Chapter Nine:
It'd been an hour after the incident with the trolls, the company retired back to their camp since their sleep had been delayed. So decided to catch up on the lost sleep, Gandalf said once they had recovered they could go and investigate the supposed troll hoard.
The fire was glowing with life once again, and the company laid their bedrolls around it.
No matter how much Raessa tried, she couldn't sleep. She noticed the Halfling had the same issues as well, and then she decided she would not sleep, yet.
Lady Raessa then sat up and looked at the hobbit, which seemed to be harassing the floor to try and get comfortable, a small chortle left her chapped lips. The hobbit turned around and gave her a meek smile in return.
"Can't sleep?" She asked the hobbit and returned his smile.
"Yes, I can't sleep when these roots keep digging into my back."
"Just close your eyes" She replied "And imagine you're in your feather stuffed bed back at bag end" She let out a yawn. Raessa heard Bilbo huff slightly as he turned onto his back and try her advice.
It had probably been a quarter of an hour; she thought the Halfling had fallen asleep until his voice broke out through the silence.
"It's useless" He muttered sitting back up.
"I know" She sighed
Then the Hobbit said completely out of the blue.
"So how did you and Thorin meet?" Bilbo asked innocently.
She just blinked at him in reply, "Um- well that's a long long story."
"We have more than enough time" He smiled.
"Alright" She said.
Flash back: Raessa POV at 24 years old, the attack of smaug.
I ran down the royal wing, giggling as a raven haired prince chased after me. I suddenly stopped and Thorin bumped into my back, he and I shared the same stoic face as we watched Thorins grandfather flaunting around the treasury room again. Thorin looked a mixture of angry and depressed, I hesitantly laced my hand into his somewhat calloused hands.
I stared into my best friends eyes and offered him a genuine smile. We had been friends since birth literally, we were both born on the same day minutes apart our mothers were the best of friends.
People said it was a good omen that we were meant to be me and Thorin cringed at this idea. But now it seems….
Suddenly the earth shacked beneath me, my eyes widened in fear as the solid stone beneath me cracked from the force of the quake. Then a horrendous ear piercing roar shattered our eardrums, the alarm horns were sounding and cries could be heard echoing from the halls.
I looked at Thorin who looked worriedly at me and his grandfather. We both rushed towards his grandfather and tried to pry him from the room but he wouldn't budge.
I felt like my mind was in a haze nothing seemed real, tears streamed down my face but I didn't feel them. All I saw was fire; I see fire, burning everything. It suddenly came close and that's when I saw it the beast, Smaug the destroyer. I felt Thorins vice grip slip away from mine as I was ambushed by a river of sweating bodies all lunging towards the crumbling exit. Suddenly I felt the pressure of people pushing me forward suddenly stop. When I turned to see why, I wished didn't, crushed dwarfs and blood of splattered gore surrounded the crumbled debris that had fallen from above. I let out a choked sob and marched on forward. I prayed to Mahal that Thorin and his family and her own were okay. I saw the entrance not too far away, I also noticed what I hoped to be my brother limping towards the exit, I felt like my whole world had just been obliterated, everything I knew everything I had learnt had just been destroyed, I had never been outside the mountain.
"RACHEA" I yelled at the top of my lungs hoping my brother could hear me over the chaos, he didn't. So I tried my hardest to make my way towards him, then I saw Thorin sword in hand grandfather in the other sun beating against him fur adorned back looking oh so majestic.
He noticed me we locked eyes, he looked relived. As we fled to the overlook, I saw Dale, or at least what was once dale, it is now a pile of debris, a desolation.
Once we were all near safety on the hill that overlooked both Dale and Erebor, I noticed an army of Elf's watching the scene before them hidden amongst their tree s.
Then I noticed Thorin waving frantically at them yelling for their aid, but the Elf king just stared and rode away. My hatred of Elf's stemmed that day.
I managed to push my way through the crowd, towards Thorin as Rachea my brother was there with him and Thorins grandfather.
From a kingdom of so many, few of us survived the attack. And even fewer of us survived the wandering days. Dwalin and Balin, my other best friends stared at me with the same teary ash covered eyes as many others did. I, Thorin, Balin and Dwalin didn't sleep that night; we walked until our wary feet could take us no more. I didn't know if my family were alive or dead, I presumed the worse, except for my eldest brother who was tagging along with us along with Thorins grandfather, sister and Father. We didn't know where we were walking, we just walked.
Until one weary day we came across a village of men, offering work. Thorin sold his fancy amour so did many of the other dwarfs, so they could buy some food, or just a comfort of a room for a night in a rundown tavern. Thorin managed to snag a job in the local forges, he became a blacksmith. And I became a lowly bar maid. But at least at the end of every shift I at least saw seven familiar faces of my kin again. Thorin visited late at nights in sweat soaked tabby garments. Thorin managed to convince his sister princess Dis to get a job looking after the young ones of the village. As she was still too young for any other job. We managed, we survived, barley scraping by the day. It's sad really, when we were sat upon our mighty gold of Erebor we would have sniggered and pitied people like what we are today. We travelled village to village seeking any work possible.
Years flew by as we travelled in large groups of dwarfs from village to village. One day, Dwalin's sister Kalin caught the wandering flu. The bane of all wandering Dwarfs, it usually only ends in one thing, Death. She was laid in one of the wagons we had managed to acquire over the years of hardship. Kalin looked so weak and frail; she was one of the youngest amongst us. She didn't last a chance it only took two days for Mahal to claim her. Dwalin didn't talk for about half a year, his usual mirth seeped away like his sister. He became the hard recluse of a dwarf we know today.
He used up all his time in the forges and training, we all did, but no one trained as much as Dwalin. He and Thorin became the best warriors any of the traveling dwarfs had seen. Thorin practiced in sword art while Dwalin sided with axes, personally I like a good axe but I can fight with either.
Years flew by, and so did our fun, the days of glory and fun were long gone. Our burdens, our losses are what shaped us to what we are today.
Our true burdens fully awoken at the Battle of Azanulbizar in TA 2799.
I, Thorin and Dwalin helped lead the attack with Thor and Thrain. We tried to get every able bodied dwarf to fight for Moria. Hoping to reclaim it in hopes of slaying the Balrog and living there.
I had never seen so many orcs in her life. They poured over the slope against our charge, an unrelenting torrent of black rippling down like the brooding clouds above. Crouching from a spot by the trees, I drew an arrow back with a strong pull. As I released, the bow shot a tremor up my arm. Fifty or so yards away, a faint thunk and a charging orc suddenly pitched forward into the slope. By the time it fell, I had already nocked another arrow and taken aim at another orc barrelling towards me. Pwft. The orc stopped in its tracks, its face twisting in sharp pain, and then toppled into the ground. I was never one of using a bow and arrow but I had no choice at the time I needed to get to high ground so if being in a tree was what it meant so be it. I felt like an Elf I want to vomit.
They're getting closer. Us dwarfs put up a gallant fight, but the orcs kept coming and coming, The relentless black sea pushed the dwarf charge back, back towards the edge of the valley, nearing the woods. All around me, steel clanged against steel, blade squelched against hot red flesh, and ferocious battle roars mixed with unbridled screams and howls of pain. The hibernal earth, parched in the dry winter air, now soaked in brown-red blood and sinew as foe hacked foe into the ground.
Suddenly, a goblin leaped before me, gnashing gruesome teeth. He thrust a mottled blade at my head. I Ducked and then lunged forward, slashing his right shoulder. A spurt of blood splattered on My tattered armour. I spun quickly around and cracked her sword's pommel against the base of the goblin's skull. He crumpled to the ground in a limp heap. I then Noticed Thorin fighting a couple of yards away from me. I fought my way towards him slashing and hacking anything daring to come in my way. I stood back to back with Thorin and together we fought anything that dared come in our way. Thrór was on our right; he quickly turned to Thorin and gave him a ring, before he marched off the face the largest palest Orc on the battle field, Azog.
I let out a blood curdling scream as I watched Thrór's head come off in one slice of Azogs rugged blade. Thorin let out a string of words in Khuzdul as he charged forward towards the filthy creature.
"Thorin, NOOOO" I screamed as he was knocked to the ground his sword flung away from him, I watched in horror was Thorin used only an oaken branch as a shield.
I let my guard down for too long as a goblin slashed at my legs making me drop to the ground, Thorin upon noticing me cry out in pain must of got a new bound of energy as he slashed off Azogs hand and part of his arm making it howl in pain staggering away, Thorin made his way slowly to me.
"Im fine" I said wiping blood from my mouth standing up, Thorin nodded once and we rallied the dwarfs and pushed the Orcs and goblins back.
The battle soon ended without the goblins and orcs leaded Azog, but no celebration occurred that night no feast no songs. For our death was beyond counting. That's when I saw them; Frerin lay slain with my brothers beside him. I dropped to my knees before them and sobbed, that's when I saw my fathers decapitated head, I hadn't seen him since before smaug's attack and now, now he's.
Dwalin, dropped down before me as did Balin, we all huddled together and cried. I looked up and Thorin stood on a raised up part of the battle field staring off into the mass of dwarfs stood as kingly as ever with a stoic yet majestic expression on him. He was searching for his father. I heard Thrain was slain, no one ever found out. As we scoured the fallen yet his body was not amongst them, we presumed he was dead or taken captive it broke Thorins heart. His brother, his father, his grandfather and friends we all lost them all.
We had never been the same Dwarfs since.
_
Years passed as did decades, and dwarfs resettled in the Blue Mountains.
Thorin became Lord of Ered Luin, and I was somewhat back to a Nobel lady. But life was hard, rations were made, farming was impossible and famine and disease was common. Until a well-known famous miner, Bofur hit a strain of gold while mining so we prospered for a small time.
But as winter came around again more dwarfs died from starvation and poverty. Indeed life was hard and a smile never adorned a dwarf's face. Dis' baby sons Fili and Kili grew sick. And we feared the worst. But as spring came back around they pulled through and grew up to be healthy dwarfling.
I couldn't stand the poverty and death so one day I left.
I bought a pony and travelled, until I came to a place called the shire. Queer little folk lived there, and when I stopped for questions I met a lovely woman named belladonna. She helped me find my way to Bree and she also gave me plenty of lovely food.
I lived in Bree for two decades, working in the prancing pony and sometimes in the forges.
But the raven haired prince, Thorin wouldn't leave my mind. For two decades he lingered in my dreams, thoughts and mind. I needed to see him, so when I rode back to Ered Luin I saw my prince, but he was being tailed by many other women. One of them caught sight of me and scoffed, I knew her from when we lived in Erebor her name is Farona. A Nobel lady such as myself.
She glared at me and then smirked as she placed a kiss on Thorins hair face. I stopped dead; Thorin and I locked eyes I fled from Ered Luin never to return.
A decade later, in bree. I heard a new blacksmith was in town. I went to inspect only for a choked gasp to escape from my slightly chapped lips as an all too familiar face came into view.
"T-Thorin" I said gasping.
"Raessa" He said in the same fashion.
We spent 6 months together and it felt like the golden days back in the glory of Erebor. It wasn't to last, Thorin had to go back to Ered Luin. He wanted me to follow. I refused to step back into that death trap. Our only source of contact for years was through letters, Until they stopped.
Then I got a letter from Farona claiming him to be dead.
Until he and an a grey robed pilgrim entered my bar in TA 2941.
Raessa told Bilbo many stories that night of her life. And soon they both fell asleep.
What Raessa didn't know was that Thorin was listening to them all and now he was the one that couldn't sleep.
