They decided to spend the day in the clearing of the forest, both to let the ponies and horses rest and to bathe in the stream.
I wasn't complaining, since Bilbo didn't get much sleep last night after my pathetic little breakdown, so he needed the rest (especially after he had to help me strip, change and then wash the tunic free from my vomit stains). Luckily, the Dwarves were too busy stripping and throwing each other into the stream to notice him sneaking in that morning nap.
I stayed behind at the camp with him, along with Fili, Kili, Oin, Bombur, Ori and Gandalf. They had all bathed beforehand and were drying off in the afternoon sun. They all made a point of ignoring me once more, except for Fili and Kili, who were looking at me with an expression I couldn't pinpoint. I'm not even going to try to figure out what that's about.
Bilbo laid next to me, using my shadow to block out the sun while he caught up on the sleep I took from him. Not going to lie, a sleeping Bilbo is cute as fuck. I was mending the holes in the socks and trousers that finally finished drying while reading the next few chapters of the book. I'll bathe after I finish this, even if it's simply rinsing off in the stream. I'd rather avoid them seeing me naked at all costs and vice versa.
This chapter of the book was different than the others, yet it was frankly boring since it just talked about the social structures and hierarchies that elves tend to have. I kind of expected them to have a hierarchy since this is basically the Middle Ages, but I still don't like it. Family name and acts of service were seen as important, both of which I lacked and have no hope of getting anytime soon. Not that I want to get them since being in the spotlight in this place is way too stressful.
Shut up. I know damn well that I'm a hypocrite for joining this quest if I wanted to fade into the background. But in my defense, I didn't really have much of a choice when Gandalf saw me. Even if I wasn't here to protect Bilbo, he was going to drag me out regardless.
See, I wasn't a fan of the Feudal System and the fact that most people here have their lives determined by what their ancestors did a few thousand years ago or be seen as a greater person due to breeding/noble blood (most of which was bound to end in incest at some point). I don't know why they put so much emphasis on familial lines and who your parents were, since I don't think that it's fair to judge a child for the sins of their parents.
I know plenty of people with terrible parents who become amazing human beings. A person's strength isn't determined by shitty Middle Ages genetics, nor by which family they managed to be born into.
I am of the opinion that the reason why peasants and members of the lower class aren't known or become great was because they never had the opportunities to grow, much like how it is in my own world. It's hard to become a great warrior when the training was unavailable to you, much like how you cannot become a great author without being taught how to read and write. Nobles and the rich have the advantage, like always, and I didn't like it.
Even if the Nobility and Royalty we see in the books and movies seem too noble true, I highly doubt that the rest of them are like that. When you give someone power over another, something in them snaps and changes and they become cruel, uncaring and see those under them as less than human. I've taken enough Psychology and Criminal Justice classes to not trust anyone, even if they appear nice and kind.
Power be damned. I don't trust it.
Frankly, I don't give much of a shit about it if you're an ass, which most people who grew up with money turn out to be. Main characters of the books be damned. Those are biased accounts by the author to get the audience to root for their victory.
We can't exactly root for the King to win if we see him smacking the shit out of a servant or ordering the burning of villages. If they do happen, it's because the victims were evil and did something horrible to deserve it. Their reigns are peaceful and just and they have never done anything wrong afterwards, only living to make their people happy.
What a load of bullshit.
I do not trust anyone in a position of power. Power corrupts and these ancient times didn't have the checks and balances that people needed to keep themselves from growing all loco. Sure, power is distributed by the King to the Lords and their vassals, but they can lose that favor and be stripped easily. Plus, the King isn't always there to check and see if the Nobles are keeping their people happy or taxing them into starvation.
That's not even getting started in the times of war. Those are the most terrifying times for me. Men and boys being ordered to go to the front lines and die for their King, even if they have never touched a sword or bow before. They could be sent on suicide missions to buy time for the King and the only person that would remember them is their families that would in turn get nothing for their deaths.
It may be necessary, but I don't like the idea of dying for someone that wouldn't even look at you in their normal life. There has never been a King out there that did everything for their people. Not once in human history, even the great kings and rulers we are taught to admire.
Queen Elizabeth the First was temperamental and abusive towards her staff and family and approved of torture. King Henry the 8 th executed so many people and was an awful husband. Bloody Mary burned people alive. Alexander the Great and the enslavement of his enemies. Monarchs who hoarded wealth and let their people die in the streets. The US government and their atrocities towards minority communities. And much, much more.
People aren't meant to be in charge by themselves, because they go mad with wealth. Even normal people change when they inherit some money or go into a position of power. My roommate running for Student Senate, for example.
It's terrifying and no one should have that much power.
But I'm rambling.
According to this book and the highlighted sections that I assume the weird old lady noted, I'm at the bottom of the social pyramid, so my social expectations are different. I have no titles, land or wealth outside of what the Shire has given me, as well as no formal education or recognized skills.
This limited the jobs that I could have in the future, unless I could convince a Master to take me on as an apprentice without knowing my family history. None of the crafts that Elves favored seemed like my thing, like blacksmithing or scribe work. Even simpler, more necessary jobs like farmers and tailors, required at least some form of training in said field, which I didn't have a family connection to. The most I could be in my current situation is a common servant while trying to learn a trade on the side, which I would rather not.
I don't want to stay in an elven city if it meant leaving Bilbo, nor do I want to go back to working for someone else. I was basically a servant at my old job, only without the possibility of being hit every time I spilled or broke something. Here would just be worse off, since I doubt they have labor laws to protect the common people. Besides, the only person I will clean and cook for is Bilbo.
Thank God I'm a nobody here.
I was a blank slate and entirely unimportant to anything in society. I was a faceless being, neither important enough to consider or to care about. I just have to keep my head down, be respectful and do everything they tell me to do, then fade into the background where they won't be able to hurt me since they won't care enough.
Seems simple enough.
The rules themselves were pretty clear and simple. Be respectful, speak when spoken to, don't make a scene, yada yada. The only part I found interesting was how to address elves based on social status and titles, more specifically my status.
Did you know that Elves had different ways of bowing to each other depending on social rank?
Friends and family of the upper class bow just slightly with their hand over their heart, with eye contact for respect. This also goes for common people greeting each other if they're familiar or close.
Greeting a Lord and his Lady is similar, though you bow just a little lower and have your eyes to the ground if they are above you in rank.
High ranking Stewards and elves that belong to a King's court required a bow at the waist with your hands clasped in front of you (apparently to ensure that no weapons are present) and you may only lift your eyes if they approve.
With Kings, I was required to kneel and keep my head down when addressing them and only speak when spoken to. My hands were always where someone could see them, and sudden movements were highly discouraged. Rarely would someone of my status be granted an audience with a King, so it was important that I knew my place in court. Kind of gross, but I didn't expect anything better.
At least it was easy to remember.
I've seen enough anime and read enough historical fiction to at least pull off some of the fancy etiquette stuff. Plus, I'm utterly shameless and have no issues with getting on the ground or praising someone or even getting stepped on, though I hope that last one doesn't happen. Something tells me that as much as I think noblemen are dicks, they won't just have me lick their boots for no reason.
Thankfully, I'm boring enough to go unnoticed by them. I'll just breeze through this quest, follow the storyline, and make my way back to the Shire to live out the rest of the time left until I can either find my way back home to my body or I inevitably perish. As long as I keep my mouth shut and stay behind this Company, I'll be fine.
I better be fine.
This better not be some foreshadowing, or I will throw hands.
I finished with the last sock just as I finished the chapter. The next few pages were about the types of food Elves eat, which was far less interesting since I really could not give a shit. Food was too weird of a topic for me to care about recipes and ingredients. Proper dining procedures I could get behind reading, but I don't need to know the 20 or so types of salad they have.
Either way, I am not too worried about the small details so long as I know them. I'm not from any of the Elven settlements, so I can always give the excuse of different customs and expectations. I already speak a language no one has ever heard of, so it won't be too difficult to convince them. I hope it just doesn't end up with them asking too many questions.
"Elf!" I jumped, shutting the book on instinct.
It was Thorin again, with wet hair and skin, marching his way over to me. His shout had woken Bilbo up, who was huffing with annoyance.
"Have you finished your task?" He asked, gruff and demanding as always, but without the cruelty that I was expecting.
Guess he finally learned not to piss Bilbo off.
I nodded, gesturing towards the pile of socks and trousers that I had folded and organized. He nodded back.
"Good. You may go bathe. The rest of us are done. When you return, I have a few more tasks for you." He said, then walked away before Bilbo could fully wake up.
Bilbo pushed himself up, yawning and stretching out his back. I ignored the few pops I heard and pushed my way over to our bags where our towels and his spare clothes were. Soap and a brush were easy to find, as well as a wide toothed comb for his curly hair. Lastly, I grabbed two scrubs to clean off all the dirt buildup.
Bilbo pushed himself up, still groggy from his nap, and followed me up.
"How was your nap?" I asked, helping him fix his tangled and slightly frizzed hair. "Hopefully the sun didn't bother you too much."
He shook his head, shaking back another yawn.
"It was a fine nap, thank you. I guess your height is useful for something." He joked and smacked my hand away like the rude old man that he was. "Did you grab everything?"
"I did." I said, handing him his stuff. "We can go bathe in the clearing away from the Dwarves. They should be done by now, so we'll have some privacy."
"Good." Bilbo nodded.
The clearing was surprisingly clean for being used for rowdy Dwarves that liked to throw each other in the water. Sure, it was a little muddy near the shallow areas, but that was to be expected.
Bilbo moved over to the shallow area of the pool where he could submerge himself and I moved over to the deeper end. I turned around while he stripped, and he did the same for me.
I didn't look at myself when I was stripping, instead moving into the warm water as soon as the clothes came off. I tried not to look down, knowing the moment that I saw myself I would start scratching my impossibly clear skin again.
I hated looking at myself when bathing. I hated looking at myself in general (I threw out all the mirrors in the house for this exact reason). I hated being reminded of this awful, beautiful body with its smooth skin and wrong parts and curves in different places. Washing and bathing was my least favorite part of life so far and I would have skipped it if Bilbo wasn't there to keep me on schedule. Sanitation be damned.
I hated this. I really hated this.
I shuddered when I ran my hands over my flat chest, shutting my eyes and dunking my head under the water. I stayed underneath it for a hot minute, getting used to the temperature and hoping it would at the very least distract me enough to get this done quickly. Otherwise, I'd start feeling myself up until it sent me into a crying fit.
I'm ok. I'm alright. One step at a time and then I can be done with this. First the hair. Just focus on the hair for now.
I didn't open my eyes again, only once to grab the soap, as I washed away the buildup of oils and sweat from the previous week. I paid more attention to my hair than anything else, since I could at the very least pretend that it was the same as my old body (except not really, since even the texture now was different). I scrubbed until I couldn't anymore and went back under the water, staying there until I had to come back up for air.
I'm doing fine. You're doing fine, Aria. You can do this. Just finish fast.
Once that was cleared, I stood up to let the cool spring air shock me into another distraction. It barely worked, since this body also didn't perceive temperature the same way. I swallowed hard and held my breath as I lathered up the scrub and ran it across my skin, scrubbing hard enough to turn it red and cause it to sting. It took most of my willpower to keep my hands from staying on my chest or my hips or from going lower.
Rinsing the soap off was the last step, one that I did as fast as I could. It had barely been 15 minutes before I was back out, crawling to the bank and grabbing the towel.
"Are you done already?" Bilbo asked, concerned. "Are you heading back now?"
I shook my head, drying off quickly. Bilbo hadn't even started washing his hair yet, just now finishing combing through it. He was holding the bottle of soap up towards me.
"Not yet. I'll wait for you. Do you want me to help you wash your back or hair?" I asked.
"That would be appreciated. Thank you."
I finished drying off and changing back into my clothes before rolling up my sleeves.
Kili was not proud of himself.
He knew he should have left the book back where it was and confessed to his elf what he had done while begging for forgiveness. He should have let his elf take his anger out on him or state his price for his love back. What Kili shouldn't have done, however, was wait until he had left to rummage through his bags again for the book.
"What are you doing?" Fili cried, alerting everyone to Kili's deed.
Kili, however, ignored his brother and yanked opened the bag his elf had left on the ground. Glírae hadn't noticed that his things weren't in order last night or had given any indication that he knew about his privacy being invaded. This was pushing his luck and he found himself not caring at the moment. He needed to confirm something, for the sake of his beloved's health.
He only prayed that Glírae would forgive him for this.
"Kili, put the bag down." Balin ordered, standing up to march over to him.
Kili moved away, closer to Thorin who was glaring at him in disapproval yet not saying anything to get him to stop. If anything, he too looked interested in the sketchbook.
"No, hold on a moment. There's something in here that I need to see." He said.
He opened the book just as Balin and Gandalf had both had reached him. There was a hand on his shoulder, but it froze before it could pull him back. The footsteps stopped, along with his heart and breath. Gandalf breathed in sharply and Balin let out a horrified cry. Even Thorin behind him let out a small gasp as Kili flipped the pages with trembling hands.
He barely noticed when the others had rushed behind him as well, each fighting for a look at the book's pages.
The images on the pages were beyond disturbing, even more so since his beloved was the one who drew them. The ink across the pages was messy and scratched in some images, and smooth and precise on others. The charcoal was smudged and rushed, as if he was not used to handling it, yet blended in with his lines. Each page, however, was water stained and crumbled, as if someone were crying while over them.
It was the content however, that turned his stomach.
A girl floating in a white space, naked and crying while a dozen hands tore apart her body, while others covered her eyes or pulled her hair. The word "Whore" was written on her chest as if carved into her skin.
Someone clutching their head and screaming, yanking harshly on their hair, their arms scratched and bleeding ink while their eyes were X-ed out.
A person kneeling and tearing out their own heart, this one with a liberal use of red ink across the chest and eyes.
A figure that was choking on and vomiting red flowers with the words "I love you" scribbled throughout the page.
And half of the pages were images of figures, both masculine and feminine, bound by chains in various positions, some resigned and delicate while others fighting for their lives. He found the ones where they looked dead and unresponsive to be the more terrifying.
Kili couldn't make it to the end of the sketchbook and had to shut it before he made himself vomit. He was trembling by the time Gandalf snatched the book from him. The Wizard was as angry and shaken as he was, but he still took the time to smack Kili across the head with said book and scream at everyone to go back to where they were.
Kili didn't care. He had indeed confirmed his suspicions and made them even worse.
Glírae was not alright.
He wasn't too sure about elves, but for Dwarves, art and creations were made from the very core of their souls. Each creation, no matter if it were a small practice or a grand masterpiece, has every bit of themselves poured into it. You could tell so much about a Dwarf just from their craft alone, from their health to their personality and life experience. Even if he had never met another elf, he had seen Elven crafts and had assumed it to be the same, with how they buzzed with life and energy.
Something that dark, that disturbing, did not paint a good image on the artist.
What happened to him? Who had hurt him in such a way?
Thankfully, Glóin was the one to ask the question first.
"Those drawings...they were not normal. Something happened to him..." His voice trembled. "The lad is not normal. Surely you have noticed it by now?"
Kili found himself nodding as he joined the Dwarves and Gandalf in a large meeting circle.
"You mean how he jumps at every noise and follows the halfling like a dog waiting for orders?" Nori asked, lighting his pipe with shaking hands. "Or how he believes certain behaviors are normal?"
They all nodded. Kili took a deep breath, but the words he was going to say died before they could leave his lips.
"Something must have happened to him. Right, Mr. Gandalf?" Ori asked, trembling lightly as well.
"It is not my place to say anything, though I fear you may be right." Gandalf said, looking into the trees with a disturbed look on his face. "Excuse me. I have much to think about and won't cloud my judgement with this discussion. I will return shortly."
They said nothing until he had left, disappearing into the trees with his staff and a large bag of pipeweed. He had taken the sketchbook with him.
"What do you think happened to him?" Kili asked, though he dreaded the answer. "Do you think it has anything to do with his hair?"
Every Dwarf winced, with Glóin grabbing his own braids as if they too would be taken.
"It may very well be. He may have hued his hair if something happened to him-"
"It doesn't look as if he cut it himself." Thorin said, his voice turned cold. "Even if he were disgraced or in grief, no elf would ever cut it so short that it could not be braided. It's far too even as well. It was cut by someone else."
Glóin growled in anger, and Kili was close to doing the same. Dori snapped a twig and the others paled considerably. Poor Ori was clenching how own beard to his chest.
Kili didn't even try to suppress the feeling of pure, burning anger that was rising from his chest. The thought of anyone putting their hands on his elf, pulling at his beautiful hair and cutting it against his will was almost enough to get him to run after him and take him in his arms. It was a crime, a violation, an act of pure sadism to even consider destroying someone's pride like that.
They would pay with their lives.
"You believe it was cut by force?" Kili asked.
"I do." Thorin nodded. "You have seen the images. There was nothing consensual in them and they are far too passionate to be false."
"I don't think the boy knows what consent means." Balin said, chewing on his pipe hard enough to leave indentations in the wood. "HIs views are distorted, to say the least."
Distorted was putting it lightly. What he would give to show his elf that sex was not meant to harm a partner, but to bring them closer together and tie their souls in passion and love. It was something they would need to work on and fix, for Glírae's own health and healing. Once he was engaged and courting him, he would show him exactly what love was supposed to feel like.
"Everything about him is distorted." Thorin said. "The look in his eyes when he had returned from his run into the forest. I recognized it."
Kili looked at his uncle in confusion. Sure, he had seen Glírae's pale and dazed look, but it had seemed normal enough considering he had just awoken from an awful nightmare. It's what Fili had looked like when he dreamed of his bed eating him as a child. Glírae was back to normal within the hour, so he didn't think much of it.
"Many of those that had survived the Dragon, Moria, and the years that followed bare that look." Balin explained to the confused Dwarves. "Where they are here, yet their minds are not. So lost in the memories they are, that the world itself melts away until they can find their way back. It is as if they were back in those terrible years."
Thorin nodded, then stood to full authority.
"I will not speculate on what happened to him and neither will the rest of you. We will forget we have ever seen those pages and you will say nothing to him about it. Understood?"
Kili nodded, though he knew that those images were burned into his heart forever.
As he moved back to his area to pack up his belongings, he knew what he had to do.
He was going to win his elf's heart, it only to make his suffering go away. He was sure of it