- Chapter 41 -
With a nod of his head, he dismissed both of their guards and they took to the streets, walking side by side.
"You're going to have to teach me how to do that," she grumbled while she watched the guards fall back.
He raised an eyebrow amusingly. "Unfortunately, my father's commands outweigh my own and even I cannot dismiss them completely."
"So they'll still follow?"
"Sort of." He gave her a sideways glance and a small grin. "They just wont be on our heels and we can talk in private."
Nodding, they fell into silence as they walked for a ways. She let him lead, trusting that he knew where he was going. They climbed a few stairs, made some turns, and were now walking along a deserted part of the city. No one seemed to be in the area and she noted that even though this place had seen war, most of the refugees of Lake-town seemed content to dwell in the center or northern edges of the city. It would probably be a few years before this part of Dale saw much activity, but she had no doubt the refugees would seek out the less damaged homes to claim as their own.
"Where are we going?" she asked, hating to break the silence.
"Just a little ways yet," he said, and she followed along quietly.
It was weird, being alone with him and away from everyone else. For weeks – no...months – now, she'd been surrounded by so many others that she'd almost forgotten how nice it could be to just take a walk.
He led them up more stairs until they were on a higher level overlooking the city. They came to stop at a short wall and he leaned against it, his eyes flowing over the rooftops below. She slid her hands over the top of the wall, feeling the hard white stone across her skin and followed his gaze. As darkness encroached upon them, torchlight illuminated the streets and claimed dwellings. The outskirts of the city were still watched by the King's guards, and even the front gates of Erebor were lit up with torchlight.
The battlefields still smoked as the remains of their enemies corpses smoldered and broke down; piled high in mounds that'll eventually be buried deep in the ground and out of sight forever more.
They could still hear voices float up to them from down below, drifting on the chilly fall breeze. There were no sweet, fall scents to fill her mind with happy feelings, only the lingering smell of dirt and smoke. Now that she was up high, she had a clearer view of Dale and its red clay rooftops and white stone walls. Long shadows crept into the streets as the sun sank down lower and lower, and they stood in silence until the last light of the day faded, casting them into darkness.
The night sky was bright though, and thousands of stars sparkled above them. She could hardly take her eyes away from them and found herself getting lost in their depths. She didn't know if she could ever turn away now, and a sense of peacefulness washed over her that hadn't been there in months.
A rough, calloused hand slid over hers, surprising her and it drew her back from her thoughts and away from the stars above. Her eyes fell on his, and something inside her shifted just a bit more. His touch sent a warm tingle through her arm and somehow his hand over hers just felt right.
He was watching her but his expression was hard to decipher, so she just stared back as if trying to commit his face to memory or something like that. His fingers squeezed hers softly and he looked back out over the city again, letting go an almost inaudible sigh. They soaked up the silence for a little while, neither of them having had much over the last week.
He pulled his hand from hers, and leaned his elbows on the wall, folding his hands together. "This is not how I imagined I would bond," he said quietly, as if speaking to himself.
She stared at him and then looked away, unsure of what he meant by that. She never planned on bonding at all, so perhaps he was disappointed that he'd bonded with her and not someone else. Gandalf told her he spoke to Legolas and Thranduil about her past, something she wasn't sure she was overly comfortable with. She didn't like answering questions about her old life, it hurt too much and they were bound to ask her about it...weren't they? But surely learning she'd only been in this world for four and a half years was unsettling to him.
Interlacing her fingers together, she stared at the edge of the wall feeling completely disheartened. An elf only bonded once in their lifetime, and while she could feel the pull towards him, she suddenly felt like she would never be good enough for a Prince and warrior like he was. Perhaps she was disappointing to him altogether.
"I wanted to talk to you, that's why I brought you up here," he said, snapping her out of her unhappy thoughts.
"If it's about Iamben, I already know," she said, hugging herself to the wall as her fingers curled around the edges of the stone, holding her in place. He raised his eyebrows. "Gandalf told me tonight over supper. Don't worry, I won't say anything."
She didn't dare mention that Thorin knew, but Gandalf assured her the King Under the Mountain would take her secret to his grave if needed, and wouldn't tell a soul. Thorin of course, did mention to the wizard that there were plenty of deep caverns in Erebor if she needed to make a few councilors go missing, and she certainly wasn't going to mention that to Legolas either.
He watched her closely and nodded slowly.
"You seem more irritated than worried," he said, and she gave him a sideways glance.
"Just frustrated, I guess. You say this isn't how you imagined bonding would go, well, I never expected it to happen myself," she said, then in a small voice added, "To be honest I don't know how to feel about it in general. Seems like an awful lot of secret keeping and hiding."
"I didn't want the councilors to pressure you into staying. Neither of us are ready for this just yet. I am more accepting of it than you are right now, only because I know what it can mean."
"I never said I didn't accept it, I just feel like maybe you're disappointed or mad about it." She pulled away from the wall and turned around but he stopped her from walking off by putting a hand on the groove of her elbow.
"Disappointed?" he frowned. "You think I am disappointed I bonded with you?"
She shrugged dramatically. "Honestly, I can't tell if your mad, disappointed, irritated or -,"
She didn't get to finish her sentence because his hands suddenly cupped her face and she froze, his eyes locked on hers.
"Shyloh. I am not disappointed, or mad that I bonded with you at all. Did I not tell you on top of Ravenhill that you were the one I had been waiting for all these years?"
A trembling breath escaped her lips. "I can't help but feel that your angry or mad. During the battle, when you would look at me, you looked so angry, and I can't help but feel like you have every right to be disappointed with me."
"I was not angry at you, I was angry because you were there. You should have been back in the safety of the Palace, not in the middle of a war. And what would make you think I would be disappointed with you?"
"Why wouldn't you be? Gandalf said he told you and your father about my past," she drew away from him then and stepped back. "I've only been here for a few years. There's still so much I don't know. I'm hardly qualified to fight in a war much less bond with a Prince and Captain of the Woodland Realm. There are far better elleths out there than me. Probably ones that aren't also friends with dwarves." she said, then added sourly, "Apparently it goes against the code of being an elf."
When she looked back up at him he was grinning so she frowned. "I'm willing to overlook the dwarf thing," he said. "As long as you don't ask me to befriend them."
She laughed and rolled her eyes and he stepped a little closer. "I do not regret bonding with you, nor am I upset that you were the one my soul chose, so please do not let those thoughts plague your mind."
He stared down at her until she felt her defensive walls crack and fall away a little, then nodded and pressed her lips together, feeling much better than she had in days. He stepped a little closer and with a hand, brushed her cheek with his fingertips. Her breath caught in her lungs at his touch, a tingle of electricity flowed down the nape of her neck.
"Can you feel that?" he asked quietly, and she nodded slowly. "That is our bond. I can feel your emotions just like you are starting to feel mine. One day, you will learn how to tell my emotions apart from your own, and you'll feel the threads start to form."
"It's like electricity, I don't know how to explain it otherwise."
His eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know what electricity is," he said, looking rather confused.
"It's energy, like a spark," she said, kicking herself for her poorly chosen words.
He nodded but she could tell he didn't really understand but he didn't press her for more information. His fingertips slid around towards the back of her head, and she could feel his fingers entwine with her hair just the slightest. It sent a small tingling sensation down into her torso, and when he removed his hand, a small lock of white hair slid between his fingers.
"May I?" he asked, and she nodded, not even having a clue what he was doing. He stepped even closer until he was right up next to her, and when she breathed in she could smell pine and forest, and it was almost intoxicating.
His fingers worked quickly, and he tied off the small braid in her hair, then let it fall down over her shoulders. Reaching a hand up, she trailed the braid from the nape of her neck, down to the end.
"A warrior's braid," he said, stepping back. "You faced your first battle."
"Do all guards and such have them?"
"You are not a guard, nor a soldier. You are a warrior." He leaned on the wall once more, leaning his elbow on it and gave her a wry smile.
"A warrior," she said slowly, and stepped back up to the wall, this time stepping just a little closer to him, feeling a little more confident and a bit more comfortable. "Hard to think of myself as one."
"Perhaps you should stay in the Woodland Realm, and learn some of our techniques," he said casually but she could hear the slight challenge in his voice.
She couldn't help but smile. "Perhaps you should come to Rivendell, and learn some of our own."
He laughed. "Maybe one day I will. I've been told Lord Glorfindel is a strict instructor."
Her smile grew. "He is. Don't expect to sleep in again."
He laughed again then took in her purple gown. "That dress really is lovely on you," he said, sobering up a little.
She blushed and was glad it was dark. "You're not too bad yourself," she said with a shy smile.
Light footsteps pattered away back down the slowly emptying streets of the city. The dark cloaked figure kept to the shadows so as not to arouse suspicion. Once she reached the busier streets, she shifted the basket she held out in front of her, holding it with both hands. If anyone looked at the elf, they would only assume that she'd been to the supply wagons to fetch her Lady's things. She steadied her footsteps and sobered her face.
When she saw the two of them sneak off, and they'd certainly snuck off, otherwise he would not have been without his guards, she just had to follow them. Had his guards been close to him, they would have indeed spotted her. She prided herself on her sneakiness, and grinned. Even with her keen elvish hearing she couldn't make out their entire conversation but when he raised his voice just the slightest it was very clear to her. Oh, how her Lady would hate this news, and suddenly her smile faltered as she reached the tent and stepped under the flap the guard outside lifted for her.
"My Lady," she curtsied, and hesitated. "I have news of the Prince."
Perfect eyebrows rose and Lastril twisted around in her seat. "Pray tell, Farril, what is it?"
The horns of Erebor blew in what she assumed was supposed to be a melodious tune, and the vibrations of them reverberated through her body like a deep wave. It was slightly unsettling, and couldn't help but make her wonder if this was what a small earthquake might feel like beneath her feet.
Gandalf gave her a small smile but it did not reach his sad eyes. On his other side, Bilbo dabbed at his cheek, wiping a little tear away with a finger. So far she'd done well and hadn't cried, even as she passed by Fili's lifeless body on the stone bed he was laid upon. His face wore a strangely peaceful expression despite the fact he was dead; eyes closed forever more, pale and cold.
She'd paused by his side and placed the small flower upon his chest. It wasn't much, but she'd seen it growing just outside the wall of Dale, and couldn't help but pick it and bring it with her. It seemed fitting that she lay it upon him, and hoped no one would find offense. Devastation ripped through her as she tried to recall his smile and the sound of his laugh, and when the lump formed in her throat she was suddenly choked up and had to move on before the onslaught of tears could escape.
Thorin bowed to her so she inclined her head, and he took her hand a gave it a tight squeeze. "Thank you for coming my friend," he said to her.
She only managed a pained smile and a nod of her head, not trusting herself to speak lest she really break down. The burly, red haired dwarf next to him with beady little eyes, who Gandalf had whispered in her ear was named Dain – Thorin's cousin – gave her a narrowed eyed suspicious look, and only nodded his head jerkily at her before she turned down the row and made a beeline for Kili.
Tucked inside members of the original company, Kili looked positively devastated, and his tear filled eyes looked up at her. Tauriel she noted, was no where in sight. He tried to give her a smile but it faltered, and she couldn't stop herself when she leaned down and wrapped him in a tight hug.
Not taken by surprise at all, he hugged her back.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered in his ear, and he squeezed her tightly.
Now as the funeral was wrapping up, she stood with her hands clasped together in front of her as Thorin led the procession out of the funeral hall. The three of them followed the dwarves quietly and somberly. Gandalf took her hand and wrapped it around his arm, and gave her fingers a little pat. She tried to give him a small smile but any sort or sign of happiness completely escaped her emotional abilities.
Thorin and his company gathered then, and that included the three oddballs. Thorin had mead passed around to all fourteen of them and then he raised his mug.
"To Fili," was all the King said, and the others raised their tankards and repeated his name in a toast, then the dwarves drank like dwarves always do.
She on the other hand, sipped at her mead curiously, never before having tried the mead of the dwarves, and was surprised when it didn't taste completely awful. She was only able to finish some of it before passing it along to Bilbo, who had no problem finishing it off for her as the dwarves indulged in another round. They ate together at a long table in celebration of Fili's life and sacrifice to his people, and the mead was passed around generously while the company recounted their journey for all who wanted to listen.
The dwarves of the Iron Hills still looked at her suspiciously, even though they knew her part in the dwarves quest to reclaim Erebor, but as the mead flowed they became less suspicious and a bit more drunk. Gandalf on the other hand, had become unusually quiet to the point it caught her attention. When she questioned him about the dark look on his face, he only brushed aside her worries and went back to his old self. Whatever was on the wizards mind was for him to know, and as Shyloh went back to her midday meal, the wizards mind was laden with more troubles.
Gandalf watched her carefully, now knowing what he knew, and dreaded having to take her back to the city. For the first time in a while, she looked happy and content, and the thought of ruining her good spirits - despite the fact they just had a funeral - was saddening.
Gandalf announced their departure before the feast got any merrier, and Thorin and the entire company rose and led them from the halls to the front gates of the mountain. It was a somber affair, saying goodbye to all of them, and she gave them all a hug – even Dwalin – who actually surprised her by hugging her in return and clapping her on the back with a smile.
"You do smile!" she announced and the dwarves laughed.
"It has been known to happen," he admitted but she could see him blush.
Bilbo didn't handle the goodbyes as well as Shyloh and Gandalf, and he wiped tears away from his cheek with a handkerchief. The pony Bilbo led was laden with items from the dwarves for the three of them; wrapped up and carefully tucked away and out of sight for their journey. She had no idea what they packed for her, even though she told them it wasn't necessary. Despite that, they only smiled and watched the three of them sadly as they left Erebor.
It was a slow walk back to the city, and despite the heaviness of the funeral, the day was warm and sunny and she lifted her face skyward to soak up the sun. Gandalf on the other hand, was frowning heavily and as they walked he puffed on his long pipe, sending puffs of grey smoke into the breeze.
"You look like someone spit in your tobacco pouch," she said after giving him a long, calculating look. "You going to tell me what's wrong or...?"
"Wrong?" he asked. "What makes you think something is wrong?"
"Because you look like someone spit in your tobacco pouch," she repeated, and Bilbo cracked a smile.
Gandalf raised his eyebrows and stared thoughtfully ahead. "I do not think anything is wrong exactly, just a few minor complications I think that we were hoping to avoid."
"What does that mean?" she asked, lifting up the hem of her silver skirt.
Another big puff of smoke drifted out of his mouth. "It means, dear elf, that you will find out soon enough I am afraid."
Frowning, she and Bilbo exchanged confused looks.
"Something I should be prepared for?" she wondered and he only hummed.
Rolling her eyes, they walked in silence the rest of the way until they reached the gates where Arossel was already waiting. The look on the maid's face told her something was wrong because it mirrored Gandalf's exactly. When Sidhel stepped out from behind her, Shyloh definitely knew something was wrong. Behind him, Nodron waited with Tinnion and Eithrian, and she stopped in her tracks. Their frowns and weapons in place, Shyloh's lips parted to ask what had happened but someone stepped up behind her. A voice whispered in her ear, sending a startling shiver down her spine.
"I hear you have had quite the adventure, little cousin."
A slightly shorter chapter, my apologies. Lots more to proof read before posting, so certainly more to come.
Guest - I hope you see this, because your review was so nice and inspiring. Thank you for your kind words!
LDiana - Yes, they definitely needed some time together and I think it'll do them good. Totally happy Lastril was put in her place too. Thank you!
Thank you for the reviews, they're very inspiring. Lot of things to come once I finish proofreading the next few chapters.
- S
