Two weeks had passed, and Evangeline was quite ready to be on the road again. Gondor was a fine place, but there was only a certain amount of time any self-respecting hobbit could last in a city of men, what with everyone looking down at those shorter than them and not always kindly. In any case, she discovered herself standing at the edge of the city, waiting for her future traveling companions. Enough time had passed since the last time she saw Thorin Oakenshield that Evie was able to look back on their brief time together with some sort of clarity, as obscured as it was. Her thoughts of him were complex- her memories of how it felt to be close to him, the musky smell of his hair and the thick coarseness of his beard against her fingertips; she recalled such sensations all too vividly. But beyond that pure physicality, beyond the words they exchanged and the heart pounding notion of what she was confident must be mutual interest… When she reflected on their exchange the hobbit felt like she was gazing through an old glass window. Everything was just a little blurry- she could be sure of little except what she recognized on the inside, looking out.
And so, as anyone would be, Evie was naturally nervous to see him again. Yet when he finally arrived, flanked on either side by other dwarves, there was something calm within her which suppressed her anxiety. What was she so afraid of? If anything was to come of their relationship, which she was beginning to doubt it would (how could a dwarf prince become involved with a simple hobbit? Any decent folk in the Shire would have scoffed at the very thought- mostly out of distaste for anything so foreign as a dwarf, let alone a prince), then so it would be. If not… Well, if her destiny was to disentangle from his, she supposed she would have to wait until they reached the Blue Mountains to find out.
None of it seemed to matter when he smiled at her, greeting the hobbit like a close friend. She grinned and returned the gesture, feeling an intoxicating warmth spread inside her chest. She named it goodwill, although she possessed the sneaking suspicion it was something quite a bit more dangerous and powerful.
"It is good to see you again," Thorin told her, his eyes bright. She felt her own light up in response, and hoped her feelings for him were not quite so obvious as she felt they must be. Judging by the curious look on his taller companion's face, she was afraid her sentiments were all too easily revealed to the company.
"Telchar and Dwalin will be joining us for the journey to the Blue Mountains."
He explained, and each stepped forward in turn.
"Telchar, at your service."
The first introduced himself with a polite bow. He was much shorter than Thorin and had a magnificent auburn beard- it was wrapped around itself and braided in many places so that nary a stray hair could be found in the intricate pattern. She thought it very neat- surely he did not get it caught in anything as she had always assumed other dwarves with very long beards must. His brown eyes were well set in his face, peering over his large nose with a merry glimmer.
"Evangeline Took, at your service."
She replied, and the same greeting was automatically exchanged with Dwalin, their other new companion. He towered above the hobbit, and she was struck with a wave of sudden intimidation- for unlike Telchar there was no jolliness about this dwarf. He was tall, stocky, and looked suited to a life of war-making. Part of his head was shaved and tattoos adorned the skin there, making him appear even more the accomplished warrior. There was something about him, whether it was the two axes crossing his back, the iron spikes adorning his gloves, or the tufted fullness of his beard, which made her feel ill at ease. More than anything, however, Evie did not like the way he looked at her; as if she had already offended him somehow. It made her uncomfortable in her own skin.
"My ancestors lived in the Blue Mountains- long ago the dwarves used to prosper in those parts. There are still some who live there, but in small numbers and without any great settlements. My family has known them."
Telchar supplied, clarifying his contribution to the group. It seemed that more than one of their party had a score or two to settle with the ghosts of the past. Evie was glad to have a reason to look at Telchar rather than Dwalin, although she could feel his eyes on her even as she glanced away. The blonde nodded amiably to the shorter dwarf, and he bashfully looped his thumbs in his belt.
"When I asked Durin's Folk of their knowledge of the Blue Mountains, I was referred to Telchar," Thorin explained. "Although he has no great experience there, he was eager to join us and share what acquaintance he has of the mountains.
"Dwalin is one of my oldest and most loyal friends."
The prince added, and the tattooed dwarf made a curt, barely courteous sound in the back of his throat, making little of the compliment. He gazed down at Evie as though inspecting a restrained animal; his bushy eyebrows bordered clear blue eyes which harbored the certain kind of stare which made the hobbit's feet stick to the ground as if she had been caught in a spider's web. Thorin must have noticed her discomfort under the heat of his companion's critical examination, for he gestured for them to follow him and led the group to a small herd of ponies, all saddled up and ready to depart.
"We can leave now, if there are no objections."
Everyone looked to Evangeline, who shook her head, her eyes large and full of the slow realization of her circumstances. They were actually going to the mountains. She would be able to see the Shire, perhaps visit her mother… She had not been back for some time, and although she had thoroughly forsaken her life there in exchange for one far more dangerous and far less stable, a small part of her did miss Westfarthing. The cool breeze as it rolled across the lake at Bywater, the magnificently painted hobbit holes in Hobbiton, the daisies and the wildflowers and the immeasurable, delightful green expanse which was the prize of Tookland… She missed it, she realized now, more than she had thought. Homesickness always seems to strike the hardest whenever you're the farthest away or the closest to returning, the hobbit supposed. In any case, she wouldn't mind seeing the flowers in bloom before the autumn came.
"Let's get on with it."
Dwalin agreed, mounting his pony without hesitation. Evie had learned to ride during her travels and had been given a lovely little pony by the name of Sampson by the people of Rohan. It was a gift of gratitude for helping them eradicate some wayward goblins which had been occasionally venturing down from the nearby mountain passes and preying upon any wanderers or animals who accidentally strayed into their path. She was glad to have completed her quest, and happier still to have received the pony along with a bit of coin and their great thanks. Although she was no accomplished rider, she was proficient enough, and with a well-practiced though slightly comical hop, she climbed atop Sampson and tried on a brave face to avoid the entertained expressions of the dwarves. She might be a bit shorter and she might be female, but the hobbit was determined to prove she was just as strong and single minded as any of them. Well, perhaps not so single minded, she admitted as they began to ride towards the main road leading out of Minas Tirith, immediately thinking about the savory sauce of her mother's cooked duck. She could taste it already, although they were many weeks away from their destination and the Shire would serve only as her reward for seeing the dwarves safely to the Blue Mountains. She would guide them there, the healer decided, and then leave them to agree upon a possible settlement site or to turn back and continue living in the shadow of Men. She rather hoped for the former, but after they reached the foothills of the Blue Mountains, the dwarves were on their own and whatever choices they made were theirs, not hers. While she may consider herself an adventurer, if there was one thing Evie was learning about helping others, it was that first one had to let them help themselves.
.
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They set up camp after a day's ride, and Evie was glad to find a place by the fire as the chill of evening hung low over the plains of Gondor. She stood, rather reluctantly, to go and fetch some supplies so she could cook dinner (Telchar had offered, but the hobbit was of a mood and preferred to keep her hands busy, so she promised him the next day's cooking chore). Rooting through their packs for the proper ingredients to make a stew, she froze when she heard heavy footsteps approaching. The blonde was almost afraid to turn and face him, for she was sure that it was him and not one of the others.
"I… have something for you."
Thorin explained, and Evie glanced over her shoulder at him in surprise, her thin eyebrows knotting together. As soon as she caught his gaze, however, her cause was lost. She abandoned all thought of food for a moment (a very great thing for a hobbit) and faced him full on. She did not know what to say, and luckily he prevented any farther discomfort by holding up a sword, fit snugly within a simple yet elegant scabbard. Her expression was surely incredulous as she looked him over, wondering if this was all some sort of mistake.
"A sword?"
"Yes…" He affirmed, uneasily. "I know you already possess a weapon of your own, but this was the last piece I crafted back at the smith… You have done much for my people, and for me, and this sword is one of the few things it is in my power to give. If you do not want it, I can certainly-"
"Of course I do!" She insisted immediately, her small mouth falling open with an indecision which stood in contest with her polite affirmation, "I just… This is far too great a gift, Thorin, I should not accept it-"
"There are many things we should not do, Evangeline Took, but it seems we are both rather accomplished at ignoring such limits of propriety."
It was the first time she had heard him talk in such a way, and it made her heart knock around in her chest like it wanted to escape her body. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself and reaching tentatively out to take the sword from him. It was a good sized blade for a hobbit, and although he had not said so particularly, she guessed that he had made it especially with her in mind. It was shorter than was the custom of the dwarves, who were also small in stature but not quite as diminutive as hobbits, and who could hold considerably more weight.
Evangeline tugged the sword out of its scabbard and admired it in the dim castoff of the firelight (they were removed from the group, standing together at the side of the campsite and away from the general company). It was simple in design but appeared deadly in purpose. She slid the blade back into place and her fingers dusted over the hilt appreciatively. The hobbit squinted in the halflight, observing runes etched into the base of the elegant hilt.
"They are the dwarven runes for your name."
He offered, guessing at her question before she could voice it. He watched as her lips molded into a sweet smile and felt that small knot of hope tightening in his chest. As much as he feared it, and the consequences it could bring if nurtured, the dwarf prince was not sure he could be rid of it. If he wanted to be rid of it. As painful as the sensation was, it also brought him more secret contentment than he had ever known. He had not been offered many dreams in his life- he was so wrapped up in the affairs of the dwarves, of reclaiming Erebor and making a home for his people… It was not often he thought of himself, or entertained the fantasy of a future as he would make it. Of a family, a life beyond the constant wandering they had been subjected to. Sometimes, when Evie smiled, when her clear grey eyes met his own, or when she placed her small hand in his, he caught a glimpse of it- of a future free from worry and obligation; one where he had found a new start for his people and a new life with her.
It was all far too much to seriously consider, but for once he did not arrest his innocent musings. While he could not pretend there was no harm in what they were doing, equally he could not deny his feelings for her. If she felt the same… Thorin knew what he should do, but it was becoming harder and harder to break away from her. For just one moment he wanted to set down the burden of Durin's line and do something for himself; to claim some perfect, hidden piece of the world that belonged to him and which no one else had bid him to search for. All his life he had known what was expected of him- as sudden and as reeling as it was, Thorin sensed that Evangeline was his chance at something more than that, something better. Something beautiful.
"I will treasure it. Thank you, Thorin."
She told him, and she meant it.
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Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I know this one took a while… I've been really busy this week. ! For those of you who are getting frustrated with the slow build, I'm sorry- I promise we're getting closer! I'm really trying to stay true to my sense of Thorin's character… I see him as a dwarf who knows what he wants (as Richard Armitage has described him) but who also has a deep sense of obligation to his people and a commitment to the legacy and sacrifice of his father and grandfather. So I think there's a lot to work with there and I don't want to miss that opportunity or betray what I see as Thorin's nature. In any case- the next few chapters should come a little quicker- they go together. Sorry for the delays- I'm in my final semester of college and writing a thesis and all that fun stuff. Much love to you all! (Sorry this note turned out a bit long… xoxo!)
