She stood in the center of the clearing, as she had many times before. The pale green grass undulated softly beneath her. The dark leaves of the trees swayed back and forth in the midday wind. Somewhere beyond, she knew, a lazy stream wound its way towards the mountains beyond. But she could not hear its quiet whispering, not this time.
She turned with a fright and saw Kili standing a few paces before her. His back was turned to her, but she knew that he was smiling. Her heart began to beat quicker and a violent tremor overtook her small body.
"The worst is yet to come," she called to him but a heavy wind picked up and snatched the words from her mouth. Her hair began to whip furiously at her face and she braced herself against the stormy onslaught. And yet, for the strength of the weather, Kili remained standing still. His raven-black hair lay in a single bejeweled braid along his back.
"What is it?" He called over the voice of the wind. She strained to hear him, her shoulders hunched against a sudden angry flurry of dry leaves.
"I was thinking...I couldn't bear to be without you!"
"Then don't do it." He turned and looked at her over his shoulder, a handsome grin spreading along his face. Swiftly, she reached behind her shoulders and unsheathed a mighty axe. Her arm swung back and then forward and she threw the axe with a steady force.
"No!" She cried in anguish, but the heel of the weapon had already buried itself between his shoulders. He stumbled around clumsily and turned to face her with eyes full of hate. Blood spurted from his mouth and dribbled onto his beard as he clutched his chest in agony. Then, as she watched in horror, his eyes rolled towards the sky and he fell forward with a single, chilling gasp.
X
She woke with a scream that seemed to suck the very breath out of her. Sightless, she fumbled around in the dark for Kili's body. She feared and was yet resolved to locate the axe's handle. Her fingers wrapped around what seemed to be a wooden mug, and she furiously tossed it away.
"Hey!"
"I am sorry, Kili, I am so sorry, I am so sorry -"
"Lord bless my accursed and quiet bar, the she-Dwarf's gone mad again!" A single light flared from behind the glass of a lamp and the Dwarve froze, staring into its bright colors as if in a trance.
"Nadi!" The tavern owner stomped her heavy boot to get the Dwarve's attention. "You were screaming again, you bloody wench."
Nadi buried her head in her hands and shook. It had all been so real: the weight of the axe, the sunlight in Kili's face, the blood. But it was only a dream, one of the kind that she had often. The woman stared down at her with a look of growing impatience. Nadi wasn't fond of being called a wench. And yet neither was she fond of being without a home...again. If there was anything to be learned by her flight from Erebor, it was the saving grace of patience and humility.
"Aye," she mumbled darkly, "I was. I won't do it again."
"Says the insufferable character who drives men away from my business with her thrashing and hollering every single night. If you were perhaps a little less homely, I would have assumed that there was another Dwarve in here. Or perhaps your kind finds your dereliction attractive?" At this sudden thought, the tavern owner stopped and peered curiously around the small room. Satisfied that Nadi was, indeed, alone, she tore away a piece of cloth from her greasy apron and tossed it at the Dwarve's bedding. "Consider tying your mouth shut. One more screech outta you in the wee hours and I'll put you back on the streets where you belong. Desolation or not, I don't particularly care for your kind."
With that, the owner slammed the door and Nadi slumped into her sheets.
X
Nestled deep within the innards of a nameless town of Men, there lived a single she-Dwarve. Her height and stature set her apart from the rest of the inhabitants, for though they were tall and haggard, they walked with a stoop brought on by years of manual labor. When she passed through the market in the early evening to buy her dried meats and bread, the townspeople would follow her with their eyes and mutter over their pipes. The Little Dwarven Wench, they called her behind her back. But when they faced her deep, amber eyes and stony countenance they were inclined to call her by her given name: Nadi.
The morning that was to change everything, Nadi was inspecting the lining of a small wooden boat that the local craftsman had planned to sell. His customer, a local father by the name of Kain, stepped out of the boat on wobbly legs, placed his hands on his knees, and immediately vomited the entirety of his lunch onto the wooden dock.
"She rides well, then." Nadi said beneath her breath, careful to avoid the craftsman's eyes. He watched her with unconcealed dislike as she bent down to run her finger along the tarnished lining of the boat.
"Ain't she a beaut'?" He proclaimed loudly to the heaving local. Kain nodded and lurched forward as a wave of nausea struck him. "Ah, the fish around here will do that to you. Water's poisoned, they say. Got some foul stuff leaching in from the mountains-"
"The wood's exposed and rotted," Nadi noted. "She'll break down in a few days, tops."
"Why, you-" the craftsman began. Nadi turned to face him and he glanced quickly at his customer. "I mean to say, how can you be so sure? Your specialty is in children's toys, not adult craft."
Nadi grit her teeth. An image of all of the painted trinkets that she had built collecting dust on her windowsill flashed in her mind. It was true, she made a living off of tiny wooden things that were meant to impress children. But to say that she was 'making a living' was stretching the truth quite a bit.
"No, no…" Kain said as he straightened up and wiped the spittle from his bearded chin. "She's a Dwarf. Her kind specialize in, well you know, weaponry and stuff. I'm sure she knows her way around the workings of a boat."
"They used to specialize in…" the craftsman spat and glanced appreciatively at his boat. His manner had soured tremendously since her first encounter with him, and whether it was because of her appraisal of his boat or her Dwarven nature, she sensed that she was no longer welcome. She turned on her heel and took a few steps away before a heavy hand gripped her arm and yanked her around. Suddenly the craftsman was kneeling before her, his yellow eyes and rank breath setting her heart at a quickened pace. He sneered and she could see Kain conversing with another man behind his back, oblivious or uncaring towards the assault. She twisted her lips and gave her body a yank, but the craftsman was surprisingly strong.
"Get off of me!" She commanded but he simply snickered and spat at her feet.
"Good for nothing Dwarf scum, coming here and cluttering our streets and taking food out of our mouths…everyone else may be afraid to say it but I…I'll tell you what-" he was so close now that she could smell the yeast on his breath. Slowly, her fingers slid around the knife stashed beneath her coat. "I wish that the Dragon had eaten your entire-"
"Let her go."
The voice that rang out made her gasp. She twisted and squirmed beneath the man's grasp but could not draw her gaze over her shoulder. It couldn't be and yet the thunderous cadence of the words spoken made the identity of the speaker obvious. The craftsman hesitated. The malice had disappeared from his eyes, only to be replaced by something like embarrassment, as if he were a kid caught with his hand in a candy jar.
"And who are you, the girl's father?"
"I will not tell you again."
The craftsman let go of her and she spun around quickly. When she saw the man who had spoken, a bright smile spread across her face for the first time in years. The craftsman spat, "Anyways, I was just telling the little missy here-"
"Silence," she spat back and ran towards Thorin Oakenshield. She caught herself right before she could wrap her arms around him and lowered her head in respectful humility for her King. His face was worn and his clothes were tattered. Dust and grime clung to his beard and blacksmith's vest but he was her King nonetheless and she hadn't seen him in ages. Nonetheless, she couldn't stop the jovial edge from reaching her voice when she addressed him.
"I would have taught him a lesson he wouldn't soon forget," she said, tilting her head back at the craftsman lurking uncomfortably behind her. Thorin regarded her with warmth and allowed the smallest of smiles to grace his lips. Wordlessly, he reached out and took hold of the hand gripping her blade. He brought her fist up, removed the hilt, and placed it upright in her palm.
"Grip it," he said. They paid no heed to the bustle of life moving around them. For the reunion between their kind after so devastating an event was all that mattered to them both. Her hand closed around the hilt, securing the weapon so that the blade faced the sky. "While in close combat, you must hold a weapon of this size towards the sun," he said gently. "That way, you may strike a blow upwards," he pushed her closed hand up with a gentle strength, "or twist your wrist to strike sideways," with that he twisted her wrist and moved her armed hand horizontally. "Holding a dagger to face the ground offers no such mobility. Or haven't I taught you that?"
"Aye, you did," she acquiesced guiltily, "but Thorin, it's been so long. Why-"
"Not here," he said gruffly, casting a distrustful eye to the craftsman who had begun to curse Kain for his insolence and empty pockets. "Do you have a place that we could go, away from meddling ears?"
She nodded and led him through the winding pathways of the cobbled town. Briskly, they stepped over refuse boiling over through the cracks. They weaved their way past mothers dragging along half-naked children and beggars thrusting their hands out for food or change or anything short of a blessing. Finally, they reached a tavern bearing a few forlorn men slopped in an early stupor along benches and tables. The owner, a short haired woman with ruddy cheeks and short, yellow hair watched the two Dwarves with disdain as she spit-polished a mug. She had agreed to let Nadi stay in the refuse room beneath the tavern only if Nadi agreed to manage the daily trash and pay extra coin. It was a miserable room that often stunk of rot and waste due to the patrons trash that she piled beneath her window at night, but Nadi had cleaned it up as best as she could. The floor had been swept and scented with oils and the incense that she pillaged gave the room a homey, if not slightly haunted, look. She lit several candles and placed them along the ridges in the wall. Then, she pulled out the dusty pillows from her cabinets and set them upon the rug on the floor. It was there that Thorin let himself down gracefully and accepted a mug of day old ale along with a soapy basin. She watched him anxiously, her heart heavy with the sorrow of not being able to provide her King with a more fitting space.
"Thorin, I am-" she began to wring her hands but he shook his head and she quickly closed her mouth.
"Do you remember the chambers where our merchants used to store their wares?"
"Yes. You could smell it for miles away when Dina stored her soaps and perfumes there."
Thorin's lip curled over the edge of his mug and he closed his eyes against the memory. "And when the sun rose in the morning you could see the light of our jewels glistening against the hills beyond."
She nodded and began to rock slowly side to side. A dull ache had begun to well up in her throat as her eyes roamed along the shoddy grey walls of her chamber. She couldn't let her King see how the memories of Erebor affected her so. She sucked in her bottom lip and tried to maintain a façade of passiveness. If he wanted to talk about the Old Days until she withered to dust, she would gladly take part of it.
"Ah," she exhaled suddenly, "when I was a young lass I would...run through the market and try to sell the insects and rocks that I had found on my journeys. And there was always someone who'd oblige me. I'd end the day with enough coins to build new entrapments and purchase better bait until one day I had enough to set up my own tent. Where I sold my wildland pets and hand crafted hunter's instruments for much more than they were worth."
"Aye, I can agree to that."
Nothing more on that matter had to be said. They both knew where the memory would take them.
X
One day, while the sun shone bright in the sky and the market was in full bloom, the House of Durin had come out to survey the land. Stately, and magnificent, they had walked with hands clasped behind their back between the colorful fabric vendors and basket-carrying Dwarves. All who cast their gaze upon them were moved by their splendor and proud demeanor as they moved silently through the crowd. Whilst flowers were cast upon their feet and offerings of bread and goods were held out to them, they passed by Nadi's ramshackle store. It was Thorin, son of Thrain II, grandson of King Thror, who stopped and gazed down at her with curiosity.
"You, child, what are you selling?" He had towered over her then. So tall was he to her that he could have been a mountain. She shielded her eyes and put on her bravest face.
"Nothing that you can afford if you have not come to trade sensibly," she proclaimed. It was a phrase that she heard used often by the rawhide trader across from her. Though she didn't know exactly what it meant, it often elicited bemused looks. Thorin dipped his chin in thought.
"Alright, then. I will follow your rules. What of your spectacular wares would benefit a Prince such as myself?"
The young Nadi pretended to think it over for a moment and then picked out a bracelet that she had woven from stolen leather. She held it up to him and he allowed her to slide it up along his wrist.
"Three coins for the sampling, four more for the purchase," she said ignorantly and he laughed a full, deep laugh.
"No, I do not believe so, child. You are an excellent swindler but you still have much to learn. Here. A token for a token." Gently, he unwound an intricately woven silver string from a braid running along his beard and used it to tie her hair away from her face. She was amazed and intimidated by the sheer size of him as he leaned into her, and maybe it was this that rendered her suddenly speechless. Thorin straightened himself up and with a single, parting glance moved to rejoin his father and grandfather. It was only when he had moved far from earshot did she find her voice and say, "thank you, come back soon!"
X
Now, she sat before him again, years later, their circumstances much more oppressive and dire. Struck by a sudden thought, she squeezed her gloved hands along her mug and said, "Do you still have it?"
"Aye," he pushed his sleeve back, revealing, amongst many, the same exact bracelet that she had given him years ago. A smile twitched across her chapped lips and she sighed.
"Nadi," he said suddenly and reached out to grip her wrist, "it's time." For a moment, she thought that he was speaking of dinner and she moved to stand up but something about the sudden edge in his voice alarmed her.
"It's time?" She repeated stupidly and lifted her mug to her lips.
"To reclaim the Lonely Mountain and take back our gold."
Immediately she spit the contents of her mug back out and stared at him in disbelief. "I'm sorry, I-" she swiped her sleeve against her wet lips, glanced away from Thorin, and then looked at him again. "Reclaim the Lonely Mountain?"
"Aye."
"Take back our gold?"
"Aye."
"Thorin, I…" she wiped her lips again absentmindedly. "Even if you did, I…I am not the one to go with you."
"Are you against reclaiming that which was stolen from you, Nadi?"
"No, Thorin, I…"
There it was. The Curse, the very thing that had haunted her since her youth. Immediately her throat constricted and she fell mute before her King, as if an unseen hand had pressed itself to her neck. She stared at him desperately but he gave no response and she wondered if he had anticipated her silence. He regarded her for a few seconds in silence before saying, "then it is decided."
He stood up. "We leave tomorrow morning to meet the others." He walked towards the door and she hastily stood, desperate and yet unable to conjure any words.
"Thorin," she finally croaked as he placed his palm against her door. "Will KiIi be coming with us?"
He paused without looking back at her. "Pack your bags. We have a long journey ahead."