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JEWELS AND DAGGERS
Chapter 9 – Uneasy Night
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"Confusing Happiness" Lo-Fang
Where am I?
Why am I in a bed?
Someone must be coming to join me—who will it be this time?
The anticipation of it was making Runa's heart speed up and a pathetic whimper left her lips without her permission.
"Runa?" She heard, and it shattered her fear of being taken against her will, but replaced it with a fear of the unknown. No, buyers did not use her name…
"Are you all right?" Runa heard again and she jerked to her side, head darting in direction of the voice with wide eyes.
"Thorin." She whispered in such a soft voice that it was nothing more than a breath. Was this a dream? "Hold m-m-me." She begged. It's a nice dream, for once.
Thorin lifted himself from his chair and sat down on the bed beside her, helping her to sit up and winding his arms around her shoulders. If those thick, muscled arms had belonged to anyone else, Runa would have flown into a frantic panic, but she knew these arms. She trusted these arms implicitly.
"Dreaming." She told herself, sliding her hands under his arms and over his shoulder-blades, pressing her fingers lightly into the grooves of muscle she could feel beneath his tunic.
"No," Thorin's warm breath touched her forehead. "I don't know what I can do to convince you—you're never going back to Glor or any of them ever again. You're safe."
It was nothing new for her head to be pounding, but she reached a hand to her temple and felt slight swelling, wondering which of her "patrons" had been displeased with her. Concern was thick on Thorin's face, his blue eyes searching hers with his thick, black eyebrows pressing together.
"This." Runa felt reality sink in around her. "Th-this is real? Y-y-you're here?"
"Yes." He said, still peering into her face, the pain evident in his eyes. Another touch to the muscles at his back told her that her senses were not playing tricks on her.
Runa's heart felt like it would break from happiness, her relief almost painful. "H-h-hold m-m-me." She stuttered again, bending her arms over her chest and pressing herself further into Thorin's hold. The thud of his heart was a consistent beat against her ear, lulling her into believing that this was most definitely not a dream anymore. She allowed him to gather her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her bent legs and her back, and cocooning her in a mass of warm skin under his thin shirt.
She allowed herself to be a lump of flesh, bent and burrowed into his chest, seeking warmth and safety. "D-don't let g-g-go." Runa pleaded.
Thorin's ribs heaved a little and she heard breathy sobs erupt from the mouth above her neck. "I'm not going to." He assured her.
Mahal, thank you for bringing my love back to me. I will never let her out of my sight again…
His fault. That was all Thorin could think as he encased the scared lass in his arms, curled in on herself as though she wanted nothing more than to turn into a block of stone. If he'd taken Runa with him while he ran through the halls of Erebor, looking for his father when the dragon attacked, then they would never have been separated in the first place. She would never have been lost in the sea of faces, never been taken when the men raided their confused masses, never been sold as a slave.
"Forgive me." He whispered into her hair, but Thorin wasn't sure she heard him because she made no answer. "Please, forgive me." He said louder, but in a gentle tone.
Runa nodded, content to stay within the safety of his arms.
Thorin heard the creek of the door and knew that it was Dwalin bringing them food, but the noise startled Runa and she jumped out of Thorin's arms at an astonishing speed, crouching in the corner and looking as though she were searching for something to defend herself with. The sudden quickness of her limbs surprised them both and they froze, staring at her and wondering how to react.
"Runa, it's just Dwalin. He came with me—he and Frerin have been helping me to search for you." Thorin tried to soothe, but he wasn't sure how to approach her and settled for standing a few feet away from her with his arms outstretched.
In came Frerin, wearing a soft look of sympathy as he brushed past Dwalin and approached Runa effortlessly, pulling an arm around her shoulder and holding her elbow in his other hand as though ushering her back to the bed were the most natural action in the world. What confounded both Dwalin and Thorin was that Runa let him do it without a fuss—except for the few times she had instructed Thorin in what to do, she had resisted both his and Dwalin's touch. But Frerin…
Thorin could not hold it against his brother, though—the younger dwarf had always been more compassionate than most, an understanding calm emanating from his light-heartedness.
Setting it down on a table, Dwalin abandoned the plate of food and backed out of the door, leaving Frerin to set blankets over the shaking form of Runa on the bed and Thorin standing helpless at the footboard. He watched the almost fatherly affection his younger brother showed, taking care not to disturb Runa's bruises as he tucked the blanket around her and smoothed a hand over her curls.
"Thorin," Frerin ushered him forward with a hand. "Come here."
On uncertain legs, Thorin inched closer to them, accepting a brush when Frerin held it out to him. Thorin's wavering hand almost dropped it, but Frerin's strong and unshaking grip returned it to Thorin and Frerin looked him firmly in the eye.
"Talk to her. A memory—something good." Frerin looked hesitant to leave Thorin to the task, but they both knew that Thorin must be her caretaker, must win back her trust, despite the fact that it came so easily to Frerin. "But be patient. And gentle."
Thorin nervously swallowed, waiting quietly as Frerin stepped out of the room.
Runa could feel the soft touch of fingers on her shoulder and the pull of a brush through her hair.
"Do you remember that morning, when we were young, when you convinced me to climb that apple tree?" She heard Thorin say, recalling vaguely that Frerin had told his brother to speak to her of good memories, but something was blocking her from reaching for this one.
"No," She answered honestly, her arms criss-crossed over her chest while her hands held her shoulders, lying on her side with bent legs.
The brush paused in her hair a moment and then resumed its soothing motion, sending waves of pleasant sensations through her scalp and down her neck, all the way to her fingertips. No one had brushed her hair in almost two months...
"You told me the best apples were at the top and that you wanted one, but that your father had said girls weren't allowed to climb in dresses." Thorin said, obviously pressing on. "So, you had me do it, instead."
"D-did I?" Runa closed her eyes as the tingling in her scalp continued with each caress of her tresses. "D-did my father really sssss... sssss." Clamping her mouth shut, Runa frowned. She had been ashamed of her stutter since it had started two weeks ago, unable to shake off the difficulty of words that began with an "s" sound. The dwarf behind her seemed to sense her hesitancy to speak and paused again, as though wondering what to do next. But Runa would have none of that. No lingering on the thing she already hated so much.
"Lie down." She said clearly, pleased with herself for pronouncing something without stumbling.
"Runa..." She turned to see Thorin shaking his head at her.
"I-I'm cold." Patting the space behind her without turning around, Runa waited for him. Thankfully, he made no further objections and she felt his weight leaning into the mattress, his heat causing her to sigh in relief when it came into contact with her chilled skin. "B-b-better."
"I don't want to scare you." She felt Thorin whisper just above the top of her head.
"You w-w-won't. Ju-ju-just keep me w-w-warm." Her hand slid behind her and gripped his elbow. "D-d-don't leave."
"I won't leave." He kissed the top of her head. "I promise."
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