she started the old habit of taking stock of herself. She was lying down in what seemed to be a cool room. She was not cold but the air that she breathed in was cool against her nose.
The room was also dark. Although her eyes were still shot she knew the room was dark because she could not see any light filtering through her eyelids. The room was also very quiet. She could hear Oin nearby, he must be only a couple of feet away, and she could hear him scribbling a quill on parchment. They must've found parchment then, or maybe he had borrowed some from Ori.
Right, that reminded her again that they were in Erebor. There had been a battle. It had gone on for what seems like ages. And then just as the White Orc had attacked Thorin, she had stepped in, sliding across the ice and taking the blow for herself. And then there had been darkness and nothing after until now. When she had awoken in this cool quiet dark room.
Remembering the blow, she quickly took stock of her body. She began by experimentally wiggling her fingers, relieved to find that she could move them. She moved up her arms and shoulders. All able to move. Then she began with her toes. Her right foot was able to move easily but she groaned as she tried to move her left leg, a sharp pain shooting up her bone into her hip.
"Oh, no," Oin said. "Don't try to move. I've set the bone and it's begun to heal well, but ye won't be able to move it for nigh some time. Yer lucky you didn't lose the leg, but you're starting to heal well and are going to be alright. I never thought I'd see an injury like this on a lass." He muttered the last statement under his breath.
Jorda was starting to feel more stable and awake, and this time she didn't miss the word Oin used. She paused before croaking out.
"You called me lass," she said, the statement matter of fact, a defeat rather than a question.
Oin didn't answer at first. "Well you can hardly expect me to tend to yer wounds without learning the truth."
"And my parents are here," she added. "So everyone knows." Her eyes were open now. Staring unseeingly into the dimly lit room that she now realized she was in by herself because she was female.
Oin paused again. "Aye, Jorda, everyone knows." Is was the first time anyone from the company had referred to her by her real name. She'd been Jord, son of Gird, son of Vard to them. Not Jorda, maiden of the Iron Hills who had run away from her home in search of adventure. She'd met the company in Bree as they'd begun to prepare for their journey to reclaim their home. They were surprised to meet another dwarf, but they'd concluded she'd been sent by Dane and had welcomed her into the company, along with comments that Dane should have been able to afford to send more than just one to lend a hand to the cause.
And hers were well trained. This hadn't been the first time she'd posed as a male. She'd spent her childhood sneaking out, tucking her hair under her hat, and seeking out adventures. She's become quite a skilled fighter as a result,
Her parents knew, well at least her father knew, and Jorda thought he was secretly proud. She was the only of five children to survive beyond infancy, and her father doted on her. It was even better that she could discuss weapons with him, which was also his livelihood. He made the best war axes in Middle Earth, something he'd hope to pass to his son one day. But there was no son, just Jorda.
Jorda was unable to inherit her father's craft. Dwarrow women had a very clear role, to meet another dwarf, marry, tend to the home, and have children. And Jorda was now of a marriageable age, which was why she'd gone on this last huge adventure, leaving a letter for her parents explaining everything and assuring them she'd return in time to begin the courting season. Soon she would attend parties and events, meeting dwarves, hopefully falling in love with one. Her mother always said love didn't matter, which Jorda found so sad. She couldn't understand how someone could marry without being in love.
But she hadn't expected this outcome of her actions either, resulting in her being found out. And now she had a different problem because she had brought great shame to her family. As a result of her impulsive decision to join a company of male dwarves to fight a dragon, sleep alongside them unchaperoned no less, dance and eat and celebrate beside them, brought horrible shame to her family. They were ruined. She felt sick thinking of what sort of future awaited her now. How would their reputation recover from this?
As though summoned by her thoughts she heard her parents voices outside her door. Oin moved away from her. She grabbed his arm before he got too far and waited for him to put his ear trumpet in. "How did the others fare?" she asked earnestly.
He smiled now. "All well, lass. All well. There were heavy losses on both sides, but all of the company survived. And I understand you are responsible for our king's health. He will not forget that." Oin patted her hand warmly before exiting the room.
She nodded, relieved. She'd grown close to them in time they'd spent together and would have been devastated if anyone had been lost. That was why she'd so willingly tried to save Thorin's life, even in exchange for her own.
A few moments later her mother walked in, followed by the slower gait of her father. Jorda braced herself for the whip of her mother's anger as the dwarrowdam came to her side.
Her mother reached for her and grasped her in a tight hug. "You're alright. Oh you're alright." She breathed as Jorda winced from the tight embrace. She hadn't expected this reaction.
"I'm sorry, Mama," she mumbled into her mother's shoulder. Her mother moved back, allowing her father to step in. He enveloped her in a quick warm embrace. Neither were prone to prolonged physical affection. It had taken Jorda years to realize they loved each other deeply, as deeply as she wished to love and be loved one day, which reminded her of what she'd done to her family. She began to cry.
"Oh Jorda don't cry. Everything is alright now. You're safe, and Healer Oin says you're going to be right as rain soon enough."
Jorda sniffled and nodded. "Yes but the shame. By being found out to be female having spent so much time with males, I've tarnished the family name." To her surprise her mother sat down on the bed again.
"Well, I must admit it was frightened of the same myself. The way you two carry on," she shot a look at Jorda's father. "I should have put an end to it years ago. What a way for a girl to be carrying on. But hopefully you've learnt your lesson now and will put a stop to it. Marriage will see to that. it's all been arranged and you don't need to worry about a thing."
Jorda looked at her parents in confusion. Her mother looked delighted, and her father looked uncomfortable as he avoided Jorda's eyes. "What do you mean it's all been arranged?"
Jorda's mother looked to her father who cleared his throat. "Well, considering the events, I mean, with all that took place …" he mumbled.
Her mother sighed. "Jorda," she began, "King Thorin says he owes you a debt of gratitude for saving his life, although I don't know how a mere girl could save the life of a grown dwarf, but nonetheless we are fortunate that he feels he owes you a service, for otherwise our family would be thrown into ruin by your actions and how you've been carrying on in the company of so many grown dwarves, many of whom were unattached. But the king has made arrangements to honour you, and all will be set right."
Jorda still didn't understand. "Arrangements? What arrangements." Thoughts flashed through her mind. Were they going to send her away? Publicly disown her so that her parents could continue to live a good life without her?
"Now that you are awake, and appear to have your wits about you, not that that really matters in these circumstances, your wedding to Prince Kili will take place as soon as it can be arranged."
Jorda gaped at her parents in astonishment. "My wedding?" she stammered. Her mother nodded.
"To Prince Kili?"
Her mother sighed. "Yes, Jorda, weren't you listening?"
"Parminda," her father interjected, "the girl has only just awoken."
Her mother sniffed, "That's no excuse. Princesses can't afford to be daft, regardless of the circumstances they are in."
"Princess?" Jorda repeated. It was all too much. The confusion settled over her, and she suddenly became very aware of her dry mouth, the aches in her body, the pain in her leg. She began to look around her in desperation hoping to find water or something that would calm her.
Suddenly Master Oin was at her side, offering the wet cloth again. She sucked on it but continued to look wildly around the room. Her parents stared at her in alarm as Master Oin ushered them away from the bed.
"She is in distress, likely from everything that has happened. I must give her a sleeping draught." A vial was procured and pressed to her lips. She only managed to drink it. The medicine worked quickly as darkness crept in from the edges of her vision.
As she passed into sleep, Jorda could hear her mother's voice. "Well, I never. After all that could possibly have gone wrong, you think she would be happy." This was the last thing Jorda heard before falling into a dreamless slumber.