I worked overtime, as it were, to write this chapter before I leave for Hungary today (Thursday). I will continue this story while over there, and new chapters will still be posted each week. There's a chance that I might be late once or twice, as I'm also traveling to Germany, England, and Poland, but I'll let you know if that's the case. And I'll try to write chapters ahead.
Update on my car: More crap news. It won't be finished before I leave, so my saint-of-a-mother will pick it up. Bless her. It's been a tiring week, but your response for the story have made it infinitely better. *hugs*
MoonCrown: Jealousy? Where? I thought that was in the stone giant chapter, lol.
Abyss Prime: Thank you. :)
3insteinComplex: I reacted the same way when I read your review! More moves commence. XD
MugglebornPrincesa: I think I was having a Richard Armitage fangirl moment right before I wrote that part, haha.
Just4Me: I probably enjoyed writing the bath scene too much...
loveorpain: "Awww horse" indeed. :) I will give horses personalities every chance I get.
Itaneth: You're new! I do try not to rush through with the story, which was difficult when I was following the film. It was a tedious process to inject a bit of character thoughts and interactions. It's a bit easier now that I'm using the book as a guide. And I strove to keep Talarin (Thorin+Talaitha) realistic, so I'm happy to hear I've succeeded. Thank you for your kind words! :D
kaia: Thank you! :)
LianaDare8: More romantic feels are on the way. XD
Theta-McBride: Thank you! :)
KillerKadoogan: So basically you smiled how I did when I read your review. :) I loooved writing playful Thorin; I like to think his nephews occasionally brought that out, too, when they were young. Lol, Kili-out of all the characters (Thorin included), he's my absolute favorite to write. I get to indulge in a bit of crack humor. XD As for the bath, well it did happen in the book...I just embellished a bit. ;) Seriously, thank you so much for this review. *extra hugs*
Kat7CA: Aw, nothing bad will happen to them...yet. Nah, they'll be safe for a while. :)
In this chapter:
1. Beorn! He's a blast to write.
2. A Hungarian folk song that I'm passing off as szelemér. I translated it into English, but if you want to hear the original, check out the "pronunciations" section of my profile (#14) for the link.
3. The story Talaitha tells Thorin is actually a very condensed version of one of my original short stories called Nagtael the Watchman.
4. I split Beorn's house into two chapters because this was already getting too long.
Enjoy and the next time you hear from me, I'll be in Budapest!
Disclaimer: I only own Talaitha and the story she tells. The song belongs to the Csángó people, and the modern version, to Holdviola. But translation is mine, I guess?
Chapter 13: Stories by Moonlight
When Talaitha and Thorin entered the house, they were met with a wide hall, in the middle of which burned a low fire. The furniture was large, too large for the dwarves, and made entirely of wood. There were few decorations, save for the intricate carvings in the furniture, and Talaitha saw no metallic objects.
"Look," Thorin murmured.
Talaitha grinned when she followed the dwarf's gaze. Outside in the courtyard, was a garden full of flowers and healing herbs, but what delighted her most was that some of the plants were from Nemere.
"There are many I do not recognize," said Thorin.
Talaitha's reply was cut off when a loud, booming voice greeted them. "So the wizard speaks the truth after all! One of the szelemér has indeed stepped foot inside my home."
The black-haired man was tall and broad and was walking toward them with a powerful gait. Talaitha thought she saw a bit of bear in him. She felt Thorin tense beside her, saw his hand instinctively touch Orcrist's hilt. If Beorn saw the movement, too, their welcome would not be pleasant.
She stepped in front of the dwarf and smiled. "I am Talaitha Borvirág."
"The wandering healer!" Beorn exclaimed with a hearty chuckle. "Radagast spoke of you, but I thought his brain had finally become addled from his mushrooms."
Talaitha giggled. "I have not seen him in years, and before then, I'd only met him a few times while traveling through the Green Wood."
"He is unchanged," said Gandalf, appearing from behind a pillar with Bilbo.
"I now know who you are, fairy, but who is the dwarf hiding behind you?" asked Beorn, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. "And very poorly, I might add."
Thorin stepped around Talaitha, managing to keep his voice polite. "Thorin, son of Thráin."
"The dwarf king. Gandalf mentioned he was traveling with you." Beorn motioned for them to follow. "Come! The wizard was just regaling me with a tale of goblins and orcs, and I do enjoy a good story, even if I am dubious of its truth."
Thorin's expression darkened, but Beorn had turned away already. Gandalf gave him a pointed look, to which the dwarf reluctantly nodded. He would tolerate Beorn for the sake of the Company and quest. And for Talaitha, who seemed to like the skin-changer.
"I have been waiting to hear the full account, for the wizard apparently missed most of the fun!" said Beorn. "So tell me, Thorin, son of Thráin, how you came to be ambushed by goblins."
"While crossing the Misty Mountains during a storm, we ended up in the middle of a battle between stone giants. I and several of my companions sought refuge in a cave we believed to be unoccupied."
Beorn raised a thick, quizzical brow. "Do you call two several?"
"Well, no... As a matter of fact, there were more than two." Thorin sounded uncomfortable, almost nervous.
Beorn looked around his house, as if he thought the dwarves were so small that he'd overlooked them. "Where are they? Have they all been killed or eaten? Or did they perhaps have their fill of stone giants and goblins and go home?"
Gandalf saved Thorin from a reply. "They are here but apparently didn't come when I whistled. You see, I fear we are a rather large group to entertain."
Talaitha feigned a yawn to hide her smile when Bilbo muttered something about having his pantry pillaged by dwarves.
But Beorn, thankfully, hadn't heard the hobbit's disgruntled mumblings. "Go on, whistle again! If I'm in for a party, which it seems I am, a few more won't make a difference."
Just then, Dori and Ori arrived to introduce themselves with a deep bow. Thorin continued his story, sometimes helped along by Talaitha, while the rest of the dwarves trickled inside in pairs, five minutes apart, as Gandalf had instructed. When Thorin had reached the part during which they'd been attacked by Azog, Gandalf took over.
"Flaming pinecones!" The skin-changer guffawed. "I wish I'd been there. I would have given them more than fireworks."
To Talaitha's relief, Beorn had become so engrossed in the story that he seemed to accept the thirteen dwarves with little more than a distracted wave of his hand. She suspected that had been Gandalf's intention all along and the reason he'd had them stagger their arrivals.
When the events had been recounted, Beorn was grinning. "A very good tale! The best I've heard in a long while. If all vagabonds could tell such stories, they might find me more welcoming." Then he shrugged. "You may be making it all up, of course, but you deserve a supper for the excellent entertainment."
The meal was unlike anything Talaitha had experienced. Gray dogs strode in on their hind legs, carrying torches with their forefeet to light the hearth. White horses pushed in benches and a table that were approximately dwarf-sized. And fluffy sheep set the table with cutlery and food. All the while, Beorn and the animals communicated in animal sounds that formed a strange yet familiar language.
There was no meat served, but the dwarves wisely didn't vocalize their laments, for they knew Beorn would be less forgiving than the elves. And the cakes, honey, nuts, and cream were satisfying enough, though Talaitha considered them more dessert than a proper meal.
Beorn told them stories of his own, ending with the decline of the Green Wood. "It is called Mirkwood now," he said grimly. "Terrible creatures dwell there-giant spiders, wicked wargs-, and the forest is slowly decaying."
Talaitha shuddered. "But I was there less than a year ago, when it was still green and good."
"Then you were there shortly before it turned dark and dangerous," Beorn replied. "Radagast and the elves fight it best they can, but the spiders grow bolder."
Gandalf shared a look with Thorin, both thinking the same thought: the Necromancer was responsible.
"Why don't the elves just leave if it's so dangerous?" Bilbo asked.
Talaitha felt Thorin stiffen beside her. "I would not be surprised if they did," he said coldly.
She was confused for a second before realization dawned. Oh. It was the wood elves that had abandoned the dwarves to Smaug. A valid reason for Thorin's anger but probably not one to be discussed with Beorn. She placed a hand on the dwarf's arm, and he seemed to relax slightly.
Beorn glanced briefly at Thorin, then at Bilbo. "Would you so easily give up your home, little hobbit?"
Bilbo didn't have to think about his answer; of course he wouldn't, even though he knew his kin were little match against evil creatures. He began to feel homesick again, while Talaitha felt a pang of guilt for happily leaving Nemere when there were plenty of people there who needed her help.
"Well, I have quite enjoyed this gathering, but I have some business to attend to," Beorn announced, temporarily breaking the somber mood. "Make yourselves at home. All your needs shall be seen to."
The Company moved to the floor while the animals cleaned up the remnants of dinner. Talaitha sat beside Bilbo, slightly away from Gandalf and the dwarves, who were all smoking. It wasn't the smoke that distanced her but her thoughts of home.
"Where do you reckon he's going?" asked Bofur, lighting his pipe.
"To the goblin cave, I expect," Gandalf replied. "Beorn hates goblins, and that is partly why he extended kindness to you all." He looked at Talaitha, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Our dear little fairy is another reason."
Thorin's brows furrowed in confusion. "What does he mean?"
Talaitha sighed. "He means that Beorn and I are distantly related because the skin-changers descended from a szelemér man and a human woman."
"So fairies can transform into animals, too?" asked Kili.
"No, but some can communicate with them," Talaitha replied. "And that's how Beorn's kin began, though I have no idea how or when they learned to change their form."
Fili grinned. "No wonder you were so excited to meet him."
"Will you tell us about your home?" asked Ori. He'd been scribbling in his journal and would no doubt record Talaitha's descriptions.
"There is much to tell."
"What's the name of your city?" Dori asked.
"Lelle. It is the capital and largest city." She smiled as she remembered it. "The streets are cobbled, and everyone gathers together for market days. People play instruments and dance and sing."
Kili grinned. "Sing us one of the songs!"
"Absolutely not." Talaitha laughed.
"What about the one about the flowers and pearls?" Bilbo earned a glare from the fairy for his suggestion.
"You've heard us sing, lass," said Balin. "It's only fair that we hear you now."
Thorin hid his amusement as Talaitha helplessly looked to him and Gandalf for aid. Neither man offered any; in fact, the wizard seemed to enjoy her discomfort. For a moment, Thorin considered supporting her, but in the end, his curiosity and desire to hear her sing overruled his sympathy.
When Talaitha realized she was outnumbered, she sighed and took a sip of water to moisten her throat, which had suddenly become quite dry. She suspected the cause was the same as what had her stomach in knots.
Taking a deep, calming breath, she began to sing.
On top of the rainbow,
Is a full-bloomed lily;
She sits there, discontent,
She wants to hide away.
She must be taken from there
And be placed somewhere new.
She must be taken from there
And be placed somewhere new.
Her voice shook slightly at the next four verses, and tears welled in her eyes, which she quickly blinked away.
For my father and mother,
I'd do anything;
I'd skim the foam
Off the ocean with a spoon.
From the seafloor,
I would collect pearls;
But only for my rose,
Would I fashion a wreathe of pearls.
Without thinking, Talaitha met Thorin's gaze and held it long enough that the Company shifted uncomfortably. Gandalf was the only one not bothered; indeed, he was smiling knowingly. Thorin was the first to look away, though he regretted doing so.
"We should get some sleep," he said brusquely.
"A fine idea," Gandalf agreed. "We are safe in Beorn's hall, but do not stray outside until the sun has risen."
Sometime during the evening, beds had been laid on a raised platform between two pillars, and the fire had burned low. Bilbo snuggled into the soft blanket, grateful for a respite from the cold, hard, dirty ground. He and the dwarves fell asleep quickly, lulled by the crickets' chirps and the crackling of the embers.
For Talaitha, however, sleep did not come. After tossing and turning for an hour, she sat up and gazed out the window at the moon. It was nearly full.
"What is wrong?" asked Thorin. He sat down beside her on the bed.
She didn't seem surprised that he, too, was still awake. Instead, her voice was tinged with sadness. "My mother and I used to lie in the meadow outside Lelle and watch the moon. We'd track its phases and make up stories about moon-people."
Thorin took her hand. "Tell me one of them."
"They're silly." She tried to pull her hand away, but he didn't let her.
"If they comfort you, they're not silly."
That was all the encouragement Talaitha needed. She scooted closer to Thorin and laid her head on his shoulder. "My favorite one's about Nagtael and the moon's queen, Holdhölgy, which means Lady of the Moon. Very original, I know."
Thorin smirked but didn't reply. After a moment, she began her tale.
All sorts of creatures lived on the moon-elves, dwarves, humans, tree-people, horned horses, flying horses, goblins, dragons. But they were different from the beings you might know. The elves were wild and had hair like brambles and skin like tree bark. The dwarves made fire wine, which was imbued with magma. The dragons weren't all fire-breathers; some breathed a healing energy, while others could harness lightning. And they weren't greedy, not about treasure at least. They valued knowledge above all else.
"Too bad Smaug isn't one of those dragons," Thorin muttered.
Talaitha giggled softly. "They're still dangerous, and they'd probably attack you if you withheld information from them. But yes, I like them better than Smaug, too."
Each being had his or her own talent, which was often magical and usually useful. Except Nagtael Silentfighter's. His gift seemed to entail repelling magical objects, which was rather inconvenient in a magical land. But luckily his job as a watchman didn't require the use of magical objects.
One day, as Nagtael was riding through the forest on his rounds, he came across the tree-people, who bore terrible news: the goblin, led by Gbanuz Stonebelch, were attacking peaceful creatures. They had to be stopped. So Nagtael went to each race's demesnes and rallied an army with which to fight the goblins.
The allies fought valiantly, and Gbanuz was killed, leaving the goblins leaderless. That was when Holdhölgy, high above the battlefield, astride a beautiful sorrel flying horse, used her gift. She unleashed a burst of pure goodness on everyone who'd participated in the battle, including and especially the goblins. Now all creatures would live in harmony for as long as Holdhölgy lived.
But the Lady of the Moon was curious why Gbanuz had waged war, since many years ago, a wizard named Valo had cast a spell of peace on them. Well, it turned out, Gbanuz had become immune to peace and succumbed to his race's natural penchant for warmongering.
Nagtael was hailed as a hero, for he'd rallied the army and helped kill Gbanuz. The goblins had gone back to squabbling amongst themselves. And the other creatures went back to their daily lives, as though nothing had happened. All was once again well in the land.
"How old were you when you made up that story?"
"Ten, I think. I'd just read about the goblin wars of the First Age and wanted to make them the villains of a story."
She smiled fondly at the memory of lying in the cool grass, staring up at the moon, and imagining a great battle taking place on it.
"If you miss Nemere so much, why not go home?"
Talaitha raised her head from Thorin's shoulder. "I didn't miss it at first. Not for years," she replied softly. "I was too enthralled with all my adventures, with sharing my kin's remedies with the people of Middle-earth. And now I will wait until you've reclaimed Erebor."
He felt a sudden surge of affection for her, but it was quickly soured by remorse. "I'm sorry I misjudged you."
She shrugged. "You did not know me."
"No, but I am pleased to be changing that."
Talaitha blushed and tried to duck her head, but Thorin gently tilted up her chin so he could see her eyes. They watched each other for a few seconds, then he leaned in and kissed her. She didn't hesitate to return the kiss this time, but it was interrupted by a growling and a scratching outside the door.
They didn't move away from each other, not even when Bilbo sat up abruptly in bed. He didn't immediately see the dwarf and the fairy, for his attention was on the door as he pulled the covers up to his neck.
Talaitha's hand slipped from Thorin's when the hobbit finally noticed them. The dwarf felt cold, like he'd been snowed on after spending the night by a warm fire. Logically, he knew it was best if he and Talaitha were subtle about their relationship-whatever their relationship was-until their quest was complete, yet he couldn't dismiss the pang of disappointment.
"Oh, sorry!" Bilbo whispered. "I, uh, heard a noise."
The fairy peered outside the window, but there was no movement, except the breeze. "I think that was Beorn in bear form."
"Do you think he'll come inside?" The hobbit's voice was only barely colored with fear.
"I don't think so," Talaitha replied. "He means us no harm."
"Unless he also has the mind of a bear." Thorin's tone was so nonchalant that he might've been talking about the weather.
Bilbo's eyes widened slightly, and Talaitha glared at the dwarf.
"Gandalf said we're safe inside, and I trust him." She shifted in the bed, nudging Thorin with her foot. "The noises have stopped, so I think we should sleep."
Thorin resisted the urge to swat at her foot, for he knew Bilbo hadn't seen her motion; there was no reason to draw attention to it. Reluctantly, he stood and laid down in his own bed, feeling even colder now that he was on the other side of the platform.
It took over an hour, but finally, sleep came for the dwarf and the fairy.
#
"And then he tripped over the leg of a bench and fell face first into one of the men in the tavern!"
Loud guffaws filled the garden as Fili recounted Kili's most recent attempt at impressing a she-dwarf. The dark-haired brother bit out a curse in Khuzdul and punched his brother's shoulder.
"Don't look so put out, laddie," said Glóin. "Even the best of us strike out sometimes."
Óin grinned. "Like that time you dropped your axe on your foot, and it sliced halfway through your boot?"
Glóin stuffed a honey cake into his mouth, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "deaf, old bat."
Talaitha made the mistake of giggling too loudly, and it caught Kili's attention. "What about you, little minx? Got any embarrassing stories?"
"None that I'd tell you lot." She bit into an apple slice.
"It's only fair that you tell us one now that you've heard ours," said Glóin.
"Aye, lass, he's right," said Dwalin.
"Fine," she relented. "There was this one night in Bree..."
"Well go on, tell us!" the dwarves chorused.
"I was helping the healers treat an epidemic of scarlet fever, but many of the midwives were ill, so I was asked to assist a birth. Later that day, I was in the Prancing Pony, and the husband of the woman whose baby I'd delivered walked in. I thought he was just celebrating his son's birth, until he pulled a girl onto his lap and, well, you know.
So I went over to his table and accused him of being a pig of a husband and a terrible father. The girl slapped him hard and left, and it was only then that I realized he wasn't the same man. I stammered an apology and ran outside, completely humiliated.
I didn't step foot inside the Prancing Pony for months. And I coincidentally haven't drunk more than one flagon of ale at a time."
"Yeah, yours is much worse than Glóin's boot," Kili chuckled.
Talaitha's first instinct was to glare at the young dwarf, but then another, better idea occurred to her.
"Oh, Kili. If you fancied the man, you could have just told him. There was no reason for such a dramatic charade," she deadpanned.
Kili gaped at her, unable to form coherent words; he kept opening and closing his mouth, looking like a large, hirsute fish. Talaitha smirked as the dwarves laughed and clapped her on the back, some of them rather hard. Even Thorin managed a smile, which filled Talaitha with warmth and pride. It was no simple task to coax the dwarf king's lips out of their habitual frown.
Bilbo walked into the courtyard, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What's all the ruckus?"
"Ms. Talaitha rendered Kili speechless," said Ori.
"Really?" Bilbo looked at Talaitha. "How?"
"That's not important," she replied with a slight blush. "Come, have some breakfast."
The hobbit sat down beside Talaitha and helped himself to honey cakes, berries, and cream.
"You're lucky there's still some left." Bofur grinned. "If you'd slept any longer, there wouldn't have been."
The fairy fixed the dwarf with a mock-glare, before patting Bilbo's shoulder. "I'd have saved you a plate."
It was only when Bilbo was eating his second cake that he noticed one of their group was missing. "Where's Gandalf?"
"He was gone this morning when we awoke, and Beorn hasn't returned yet either," said Balin.
"Shouldn't we look for them?"
Thorin spoke for the first time that morning. "We will as soon as you finish."
When Bilbo had eaten his fill, they walked the perimeter of the house, looking for any sign of the skin-changer and the wizard. All they found were bear tracks leading into the forest. None of the others had heard the noises last night, but Thorin nodded at Bilbo and Talaitha; it had been Beorn at the door.
The two of them hung back, in case Beorn or Gandalf returned, as Thorin led the dwarves into the forest to follow the bear prints.
Talaitha kicked at a rock as they rounded the house. "You told the dwarves that I'm a princess, didn't you."
"I'm sorry, it just slipped out," Bilbo said. "They kept pestering me about why you were wearing a circlet."
Talaitha shrugged. "It's fine. I'd have told them if they'd asked, but I didn't think it was vital information."
"No?"
The fairy quirked a curious brow.
"You and Thorin," Bilbo elaborated. "I saw you holding hands during the walk to Beorn's house."
"Oh, that." Talaitha sighed. "Don't ask me about that, for I have no answers yet." She stopped and placed a hand on his shoulder. "And please don't tell the others. They need to know they can rely on Thorin, that he's focused on the quest, and I fear I've blundered into the middle of it."
She sounded so guilty that Bilbo gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "Perhaps, but he growls and scowls less ever since."
Talaitha giggled. "Just don't let him hear you say that."
Soon after, the dwarves returned, looking glum.
"No sign of either of them?" Talaitha asked.
Thorin shook his head.
Bilbo sighed. "So what do we do now?"
"We wait."
And wait they did, all the way until sunset, at which time, the door flew open and Gandalf strode in. As he took off his hat and leaned his staff against the wall, Talaitha greeted him.
"Nice of you to join us."
The wizard regarded her with amusement. "While you've all been resting, I did some investigating." He sat at the table and piled bread, honey, and whipped cream onto his plate. "I followed Beorn's bear tracks and came upon many more, all headed toward the goblin mountain."
"What if he leads them here?" Dori asked anxiously. "I thought he was a friend."
"And so he is!" There was an impatient edge to Gandalf's voice. "Remember, Beorn hates goblins worse than any other creature."
"Will he defeat them?" asked Ori.
The wizard shrugged. "He might. There was a small army of bears accompanying him."
After supper, they were mostly silent, restlessly awaiting Beorn's return. But it was in vain, for the skin-changer was still missing by the time the Company went to bed.
Once again, Talaitha laid awake, staring at the wooden beams above, until she grew tired of them and glanced instead at Thorin's bed. She didn't know if he was asleep, but still she tiptoed over to him. He was lying on his side, his back to her.
"Thorin?" she whispered, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder.
He turned to her, and she was relieved to note that he didn't look like he'd just woken. "Come." He sat up and gently pulled her down beside him.
She laid her head on his shoulder, smiling at their clasped hands in her lap. "You tell me a story tonight."
"It would not be as creative as yours."
"Then tell me a true one."
He was about to protest again when he felt Talaitha's fingers entwine with his own. The gesture was a simple one, but it silenced whatever objections he had and filled his heart with warmth. He would think of a tale.
He told her of Erebor before Smaug attacked, when it was still glittering and magnificent, when the kings and queens of each race, even of the wood elves, came to pledge their respect and support for Thrór, the mightiest of the dwarf kings.
He told her of his younger sister, Dis, about how she used to steal strawberries from the kitchen when she was little; of Frerin, who'd bravely and somewhat foolishly challenged Dwalin to a fight when he was just ten. And had nearly won.
Finally, he told her of the forges, where the finest jewelry and weapons were made; of the mines, where rubies and diamonds and emeralds sparkled as far as the eye could see. And he told her of the Arkenstone, the most beautiful gem of all, which had become a symbol of the royal line.
"What happened to it?"
"The dragon has it, along with all the gold and jewels." Thorin tried to keep the anger from leaking into his voice, but Talaitha heard it.
She squeezed his hand. "You will defeat Smaug, and when you do, there will once more be a King under the Mountain for the Arkenstone to represent."
Thorin kissed the top of her head, smiling at the ever-present scent of lilacs. He wished he could fully convey his affection toward her, but for the moment, sitting on his bed together-with her hand in his and her head resting on his shoulder-would have to suffice.
When he finally fell asleep, he dreamt he and Talaitha were walking along Erebor's halls hand-in-hand. She wore an amethyst crown.