Of family and tea
Bella was feeling miserable. She was wet -drenched- to her very bones. Her hair was nothing more than a soggy mess and her soaked clothes glued to her skin.
The first few hours the rain had been a comfortable change. It was refreshing. Well, it wasn't any more. After three days of continuous rain her mood had hit rock bottom. The dwarrows were no better. None of them had talked to her since and even Bofur hadn't told any jokes in a while. The only hope Bella had left was the knowledge that the sky would be clear once lunch-time had passed.
Annoyed, she brushed another wild curl out of her eyes. This kind of weather was really the worst for her hair. Taming the golden-brown curls was a quest on its own when the weather was good, but the humid air made it almost impossible to keep them in any kind of braid. Frustrated, she opened her ponytail for the sixth time that day and redid her hair. She bound them as tight as she could manage without hurting herself in the process.
As predicted the sky cleared a few hours later. Thorin stopped the ponies near a large overhang. All of them were thankful for the break. The rain had washed away their enthusiasm and the cold meals were no joy either.
She walked over to Gloin and Bombur who were starting to light a fire. Bella wasn't sure how they even managed to produce more than smoke with the wet wood. Shivering she hugged her knees, drawing her legs closer to her body.
Something heavy and very, very warm was thrown over her shoulders, covering her entire body. Peeking out from under the large coat she could see Dwalin. The tattooed warrior was standing to her right side, looking down on her. His arms crossed and a blank expression on his face he just stared at her.
Dwalin could stare down almost anyone he wanted. Most people even actively avoided his gaze. The little hobbit lass on the other hand openly looked at him. She even sometimes searched for him while looking around and smiled as soon as he returned her look. It was confusing. How could such a tiny little creature withstand his stare, when even men and stealed warriors avoided him? She was one strange lass. Not complaining, not demanding a break when she obviously was exhausted enough to fall asleep while riding.
She did all the tasks Thorin had given her without a word of complaint. He had seen her giggling with the young princes, laughing at Bofur's silly jokes and excitedly trading receipts with Bombur. It was strange and fascinating at the same time to observe the many faces she could make, to witness how she laughed in one moment and was serious in the next. Even now she didn't fail to impress him.
Shivering next to the fire, looking more miserable than a cat that had been thrown into a river and still, not complaining. Before he himself even knew what was going on his coat was draped around her shoulders. Underneath his clothes she looked even smaller. With big green eyes she stared up at him. He returned the look, carefully not to let his expression slip.
He felt better as soon as she stopped shivering, he realised. They looked at each other for a few more awkward moments. Her big honest eyes pierced him, as if she could look into his very soul. Dwalin was the first one to look away. This was a premiere!
"We don't want you to catch a cold," he declared.
"Thank you, master Dwalin. Aren't you cold now?" she replied in a worried tone.
He looked down at her once again. Only true concern was to be found in her eyes. Later on Dwalin would name this particular moment as the start of 'the whole damn misery'. Bella tilted her head a bit as he didn't answer.
"No worry, mistress Baggins, we dwarrows run hotter than other races," and with that the conversation ended.
Bella separated herself from the group after they had built up their camp for the night and tiptoed to the near tree-line. Bifur was the only one who watched her. She signed him to keep quiet about it by holding one finger on her lips.
The first few days she hadn't had any opportunity as there had been no cover. The rain had interrupted her training for the last few days, but now she could finally continue. Yavanna knew she would need it soon enough. Hanging her waistcoat on a nearby branch she stepped into the clearing. Trees and bushes sheltered her from unwanted spectators. In one hand she holds her walking stick, in the other a smaller branch with the rough shape of a sword. Taking on a stable position she breathes in and out to calm her nerves and heartbeat. First she rehearsed the fundamental steps of blocking an attack from above, below and either side. Next she changed her strategy from blocking to attacking and then combining those two.
"Where is the hobbit?" Bofur was the first one to notice their burglar's absence.
A small panic, followed by chaos erupted as all the dwarrows looked around, searching the camp for any usable hints where she could have gone. Bifur and Nori were the only two still sitting by the fire.
Dwalin spotted his cloak neatly folded at the end of his bedroll. He frowned at the sight of it. He hadn't had the impression that she would reject his offer, maybe he should have clearly declared the coat as a gift, instead of just handing it over her shoulders. Well, he would have to do better next time before one of the other dwarrows would snatch his chance away.
"Her backpack and bedroll are still here. She wouldn't have wandered off without it, would she?" wondered Bombur.
The cook of the company had grown quite fond of the lass. Dwalin had seen them chatting for hours and hours about food and methods on cooking chicken and lamb and stews and what not. In fact they all had grown quite fond of the gentle little creature. She had been becoming a solid part of their company.
Even if Thorin still mutated into a stone-headed idiot as soon as she looked in his direction or came near him. Dwalin could perfectly understand that trusting a stranger was not easy, but she had welcomed the company in her home and left said home to reclaim theirs. She willingly came on a quest to potentially be eaten by a dragon for Mahals sake! He clenched his hands into fists.
"I am going to look for her, she wouldn't have gone far," Dwalin grunted, stomping off to the trees.
Bifur abruptly stood up and followed Dwalin into the shady forest.
They hadn't had to look for too long. Dwalin and Bifur found Bella on a small clearing, performing a fearful dance of destruction. Her staff in one hand and a -very poorly made- wooden sword in the other she spins over the ground. One step back, two forth, her feet barely touching the grass and moss. Jabbing, stabbing and slashing invisible opponents, while blocking attacks from all sides.
It was rather beautiful to watch, Dwalin admitted, still frightening at the same time. Bifur next to him seemed to enjoy himself as well. His gaze wasn't as clouded as on other occasions while he watched their gentle hobbit slashing the air.
Dwalin wasn't sure how to announce their presence without startling Bella. Bifur took the decision from his hands as he clapped enthusiastically when Bella dodged a low swing by crouching down and forcefully stabbing her sword up.
For a second Bella froze in her very motion. She hadn't expected any other sounds than the whispering of the trees around. The loud clapping took her by surprise. Before she could even comprehend what was happening her instincts kicked in and she threw the wooden sword in the direction of the sound. Back on her feet she looked over to the two figures in the shadows. With burning cheeks she realised that it had been Dwalin and Bifur who fell victim to her poor attempt of an attack. Bifur had the wooden sword in his hands, examining it. He only grunted at the pathetic try of carving a weapon.
"How long have you been standing there?" Bella asked breathlessly.
"Longer than you'd like I'd imagine." Dwalin crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking down at her.
Bifur said something in rapid Khuzdul, waving the sword around, before he simply broke it apart and threw the pieces over his shoulder.
"I need that to train!" she argued.
"I agree with Bifur on this, you can hardly call that thing a weapon, neither can you train properly with that."
Bifur nods furiously, gesturing towards her and Dwalin. Bella could only frown as he once again let loose a wave of Khuzdul.
Dwalin was amazed and utterly confused. She was a hobbit, there was no doubt. From her furry feet to her slightly pointy ears over the beardless face and the golden curls. A hobbit. A gentle creature… Well, sort of.
"Where did you learn to fight, lassie?"suspicious he watched her taking another swig out of her bottle.
Bofur sat beside her, eagerly carving a small wooden sword. Dwalin preferred to stand, arms crossed and staring once again down on the confusing creature. In this moment he realised that he knew close to nothing about her. They had been traveling together for a few months now and he knew her name and well… not much more.
He could judge her character by observing her, that he could. She was forgiving, to an extent that he would consider it a weakness. She was fond of food and eating, also of talking about food. He had seen her talking to Ori too, so he could assume that she liked to read and held a great deal of knowledge. Without a doubt she was brave, as she didn't hesitate to tell the dwarrows if something bothered her, but she never complained about minor things. All in all she was a confusing creature.
"You could say a dear friend taught me."
There was no hint of a lie in her expression, only a shadow of pain and grief over her face.
Bella averted her face from the dwarrows while speaking. Painful memories chased each other. The smell of blood seemed to once again linger in the air while cries of pain and sobs of grief filled the forest. A shiver ran down her spine.
'Not this time, definitely not this time. I will save them even if it takes my all!'
A large hand squeezed her shoulder and brought her back into the present. Glancing up she met Darwin's eyes. In there she could see the same pain that hunted her. Of course the warrior would understand her, even though she didn't say any more about it.
In her last life Dwalin had trained her mercilessly after fighting Azog. She never knew if it was a command Thorin gave or if the dwarf pitied her for not being able to fight.
'Maybe' a small part whispered 'maybe he wanted you to be safe?'
"Here, I made it with my own two hands," he held up a small dagger, silver vines ranking over the knob, "it will protect you when I cannot."
"This is beautiful!" she gasped, "I – I don't even know what to say, master Dwalin." Gently she brushed over the delicate ornaments.
Bifur next to her stopped carving to watch them both, a knowing grin on his lips.
"Is it not to your liking?"
Was that a small portion of panic in his voice? Startled, she looked up. The big dwarf had taken a step back, scratching his neck while studying the ground with extreme interest.
"What? No!" she cried out, "it is beautiful. I have never seen such a fine blade before. Are you sure to give it to me?"
Finally Dwalin looked her into the eyes. Relief and pride in his gaze he stepped closer, placing both hands on her shoulders and knocking their foreheads together. The impact wasn't that great, yet the world went dark.
The cheered 'namad' slowly died. After knocking their heads together the hobbit lass slumped down, eyes closed. Bile rose in his throat, had he killed his sister? With shaking hands he checked her breathing.
"She is a hobbit, you rockhead," Bifurs gruff voice reminded him in Khuzdul, "let Oin check her over."
Gently lifting the hobbit up they both left the clearing. Bifur carried her waistcoat and the partly finished sword for practice, while Dwalin held his newly won sister, his gift for her and the staff she had used earlier. Halfway to the camp they met Bombur and Bofur. Dwalin hurried past them without a word, followed by Bifur who signed 'Rockhead' to his family.
"She'll be fine. Just a bit of rest and sleep and tomorrow she'll be better than new," the healer assured the gathered dwarrows.
Those words took most of the tension from the company. Bombur excused himself to prepare tea if she should wake. Fili and Kili remembered that she had purchased a rather large sack of dried leaves in Bree and went off to get it off of Bella's pack. Dori fussed over the resting hobbit, bringing another blanket and freshening up the wet piece of fabric on her forehead.
Balin dragged his brother to the other side of the camp, no doubt to give him an ear full for his recklessness. Bofur volunteered to take first watch, and took Bifur with him, sitting down on a log a few feet from Bombur.
This left Thorin, Ori and Nori sitting by their burglar. Dwalin returned after an uncomfortable moment of silence. He fussed over the lass just like Dori before, adjusting the blankets and improvised cushion to make sure she would lie comfortably.
It was the first time Thorin had seen his friend so worried. He noticed a small dagger laying at the halflings side. After he had stared a while at it, he recognised it as Dwalin's. Nori, who had followed his king's gaze spotted the dagger as well. He knew of all the valuable belongings of the company, how else could he call himself spymaster?
"A very nice gift," Nori chimed, half joking half serious, "not the best choice if you wanted to court her though."
Thorin's guts froze at the mocking words. He kept his face unmoved although the sheer thought of Bella courting another- wait he didn't even care for her! There was nothing attractive about that gentle creature. Not her hazelnut curls that looked like rivers of gold in the firelight, nor the way she laughed at Bofur's jokes, or slightly frowned while exchanging knowledge with Ori. It wasn't cute how she smiled in her sleep and most definitely it wasn't attractive when she stood up to him or scolded his nephews when they pulled another silly prank on Ori.
"Watch your tongue, thief! She is my sister by right, as she accepted my gift. She even said she had never seen a better one," the warrior snarled at Nori.
A silent sigh of relief escaped the king while he watched Nori standing up, hands raised in surrender and joining Bombur by the fire.
Thorin watched Dwalin changing the wet cloth with the utmost care. A small red bump decorated the hobbit's forehead. He winced at the sight of the injury.
"I am not sure that mistress Bella actually knows what she accepted while accepting your gift, mister Dwalin," Ori murmured absorbed in his journal.
King and warrior looked at him in confusion. The scribe didn't seem to notice at first and it took almost all of Thorin's composure not to jump at Ori and question him in detail about everything he knew about the hobbit.
"What do you mean?" finally- finally Dwalin asked the question which burned like hot coals on Thorin's tongue.
"W-well… she is a hobbit after all. From what I l-learned they have a different culture. For example walking barefoot and eating seven meals a day. They don't know the concept of dwarven courting or receiving a gift to forge - to forge a family bond," at first Ori had hesitated, fidgeting with his hands and looking everywhere but at Dwalin and Thorin.
As he ventured further into his acquired knowledge he straightened himself and continued with a firm voice, "I was quite shaken when I had to explain that stone is not simply stone but that there are quite a few differences. She told me then that dirt is not simply dirt even though it could be divided into different sections and classes. – Oh, I am sorry. I am sure you wouldn't want me to bore you with different methods of farming. Where was I… Ah, right," he clears his throat.
If only to gather his thoughts or to build up tension, he definitely succeeded. "Hobbits are friendly folk. They make friends as easy as breathing and it wouldn't surprise me if she already considered us to be her friends. She might still be politely addressing us all with 'master' nonetheless she might have asked me if it would be considered rude to ask us to call her by her name. One of us should explain to her the importance of a self made or crafted gift and the honour it brings the dwarf whose gift was accepted," for a split second the shy scribe met Thorin's gaze. Ori flushed bright red, mumbling an excuse and hurrying off to sit by the fire with Bombur and Nori.
It was the first time that the two of them had heard their scribe talk that much in one go.
Thorin grunted displeased. He wouldn't mind if the young one would have talked a bit more. He wasn't quite sure if he could trust the hope that had sparked within him. How could the lass consider him as a friend? They barely talked and when they did he usually wasn't very polite. Well, she just rubbed him in the wrong places. Always challenging him with her looks and speaking up when she was displeased. Thorin simply didn't know how to react, so he spoke to her only when necessary and even then just the bare minimum.
Bella's eyes fluttered open. Groaning, she sat up, one hand pressed against her head, the other rubbing her eyes. How long had she been sleeping? The headache almost felt like a hangover. A distant memory of an evening she had spent with Bofur, after they had reclaimed the mountain, flared up. They had found the cellars, full of long forgotten wine and liquor. The feeling was quite similar, even if she couldn't remember drinking any alcohol.
"She's awake!" The one squeaking excitedly was Kili.
Bella only hissed as the loud voice that ringed in her ears. The dulled knock was undoubtedly Filis fist on his brother's head. She looked around their camp. Her dwarrows were still here, each and every one of them. For the better part of their journey she had always feared them gone after waking up. Bella hadn't slept a single night in peace, never more than a few hours before she would sit up and join whoever was on watch.
Fili came over, handing Oin a steaming mug. Proud the blonde prince looked at Bella.
"We made you some tea! We assumed it would please you," openly he smiled at her, giving her also a mug.
"Thank you, that is very thoughtful of you."hesitating, she smiled back, repressing the urge to ruffle through his blonde hair. It was a habit she had brought with her from her last life.
"What kind of tea did you make for me?" she asked instead.
"I noticed that you had purchased quite a big bag of dried leafs while we were in Bree, so I came to the conclusion that you must really like that blend of tea. Kili and I thought of trying it too, so we made some for the whole company. We all enjoyed the tea you gave us back in your home. I hope you don't mind."
Bella grew paler with each word the young prince stated. Peeking past Fili she could make out Kili in the process of bringing a steaming cup to his lips. She reached out and grabbed one of Filis hidden knives from beneath his jacket – how could he even move with so many weapons on him? – and threw it at the dark haired dwarf, hitting the mug and forcing it out of Kilis hand.
"Don't any of you dare to take a sip!" she yelled, while her head roared in pain.
Nori was the first one to act. A sharp blade was pressed against her throat, before she could blink. Bella didn't move. While Fili stood up to look after his brother Oin examined the content of the tea. He waved over Gloin to bring some dried leaves with him.
"By my beard, did you plan on poisoning the dragon with your tea?" the healer asked in confusion.
"What is in it, Oin?" the low growl from behind made her nearly jump.
Nori's blade was pressed firmer against her skin as she turned to watch Thorin.
"Wolfsbane, Oleander and deadly nightshade, also known as Belladonna." Oin answered honestly shocked.
For a fact, Bella did know that these herbs were poisonous to most races. She had aimed for these herbs because she knew the effect it would have on, well, any other creature than a hobbit.
Her plan had been to poison the trolls or at least disable them long enough for the dwarrows to take care of the matter. It wasn't the best plan, she had to admit, yet better than the outcome in her last life. She didn't fancy it to be used as a handkerchief twice!
"Let her go, thief! She clearly saved Kili and the rest of us from being poisoned," Dwalin snapped.
He didn't dare to hit Nori as he feared it would drive the blade further into Bella's flesh.
Nori wasn't even impressed, only when Thorin nodded sharply he slowly let go of her, backing away. In a split second Dwalin was by her side checking for a possible injury through the blade.
"You had me worried, namad," he blurted, angrily staring at Nori.
The thief in question backed further away.
"Namad? What does that mean?" Bella asked.
Confused, she looked around, stopping by Balin. The king's advisor sighted.
"One matter at a time, lassie. I guess we all have some explaining to do," he started, sitting down again.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the camp. Bella decided that there probably would be no better time to talk with them, than now. All eyes on her she reached down and took a deep sip from the tea.
"I agree with master Balin. I may not have told you everything, but I have never lied to you."