AN: Thank you very much for the reviews, I always love getting feedback on my stories and I couldn't be more pleased you like Flora – she's a feisty little one!
As to the question on who our Hobbit heroine is going to end up with, well there may be just a very large hint in this chapter.
P.S. I've made a tumblr page for my fanfictions. Check out .com for chapter previews and other works.
XxX
Flora still hadn't spoken a word by the time Dori happened upon a cave later on that afternoon, hobbling along behind in silence as they descended into the putrid darkness. The magic Gandalf had worked on her had been miraculous though she still felt a little stiff.
Thankfully Dwalin had enough sense to bring a torch and they quickly realized it was the trolls' cave, nearly stuffed to the brim with treasure. Bilbo tried to get Flora to help him examine some of the Elvish runes on the weapons but she simply turned away to skulk off in search of solitude.
It was finally Gandalf that managed to get her to speak.
"Mistress Brandybuck, if you please," said the wizard, beckoning to Flora across the fire that evening. Rather than trying to move on, Thorin had decided it'd be best if they stayed in order for everyone to recover from their encounter with the trolls. Flora had busied herself with trying to sort out everyone's belongings, everything having been trampled or tossed about by the monsters.
Silently she moved past the rambunctious Dwarves who had broken out their instruments in an attempt to write a song about their adventure. Ale had been found by the barrel full in the cave and Flora had a sneaking suspicion that it had been a contributing factor to Thorin's decision to relax as the broody prince sipped a mug near the edge of the fire.
"I know you will make better use of it than your cousin, and I hope that the next time you encounter danger that you will at least be able to defend yourself."
He handed her what was unmistakeably a small sword in a dirty sheath. Drawing it, she couldn't contain her gasp as it slipped from her mouth.
It was a fine Hobbit sized sword though she suspected it was, in fact, a dagger for meant for someone much larger than she. The blade was of the smoothest steel she had ever seen, Elvish runes trickling down the gently curved blade gracefully that glinted dangerously in the firelight.
"I can't take this," she said, sheathing the weapon and offering it back to Gandalf. "I don't deserve it."
The wizard sighed.
"Flora Brandybuck, it was by no accident that you happened across our company at Bilbo's that night in the Shire. I have no doubt you are here for a reason, the same reason I was compelled to select your cousin as the burglar."
Flora frowned and turned away, afraid her face would betray her shame at how stupid she'd been but she felt Gandalf's large, comforting hand on her shoulder turn her back to him.
"Do not be sorry for what you did – it was incredibly brave and you should be applauded for your courage in trying to help."
"Thorin doesn't think so," she muttered, the look of hate that had been on his face surfacing in her memory. "I'm an idiot."
"Thorin is great but he is also a fool, and you've done nothing but try to prove your worth – in which I believe you have succeeded. Now, stop pouting. Your father would be most disappointed to see you acting like a spoiled little Baggins."
Flora couldn't help but laugh at the expression and with a grateful smile beamed up at the wizard.
"Thank you, Gandalf," she said, feeling her pain ease. "And thank you for whatever it was that you did earlier. I'd be dead if it weren't for you."
Gandalf waved his hand dismissively.
"It was my pleasure, my dear. Now, do go take care of that sword of yours – it is in desperate need of a good cleaning. Any Brandybuck would be ashamed to carry such a weapon."
With renewed vigour Flora stood and went to obey her friend, snatching a handkerchief from Bilbo's pack. The male Hobbit, far too enthralled with sharing songs from the Shire with the Dwarves on the other side of camp, failed to notice despite his deep affection for his handkerchiefs.
As she was cleaning her new sword she became lost in the task and the joyful, humorous music. So much so she nearly didn't notice Thorin took a seat next to her on a rock.
"Is there something you need?" she asked sharply, not veiling any of her displeasure at his presence. To her embarrassment, her face began to warm under his scrutinizing gaze.
"I am surprised you were willing to try and save the ponies yourself," he said, ignoring her tone.
Flora didn't speak.
"Thank you for what you did."
His words surprised her so much she nearly dropped the small sword, but Flora quickly recovered and resumed her work.
"I only did what was right. Besides, it was Gandalf who really saved us."
"My nephews informed me that you obeyed their foolish command without complaint. Your willingness to put your life in danger for the company, twice now…. it is not what is expected of you."
"Expected of me? Pray tell, Oakenshield, what is it that is expected of me?" Flora sneered, practically hissing his name as her temper flared to life. The lack of sleep had run her nerves raw and she had no patience left in her. "To run and hide when a friend is in danger? To cower like a frightened child in the shadows while I wait for some hero to ride up and save me? If that is your impression of Hobbits – of me – then you have much to learn."
At that, she stood and marched off towards the nearby stream to freshen up, the filth of the trolls still lingering on her skin finally driving her mad.
All the while as she scrubbed her bare arms with the cold water her rage burned. She may have acted foolishly the previous night, but how dare he assume she was some cowardly little mouse without knowing a thing about her? She was a Brandybuck, Gorbadoc Brandybuck's daughter, and she would not be bullied about by some pompous, overgrown child with nothing better to do than insult her.
"I did not mean to offend you, Hobbit," growled Thorin, making Flora jump. She had not heard him approach.
Setting the handkerchief down she peered up at him.
"Just because I am not a Dwarf doesn't mean that I don't deserve the same respect as your kinsmen. The same for my cousin – he has more heart than all of you combined and yet you still insist on treating us as though we are no more than a burden."
Thorin simply stared at her in silence, clearly shocked at her brazen words.
"I don't expect you to apologize, your highness. I just ask that you treat us with the respect we deserve."
"Perhaps I will treat you with respect once you've earned it!" exclaimed Thorin.
She laughed, unable to believe her ears.
"Please tell me, then, what I must do to earn your royal arse's respect!" Flora shouted. Just beyond the trees the camp had fallen silent a few moments before to listen in, though neither of them noticed. She rarely swore but the Hobbit had never felt so angry in her life and the rough language gave her courage enough to stand toe to toe with the angry prince.
"Should I have strangled the trolls with my bare hands? Wrestled the boar with nothing but a rock to serve it up on a platter? Or maybe I should bow and scrape and kiss your boots, since that seems to be what you expect of everyone you encounter?"
"You would be wise to watch your language with me, churl," growled Thorin.
"Or what!?"
For a moment, Flora feared he actually might strike her but he instead he grabbed her to toss her over his shoulder. She shouted more curses as he marched to the creek, and howled like a wounded cat as he dumped her in before stomping back towards the camp.
She just sat there, completely stunned. That Thorin had actually just thrown her in the creek was far too much for the Hobbit to comprehend when combined with the events of the day and, to her shame, she felt herself break down into quiet sobs as the cold water soaked her clothes. When she finally returned to camp she was hurt to see no one dared to meet her eyes. It was all she could do to hide her angry tears as she crawled – her mop of curls still sopping – into her bedroll next to Bilbo.
But for all her exhaustion and stiffness, sleep still would not come.
XxX
The entire group was anxious for the next few days. In addition to the ponies having fled, the tension between Flora and Thorin was palpable.
The morning directly after the fight, the prince had been still so angry he practically threw his belongings about as he packed – as well as anyone else's within arm's reach. The Hobbit, on the other hand, had recovered from her dip in the river and was so enraged that she burnt Thorin's breakfast until it was an inedible piece of charcoal that bore some resemblance in shape to sausage.
Flora didn't regret what she'd said, having meant every word of it. She thought Thorin was arrogant, rude, and disrespectful. Not to mention she despised his foul temper which he insisted on taking out on anyone who dared speak to him. No one was spared his wrath, not even Gloin when he had simply offered to take the first watch one evening.
The rest of the Dwarves tried to make light of it, and Gandalf appeared not to notice. If he did, he simply didn't mention it and traveled with the company in his usual manner, sometimes disappearing for a day or two to suddenly re-appear magically.
Bilbo, other than Flora, was most strongly affected by the tension.
"Thank you," said Bilbo as he and Flora trailed along behind the Dwarves one day.
"For what?"
"For standing up to Thorin."
"Oh," said Flora, her eyes flickering ahead to where the subject of their discussion was marching far ahead in the front of the group. For a moment she thought she saw him glance back towards them, but she doubted the Dwarf's hearing was that good.
"It was nothing."
Bilbo shook his head.
"Listen, Flora. I…. I think you should apologize."
She stopped dead in her tracks, her face flushing red.
"Pardon me?"
"I said," said Bilbo, pulling her by her coat closer as they saw several of the Dwarves look back, "I think you should apologize to Thorin."
Flora scoffed.
"When pigs fly."
"Please, hear me out," urged her cousin. Looking at him, she saw just how serious he was and felt herself soften.
"We are only on this journey because he let us. Now, I might complain about going home but I would much rather not have to worry about going home in once piece. Gandalf isn't going to always be there to save us and whether we like it or not Thorin is in charge."
The female Hobbit sighed heavily, his words hitting her hard. Bilbo was right – if they were in trouble and Gandalf wasn't there, Thorin would have no qualms leaving them behind. Unfortunately, their survival counted on them being in his good graces and upon realizing this Flora felt incredibly selfish. She had absolutely no desire to put her cousin in even more danger than they were already in simply by being on this adventure.
"I will try," she said softly.
"Good!" said Bilbo, smiling warmly and patting Flora on the shoulder.
When he looked away, she couldn't help the frown that clouded her face. Her deeply wounded pride wrestled hard with her guilt and worry for Bilbo. Thinking the Dwarves were beginning to rub off on her – in particular, Fili and Kili – she thought of how Thorin had wounded her honour as well. She may not be a tried warrior, born to be in the heat of battle with fire in her blood but she still felt as though the way he treated her was unfounded. From what she had learned from the rest of the Dwarves, women were very much respected among their people as there were so few so it wasn't because she was female.
Flora couldn't help but sigh again as she wondered if he really just hated her.
XxX
It took two more days for Flora to sum up the courage to approach Thorin and another cool night by the fire.
Flora had just begun helping Bombur to cook dinner for the evening when Bilbo spoke up.
"Do you have any stories about Erebor?"
"There is only one tale we tell of our lost city since its fall," said Balin, Flora listening as she stirred a large pot of stew.
"Erebor, for all its gold that ran like rivers and jewels as numerous as the stars, had grown too proud. Thror, the King Under the Mountain, had become ill with his love for gold. His lust for it poisoned the mountain, and drew Smaug the Destroyer from his home far away. In a rush of wind and flame he came, setting fire to Dale and gutting the Lonely Mountain to take its treasure for its own and slaying many. Our people had been abandoned by our Elven allies, left in the midst of battle to face the beast on our own and we were left to wander, seeking out a new life at defeat by the fires of Smaug. Our people wandered, moving to other kingdoms and Thror became the King in Exile and Thrain disappeared. When we had gained enough strength to make an attempt to take back Moria from the Orcs and Goblins that infested it's once grand halls, King Thror led us into battle.
It was a bloody fight, and in the middle of the battle swinging a great club was the monstrous Azog the Pale Orc, who had sworn to destroy the line of Durin. In the rush and flow of the battle Thrain faced Azog and fell, and so arose a young prince, determined to give his people a home again who charged the Pale One and inspired his warriors to rally. They fought furiously but the prince's shield was not strong enough to stem the blows from the mighty Azog's club and was shattered. Instead, he took up the thick branch of an oak that was as strong as any mighty Dwarven crafted shield and deflected the Orc's attack, allowing the prince to land a mortal wound on the beast and leading his people to victory."
Flora looked up into Balin's dark eyes, and saw them move to stare at the lonely Thorin who sat in watch at the edge of the camp. His back was to them, though she had no doubt he was listening to every word.
"It was in that day that the young prince became Oakenshield, a grand warrior and one that I could truly call my king."
She felt as though she had been punched in the gut, the song that the Dwarves had sung back at Bag End suddenly surfacing in her memory along with the sorrow, the pride, and the deeply rooted hope the Dwarves had for returning to the Lonely Mountain that Flora herself had felt in her very bones.
She was moved.
Bombur cleared his throat in an attempt to gather Flora's attention, not realizing she'd been staring at Thorin and had halted her stirring. Blushing, she quickly removed the boiling pot and dished each of the Dwarves out a bowl before taking the last one and filling it to the brim.
Hands clammy and slightly shaky she stood and moved towards Thorin. He still hadn't moved from his spot after Balin had finished his story and appeared to be so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice Flora.
"I brought you dinner," she said quietly, offering him the bowl.
He looked at her with a vaguely shocked expression, his calm brows arching in surprise though he said nothing.
"It's not poisoned, if that is what you're thinking."
"I cannot lie and say it wasn't a concern," said Thorin with what Flora could have sworn was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Accepting the bowl, he quickly consumed its contents
"I… I want…."
"Yes?" said Thorin, setting the bowl down.
"I want to apologize," she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. Much to her shame, the pink blush from before returned to heat her face which only increased when she saw the smile on the Dwarven prince's face.
"Is that so?"
Mentally, Flora cursed him, wondering why he was making it so difficult.
"Yes, it is so. I should not have insulted you the way I did. I am sorry."
"I apologize as well, Hobbit," he said, shifting over on his log to make room for an astonished Flora. For a moment she didn't move but then realized he wanted her to join him. Sitting down, she perched herself as far away from him as she could while still actually being on the log.
"The way I treated you… was not becoming, nor honourable."
"Apology accepted," said Flora with a smile. "I also wanted to say – well – just how sorry I am."
Thorin's smile was gone once more.
"For what?"
"For… everything," said the Hobbit, looking down at her feet. "Erebor, your family…"
"Ah."
Flora looked over at him, copper ringlets half curtaining her face. She flushed again when she realized he seemed to be studying her with his impossibly clear grey eyes.
"You are not what we – what I expected," said Thorin, turning his gaze back to the sky. "And before you lose your temper again, I mean that you ar – that you and your cousin are made of a much sturdier stock that I had anticipated."
She nearly did lose her head again at the mention of her temper, but quelled the anger before it could bubble up and ruin the fragile truce they'd reached.
"Thank you?"
"Do you know how to use that?"
"What – oh, this?" said Flora, holding up her small sword. Her pride wanted her to say yes but just this once she swallowed it.
"No, I don't. My family hardly approved of my learning to use a bow, and I don't think there's been a Hobbit with any sort of skill to speak of since the Battle of Greenfields."
Thorin took the sword, pulling it from its sheath to examine it closely. He peered at it in the light, lifting it to examine the slightly curved edge and frowning at the Elven markings. Seemingly satisfied, he slipped it back into the sheath and tossed it back to Flora.
"Your people are very peaceful," he said plainly.
"Very," said the Hobbit, looking up at the stars. "We hold no desire for power, or wealth – just to live fulfilling lives in whatever we find joy in. Unfortunately that more often than not means food, drink, or sitting around at home."
"You sound as though you disapprove."
"I don't disapprove, I simply don't agree," sighed Flora.
"Something you do often, I am learning."
Looking at the Dwarf she prepared to reprimand him but stopped when she saw the smile on his face. She could scarcely believe her ears – he was teasing her!
Flora laughed softly.
"Why lock yourself up when there's so much of the world to see and experience? I haven't been as grateful as I should have been. You've given me the opportunity to escape it, to see the world. You've given me life, your highness, and I will always be thankful to you and your companions for it."
They fell into a comfortable silence, many of the company having gone to bed early with such full bellies. Flora supposed they also felt more at ease with she and the Dwarven prince having reached a truce rather than treating each other so horrendously. However, this meant that she was left to handle cleaning up.
Securing her sword back in its she stood and dusted herself off before turning to the camp.
"Thorin."
"Pardon?"
Looking back, she saw the Dwarf was watching her.
"Please, it's just Thorin."
She smiled.
"Then you must call me by my name. Good night, Thorin."
"Good night, Flora."
