So, it's been a while, but the third chapter is here :) I'm sorry about the delay, I got caught up with school and I took my time finishing this chapter because I wanted it to turn out well. I am so astounded by all the lovely reviews! Did not expect that at all! Thank you so much for all those who encouraged me to continue, you are all wonderful.
Many thanks also to anonymous reviewer Hal who was very supportive and kind (and don't worry! definitely love to rewatch the movie!).
I hope you like this chapter. Let me know :)
- 3 -
The Heart of the Mountain; I had no idea what it could be.
I must confess, I was more than a little curious to find out. So the choice seemed obvious. I did not like secrets, as a rule, and I wanted to know what was so terrifying about it. I decided this would be my last try.
After all, no matter what it was, it could not be more terrible than a dragon.
Living with one had certainly skewed my perception of danger.
It took more than shadows and whispers creeping at the edge of old tunnels to scare me off.
I had to make many preparations if I was to undertake this step, though.
I first led my Father-King to believe I was still searching for a new place to hide. He watched my progress with amusement, for he was convinced he would find me.
I started making bundles of things to take with me on my travels, but I made sure Smaug only saw trinkets, and nothing that would indicate a longer, more dangerous journey.
I could never settle on the day I was supposed to hide, because I could never be sure I had enough provisions with me, enough light, enough warm clothes. And, to be perfectly honest, I was never sure I could leave him.
Deep down, I must have sensed this would be a journey that would keep me away much longer than usual.
I dreaded not being able to come back. I dreaded never seeing him again. For, whom did I have besides him?
But my child's mind still wanted a sword. And when you are nine and bored, you tend to ignore pressing issues. Most importantly, you can't wait to defy authority.
I let Smaug know, finally, that I was going off on my last try.
Before he had even closed his eyes, I was gone.
The way to the Heart of the Mountain was through the abandoned railways in the old mines. At the end of the line there was a very old passage which was sealed off with chains, but someone as small as I could easily slip past them.
These were the deep passages, the ones that seemed to swallow the very air inside them.
Once more, I must stress how stupidly courageous living with a dragon had made me. Most of my years had been spent warding off a living, breathing creature whose eyes glowed gold and whose scales boiled red like furnaces. Cold and dark places, by contrast, were a solace, not a threat.
My eyes were trained for darkness, but I had brought with me one of the larger gems from my Father-King's collection that shone from within so brightly, I did not need any other light. He knew I had taken it but made no objections to it, for he imagined I would light my way through cellars or forges, not the corridors that led deep inside the mountain. I was spoiled when it came to jewellery. There was nothing forbidden in his pile, except the Arkenstone, which he guarded arduously from everyone, even me. He called it "The Heart of the Mountain" only to beguile his enemies, for it had nothing to do with my present destination. The Arkenstone was secretly one of the three prized Silmarili, but that is a secret between me and my Father-King. And now between you and me, too.
In any case, the gem I had taken was a rather charming imitation, one of many such imitations Smaug had furnished to confound any fortune-seekers.
The first true obstacle, however, was arriving at the end of the line.
No one can blame me for lacking imagination; I could not move the railcars for they were rusty and stuck to their joints, but even if I could have, I would not have risked making so much noise, so instead I decided I would climb up and down the railway, on foot, until I reached the end of the line. I placed the brilliant gem atop my head, in the folds of the scarf I had shrouded myself in. And there I was, stumbling and staggering down the railway, sometimes on my hands and knees, other times, gliding down as if on a slide, but more often than not walking on steadily, making sure I did not look up or down for fear of losing my balance and falling down into the dark chasm under my feet.
Sometimes I did look up, if only so the gem might light up the caverns and reveal to me forgotten beauties of a place that was now inhabited only by ghosts.
I kept on at a moderately quick pace, because I knew my Father-King would wake soon.
I did not foresee how tired I would grow, but I did not let it stop me, because I had read in many great tales that knights did not give up when they were hungry, thirsty, or even wounded. They went on, ignoring their own needs, because their quest was more important. Sometimes, the fate of an entire world lay on their shoulders. Now, it seemed to me that the fate of my secret world lay on mine. And what could be more important than getting a sword, so I could be a real knight?
At first, the mines were draughty and dust moats sometimes made me sneeze, but as I got deeper and deeper, the temperature, instead of dropping, rose considerably and the walls looked as if they were newly polished. If you peeked closely, they seemed to be sweating. I began to grow worried. This warmth was not foreign, but it was not altogether familiar. It wasn't Smaug's fire, but it was alive.
Suddenly, I had a sneaking suspicion that there wasn't a what down there, but a who.
My blood ran cold. I was halfway through my journey and I had thoughts of turning back.
But would a true knight turn back?
No, I must continue. Nothing bad will happen. No one, but Father and I, dwells under the mountain. And even if I should meet someone, they might be happy to see a new face, I thought to myself, in an attempt to pluck up the courage to go on. I had brought a small knife with me, just in case. I laid my hand on it. It was strapped to my waist where it lay warm against my skin. I felt better.
I must confess I was also distracted by the size and grandeur of the mines. They were comprised of thousands of pillars rising from the mountain, carved into faceless, terrifying shapes of demons and monsters of old. Some might have been gods for all I knew. The light of the gem cast lugubrious shadows on each. There were stone structures that resembled dwarves crouched either in prayer or hard at work, and I got the eerie sensation they were watching me. One such structure looked like it was holding a giant pickaxe and the railway cut right under it. I almost crouched down, for fear it would take my head.
But I made it safely past these stone guardians.
The end of the line was in sight.
The passage looked like a gaping mouth whose teeth had grown old and grey. As I raised my head and the gem light shone on it, those iron teeth seemed to move, but it was only a fleeting impression. Chains were still only chains.
I crouched down carefully and made sure my dress did not touch the shackles.
I would have to sneak underneath on my knees and elbows.
The gem's light only reached some feet in front of me. Everything was shrouded in darkness.
I still had time to turn around.
I think part of me wanted to cry, but another part of me was ashamed.
What would my Father say if he saw me now? A silly child, gone on a quest of great courage, only to return like a coward, empty-handed.
I had come too far.
My cheeks nearly touched the floor.
Crawling like a snake, I writhed and squirmed down the passage, trying not to touch the chains.
I don't know how it happened, but I lifted my head at the wrong moment, and a sharp edge pierced my cheek lightly. Two droplets of blood glided down the chains.
I shuddered and quickly rolled away.
When I could stand up again, I lifted my hand to my cheek and sighed with relief. It was only a very small gash.
Well, no turning back now, I thought, as I took more steps inside the passage.
The warmth was my only companion. Soon, I had to remove the shawl and put it in my bag. I held the gem in my hand and lifted it up and down the passage, hoping I would see something that would show me where I was going. I felt like I had been walking for a century.
Beads of sweat were trailing down my forehead freely. They were getting into my eyes, blurring my vision. I started to wish I was back in my alcove, but I also felt a little exhilarated that I had made it so far.
It seemed to me I was the first person to walk down this corridor. It certainly felt so.
For who else had dared to go this deep into the mountain?
Maybe the dwarves, but there was something in the air that made me think I was the first to breathe it.
I did not feel so afraid anymore. The only inconvenience, besides the warmth, was the cut on my cheek. I kept dabbing at it with my hand. The wound had not closed up and drops of blood were still spilling down my skin.
As I went deeper, the walls seemed to vibrate, as if a pulse was running through them. I had never heard a drumbeat before, but I believed it could not be very different.
Blood was still falling down my cheek, no matter how much I spat and wiped away. I tried to ignore it, but blood had already fallen on my clothes and shoes and on the ground, too. It was a worrying sight.
After some time, I had to stop and sit down because I was growing dizzy. Blood was still flowing from the wound. The blood loss, I thought. It must make me weak.
I thought back to the chains. They had demanded a price for my entrance. Maybe this was it.
If I had been older, I might have run back. I might have even cried out. But my youth protected me. I was unaware of death, I was too innocent to see that it was standing right before me.
So after some while, I got up again and began walking. I wrapped the scarf around my head to cover my cheek.
Finally, I reached a crossroads. There were three paths before me. Which one was I supposed to take? They looked identical. I had no coin to toss.
I lifted up my scarf and looked at it. Half of it was soaked in blood. I shivered.
I had to lie down, if only for a while. Maybe if I rested a little, an idea would come to me. As it was, I could not decide which path to take.
I sank down and rested my back against the wall. Soon, my eyelids fluttered shut.
You should prepare yourself, my dear journal, for what is to come. I have reached the most gruesome part of my tale. For when I woke finally, I found myself in a pool of blood.
I was very weak. I was feverish. I was dying. Finally, my nine-year old self had understood this much.
It was no longer warm. It was dark. The gem was gone.
And I was surrounded by walls on all sides. The crossroads had disappeared.
As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I became aware of the different shades of darkness. If I looked up, the darkness was...lighter, somehow. The air, too, was fresher from above.
I realized there was no ceiling. I was at the bottom of a tunnel of some sort. I must have fallen through a trap door. I had no other explanation for my present condition.
Then, quite suddenly, there was light.
Flames rose from three pyres which were set into the walls and washed the room in gold. There were no doors, no windows, no exit from this room.
And there, in the centre, a flight of steps led to a stone pedestal, on which was placed a white marble basin. The flames were reflected in its small cracks. It looked empty from where I was standing. It seemed old, older than me, older than my knights.
I crawled on my hands and knees towards the stairs. I cannot explain the pull that this basin had on me, but I had to look inside it. I had to see where my journey had taken me. I left bloody marks on the floor and the steps and my bloodied fingers reached out feebly to touch the marble.
"STOP! DO NOT TOUCH IT!"
The voice had come from inside me. I had not spoken the words, but it had felt like a powerful warning from the deepest recess of my mind.
Yet I wanted to touch it. I was feverish and I wanted to feel the coolness of the marble on my skin.
"CINTA! YOU MUST TURN BACK NOW!"
I turned my head. There was no one in the room.
"YOU HAVE DISOBEYED ME, CHILD! YOU HAVE GONE WHERE I TOLD YOU NOT TO."
"F-Father?" I squeaked, terrified.
"A CHILD OF MINE WOULD NEVER DISOBEY ME. A CHILD OF MINE WOULD NOT BE SO FOOLISH."
"I'm sorry, Father! I-I wanted to prove myself, to be a knight for you –" I stammered, feeling more and more feverish.
"A KNIGHT? YOU ARE SOON TO BE A CORPSE!"
I shrank back in terror and started crying.
"I only wanted to see what it was! I thought you wouldn't find me here!"
"OH, IT WAS LUCKY I FOUND YOU IN TIME, FOOLISH GIRL. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW CLOSE TO PERDITION YOU ARE."
Tears flowed freely down my cheeks, mingling with the blood, washing it away.
"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."
"YOU MUST WAIT FOR ME. DO NOT TOUCH THE BASIN. DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING. LIE DOWN AND SLEEP. SLEEP, FOOLISH GIRL. AND I WILL COME FOR YOU."
"B-but where is it, Father? Where is the Heart of the Mountain?"
I heard my Father-King laugh. It might have been a growl. It might have been both.
"YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN THE HEART OF THE MOUNTAIN, CINTA. YOUR OWN HEART."
My young mind did not easily understand his words. Was it a riddle?
"H-how?"
"THE MOUNTAIN HAS NO HEART. IT NEVER HAD. BUT OH, HOW IT CRAVES TO POSSESS ONE. DAY AND NIGHT HE WAITS FOR THE MOMENT A YOUNG, NAIVE MORTAL LIKE YOU MIGHT COME WANDERING DOWN TO HIS LAIR. AND THEN, HE WOULD SNATCH IT AWAY, FOR HIS OWN."
"That is dreadful!"
"ONE TOUCH AND YOUR HEART WOULD HAVE BEEN IN THAT BASIN. THE MOUNTAIN DRANK FROM YOUR BLOOD AND TOOK YOU INTO HIS INNERMOST CHAMBER. WHERE THE HEART BELONGS."
"Did – did he ever have a heart of his own?"
"ONCE. ONCE, HE HAD A HEART."
Father's voice sounded sad and disappointed. I knew I must have been the cause. But I wondered why his words reminded me of mourning songs.
"I will never disobey you again, Father."
He said no more and I took one more breath before I fainted on the steps.
When I next awoke, it had all seemed like a bad dream. I was tucked into my alcove, warm under three quilts. I had my wooden toys all around me, my jewels, my books. I felt safe.
Then, when I tried to get up, I groaned and fell back in the bed.
I was so weak, I could barely raise a finger.
I noticed I was only wearing my shift. My clothes were laid down on a chair by my side. I stared. They were half-burnt. My eyes widened. I was not seeing things. The hems were charred. They had been on fire.
I soon fell asleep again and dreamt, for the second time, a man engulfed in flames, whose face I never saw. I dreamt he was carrying me far away from the Mountain's chamber. He was carrying me back up to the world of the living.
I dreamt that the stone dwarves I had seen in my path rose and moved away when he came down the railway with me in his arms. I dreamt that the monsters and gods of old sang and laughed and danced wildly around us.
I dreamt and dreamt a long time. And when I was ready to greet my old world again, the half-burnt clothes were gone. Instead, plates and plates of food were lying down by my bed.
I realized I was ravenous. I began eating in a very unladylike fashion, stuffing food down my throat quickly, lest it would disappear.
Tears almost welled up in my eyes. My Father was very kind, after all. For who else had taken care of me all this time? I wondered if he had carried me, like in my dreams. I wondered what he could do when I did not see him. I wondered and smiled through the tears.
Days passed and I felt ready to get up and get back to my old routine. I no longer wanted a sword, but I wanted some answers.
So, plucking up the courage, I returned to the Great Hall.
He was waiting for me, of course. His golden eyes surveyed me with displeasure and sarcasm.
"Well then, the foolish girl returns with her tail between her legs."
I blushed.
"Father, I shouldn't have done it –"
"Now, now, no more of that nonsense. What's done is done. You had a good scare. It might prove useful. You will know to behave now."
I smiled gratefully.
"But. If you disobey me again, I will do much worse to you than the Mountain," he growled, his enormous head coming down to my height. He opened his mouth and blew a powerful gust towards me which almost knocked me down. I swallowed my shriek.
"Is that understood?"
I nodded eagerly.
"Good. As punishment for your thoughtless actions, you will scrub all the cauldrons in the kitchen twice."
"But – but Father! They're all twice my size!"
"Well, then, you had better get to it."
I sighed. "I suppose I deserve that."
He was about to turn away from me, which was my signal that I must leave him to rest, but there was one thing I needed to know.
"Father? How did you find me? How did you know –"
"Your smell, naturally," he replied arrogantly.
"Then...then you could always smell me? Even when I hid in the cellar and in the bedrooms?"
I swear, dear journal, Smaug actually smirked.
"What do you think?"
I huffed. "That's not a very fair competition!"
"Who said anything about being fair?"
"You said I should have a fair chance!"
"That does not oblige me to be fair."
"But one must always be fair!"
"No, little Cinta. One must always be clever. There is a difference. You must learn to be clever."
I frowned. Maybe he was right, but I was not entirely convinced. I felt an idea creeping up on me. A clever idea.
I smiled sweetly. "Father, if I clean all the cauldrons, may I have one last try?"
"What?!"
"Well, I think it would be fair – I mean, clever to let me try one more time."
"Clever?! After what you've done?"
"I would never go back there... you know I wouldn't. I would hide here."
"Here? What do you mean by here?"
"In the Great Hall."
He puffed with laughter. "You think you can hide from me in the Great Hall?"
I nodded my head vigorously.
"You really are a foolish girl."
"You wanted to teach me to hide," I argued with my youth's courage.
"And you wanted a sword, instead," he retorted. "So you never learned anything."
I did not let his chiding words discourage me.
"Aren't you curious to see what I'll do, Father?"
Smaug snorted. "It will be entertaining to see you fail one more time. I grant you this wish, Cinta. But you will get no sword from me."
"No sword, Father. I don't want that anymore."
"Oh?"
No, it wasn't a sword I craved now. It was the chance to trick him and be clever.
I smiled and curtseyed. "I'm wanted in the kitchens."
He grumbled something under his breath about "unruly child", but I knew I had convinced him. And I knew just the place to hide.
But that is for another time. Until next we meet.
