Gold and Fire – Chapter 11 – Challenges
I am the white dove for a soldier, ever marching as to war
I would give my life to save you, I stand guarding at your door
I give you all that I am
Rob Thomas "All That I Am"
youtube .com watch?v=SxkLxo-yVKs "Find me" Gungor
-September-
Thorin.
"Again?" Thorin groaned. "What is this bewitchment?"
He sat against the wall of his cell, elbows against his bent knees while he took his head in his hands, plagued again by the whisper that only he seemed to hear.
You are closer now, it said with hope. Make haste to me.
Thorin sighed. "And how am I to escape these walls?" He asked, not really expecting an answer.
You will find a way. Thrain found a way when he was held captive.
"My father," Thorin's eyes went wide. "How do you know of my father?"
Thror and Thrain loved me. You will learn to love me when you have seen me again.
"Again? You speak in riddles, I do not even know who you are." The dwarf groaned.
I am in the mountain, it spoke seductively. You have seen me before and when we are reunited, we will be whole again!
Thorin paused a moment, taking in a shaky breath. "Are you… are you Runa?"
I am not. It admitted.
Ducking his head into his knees, he groaned at the unexpected heaviness of his disappointment. He should have known better, how could he have hoped for such a thing to begin with? She had died so many years ago and he thought his heartbreak over her had dulled, but everything and everyone seemed insistent on opening that wound.
I am something far better, for I will never perish, never abandon you as your former love did. I will endure as long as you live and I will sustain you!
Thorin knew it was foolishness to give into the voice and its promises, but he was so sorely tired from running, from struggling against his enemies, from caring for all others while he neglected himself that he could not find it within him to reject the voice.
My love, it lulled, ushering him to sleep. You have carried so much weight and found rest nowhere. You will despair no more when we are together.
Thorin, straining against that last remnant of reason which told him to disregard the voice, believed it.
youtube .com watch?v=OaB3ZoJZlTY "One October Song" Nico Stai
Tauriel's prejudice against dwarves was a borrowed notion from her people and not something she had built from her own experiences. And those experiences had been limited to the Greenwood—though everyone was calling it Mirkwood—forest, despite her desire to see what lay beyond it.
She could not truly hold it against King Thranduil, who had become her caretaker after her parents died, that he kept her from venturing far as she understood it was his way of keeping her safe, but she did not enjoy being confined.
There was a secret part of Tauriel that was satisfied the dwarves had entered their lands, as she might otherwise have missed her opportunity to see what all the fuss was about—and she learned that some of the elves' bias was completely unreasonable.
Of course the dwarves were rude; they were being held prisoner.
Of course the dwarves were unkempt; they had been traipsing through an enchanted forest and were set upon by spiders—and one could not ignore the intricacy of some of their braided hair, another fact resisting the notion that dwarves did not care for their appearance.
Of course the dwarves were oddly shaped; they were an entirely different race! They had their own standards of beauty, such as their beards. The facial hair was a point of curiosity to Tauriel, who was not often exposed to it and had certainly never touched it herself.
There was a red-headed dwarf in the dungeons who had an overwhelming wealth of beard hair, bound by silver clasps and flowing from shoulder to shoulder across his chest. This kind of hair seemed intimidating to Tauriel, but the happy medium between smooth jawlines and the red-bearded dwarf was… well, Kili. What he had was not substantial, but there was stubble enough to make Tauriel curious about its texture…
When had she come to this? What had possessed her? Was she truly allowing herself a moment to question what facial hair would feel like under her fingers? And on a dwarf, no less… She was obviously aware of the magic in her own kin, but was sadly lacking in knowledge of what dwarves might possess…
No. Kili had worked no such spell over her, she knew. It was his fear in the forest that had called out a protective part of her, coupled with his love and loyalty to his brother, which was another point of fascination to her.
King Thranduil had taken care of her at a young age, but never had he given her the same physical affection or emotional foundation that she had seen other fathers give. And with no siblings or mother-figure to call upon, Tauriel had been forced to live without while watching others draw strength from those connections. Maybe this was why the dwarven brothers had so captured her attention; they so openly and unashamedly displayed something she had never had—but had always longed for… and still did.
These were the thoughts that engaged Tauriel's mind when Thranduil's voice called out to her.
"I know you're there. Why do you linger in the shadows?"
She hadn't meant to, but Tauriel had become distracted in her thoughts.
"I was coming to report to you." She answered, because I was lost in my imagination and thinking of stroking the beard of a dwarf wouldn't have been appropriate.
"I thought I ordered that nest to be destroyed not two moons past." He said when she clipped her boots together, standing before him.
"We cleared the forest, as ordered, my lord." She said with frustration. "But more spiders keep coming up from the south. They are spawning in the ruins of Dol Goldur," and then her eyes brightened—an opportunity to leave the forest of Mirkwood had inadvertently come to her, "If we could kill them at their source—"
"That fortress lies beyond our borders," the King said, catching the excitement in her voice and letting her know he disapproved. "Keep our lands clear of those foul creatures." And then in a firmer voice, he added, "That is your task." Not exploring, she could almost hear him add.
"And when we drive them off?" Tauriel pressed her point. "What then? Will they not spread to other lands?"
"Other lands are not my concern." He said blandly.
Tauriel did her best to temper her incredulous expression, but she knew it was plain. How could he be so cold and uncaring?
"The fortunes of the world will rise and fall," Thranduil said ominously, "But here in this kingdom, we will endure."
Now Tauriel understood. It wasn't just her who was being held captive within these walls and the forest, it was everyone under King Thranduil's rule. He had decided that the only way to keep his people safe was to lock them in a beautiful cage, where at least evil could not get in. But, Tauriel moaned inwardly, that also meant nothing could get out.
Nodding her head and turning to leave, Tauriel was halted by Thranduil's voice again.
"Legolas said you fought well today."
Tauriel responded with a smile. What else could she do? It was an awkward statement to acknowledge, let alone answer.
"He has grown very fond of you." The King mused.
She did her best to keep her jaw from dropping, but did nothing to stop her eyebrows from raising. The way the King said it… "I assure you, my Lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than captain of the guard."
"Perhaps he did once." Thranduil said, striding past her to a table and chair. "Now, I'm not so sure."
Was that disgust in his voice? And was he really implying that Legolas felt…
There was only one way to confirm it. "I did not think you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly Silvan elf."
"No, you're right," He answered quicker than she thought was necessary. "I would not."
Tauriel wanted to roll her eyes. It wasn't as though she felt romantically about Legolas and it was laughable that his father would imply it. She could even let the King's prejudice of her inferior elvish bloodlines pass in light of how ridiculous the conversation was.
"Still, he cares for you." The King continued while pouring himself a glass of wine. "Do not give him hope where there is none."
And this was where something in Tauriel snapped. She had been given orders before in the same tone and realized that King Thranduil was forbidding her from allowing Legolas to pursue her.
Of all the elves in that realm, Legolas was the one she knew best and if ever she'd had to make a decision on whom she would choose for herself, she supposed it would be him. But now his father was forbidding even that small amount of hope. Would he stifle her every desire?
No travel outside of their realm. No interaction with any except captives—as her status of Captain, she began to realize, was just another way Thranduil kept her close, kept her "safe". No relationship with the only elf she'd ever really considered.
These thoughts followed her through the halls as she made her way to the dungeons.
youtube .com watch?v=Qb1GSnyFEqk "Words remain (live in NYC)" Josh Garrels
Fili's sense of despair grew when he realized the elves had completely cleaned him out of weapons save for one small blade. They had even discovered the knife sewn into his pant leg. He sat on the floor, elbows propped against his bent knees, and hands fingering the knife edge which was too wide to pick the lock and too small to threaten the guard with.
And… well, he didn't think he could threaten the guard if he wanted to—she had saved his brother's life and guarded over Kili with more gentleness than he himself had endured. He was too grateful to be convincingly aggressive.
"Kili," He called. He heard nothing at first, but then inclined his ear to the barred door and realized his brother was already talking to someone.
"… a fire-moon once," Kili was saying to the red-headed guard, though Fili had to strain his hearing to catch it. "It rose over the paths near Dunland. Huge. Red and gold it was, filled the sky. We were an escort for some merchants in Ered Luin, they were trading in silverwork for furs. We took the Greenway south, keeping the mountain to our left—"
Mahal, was he going to tell her everything? Fili rolled his eyes. But he couldn't hold it against his brother, really. The elf was enchanting, though none of them really would have admitted to it, and they had delved so deep into danger that it was almost a relief to be captured and forced to take rest.
Nevermind the cell, this was a place where they were safe, even though it prevented them from their objective. But Fili had heard Thorin whispering to Balin that Bilbo had not been accounted for and knew that the hobbit would not abandon them.
Fili was suddenly alerted to the presence of someone standing on the ledge across from his cell. It was the blonde-haired elf-prince, and he looked down at the elf-maid and dwarf who spoke together in hushed tones. He was glaring.
With a snort and a laugh, Fili stood, catching the attention of the blonde elf.
"Problem?" He called out to the elf, who didn't look so much startled by Fili's sudden outburst as disgusted that he was being addressed by a dwarf. The elf responded with a turn of his heel and disappeared into the doorway behind him.
Apparently, Fili's shout had alerted the speakers to the elf-prince's exit because the red-haired elf stood and murmured something about returning to her duties.
She rose along the steps of the stone path to pass by Fili's cell and Fili reached a hand through the bars to grasp at her elbow. She stopped, looking surprised by the grip, but not shrugging it off.
This was his moment, the blade was in his other hand, he could easily take her out and rescue his companions… but… just as he anticipated, Fili lacked the conviction to do the deed when he was feeling so indebted. And her expression—she did not consider him a threat and was not revolted by his touch as she should have been—was one of expectancy, waiting for him to speak and giving him her attention.
Mahal, why did she have to be so likeable in comparison to the other elves he'd met?
"Thank you," he finally blurted out. "My brother… he would have perished if it hadn't been for you."
As much as he wanted to add that he owed her a favor, he couldn't bring himself to it. Likeable or not, that was just going too far with an elf.
"It was my sincere pleasure." She nodded.
"It's just…" Fili struggled for the words, but released his hold on her arm. "Why? As much as I am obliged to you, you could just as easily have—"
"All life is sacred." She interrupted him firmly. "Race is unimportant."
Fili lowered his head with a laugh. "I'm not so sure your King would agree with that. But thank you…"
"Tauriel." She offered. "And you are Fili?"
"My brother's been talking about me." He murmured, slinking further back into his cell.
"He has," She said with a raised brow.
Fili knew she was watching him as he sat on a stone bench—the only furniture of the cell—and leaned his head against the wall. She seemed to be considering something and walked out of sight, apparently done with their conversation.
The next sound he heard was the clank of a cell door and shuffling feet, an objection coming from someone's mouth and then steps ascending the stairs again. It didn't much concern him until he saw his own cell door swing open to admit Kili in and then slam shut again.
"Maiden, I could kiss you for such a thing." Kili grinned at her through the bars, but she had already stepped swiftly away, as if embarrassed for committing such an act.
Fili rose and intercepted one of the warmest embraces from his brother he had received in the whole of their quest.
"What was that all about?" Fili snickered when they finally pulled away.
"I might have mentioned that you were in poor spirits." Kili half-grinned. "Though I honestly can't understand why it would matter to her." They both sat upon the stone bench. "Still, I am glad for whatever madness overcame the elf; I knew you were moping up here, taking on more than your fair share of burdens with no Kili to tell your thoughts to shove off."
youtube .com watch?v=IiYWOU9j9w0 "All That I Am" Rob Thomas
The Rings. The time had finally come.
Nur wasn't looking forward to anything in her training, but least of all this. At least she'd become accustomed to obeying orders, and her previous exploits under her commanders had been brutal according to the standards of the common folk. According to those same standards, this would be considered torture.
But it was conditioning, she reminded herself. If she was captured by an enemy, they would be less kind to her than her instructors were going to be. Even so… the Rings…
Gamul stood on a platform built into the side of the mountain. It was a porch of wooden planks, simple, flat, and overlooking the great chasm beneath it. Anyone could fall to their death from this height.
"Nur," he said her name as she strode forward. He had stopped calling her Princess some time ago.
She took a step to be level with Gamul, glancing at the abyss below them, made more ominous by the fog.
"I have two gifts for you today."
Nur's head turned to face him. Gifts? That was not a good thing. He had a way with irony and those terms in the training room never bode well…
"First," he said, holding up a finger. "The masters and I agree that there is not enough time for normal Rings. You will be posted here for one day instead of three."
Her head shot up, glaring at him.
"And the second—" he began.
"There is enough time to pass all three days here." She murmured. "Do you believe I cannot endure it, or is this special treatment?"
Gamul held up a hand. "My belief in you is not what is at stake here. I am under orders the same as you."
"Then you'll honor me with all three days."
Gamul smiled. She had excelled far from what he had hoped in those beginning days of her Akkik training. "I am not authorized to give you more than two."
She gave him a wry smile. "You knew I wouldn't take one, didn't you?" she sighed. "Fine. Two."
"The second gift," he began again, pulling a long, rolled-up cloth from behind him and unrolling it on the ground, revealing a set of pikes. "Normally, the instructors choose the rings, but in this case," he rolled his eyes. "There are certain changes to this practice which the King himself has ordered because of your royal heritage."
So that was the reason for the softening of everything—her father, still feeling somewhat guilty that he'd pushed her far enough to resort to the Akkik, had done what he could to make it easy for her.
But she did not want it to be easy, that defeated its purpose.
"Then you can tell him whatever you like, but he's not here to witness it, and you may choose my rings."
Gamul stepped forward, a hand on her wrist. She shied away from him—she did not like to be touched. There were only three exceptions to that rule and while one of the dwarves was still in training with her, the other two dwarves were travelling afar.
"There are times when that kind of rebellion is necessary, but we must always pay respect to the King."
"He is not my King. I am not a subject of the Iron Hills." She reminded him. "By marriage, I belong to the court of Erebor."
"Which does not exist."
"Yet." She added to his assertion.
They had been through this before and he did not wish to open up the argument again, so he knelt down and peered at the options, glancing at her every now and then to make a choice.
He pulled out the narrowest shafts, curved-spiral etches rounding the metal shoot in decoration. It looked like an arrow shaft to Nur, except that it had no fletching at the end, though it was sharply pointed.
He held the blunt end of the pike to her ear, sizing it to her lobe and nodded, seemingly satisfied. He lowered the pike into her hands and fetched its counterpart from the cloth on the ground.
She rolled the shaft around in her fingers, secretly enjoying that he had chosen one with as close to flowery a pattern as he could find. Not that anyone would really be able to see…
"Lie there." He instructed, a finger pointing to the center of the platform. The flat platform measured a few meters taller and wider than a dwarf, but at a slight incline only a few inches to make it unlevel. Not enough to really let someone fall, but perhaps enough to play games with a weak mind.
Nur lay as comfortably as she could, startled by the chill of the metal that suddenly touched her earlobe.
Gamul raised a small hammer above his head. Clank! The pike against her earlobe penetrated the skin and sunk into the wood beneath her head. Clank! One more hit to ensure the solidity of the pike in its hold.
The metal stung her, but Nur remained still, steadying herself with slow breaths and waiting for Gamul to hammer the second pike into her other ear. Two more clanks and Gamul rose, taking in Nur's positioning and nodding to himself.
Nur had often wondered why he didn't take on more female dwarves for training, thinking at first that perhaps he thought lasses were not strong enough for his teachings or that perhaps there was some sort of prejudice there. But after weeks of studying under him, she understood that though he was a hardened warrior there was still a softer part of him he'd kept for himself.
Once, he'd had daughters. They had been taken from him, but that was all she knew and she refused to ask him about it. It was difficult for him to train females because it reminded him too much of his own lasses.
This was one of those times that was most difficult for him. He stood for much longer than he should have, hovering above Nur, almost protectively. But that would diminish the point of the exercise.
"Be well, Nur. I'll be back in one day."
"Two." Nur reminded him firmly. He grinned, stepped over her body, and disappeared down the trail to the entrance of the mountain.
And Nur was left alone.
Hey, you ;) Happy Monday. Don't expect this special treatment all the time, but I couldn't resist uploading on a Monday :)
Thank you to BlueRiverSteel and SummerAlden for being excellent critics!
By the way, I had someone ask when Fili and Nur are going to be reunited- I promise you that it will be soon (we're at chapter 11, it won't be until chapter 15 or 16) but I've gotta give Kili his moments, too ;)
More this Friday
