Last night had been a difficult one. Through the goblin tunnels they had lost most of their supplies and gear. Not that it had been Ali's first night sleeping on the dirt, but it might have been the worst. Bilbo and Bifur had taken up resting on either side of her for warmth, each passing out quickly from sheer fatigue. Ali on the other hand just couldn't. Unable to lie on her left side entirely, or even on her back or front she was forced to try and curl up against Bilbo as if nothing was wrong. Everything hurt though, leaning too far forward pulled the skin tight on her back and burned, leaning forward brought her in contact with Bilbo and stung, even just breathing too deep pulled on wound.
Then there was her head, oh sweet caramel apples was it throbbing. Could she blame it though? Ever since she landed here in…well this place, she should really ask soon, but anyways, how many times had she hit her head? Too many, that's how many. Ali didn't have the brain cells to spare as it was, yet she had been losing them like coins in a slot machine.
Not to mention Thorin, as if their strange relationship couldn't get any stranger at this point. Every time she glanced over he was glaring at her, not even just the 'hey I'm mad at you' kind of glare, more like the 'you god damn annoying mosquito, could you just shut the hell up' kind of glare.
So before Ali could find solace in sleep the sun was beginning to fill their small camp with ambient light. Body still heavy from lack of rest Ali closed her eyes and pretended to sleep as the camp began to move around her.
Quietly the young brothers spoke of what their next move should be to find a more filling meal for the next night. The fire began to crackle to life followed closely by the smell of Bombur's soup warming back up. Normally not an unpleasant smell, today to tore at her nose, and bile rose from her stomach.
"Lad, how are ya fairin'?" Oin rumbled across the clearing.
"I'm fine, no lasting damage was done," Thorin answered quietly.
Of course Thorin would be fine, Ali thought, she was just being winey. There was a good chance that her bite was not as bad as it felt either, that's how most injuries were anyways. Beside her someone moved her hair out of her face, surprised Ali's eyes snapped open. Bilbo smiled at her, but looked back at her forehead.
"Good morning, looks like it was only a small cut at your hairline," Bilbo mused softly, still partially asleep from the sound of it. "Should be alright."
The rest of the morning past quietly, as the dwarves woke slowly in the warming sunlight. Bombur handed out food which Ali took but disposed of as quietly as possible, before taking up her place on a log to watch the others. It was the only distraction she could find from the constant searing pain.
Across the small clearing Thorin kept a watchful eye on Ali while still paying attention to what the others were saying. Yes, they were closer than they ever expected, Balin was saying. Yet Ali disposed of her food without touching it. They should in fact begin their trek soon, he nodded in agreement to Dwalin. Was she favoring her left side, or was that his imagination? Yes Thorin was all too distracted today, he nodded again to Dwalin as Ali moved to sit on a fallen log.
"What?" Thorin reversed to the last thing he had half listened to Dwalin say.
"What's ah matter with ya today? Ya done nothin' but stare blankly since ya woke," Dwalin grumbled, eyes darting to spot any possible hidden injuries.
"I think Ali's hiding something," Thorin lowered his voice so they were not overheard.
Dwalin snorted trying to hide laughter, "ya think?"
Gandalf leaned forward, lowering his voice as well, "there is much yet to be revealed about our little tourist. You must wait till she is ready to share."
Wait? Thorin watched as Ali nodded to something Bilbo was saying, her usual smile barely gracing her lips. He didn't want to wait, he wanted to walk over there and demand to know what was wrong. Perhaps that was another woman thing though, like fine.
When they stopped for the night Ali thanked her lucky stars since she was beyond exhausted. Everything hurt, her feet felt as if they were stuck in cement blocks, and her thoughts were coming across more as static. What she needed was sleep Ali determined, it was just the lack of sleep from the night before that was getting to her. As they stopped she sunk down onto the first clear patch of ground. During the day the temperature had dropped considerably, leaving her with shaky hands and a cold sweat.
With only her sweater as protection Ali pulled up the hood and curled in as far as her wound would let her. There was a good possibility that once Bilbo was tired he would sleep next to her so that she didn't freeze to death.
Those were her last thoughts as her consciousness slipped away.
Ali was shaking when she woke the next morning, it had become even colder over the night. Still groggy she sat up, the rest of the company were already shouldering their bags. Did they not plan on waking her? Were they going to leave her behind again? Her usual panicked feelings were suppressed under what felt like a static blanket covering her mind.
Standing slowly Ali found Bilbo already beside her. Forcing a smile no matter how weak it must have been she fell in silently with the others, in fact this day everyone was silent.
As the day progressed Ali was less and less aware of what was going on around her. The trees were a blur as they passed, she felt as if she had engaged warp drive. Fragmented shards of reality brought to her consciousness in moments of searing pain.
Bilbo yanked her hand as they traveled past an oak, fireworks exploded across her vision. They had fallen behind, numbly Ali picked her pace up at Bilbo's urgency.
Cruel shards splintered into her chest as Ali felt moss brush her face. Moving automatically her fingers felt only the slightest of brushes against the dirt. Bilbo's face scrunched with concern, Fili whispered something in her ear as he lifted her. Ali didn't hear what he said.
Cool serene air warmed her face. Ali's head lolled around to see Fili speaking with Bilbo. Their words foreign. Body no longer moving with her discretion.
Bilbo spoke with urgency that Ali didn't feel. Felt as though this body was lead and helium. Confusion peaked with disinterest. Lights and shadows. No pain. Serenity. Chaos.
Wood, beams, animals, door. Portal to another safety. Fairies bathing in sleep.
They had barely made it into the house, door secured against the bear. Thorin didn't look at his surroundings, in his arms Ali had begun to mumble something too low for him to understand. His nephews pulled a bench out quickly, before moving off to gather things for Oin.
What had happened? When had this begun? Thorin gently laid Ali's limp body on the wood, barely registering Oin fussing around the other side. How had he allowed her to get to this state? Dark hair matted to her face and neck from a cold sweat, eyes glazed over she continued to mumble nonsense. Softly Thorin touched her cheek, Ali didn't look his way, didn't register him at all through her fever.
"Lad," Oin grumbled. The look he had told Thorin that this was Oin's time, and Oin didn't have the patience for his sentimentality. So Thorin moved, not far though.
Beside him the boys had brought water, rags, and one of the few remaining bags they had grabbed from the goblin tunnels. From it Oin produced a blade honed so sharp it could cut the skin without being felt at first. With a skilled flick of his arm Ali's sweater was sliced up the front.
"Hey in't tha' Ori's scarf?" Gloin recognized at once, being the only one married he was skilled at recognizing new clothes.
Though it was almost completely ruined, what was once blue was now a burgundy, crusted across her chest. Thorin recognized it as one such as those they had tried to give him.
"Why!?" Thorin's fists gathered Ori's own handmade sweater, lifting the dwarf to his toes. "Why did you help her hide this?" Anger boiled over in his body, his hands shaking.
Just as quickly Dori and Nori were each prying an arm from their younger brother. Thorin elbowed Nori in the face.
"T'was a gift back in Rivendell!" Dori yelled in his ear, as Thorin tried to throw him as well.
"He is correct, Ali had it when we were trekking to find you in the goblin cave," Gandalf's voice had a calming effect, blasted magic, Thorin thought.
"If ya can't calm down, I'll have ya thrown outta here, king or no king, yer disterbin the lass," Oin huffed.
Thorin clenched his jaw but turned to Ali again, he knew he was over reacting. He had to get himself together for her, already he had failed to notice until too late. Deftly Oin's hands untied the poor excuse for a bandage from her waist, unwrapping it slowly. Reaching her shoulder Oin stopped and cast a wary look at Thorin who returned it with his growing impatience.
"This is about ta get unpleasant," Oin huffed. "Perhaps ya should leave a spell."
"No," Thorin gritted his teeth. "I've already failed to be by her side, I won't do so again." Thorin was not going to be swayed in any way to take another step from her side until she was healed entirely.
Oin cleared his throat and shifted, hands still on Ali's shoulder he nodded to Fili and Bofur. "Come 'ere boys and 'old a shoulder in case she thrashes. Kili, Nori, take the legs." Thorin moved to where Fili was supposed to take his place, but Oin growled. "Move Thorin, I don't trust ya ta do what needs to be done."
"Don' you 'ave anythin to lessen the pain?" Bilbo asked desperately.
"Aye, but ah cannot guarantee the lass won't drown 'stead of swallow," Oin looked up barely, obviously having already thought this through.
As they took their places Thorin understood why he couldn't be trusted. In front of him Ali convulsed against the shock of Oin pulling the scarf that had become encrusted to her body. The scream alone washed through him as the single most sickening sound he had heard.
Convulsing again Ali arched off the bench, before falling back, head lolling to the side she met his eyes one last time. He could feel his heart rip from his chest when her body relaxed. Even the screams of dragon fire washed away in the agony he felt, as though the air itself had fled his lungs.
Blinking awake Ali looked up, around her she found the familiar wallpaper peeling, cigarette ashes ground into the carpet under her little hands. Shocked Ali picked herself up and stared at her little hands, child hands. Clenching her little fists to her chest she glanced around again. This sagging ripped couch, this cracked flickering television, this was her living room as a child.
Swallowing against her dry throat Ali looked at the dimly lit doorway in front of her. Numbly her feet led her towards it, against the screaming protests in her mind. You don't want to go in there! You don't need to go in there! Please just turn around!
The light flickered in the sickening yellow kitchen, dishes piled in the sink, flies hovered over forgotten leftovers. Stop, the voice in her head protested quietly, there's nothing here anymore.
Black dotted against the cracking cabinets, a splattered halo around the limp woman in the corner. Her mouth hung impossibly wide, black oozing out past her shattered teeth.
Ali could hear her tiny voice calling out quietly as her little hand touched a ripped cheek. This wasn't supposed to happen, Ali's lip quivered as she called out again, nothing stirring in the glassy eyes. Shoving the shiny silver gun away Ali crouched in the black pool gathering around the body, the warm liquid felt sickeningly thick against her knees.
"Please get up," Ali cried, tears beginning to roll hot on her cheeks, "please mama don' leave me."
A sharp cry jolted Ali awake, her hot tears still flowing down her cheeks. It hurt to remember, Ali sobbed, turning to her side and curling in on herself. Breathing in her shaky sobs she tried to calm herself.
"You are human after all," a smooth voice floated over Ali, "I was wondering what you were suppressing so dramatically."
Darting up, she quickly wiped away the last of her tears. To her surprise Galadriel was smiling down at her, before she calmly looked off into the sky. "Why would you remind me of that?"
"Why do you hide your tears?" Galadriel's voice flowed like satin, gracefully avoiding the question.
Ali opened her mouth to say that she hadn't been crying then closed it again. There was no sensible reason to believe that under any way she would be able to lie to a woman who could read her mind. Finally Ali glanced around, what she saw made her bolt to her feet.
Constellations swirled around them, black skies lit by fluctuating purple and blue galaxies. It was like a dream as they moved through the universe. In front of her the invisible floor rippled as two doors rose from the waters. One was concrete, small lights illuminated like windows on a skyscraper. The other that rose was more intricate, vines snaked around the bricks, the door itself was green wood with words carved in a language she didn't understand.
"What is this?" Ali whispered, looking up at Galadriel.
"This, child, is the veil," Galadriel spoke softly letting Ali gaze around once more.
"But I thought…" Ali began, touching her shoulder, the pain was gone.
"Yes, you were unable to move past your injuries," Galadriel nodded but didn't look down at her. "You're blood became poison, and you refused to seek help. Much like your mother you were weak."
Ali's blood boiled instantly, "my mother was not weak," she practically spat.
"Is that so?" Galadriel gazed off with infuriating indifference. "Then it was those around her that failed to give her the help she required."
"My mom was the strongest person I know, if she needed help she would have people that would have helped her," Ali gritted her teeth.
"But she did need help," Galadriel continued, "so why didn't she seek it? Why didn't you seek it?"
Ali opened her mouth then closed it, she felt impossibly angry, yet also confused. She didn't want to think of her mom as weak.
"Your actions mirrored hers, yet do you believe that you were strong because of it?" Galadriel continued.
No, Ali thought dying was weak, yet her mother wasn't weak. Ali dropped to her knees, this was too much, since she had been brought here everything was just so much. Why couldn't life just return to how it was before, when things were easy.
Galadriel knelt down beside her, placing a cool hand across her shoulders. "There was once a time when I believed dying for my people would be the strongest show of loyalty. That somehow sacrificing my life would be an answer to a question that was never asked. Since then I've learned that it is not dying that shows an undying strength to your cause, but living. Allowing others to help is the truest sign of strength, because that shows the others that it's alright to be weak every so often. Opening the doors to let others ask for the help that they so desperately seek."
"My mom wasn't weak," Ali's lip trembled, no longer to hold back a few tears.
"No, your mom was too strong for too long," Galadriel touched Ali's hair as she sniffed against her running nose. "But you need to learn from her and become stronger than that, you have friends that will help you as your mother had. You merely need to ask."
Ali bit her lip and wiped her cheeks with her sweater sleeve, looking at the doors again, Galadriel followed her gaze.
"Which will you choose, your park bench, or the company of Thorin?" Galadriel asked.
"I just…" Ali hiccupped as she cried, "I just want to go home."
"As you wish," Galadriel moved away to open the door.
Chapter 13 is up! Never thought I would get this many!
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