"Filegethiel..." His tone is soft but assertive, and you take a deep breath in. "You have to forgive me. I was not myself..." He chokes on his words but makes himself continue. "I look at you, and I see her… The old you..." His words are like deep cuts of a blade, cruel and cold. But you cannot give him what he wants. His Wren is gone. "And then you talk, or act, confident and calm, independent, and I lash out… Forgive me, I am being unfair… I cannot expect you to stay unchanged after all these years..." You press your face into him. You wish you could console him somehow. He is right, he is being unfair, but there is blame on you as well. You betrayed him ten moons ago. You should have stayed and taken the responsibility for what had happened. And then your thoughts jumble, from the pain, and the dizziness, and his closeness. The spicy warm smell of his skin fills your lungs, and you seem to forget everything else. All you can do is listen to his heart and mentally soothe the pain in you. You think it might be ebbing, you feel calmer now.
And then he suddenly chuckles, his warm chest rising under your palm. "And then again why would I even seek that young girl? She was not very fond of me. And I was not very successful in keeping her close..."
"I was very fond of you!" You are so shocked by his words that you lift your head and look at him. His face is pale, eyes pained and cautious. "I was foolish, I was a coward, but I loved you. I was confused, then, and I ran, and then ten moons ago..." Holding yourself high is hard, but you suddenly feel the need for him to understand.
"Filegethiel, we should talk later..."
"We never do!" You shout out, but you are in that much agony. "We never do, and we do not understand each other, and we make it worse!" Another wave of pain hits, and you whimper. He supports you under your arms, and you take sharp breaths in.
"Filegethiel, not now..."
"And what if I die now?" He jerks and then looks almost angered. But you need him to listen. "I am not being overdramatic… If the pain and the tension do not subside, I might go into labour." You take another breath in and lean into him. Your press your forehead into his shoulder. You two are sitting in an endlessly uncomfortable half sitting position but you have no strength to move. "If I do, I have very little chance to survive this."
"Filegethiel..."
"Do shut up, please." You look into his eyes firmly, and his brows jump up. He is so astounded by your effrontery that he momentarily forgets how frightened he is. "I almost died with Mira, I was bleeding out. I was not supposed to even bear any more children, I have little chance to deliver him safely. And before the proper term it is more dangerous… I am being realistic here." His hands clasp on you tighter. "I do not want to talk later, or tomorrow, or some other day, I need to talk now!" By the end of your speech you are almost yelling at him, but you are so overtaxed! You have been keeping your nerves under control since the day you realized you were expecting, you are in pain, and the stubborn Dwarf is not listening!
"Filegethiel, I am worried to exhaust your strength more..." He speaks in a small voice, suddenly uncertain and meek.
"I do not have any left anymore! Nothing to exhaust!" You take another spasmodic breath in. "Just speak honestly to me. For once, like an equal… You accused me of treating you like a child last night, but did you not do it to me for years? You are so overbearing and haughty sometimes!" It seems once you started being impertinent, you cannot stop. But it also seems you do not care. He is staring at you in astonishment. You push him back on the bed, and he allows you and falls back limp, his face bewildered. You curl into him again, your ear pressed to his chest, and he tentatively starts running his fingers through your hair again.
"I have never been overbearing and haughty with you," his tone is hesitant, but there is a pout in it. You cannot see his face, but you know him well. "I remember you always being the one with all the power in these relationships, authoritative, didactic... And now you are even more confident." You close your eyes and try to regulate your breathing. There is some sort of childish chagrin in his tone. "You just pushed me on the bed..."
"See how differently we remember everything?" You rub your stomach, and he places his palm over yours. Your hands start moving together. "I remember feeling so vulnerable, so lost in Erebor, at your mercy at all times… Just like I am right now."
"Now?" He sounds surprised, but he is also distracted by the rippling movement that runs through your stomach. The muscles constrict, and you wince. He pushes your hand off it and places his scorching palm on your middle. There is only a thin nightdress between his searing skin and your stomach, and you feel warmth seeping into the roundness. "Right now you are more powerful than ever, Filegethiel. You can leave at any time, take my son away… Even the other of my favourite companions these days is yours to take away." He stops frowning momentarily and smiles softly. He is speaking of Mira.
"You can take our son away after his birth and throw me out..." He chuckles, and you feel slightly vexed. You were courageous enough to share your biggest fear with him, and he laughs at you.
"Filegethiel, you obviously do not know how terrifying you are in your fury. No one in their sane mind would even consider trying something of the sort."
You are quiet, focusing on his soft caresses, and yet again you are wondering how can two people see their mutual relationships so differently? You wonder what else you do not understand about his feelings. What else have you been seeing in a completely different light than him?
"Had you honestly always thought I would leave you? When I first came to Erebor, did you…?" You bite into your bottom lip. "Did you think I would leave eventually?"
"You did, Filegethiel."
"Only because you did not want me anymore." He mumbles something under his breath, and you rise on one elbow again. You need to see his face. He is frowning, a stubborn wrinkle between his brows, lips pressed together. "Thorin?" He is pointedly looking above your shoulder. "Thorin?.."
"I said I have always wanted you!" He barks in a harsh tone, and you gulp. He closes his eyes, "I am sorry, forgive me… It is the temper..."
"Thorin, you are twisting what had happened then. You think it now, you choose to have idyllic memories, but you did not want me then. I was a burden… You were bored with me…" Your voice wavers. The old pain that you thought has been all but forgotten is suddenly back. It is his embrace, the intoxicating fragrance of his skin. They make you forget what you are now, who you are, and how you have no right to desire him the way you do at the moment. You blush, suddenly remembering yourself, and try to move away from him. You feel confused and embarrassed, but he does not let you shift away. He pulls you into him and makes you lie back down, your cheek on his chest again. He continues stroking your stomach, and you suddenly realize how little pain there is left.
"I have asked myself thousands of times if your departure turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy, Filegethiel," he smirks joylessly, you cannot see, but you know his tones. "Would you have left had I not pushed you away? But if you had not, would I have continued to wonder if you would? And then I would get so tired of this endless circle of doubts that I would just go and break something." You giggle and then feel mortified. He seems to be aiming for such result though, because there is a warm rumble in his chest. It is not the careless chuckling you used to elicit out of him, but there is a shadow of mirth in him. "Smashing training dummies seemed to work best. And clay pots..." You bite into your bottom lip not to laugh. He is quite obviously mocking himself to lift your mood. "They make a nice crackling noise…" That is your undoing, and you laugh, hiding your face into him. He is slightly shaking himself, you remember how he laughs, with his whole body, his shoulders moving, and you peek at his face. Silent laughter is making his eyes bright, irises hiding behind the lashes, and you laugh more. And suddenly you realize tears are running down your face.
"Filegethiel..." He cups your face. "Is it the pain?" You are lying in his arms, and your heart is singing. You should lie, he will leave as soon as you tell him his son is not in danger anymore. But you have no right to demand his presence.
"The pain is gone." He wipes your tears with his thumbs.
"Has it passed then? The threat to the child?" You carefully listen, the babe is calm and content, and there is no pressure in your lower stomach. You nod. And immediately embarrassment comes. You have caused so much trouble for everyone!
He exhales in relief and then cups the back of your head and lies you down on him again. "Let us make a pact, Filegethiel. I am not being a brutal, inconsiderate savage with you anymore, and you will not frighten me thusly." You are holding your breath, your hand over his strong beating heart. You do not trust your voice, you will start sobbing if you stop clenching your jaws. "Are we in agreement, Filegethiel?"
You nod, hoping he will understand, and he starts running his fingers through your hair again. You feel drowsy, sleepy, and you let yourself close your eyes. A dream comes, vague and warm. It almost seems it has come from all those stories you tell Mira, the tales of the Swan Princess and the Grumpy King of Dark Forest. Flowers are swaying in a balmy summer breeze, a Dwarven cloak is thrown on the grass, and a small stream is whispering not that far. Birds are singing in a small grove, and you feel the circle of his warm arms around you. You feel young and careless. Both of you are also bare, and you feel laughter bubbling in your chest. You two will surely be seen. There is a strange weight on your neck. You lift your hand, and your fingers bump into cold gems of an opulent necklace. "Feeling trapped already?" His jesting voice is slightly laced with misgiving, but you know how to soothe his worry.
"I feel happy," you assert, and cupping his face you lead his mouth to yours.
You wake up, slowly opening your eyes, alone in your bed. You lift your eyes and see a maid sitting by the window with embroidery. Mira is playing on the sill, quietly arranging some buttons and little rocks in a strange pattern. She sees you woke up and comes up to you. The maid starts fussing around, and you send her away for a draught from your study and some food. Mira looks slightly shaken, but she is calm.
"I am sorry I have frightened you, guren. And thank you for calling the King. It was you, was it not?" She nods and curls into you. She gently strokes the stomach and gets a soft kick in response.
"Do not worry, emel, he is unscathed. Just a small fright." She uses the same tone you would have with women you tended in Gondor, and you chuckle. "The sad King did well. You need to be kinder to him, emel. He is like that dog our neighbours had, remember? He was biting because his old owner used to beat him. He will be nicer later. Like that dog was. Remember he learnt to bring a stick we threw in the river?" Mira continues reminiscing but you do not listen. You are not certain whether you should laugh at the fact that she is comparing the King Under the Mountain with the dirty limp mongrel that used to live in the house near by, or you should cry considering that in this story you are the old owner that made the dog so violent.
You do not blame yourself for the choices you made seven years ago. You have always been a free woman, you had the right to govern your life. Had you not chosen Amrod then, Mira would not have been born, and perhaps this child under your heart would not have been conceived either. But you are stricken by guilt for what you had done ten moons ago. You were a coward, and you ran. Cowardice is your greatest crime, and you have lost the King's respect and trust then. You could have been in quite a different position now if you had not. It is quite obvious you cannot hope to ever possess his heart again, you can clearly see how much he dislikes the woman you have become. But had the circumstances been different, you could have at least had his friendship. And these days all you can hope for is his patience. You are endlessly sorrowful, your heart and your body desire him ardently, but you feel more at ease. You need to build your new life here, and you have to give up your hopeless longing for him. You return your attention to Mira, and you two chat and share the memories of your life in Ithilien. There is a knock at the door, and you allow the visitor entrance, thinking it is the maid with your food.