You push and you pull and struggle with the knot
It's tying you up while you're fadin'
You give and you take and take what you got
-Push and Pull, Nikka Costa
They ran through the archway of the massively tall, ivy covered stone fence that protected the property they were heading toward. Sona would have heaved a sigh of relief if she hadn't been so exhausted—or if a massive bear hadn't been chasing them. Though she knew it was impossible, it felt like they'd been running for hours.
Dwalin once again carried her pack, and this time it was Gloin who pulled her along when she began to fall behind. She was reminded once more of Gimli chasing a pack of orcs and uruk-hai for days without flagging.
Must be a family thing.
Bombur sped by them, much to her shock, and they arrived at a set of double barn doors. The dwarves yanked and pounded on the wood doors as a loud bear roar sounded behind them, and before Sona could yell at them to lift the latch, Thorin did just that, and they poured inside, with Gandalf bringing up the rear.
Sona bent over her knees, gasping, as her companions struggled to shut the door against the muzzle of a massive black bear.
"Are you quite alright, my dear?" Gandalf bent over her, placing a gentle hand against her temples.
She immediately felt better and straightened, quietly murmuring, "That is not at all how I remember it going." Sona still didn't recall much about The Hobbit, even after being here these past months, twenty years was a hard gap to fill––but she definitely would have remembered the Company being chased by a massive bear-man.
"I suspect, my dear, you are changing things from your little book." Gandalf gave her a wry smile. "And of course, you already have done so, I am certain."
He knows! Sona forced herself not to clutch at her calf, not ready to have this conversation just yet. Don't be stupid—how could he know about the ring? He wouldn't even listen when you tried to tell him.
The dwarves finally bolted the door and turned toward the wizard.
"What was that?" Ori asked—less scared and more curious than anything. Sona supposed he'd want to sketch the encounter in his book and the thought brought a soft smile to her face.
"That is our host," Gandalf answered.
Sona wandered around the space while the wizard told them about Beorn, the skin-changer, and how he did not like dwarves—Sona had frowned at that last bit. Still, she tried to get a sense for the man still growling outside by walking through the common spaces of his home—which she decided was perfectly fair since he had tried to maul them just now.
It was a massive barn-like structure, complete with animals (oxen, goats, and dogs—in fact, Sasha was sniffing at a shaggy golden retriever) and straw strewn on the floor. Yet it also had the comforts you'd expect in a home belonging to a man, such as a table and chairs in a dining area, and a very large bench and plush armchair gathered around a hearth that Bombur was already building a cook fire in.
Sona lingered by an oversized chess-set where mice scurried across, and ran her finger along the dust free surface. There was something about seeing something so normal and familiar from her world also here in Arda that set her at ease. Not to mention it spoke volumes about their host—for all his animalistic roaring outside, this was a game that require intellect and thinking.
A snorting snuffling against Sona's leg garnered her attention and she looked down to see a fawn colored pug staring back up at her, mouth open is if in a smile, with his tongue lolling out to the side of his flat face.
"Hey, little guy." Sona crouched and placed her hand out toward him, and once he sniffed it and wiggled his perfectly adorable double curled tail as best he could, she carefully scooped him up in her arms. He licked her cheek while she fingered his silky soft black ears.
"You are quite the little peanut, aren't you?" She giggled as he proceeded to lick her face all the more vigorously. "Beorn is definitely okay in my book if he keeps the likes of you for company." Sona laughed again as the pug barked his agreement.
That's when she realized how quiet things had become and turned to find fourteen sets of eyes on her, a range of bemused and confused expressions across all of them. Even Thorin, despite the current awkwardness between them, had the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips and an amused crinkling near his eyes.
"He's leaving." Ori darted his gaze to the door, and the growling sounds of the bear outside died down until all they could hear were his heavy steps as the bear loped away on all fours.
"Come away from there." Dori yanked his brother back. "It's not natural. It's obvious he's under some dark spell."
Sona raised an eyebrow as she set down the pug. Dark spell? No, she didn't remember that at all, and that didn't feel right—
"He's under no enchantment!" Gandalf boomed, clearly upset over even the suggestion. "Alright now, get some sleep all of you." He pointed is staff toward the far back of the great room, which appeared to lead to an actual barn where most of the animals seemed to be, along with heaps of clean fresh hay. It looked positively heavenly to Sona's eyes.
"You'll be safe here tonight," the wizard continued, and then murmured something else Sona did not hear
Sona flipped onto her back and blew out a frustrated sigh. The hay was far softer than the ground, and she was exhausted, so she should have been able to sleep, no problem. Sasha whined from her spot on Sona's right, and even the little pug dog, curled up at her feet seemed a bit put out with Sona's constant fidgeting, as he blew out a sigh that set his black lips fluttering.
"You know, if you'd just go talk to him it would set your mind at ease, and you'd probably be able to sleep." Fíli's voice came from the other side of Sasha, and Sona felt her face heat. She didn't need to ask whom he'd meant by him.
"Yes, then maybe we could sleep." Kíli added from slightly further away.
"I'm sorry," Sona whispered, as she got to her feet, quickly looking around the room. The others were all fast asleep, mouths agape in a loud harmony of snores. Only Thorin's nephews—grinning guilelessly up at her—appeared to have been bothered by her constant tossing.
"I… need a drink of water. Maybe that will help."
Kíli snorted and Fíli elbowed him sharply.
"Good night, Sona." The blonde dwarf turned over and curled next to Sasha once more. "I hope you find what you're looking for."
Sona practically fled from the room as Kíli's smile widened and he looked about to say something particularly cheeky. She didn't need to hear it.
And Fíli was right… she should talk to Thorin. She still needed to apologize, and now was as good a time as any, especially as he clearly awake too—he was very noticeably absent from their makeshift hay pile beds.
I need to find him more lavender to help him sleep. She pursed her lips, thinking, but then caught herself. No… no more gifts. They aren't allowed. Not unless I'm trying to show my favor. And I don't want to do that. Right?
Right.
She frowned at that thought.
Ugh, my stupid attraction to Thorin is developing into a full-blown crush.
Sona found Thorin near the hearth talking quietly with Balin and Dwalin. They were all smoking pipes and had their heads bent toward each other. The conversation seemed quite serious, and this—her apology—could wait, so she backed away so as to not interrupt when the three of them looked up at her at the same time.
Dammit. She grasped the bangles on her wrist, quieting them instantly.
"Oh! I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to disturb you. I'll leave." But before she could, in fact, leave, Dwalin and Balin were both on their feet and making their way past her.
"No, no, you stay, Whatsafist—"
"—Pacifist—"
"—we were just about to turn in anyways, lass," Balin finished, and before Sona fully realized what had happened, she found herself alone with Thorin.
He stood up from the oversized chair, a guarded expression on his face, and for a moment Sona thought he was going to leave himself, but instead he offered her the plush, padded chair he'd just been sitting in and moved toward the wooden bench his companions had just vacated.
"Âkmînruk zu," she murmured as she climbed up into the massive chair. She turned around to sit and glanced up just in time to meet Thorin's electric blue gaze aimed squarely where her rear had been just a moment prior, before he quickly looked away.
Was he was checking me out…? Her eyes widened—she knew that look. She'd had it directed at her plenty of times… but from humans. Maybe it's different with dwarves. She quickly banished the entire train of thought. Don't be stupid, Sona. He's probably wondering if you're going to yell at him again.
He sat down across from her, and for a moment no one said anything, and the tension mounted, until finally, they both spoke at once.
"I'm sorry—"
"My apologies—"
They both stopped and after another brief moment both smiled, and Sona thought her insides would turn into jelly as the force of Thorin's smile hit her.
He seemed to recover first, speaking while she was still trying to come back to her senses:
"My apologies... I have not behaved toward you as I should." And then he left it at that.
Sona could not even fathom what he was apologizing for—not that he had nothing to apologize for—just that his words were so vague. For all she knew he could have been apologizing for looking at her funny… but she also knew that he did not admit fault easily, so she took it with grace, recognizing the feeling behind his words, if not the reason for them.
"I accept your apology and hope you'll accept mine in return." She gazed at him timidly, a blush heating her cheeks. "Though, obviously, you don't have to."
Thorin nodded toward her, not an acceptance, but an encouragement for her to keep speaking, and she felt a bit more at ease.
"I'm sorry for how I behaved this morning…" Was it really only this morning that I woke up from my injuries? "…I should not have yelled at you and kept interrupting every time you tried to speak." She bit her lower lip chewing on its thick flesh worriedly. "I definitely should not have forced an ending to our argument. You have just as much right to express your opinions and feelings as I do." Sona was careful not to apologize for what she said, because she was not sorry for that—and Thorin had to know her well enough by now to know she wouldn't be.
He didn't apologize for his words either, for that matter.
She peeked at him through her lashes and saw a knowing glimmer in his eyes. Yes, he definitely understood exactly what she was sorry for… and what she was not.
"No, I carry blame for that too—" Thorin canted his head to the side, sending his braids swishing across his shoulders and Sona followed their movement with her eyes. She clenched her hands together tightly in her lap.
"—I know how you detest conflict… how it wounds your spirit." He gave her soft smile, and Sona felt her stomach flip-flop. "I should not have pressed the argument, not when I knew all you wanted––all you needed—was cleansing from the violence."
Sona looked away, no longer able to meet his gaze. Yes, he knew she was a pacifist, but still, he paid attention to even the most subtle of her emotions.
Or maybe I'm not as subtle as I think.
Shrugging one shoulder as if to say it was no big deal, Sona pushed on, knowing she'd lose her courage if she didn't get her next words out.
"Also… I'm sorry about the hair thing." She swallowed hard, trying to forget the silky softness of his heavy tresses between her fingers and how good he had smelled. "I… I didn't know the rules… what it means in your culture." She fisted her own long braid in her hands, clinging to it as if it were a lifeline. "I only meant to help you."
"Thief—"
"No, please let me finish." She gave a half laugh and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I know I just apologized for interrupting you, but please let me say this before I lose my nerve and run away."
He stayed silent, but his brilliant blue eyes burned with intensity.
"I'm also sorry about the flowers." The words wooshed out of Sona's mouth in a rush and she felt as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders the moment she said them. "I only meant the lavender to help you sleep better… I worry about you." She wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them tight to her chest, resting her chin atop them as she looked into the fire. "As for the other… I have no excuse for the flower crown." She shrugged one shoulder again. "I… I just wanted to make you laugh." Then, so quiet, it wasn't much more than a whisper: "You have a lovely laugh… I wish…"
But no, that was not a necessary part of her apology. It didn't matter what she wished. Sona wiggled her toes, grateful for the heat of the fire on her bare feet. It had turned into a rather chilly evening.
"What do you wish, Thief?" Thorin was leaning toward her, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, his chin resting upon it, as he gazed at her so deeply she almost forgot to breathe. She forced herself to blink and look at the fire.
"Uhhh…" I wish you would laugh more. I wish you were half as attracted to me as I am to you. I wish I could climb onto your lap right now, and—
"I wish that the closeness we seemed to have before the cliff, before Azog, and before I found…" Sona pointed at the gold ring bearing her name—he would know what she meant, "…was still there." She shook her head. "I don't want to jeopardize what we have. What we… had." She finally met his eyes, the intensity was still there, and swallowed hard. "Your friendship means so much to me… I don't want to lose it just because I'm an ignorant idiot." She lowered her eyes and held her breath, waiting, hoping.
"While you may be ignorant of our ways, of things we have not shared, you are most certainly no idiot."
Thorin's words had such a gentle earnestness to them that Sona couldn't help but look back up at him. His entire bearing matched his words, and Sona felt relief wash over her.
We're all right.
"Do you want to see it?" The words were out of Sona's mouth before she could recall them, but then realized she didn't want to pull them back… she didn't want to keep anything from Thorin.
Not even the Ring? No… not even the Ring.
He blinked and sat back in surprise—whether at her abrupt subject change, or her offer, Sona didn't know, but she was off the chair and climbing onto the bench beside him before he could respond.
Tucking her bare feet beneath her and leaning close to the dwarf, Sona pulled Thorin's handkerchief out from where she'd tucked it into her waistband. He followed her hands with the focus of a cat coiled to pounce.
Sona flattened her left hand and set the blue velvet cloth atop it before slowly opening it, revealing the plain gold ring within. She felt her stomach churn at the sight of it, and thrust it toward Thorin, wanting, at the same time, to pull it back and clutch it tightly to her chest protectively as soon as she did.
His fingers hovered over it for a moment before picking the Ring of Power up in one smooth movement.
Thorin held it in front of his face, evaluating, and Sona noticed his lower lip slightly pull in against his teeth.
"…So much fear and doubt over so small a thing." He lowered his head, examining it even closer. "Such a little thing."
Then, giving it one last curious look, he set it back down on Sona's cloth covered hand.
"That's it?" When she'd heard echoes of Bormir's words tumble from Thorin's lips she'd been both taken aback and feared the worst…
He raised an eyebrow.
"Don't you…" Sona swallowed, hand shaking slightly, disgusted with herself for feeling relieved at the Ring's return. "Don't you want to keep it? Aren't you drawn to it?"
"No," Thorin said simply, glancing down at the Ring. "I feel its power, as anyone so near it would." He easily looked up to meet Sona's gaze again. "But Rings of Power hold little sway over Mahal's Children."
Sona's jaw dropped. Then why didn't Gimli take the ring? Which she just as quickly answered, because no elf would have ever allowed it.
"They only magnify our natural tendencies for desiring gold and hoarding it," Thorin continued. "…among other effects."
Sona nodded, understanding what he was saying. She would never forget Elrond's words about a strain of madness in Thorin's family—it made a horrible sort of perfect sense if they had one of the seven dwarf rings.
"I bet Sauron was pissed when he realized that." Sona let a weak smile play at her lips as she searched for a silver lining. "His perfect plan to control all the peoples of Middle Earth ruined by one stubborn bunch."
Thorin only gave her a half smile in response, then canted his head to the side again, sending those dammed distracting braids swishing across his chest once more.
"And what of you?" he asked, and Sona thought she could detect a hint of worry in his eyes. "You are of Men. Are you not drawn to it?"
"Yes… and no." It was as honest as Sona could manage. "I… I don't want to touch it… but I don't want anyone else to touch it either." She looked at the Ring with complete loathing. "I hate it. I hate how it makes me feel. I want to throw up every time I touch it. And the worst part is it's as if it knows… and it's laughing at me, and it's just a stupid inanimate object except that it's not, and it's evil, and it must be destroyed." She flipped the fabric over the top of the ring so she wouldn't have to look at it anymore, and the oily darkness trying to find cracks in her spirit receded. "But not yet. First Erebor. Then the ring, like we planned."
Thorin met her gaze steadily. "Are you certain?"
No. She nodded. "Yes."
His eyes narrowed slightly—as if he could see the doubt she was trying to hide—but finally, nodded once in agreement.
Sona shifted her gaze back to his handkerchief, intending to put the ring up, and then realized with a start what she'd done once again.
"Oh! Oh no!" She dumped the ring into the excess fabric of the corner of her kurta and quickly tied a knot around it, securing it tightly out of sight. She then held the silver embroidered blue fabric out to Thorin. "I'm so sorry—I can't believe I still haven't given this back to you. No wonder you still call me a thief."
Thorin looked at the handkerchief for a few heartbeats, then reached out and gently curled her fingers back over it, leaving his own hand lingering hotly atop hers for a long moment.
"Keep it." His hand dropped back to his side, and Sona blinked.
His sister had embroidered and gifted him the hanky. And now he was…
"But… but I thought gifts were a no-no."
One corner of Thorin's mouth pulled up into a cautious smile, magnified by the short beard around it.
"Close friends may exchange gifts." He leaned fractionally closer to her, and Sona found she couldn't resist doing the same. "You gifted me lavender to aide my rest. I give you my handkerchief to ease your burden. It's no more than any true friend would do, and nothing improper."
Sona wondered if he said that last bit more for his own benefit, but didn't care… he was being playful with her again, and she was so happy she felt she would burst.
"Now you should rest," he continued, as if nothing amazing had just happened. "You are still injured and healing."
"So are you." She lightly tapped his chest with a finger, hoping that the many layers of clothing and armor would make that okay.
Plus at this point I'm pretty sure he'll tell me if I do something wrong.
Her mind whirled over his words. Close friends may exchange gifts… A smile tugged at her lips as a new thought crossed her mind.
I wonder… Do I dare?
He almost certainly detected the question in her face, as his eyes slightly narrowed in response. "Out with it. I promise whatever it is…" He paused, as if re-considering his words. "That is to say… you may ask me anything without fear."
"Well…" She bit her lower lip wondering, do I dare?… do I?… "It's just that… based on that logic…what with us being such close friends and all…" Sona leaned in a bit more, hand sliding along the smooth surface of the wood bench toward him.
Thorin's eyes widened slightly, but he did not pull away. He didn't move at all.
"…technically…" She inched a little closer, her stomach flip-flopping… there was only a foot between them.
Yeah… yeah, I totally dare.
"…I did nothing wrong when I helped you with your hair this morning."
And with that her hand snaked up and she gave one of his braids a teasing tug before she hopped of the bench and raced to the exit, calling, "Goodnight, Thorin," over her shoulder.
Sona paused at the doorway, wondering if perhaps she had pushed him too far, and was about to turn and apologize once more when she heard a murmured:
"Goodnight… Thief."
