Look who's back from the land of the dead! That's me and, yes, I'm back to haunt you again. You have my humble apology for my lack of updates the past month and a half. I'm not gonna go into detail, let's just say that this year's killing me from the inside out. Anyway, a huge thanks to all those who stuck with me, and a big welcome to the new readers who followed and favourited the story!
draegon-fire: The fortune teller didn't say anything to irritate him or something, he just walked away from her after seeing the other two and flipping out a bit. Thanks for the review!
HooksGirl67: Yes, it was a Sherlock reference! Thank you for the reviews!
PurpleCat1245: It's from Harry Potter, yes, well spotted! Also, thank you for the correction in Chapter 30, I wouldn't have noticed that if it weren't for you! As for the other correction, 'enquire' is mainly used in the U.K., while 'inquire' is used in the U.S. Thank you so much for your kind words and all your reviews, it's been weeks since you wrote them but, trust me, they made my days brighter :D
Kaiya's Watergarden, lena1987, inperfection, Guest 1, tenlex, Amberwish, Liliesshadow, Made-From-Uru, Montanasmith5897, Ruby Pen, Prost: Thank you for the reviews as well, nice people! I hope I'll see you in this one, too!
The title is a direct reference to the Game of Thrones episode with the same name. I couldn't think of a better one, so this will have to do for now. Perhaps I'll change it if I come up with something spicier.
The Mountain and the viper
The phenomenal combination of rain and snow had done little to ease the small trip from the western to the northeastern shore. It followed them till they stepped foot on land and, even farther, to the ghost town that was depopulated decades ago in the wake of Smaug's savage aerial assault. What that had as a result were thoroughly soaked heads and clothes, and a miffed mood in general.
Kili had remained silent during the whole ride, opting to not even look at anyone until the flames of his anger died down a bit. Yet the four to five hours it took them to cross the lake and cover the distance between the shore and Dale on foot was a rather optimistic amount of time for Kili's surge of anger to be appeased. Desire, suspicion, hurt, jealousy, anger, betrayal... Those sentiments were all spokes on a wheel that continued to roll endlessly. A vicious circle that had no start or end. They wove themselves into each other, became a blur in his mind, in his heart, and all he wished was for everyone to leave him be for a while.
He withdrew from the company of the rest during their respite at Dale, which was the only slightly protected place they could rest for a while; or at least better than the plain fields and hills that spread around the city, up to the Mountain, where they could be spotted from almost every direction.
Bofur, Fili and Arya found the chance to explore the dilapidated buildings of old that were covered in mist in search of prey for the meal they would have once they reached the Mountain. Yet, even though the vegetation was abundant and roots of trees sprang through the fallen boulders and the cracks of the discoloured sett, the fauna was lacking. The largest of those few animals that made the derelict city their home were mice. Only Fili and Bofur proved luckier than the rest, who came upon a bunch of snails emerging on the surface after the rainwater seeped into the ground so that they wouldn't drown and a few scattered mushrooms that sprouted out in groups of two and three, respectively.
Currently, an hour or so after they took a break, the dark grey clouds in the sky made for an even gloomier sight against the faded paint of the once colourful city.
Fili had spent seventy seven - no, scratch that, nigh seventy eight long years observing and becoming familiar with his brother's different moods and wide variety of grimaces indicating that something was wrong. It might sound rather odd, but he could almost feel the vibes Kili gave off whenever he was brooding; well, more than usual. As soon as something started to bug his brother to such a degree, Fili felt a disturbance in these vibes. Earlier in the boat, he had watched Kili row with such vengeance and the oar splash against the cold waters so violently, ending up in such distortion of their rhythm that the boat veered to the left more than four times. He had been a step away from grabbing the oar from the brunet's hands and smacking him on the head with it.
Perched on a boulder several feet away as his fingers deftly twirled a knife in the air, Kili was not particularly interested in realising that he was being examined closely, and not just by his brother. Arya had been watching him for quite awhile, until a hint of movement on their far left commanded her attention and made her eyes avert from his form. It seemed to be nothing worrisome but mere snowflakes swept away by gusts of wind, so her gaze returned to its previous post. He hadn't realised that his posture let out more than he wanted. In his own eyes, he looked rather calm compared to what his reaction would be under other circumstances. Still, he might look calm, but in his head Kili had murdered the Bowman three times, in three different,very torturous ways.
The Ranger knew better than to make snarky comments about someone who was so dexterous with a knife, on top of her standing within range. She couldn't fathom what she had done for him to ignore her so prominently. One moment he had been all smiling and in the next one he looked like a completely different person. He wasn't that temperamental, after all, ergo the seed of doubt was planted. Could it be attributed to her forthcoming departure? And if so, was that how he chose to spend their last days together? Something inside her did not comply with this abnormal character-swap. Usually she was the one to act all cold and aloof when the time came to part from a loved one, if only to ease the parting, out of fear that she would otherwise appear weak and vulnerable. Now that the tables turned and she finally was on the other end of that attitude, treading an unfamiliar territory of emotions, she realised how... unwanted it must have felt when she did it to someone.
"Come sit with us, laddie," a voice called from afar. "No point in brooding there all alone-"
Kili recognised the voice without even turning to its source's direction. Oin added something more, yet the young prince did not dignify him with a reply. His gaze remained firmly pinned on the great gate of Erebor that stood grand, magnificent and a tad wrecked ahead. That was his homeland, his heritage, the place where his great ancestors once dwelled; as expected, he ought to be touched, overwhelmed by pride and bliss upon laying eyes on it from up close for the first time. If anything his current sentiments were nowhere akin to those. He felt empty, or at least he was trying to; struggling to set the petty matters of heart aside, as Thorin had so elegantly put it in the past, and ponder over what they were going to face in what was left of the Mountain.
A second voice pulled him out of his sombre reverie then -feminine and reeking of sarcasm, "Is his nibs over there too noble to join us, commoners?"
It admittedly got under his skin, much as he'd like not to admit it. His head snapped towards her, his eyes wide and furious, an eyebrow raised.
The woman tried to swallow the offensive words that were ready to spring out of her mouth for everyone's sake. She stood from her seat and approached him, clearing her throat on the way, "At least, eat."
"You so much enjoy telling me what to do," Kili commented dryly from his spot.
"Only because you are so good at following orders," she shot back in the same tone.
The dwarf rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Can you just shove off?"
"Run that by me again?"
"Which word you didn't get? Leave me alone, I am trying to meditate."
"You're trying to meditate?" Arya scoffed. "And I was wondering what is it that smells like burnt."
Whatever control of his mouth he had slipped away and he muttered something rather loudly in Khuzdul. The Ranger narrowed her eyes -the words seemed familiar to her. She might be entirely foreign to the dwarves' secret language, but those were words he used to grumble after they bickered.
"Have you got anything to say to me?" she asked with a challenging gleam in her eyes. "If so, tell it to my face."
He wasn't even remotely affected under the full force of her glower. He simply ignored it and turned away from her.
Arya scoffed. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm being royally screwed?"
That was the last straw for what his flayed nerves could handle. He wildly swiveled his head to see her standing there genuinely at a loss. However, as soon as their eyes met, she assumed a rather confrontational pose which he mimicked in turn. "Oh, you are being royally screwed?" he snapped.
"Actually, yes, I have no idea why you behave like this," she said in earnest. "Did you get a fresh batch of temper tantrums this morning?"
"No," he said with a fake sweet look, "they only spring up to life when you're near me."
"Oh, really?" she said sarcastically, yet her eyes betrayed an aching heart that she tried to shove in the depths of her chest. "Then perhaps I should not procrastinate and leave now."
"Perhaps you should."
"Fine."
"Fine," he agreed.
"Fine."
"Fine."
They might not know each other for too long, but he had discovered some of her buttons. Not giving her the chance to have the last word was a feast for his pride. He watched as she stomped away from where he was, but stubbornly coerced his eyes to avert from her. Oblivious to each other, their postures were quite similar -both sat in opposite directions with arms crossed and sulked.
Fili shook his head in utter frustration. The maturity in the atmosphere was just overwhelming, wasn't it?
Treading dangerously close to the end of his tether, the older, wiser and, mainly, not blinded by love prince decided to intervene. Out of instinct, his feet carried him towards the Ranger first, for he deemed her the more approachable of the two for the time being. "Clearly something's going on that I don't know about," he commented, placing himself beside her.
"You know," Arya feigned a smile, "sometimes I think that is the phrase that sums up my life."
His brow furrowed. "Isn't it 'Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong'?"
"I have been living in this world for almost three decades now. I know it's scant compared to the years the Elves live for example, but if I had only one phrase to sum up my life... Well, that would be just sad."
Fili laughed under his breath in response. Yes, his instinct was definitely correct guiding him to her first. She seemed and actually was a lot calmer than his brother.
Dark eyes, brimming with concern, sneaked a glance at the lone dwarf on their far left and then turned to him. "Do you know why-?"
"Haven't the foggiest," the blond shrugged, a tad regretful for not being privy to the information that would make all these creases of worry abandon her forehead.
"Well... he can't stay angry forever, can he?" Arya sighed after a while, leaning her elbows on her knees and running her hands over her hair with a groan.
"He can be quite the mule as you know, so I'm pretty sure he could if he wanted," Fili replied, chuckling and rubbing his hand along his braided golden beard. "I think it'd be best if we were on our way, though. Come on," he urged and at the same time gestured the others to get off their arses.
Should anyone watch from afar, they would spot five dots moving across the path connecting Dale and the gates of Erebor and merging with the green and grey environment. They formed a line and their pace was rather brisk, with Oin on the top and the Ranger on their heels with her new bow at the ready, watching their backs. The realisation fell heavy on her shoulders – every step brought her closer to the completion of her task. Under other circumstances she would be, not just pleased, but chuffed to be done with this. Yet the dices were rolled, the circumstances changed, and she currently looked as dark and gloomy as the storm clouds that loomed up behind the northern ridges of the Mountain. Now, there were two different ways she perceived her task. Not only her every step brought her closer to completion, but also pulled her away from him.
Speak of the devil, he was at his wit's end trying to calm himself. It obviously didn't work, so he did the only thing he could think of. Not feeling ready or collected enough to confront her on his own, he resolved to express his concerns to his brother who was quietly walking ahead.
"Fili?" a slightly hesitant voice called, prompting the blond to lower his pace in order to match that of his brother's.
"My, my," he exclaimed with mocking surprise, "have you stooped to talk to us?"
The brunet scowled at him, leveling him with a glare.
"You look ready to burst."
"That's because I am."
"If you're in need of medical assistance, Oin is the dwarf for the job."
"Naturally," the other replied dryly. "You know, you could have been of more help had you become a healer."
"No, I'd be of more help if I learned how to tend to animals; especially cattle, for you seem to share their bovine expression from time to time."
The brunet's eyes flared up and he tossed his arm about, shooing him away. "Whyever did I thought you wouldn't make a mockery of thi–"
"Get to the point, Kili," the blond commanded. "This is a mite too much drama than what I can handle at the moment."
Kili straightened his shoulders and nodded towards the woman in anger. "Have you noticed anything new?"
Fili examined her figure head to toe, unable to notice the obvious addition Kili was raving about. Creases of confusion appeared on his forehead. "I don't understand–"
"Allow me to rephrase. I decided to follow your advice and give her a gift."
"Did you, now?"
Kili raised a hand to stop him, "Wait for it. Trying to be creative and all, considering it's me and her, I honed my mind to come up with something original that she would like and appreciate. And I did," he said with mocking triumph. "What would a Ranger appreciate more than a weapon as keen as she is, my humble mind thought. Especially when hers was confiscated by the Elves weeks ago."
"So you meant to present her with a bow," Fili guessed.
The other nodded. "Precisely." Suddenly his eyes turned wistful and he looked deeply hurt and quite furious. "Yet just when I was ready to buy it, I saw that– that–" his face turned red all of a sudden, as if he was struggling to hold back a torrent of swearwords that would definitely attract unwanted attention, "that tall, ragged caitiff offering her one!"
"Says the urchin dressed in finery," Fili commented dryly in response, pointing at his brother from head to toe to make him realise that he had no right to use adjectives that actually fit him as well. "Who are you referring to?"
Positively seething on the inside, ready to burst like a volcano on the brim of eruption, the only way Kili managed to defuse his inner flutter was a sneer of all things; not directed to someone in specific, rather at thin air. "The dragon-slayer," he replied, the grimace not abandoning his face for a good long minute. "And the bow was the least of it! I must make a special mention to their proximity," he ranted on with a crazed smile, "or lack thereof at some point–"
"What?"
Kili shook his head almost reverently. "You heard perfectly well. Their faces were five bloody inches apart and he had grabbed her shoulders- It seemed like a pretty heated exchange-"
Beyond childish, Fili found this extremely amusing and an invisible force guided him to play along, pretending to be genuinely interested.
"What any random person is supposed to think upon seeing this?" the brunet was grumbling under his breath, clenching his fists so tightly that the knuckles had turned white. "I am sincerely frightened at what else the future could make me witness. What comes next? Perhaps the man will have the audacity to seek her hand in marriage from me? I mean, why not just pull my heart out of my chest and eat it in front of me?"
This time Fili didn't really hold back. He let out the chortle that was trying to remain inside, much to his brother's chagrin. "And pray tell," he teased with a devilish smile, "will you give her hand to him?"
"I have about a hundred problems, eighty of them revolve around that woman, and you laugh at me!" Kili exclaimed dramatically. "On the other hand, how can one not laugh? The whole situation is risible, a tasteless waggery!"
"Don't you reckon you might be overreacting a bit?" the blond sighed.
"If you think I am overreacting here, you should see what's happening inside my head! What am I supposed to do now?"
Fili looked at his brother with a partly serious, partly mirthful. "Well, brother, there are but two options laid before you. You either enter a courtship with your lass and announce the date of your wedding to the public-"
"Have you taken leave of your bloody senses? What about the traditions and all our customs?" Kili cut him off with eyes wide as an owl's. "And let's be generous and see past those. Do you honestly expect Arya to leap at the opportunity and accept without reservation? Or Thorin, mother and our people to be thrilled about that union?"
"Alright then," Fili condescended, "Your second option is to inform her that she has your blessings to marry whomever tall, ragged caitiff she wishes. She deserves one man and you should not stand in their way."
"And everyone will live happily ever after," Kili finished up with a wry look.
"Eh... I wouldn't say everyone," Fili muttered thoughtfully. "How you will cope with her marrying someone else might be a small problem. We had better prepare ourselves for a 'grumpily ever after'–"
"Piss off," the brunet grumbled, smacking his brother's arm. "It is my fault I mentioned this to yo-"
"You should not trust your eyes alone," Fili said quickly. "You said it seemed like a heated exchange—they might as well be arguing and you'd be blinded by jealousy."
The younger raised an eyebrow in question. "Arguing? About what?"
"Alas," his brother exclaimed with wry voice, "how can it be that Arya, a prime example of a meek, sweet-tempered person, is capable of arguing with another living being who has a mouth and the ability to utter comprehensible words–"
"Hey–"
What that earned was a piercing look from the blue eyes beside him, daring him to contradict his sayings. "Kili, I regard the woman with great esteem," a hand pressed on his chest to punctuate how wholeheartedly honest he was being, "you know how much I would like to call her 'sister' in the future, but you cannot possibly overlook her ever so slight inclination to belligerence–"
The brunet's claim was rather ardent, "She's merely passionate!"
"I don't recall you claiming that at the earlier stages of your acquaintance," the other shot back. "Shall I remind you of every single occasion that you thought there weren't enough swearwords in the world to satisfy you when it came to her?"
Much to his brother's content, Kili looked away in embarrasment. Yet he was not one to give up. "I firmly support my earlier claim, she's passionate. One can see that once they get to know her better." He shook his head then, "But that's not the point–"
"No, the point is that you are stupid enough to believe that there is something between them. How could you ever think of that? You may not be betrothed, but how can you doubt her fidelity and her moral principles?" Fili said indignantly, sounding too tired to deal with this right now. "Have you ever even paid any attention to what her face does when she looks at you? Of course not," he answered his own query, "you look at her in the exact same way." His face attempted to morph into said grimace, which could only be described as a cross between a glower and a simper.
"We do not–!"
"You do so! It's so sweet, I think I'm throwing up a little bit in my mouth every time it happens."
Relatively speaking, it was quite difficult task to embarrass Kili. He'd grown so used to the jibes of their peers in Ered Luin and had long ago learned to turn a blind eye to any embarrassing comment directed at him. The present instance, however, seemed to be an exception and his brother's rather graphic commentary made his face crimson. Eager to have this conversation end, he asked, "So you don't think–?"
"Finally getting your wits about you, I see," Fili cut him off. "Now, please, let us pretend this ungodly conversation never happened for real."
It was shortly after their little chat that Kili had retreated further back in their line and confronted Arya about the matter, while she, in turn, apologised profusely for causing him such distress and then reprimanded him for his doubts.
"Are you insulting me again?" asked the prince with a tired sigh once her small, barely audible rant in elvish blessedly drew to an end.
"I am always insulting you," she retorted, "since the first time we met. There is hardly any hope for this to change."
He cringed. Perhaps his brother was right, she might be a tad too passionate. "Well, you are going to leave quite soon, so I doubt my ugly mug will be a reason to rouse your anger and earn me more expletives," he jested.
All of a sudden, the air became as thick as the wintery morning mist in Ered Luin.
"Your Royal Hiney and the wuthering heights your ego resides," he recalled with a snort of amusement in a desperate attempt to lighten the atmosphere.
Though grateful for the swift change of topic, Arya could not deny her surprise hearing this. "How did you know that?! I never said that aloud-"
His face, which had been grave, suddenly broke into a lively, impish smile. It made her want to punch the smug look off his mug.
Kili scoffed. "Do you know how many times I've watched you storm off to the woods after we fought and tried to read your lips as you sneered at thin air?"
That little bastard. "Still," Arya shrugged nonchalantly, "it's not one of my best, I have to admit. I could do far worse than that."
As much as they both fought it off, awkward silence reigned the next few minutes. Until Kili couldn't hold back, "You are really going to leave, aren't you?"
She locked eyes with him for a moment that stretched to eternity and eventually snuffled so as to suppress the overflowing emotions. "I have to," she said quietly.
"When?"
One word was all that came out of his mouth; one simple word that made water gather in the inner corner of her eyes and had her title of a merciless soldier shatter to pieces. Boy, she had gone soft. There was bound to come a day when she would have fulfilled her services, and that day was drawing near.
"Perhaps I'll rest for a night or two, and then take the way back."
The tension in the air became too thick for either to breathe comfortably again.
In a feeble attempt to get rid of the awkwardness, she changed the topic, "I still can't believe you had been sulking for hours and we've spent half the day not on speaking terms."
"To be precise, we did bicker," he corrected. "Also, shall I remind you of your equally mature reaction last night after that girl invited me to dance with her?"
Arya simply pulled a wry grimace and fastened her pace, leaving him behind to laugh to himself.
It was not before long that they crossed the bridge over the stream that poured out of great Front Gate of the Mountain, half wrecked as might that be, with the two huge statues guarding either side and the Ravenhill looming above them on their far left.
Feet carried them as fast as they could through the gate, the two princes stepping foot for the first time in their life in a place they were supposed to call home from now on. Well, a home that was in dire need of cleaning and furnishing, although that was a matter for another, more appropriate moment.
The hall they entered was in ruins, everything was either half burnt or completely incinerated, and whatever had not fallen prey to Smaug's burning wrath was now housing spider webs and infinite grains of decades' old dust.
Oin dared to venture further inside, leaving the rest a few steps behind as he headed down the hall.
"What was this room?" Fili inquired as soon as he came to stand beside him.
The dwarf healer heard but a soft whiz near him and looked at the blond prince in question, until Fili repeated the question louder.
"'Twas the Great Chamber of Thror," he replied wistfully. "Here we held all the feasts and councils."
He barely registered two other people drawing closer and peeking inside. The great doors were half burnt and hanging twisted upon their hinges. The floor of the room was filled with rotting tables, overturned chairs and benches, flagons, bowls, broken drinking horns, skulls, and bones, all covered with dust. Far above came a glimmer of light from unseen openings. The light grew brighter at the further end where the birth-place of the River Running could be seen, and the gurgling sound of running water echoed through the vast depths the dwarves had built their home.
Meanwhile, Bofur was more concentrated on figuring out whether or not his relatives were alive rather than mull over the grandeur of the past. "Bombur?" he called urgently. "Bifur? Anybody?"
It was enough to bring the rest back to their senses, and soon the halls were reverberating with the names of half the company as the group of five progressed further into the Mountain, descending stairs upon stairs upon stairs and searching to discover any sign of life.
According to the commentary of the older dwarves, they were somewhere near the royal quarters by now and the others were yet to be found.
Fili was dangerously close to losing ever semblance of mind he had left. "Where could they be?" he asked wildly. "Bofur, Oin, think! You're the ones who know the place!"
As much esteem as he had for the older prince, Oin definitely didn't wish to get on his wrong side. He might be the very image of his father in appearance, but he had inherited his mother's temperament. And anyone who had met the Lady Dís in person did not want to be on the receiving end of one of her glowers.
Without any warning beforehand, a palm landed on his shoulder and a squeal of exuberance hurt his bad ear. Its origins, tracing back to his days as a greenhorn soldier standing too close to one of Balin's throws of flash-flame, involved an elaborate tale he never tired of recounting.
"Thank Durin, you're alive!"
Joyous minutes of celebration, laughter and perhaps one or two tears followed the reunion of the two brothers, as well as the rest of the members.
"Bless Mahal!"
"Bofur, ye beautiful dwarf," was one of the many buoyant exclamations, courtesy of Nori as he practically squeezed the life out of his friend's body, "if ye didn't smell so bad right now, I swear I'd kiss ye!"
The Ranger's presence especially, who had been declared drowned in the Forest River long ago, was met -much to her own surprise- with unexpected delight and glee and was well-received by everyone. After a brief reiteration of the little adventure she and Bofur had until they found the princes and Oin, some of the dwarves even attempted physical contact. The greatest surprise was Bilbo, though, who sent propriety to the devil and hugged each and every one of them with all the enthusiasm in the world, several seconds longer than it was socially acceptable for adults.
The merry yells and cries of relief would not quiet soon enough, so the Ranger withdrew from the small gathering that took place in the centre of the room to a corner and slumped down on a chair. The movement raised a billow of dust in the air, which elicited a violent reaction from her lungs.
A large hand landed heavy on her shoulder when the damnable coughing stopped, prompting her eyes to seek its owner.
"And how are ye?" a hoarse voice inquired somewhere near her.
She looked up to Dwalin, shaking her head wearily and giving a last small cough before she answered, "Alive."
"You are a woman of your word, Ranger," he admitted with a discreet nod.
The woman remained unresponsive for a few moments as her eyes raked over his face. "Stating the obvious," she said then, her voice both light-hearted and sarcastic at once, "but thank you."
The dwarf snorted in amusement. "And may that spirit of yours never wither."
Arya saluted him with a gesture of her hands, slowly starting to feel her head and eyelids grow heavy.
Some of the dwarves had been shedding tears of relief for a year now. Or half an hour. Although it really felt like the former. Weariness finally took hold of her body and she dozed off on the chair three or four times, only to be roused by the sound of rumbling laughter each time. After jerking awake a fourth time, her ears caught Kili prudently asking the burning question, if a bit late.
"Where is Thorin?"
On cue, time itself seemed to stop for a second. Everyone froze, even the firelight from the extremely old hearth felt as though it was diminished by a chilling breeze that crept into the room unannounced. The lighthearted mood the reunited company shared so far, now evaporated and gave its place to nervousness of momentous proportion.
With Bilbo posing as their guide, the two princes, Bofur, Oin, Balin and the Ranger made for the treasury, where Thorin had been almost exclusively spending his time the past days.
The further they descended into the caverns, the more ill at ease Arya felt. The air became sultrier and the lack of light, or rather the mere sight of the sky -whether it be clear or stormy- made her lungs suffocate. Or perhaps it was due to the fact that she was about to see His Royal Highness after such a long time and, judging by the dwarves' looks, her instinct told her that their meeting was going to be as eventful as that very first one months ago.
"I've tried talking to him, but he won't listen," Bilbo warned as they carefully treaded down the stairs. "He's been down here for days, trying to find the Arkenstone. He doesn't sleep, barely eats... From time to time, it's like he is not himself. This place is affecting him in the worst way possible."
Fili and Kili shared a knowing glance and then looked at Balin, who intentionally averted his gaze. Oh, something was bloody wrong. Walking into the treasury gave them a feeling akin to a lamb venturing into a wolf's lair. Luckily, that horrible sentiment lasted for no more than a few seconds and calmness prevailed.
The room was a bit too big, as if the stone walls were trying to pull away from each other.
Arya rubbed her eyes and opened them again, fearing that they were deceiving her. Images of those rare, lone nights spent at inns suddenly raced to her mind; how she lazily threw her weapons and cloak on the chair at the end of the day. This place was just like that. Only instead of a chair, it was a pile of gold. And instead of a cloak, it was a pile of gold. And instead of the end of the day, it was the end of time and gold was all that had survived.
It triggered an aversion of sorts. To have that amount of gold at one's disposal could possibly take a turn for the worst at some point. She disliked it; the sight of it, the colour, the obnoxious golden shimmering in the dim light that sneaked into the mountain through the cracks of the floors above them.
Contrary to the reaction any being would have upon laying eyes on this spectacle, the two princes instead searched the room for a glimpse of their uncle.
As if he could sense their thoughts, he appeared. A sole figure surrounded by that vast amount of gold, his eyes draining the lush image of the gold and jewels spread around and bathing him in their warm glow. A velvet robe with fur around the neck and the hem hang from his shoulders and a crown sat upon his head. It was an admittedly odd sight for the brothers to see their uncle don such luxurious finery—the dwarf who used to stress the importance of the humble appearance royalty should have and always took pride in his.
He was murmuring incomprehensible words at thin air, his eyes making a slow turn about the room until they came to rest on a group of people amongst which were his beloved nephews. His eyes managed to deceive his mind for a moment, making him believe this was a dream.
Fili took a step forward and called out his name, giving him the most piercing look Thorin had ever received from those blue eyes which were so similar and yet so different than his.
Something snapped within the dwarf's chest then and he swallowed tightly. "Fili?" he said softly. "Kili? It... It can't be-"
"Thorin, it is us," the brunet piped up, creases marring his forehead as a bizarre sentiment took over his heart. "We're alive."
And then Thorin made the second biggest mistake after leaving Kili behind in Esgaroth and giving as an excuse the fact that he would slow them down if he came -an action that would remain eternally etched in the young one's mind; he stupidly reckoned that the boys were more pleased to lay eyes upon the treasure and Erebor itself, rather than their own uncle.
"Behold, my sister's sons," the king continued proudly, opening his arms to their full width to show that all that belonged to them, "the great treasure hoard of Thror!"
The audience's reaction was not as lively or cheerful as he expected, although that did not discourage him in the slightest. He was caught off guard when he spotted a woman among them, though. A slim figure appeared behind them, dressed in dark, disturbingly looking-like elvish attire. She threaded her slender white fingers through each other and set her eyes upon him, her expression a mix of concern and slight aversion.
Bilbo shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously. There were numerous circumstances throughout the journey that, though uncomfortable or in some cases dangerous, he'd managed to face with quick wit and unrelenting courage. However, if there was one situation he would do anything to not be involved in, it was one in which this new 'version' of Thorin and the Ranger were in the same room. The two had resented each other since the very beginning, and the nature of their acquaintance seemed to only fester over the months.
Thorin watched the woman with eyes a colour entirely foreign to the gleaming, icy blue that he usually adorned. Now they were a shade of dark blue, as if the darkest trench had risen from the depths of the seas and plunged into them. In stark contrast to his defiant look, Arya stood there unshaken, with arms crossed over her chest and the rest of the body in a stance that radiated calmness and could even betray, if one was shrewd enough, her noble birth. It was like the lull before the storm reincarnated in a living being.
The deep blue eyes bulged slightly in surprise. "I thought you were dead?!"
"Only on the inside," Arya said with a wry smile and Kili winced at the unpleasant remembrance of calling her that.
Thorin's face scrunched up as though the smell of burnt flesh tingled his nostrils. Without dignifying that with an answer, he turned to his nephews, "What is she doing here?"
All the muscles in Fili's body tensed up as he took a step closer to the marbled balustrade. "She saved our lives. I believe the words you're searching for are 'thank' and 'you'."
Thorin was all but predisposed to thank her. In fact, he had to keep his hand from reaching the hilt of the sword in his belt at the shock of seeing her there. "But of course," he drawled, falsely civil. "Now that you've seen yourself in, courtesy dictates I bid you welcome."
"Good to see you again," the Ranger commented dryly.
"I wish I could say the same," Thorin murmured to himself.
The heated conversation was fortunately cut short long before a fight could break out, and in the end Thorin was persuaded to express his gratitude. The fact that they informed him she would be leaving shortly was a big factor in his decision. If he were any honest with himself, he might actually have a touch of respect for her person after all. She had completed her task as Gandalf bade her, had requested nothing as a reward or payment, and would be leaving within the next two days. Everything was so well-planned that it seemed almost too good to be true.
Everyone but the King was present at dinner. After the exchange in the treasury, they left him to his own devices, eager to get away from the unsettling aura that enshrouded his form. In turn, he was so eager to resume his search of the Arkenstone that any notion of food had been completely eliminated from his mind.
After practically licking their bowls clean, Fili and Kili retreated to a corner of the room and discussed in low tones, setting aside their desire for exploration in favour of the brand new complications that arose and had to be dealt with shortly. The rest of the dwarves were scattered across the place, talking quietly and smoking their pipes after the admittedly meagre meal. After all, how can a medium pot of snail and mushroom stew adequately sate the hunger of thirteen dwarves, a hobbit and a human?
Speak of the devil, just as everyone had found some company, she had withdrawn to the solitude of the small balcony that commanded a wide view to the hills and boulders that lay bare before the Mountain, the city of Dale, and the vast plains that spread to the south and east, farther than the eye could see.
The night was velvety black and quiet, the first after of many stormy or snowy ones, though the clouds were still covering the sky. The cold was biting and seeped under her clothes, prompting her to secure the cloak more tightly around her.
The decision was definitive. She had offered two possible dates for her departure, either tomorrow or the day after. And that, because that bloody muscle called heart forced her mind to offer a second option and delay, if only to see him for one more day. She shook her head in despair and let a loud sigh. For all her silence and avoidance of others, now was a time she didn't wish to be alone. Yet it was the path her mind had set route for, no matter the cries of her heart.
"Not in the mood for company?"
She briefly glanced over her shoulder where the voice came from, only to find the hobbit standing all solemn and grave with hands crossed behind his back. "I'm afraid I need to rediscover my solitude, what with me leaving and all."
Bilbo noticed the corner of her mouth turn upwards, yet he was more than certain that even that hint of a smile was not genuine. "How long are you planning to stay?"
Arya's gaze strayed from the horizon, towards him. "My mission is accomplished. You are all in the Mountain, alive and mostly unharmed," she said quietly. "Come the morrow or the day after, I'll be gone." Her voice was on the verge of cracking, though she managed to hide it well.
Yet he was persistent. "And then? Where will you go?"
His sudden interest roused a sort of curiosity in her. Bilbo was an underestimated sort, he could charm the scales off a dragon if he put his mind to it. No, actually, he had already done that. Why he should suddenly show such an interest in her future whereabouts, Arya could not tell. "West of the Misty Mountains for starters," she answered nonetheless. "After that, I'm on my Chieftain's good humour."
They fell into a companionable silence then. He occupied a spot beside her and spent the next two minutes staring at the dark shadow of Mirkwood Forest that spread to their right.
"How much shall I fall in your esteem if I thwart these plans?"
Her brow furrowed. "Pardon me?"
Bilbo pursed his lips in determination and began searching for something under his long, robe-like garment.
No exaggeration there, it was one of the rare times in her life that the Ranger lost it. She had no idea whatsoever which of her face features should be controlled first -the bulging eyes, the jaw hanging ajar or the arched eyebrows- once the hobbit, the positively above suspicion, respectable hobbit conjured that up from within his clothes.
"You must be joking."
"I wish," he sighed.
Arya frantically glanced around and pushed the jewel towards him to shield the unearthly light it radiated. The bloody thing was gleaming in the dark like a beacon! "You have the Arkenstone?" Long fingers pinched the bridge of her nose after rubbing her temples in circular motions. She cleared her throat three or four times before she was able to pronounce actual words again and not screeching them like a mouse. "Well... that could make life difficult."
"Yes, and possibly quite shorter," he ardently piped up. "You saw him, Arya. You saw the way he looked at the treasure. I won't risk giving this to him, it would only make everything worse." Then he raised an eyebrow. "As a matter of fact, I didn't expect criticism on that decision, especially from you."
"Criticism?" she almost blurted out a chortle. "I'd say pride. Say whatever you want, master Baggins, but you make for an excellent burglar."
His heart beat loudly five times before his feet took a moderate step towards her. "Arya, you are the only one who's the least involved with this," he pointed at the stone. "Also a trustworthy person."
She arched an eyebrow. Her ears didn't like the sound of the turn the conversation was starting to take.
"Will you help me?"
The remaining traces of her smile vanished from her face, giving up its place to a mask of sheer horror. "Oh, no... No! No, no, no-"
"Arya, please-"
"No, I can't-"
"I thought you were my friend," he insisted.
"I am your friend!" she agreed, a little too ardently for that matter. "But that is a cheap sh-"
"See it as doing a friend a favour."
She threw another wild look around to ensure that no one was there to peek, eavesdrop and risk revealing this little detail that could easily provoke war, then raised arm and pointed a finger at him accusingly, "That's exactly the sort of thinking that got me into this mess in the first place!"
A little later
After the thirtieth time the Ranger paced back and forth with arms crossed behind her back and face scrunched in thought, Bilbo started to feel dizzy. She would end up opening a hole in the stony ground if that went on any longer.
Until she finally paused, covered her face with her hands, screamed internally, hunched her shoulders, and then whimpered. "Fine."
The hobbit wiggled his head, thinking he had misheard and that the word was a figment. "Fine? What- You really mean to stay?" he swallowed tightly. "You will help me?"
The woman's slumped so far head slowly rose from the shelter of her hands and she locked eyes with him. "I will," she sighed.
Bilbo suppressed a nervous cough, gawping at her like a freshly caught fish.
Arya was a step away from mistaking his disbelief for affront. Her expression shifted from weariness and blended with pungency. "You are my friend," she stated. "What, am I supposed to let you stay in the nest of a viper on your tod?"
I'm not especially pleased with this one, but it was the best I could do in the middle of exams. Good luck to all of us fans of Game of Thrones, for the 5th season's last episode this Sunday. Cheers!
