Thorin paced up and down frantically, while Dwalin watched helplessly, tears welling up in his eyes. After their wagon had been attacked, and she had been taken, Thorin had fought with a rage that reminded Dwalin of the great battle at the gates of Erebor. They had fought their way, with Thorin dispatching anything that stood in his path, and yet the warg that had carried her off had out run them.
"Laddie, ye need to let me tend to yer wounds." Oin arrived in the atrium where they stood. It was almost as though the wood and stone that built Lorien was part of the great wood that belonged to the White Lady. "Lord Celeborn has sent out his best parties to track along the river –"
"I know she is alive. I know it." Thorin insisted. "But do not ask me to stay here and wait…"
"The water there is the roughest I have seen, and the fall great…" Nori followed Oin, he too was unable to hide his despair. He too had sustained nasty injuries during the battle, limping on one leg uncomfortably as he moved.
Thorin turned viciously at him to grab his tunic.
"She is not dead: she is a particularly strong swimmer – I would say even better than I can." He growled at poor Nori, who merely nodded. "No. I must be out with their riders and trackers to find her – otherwise what kind of husband am I?!"
Oin interrupted him, the old healer placed his hand on Thorin's arm.
"Very well, my King, but your wife would not wish that your wounds were left untended. Or you would bleed to death." He pointed at a large gash on Thorin's arm. "Come laddie, it will not take long. And ye can have something to drink at the same time, before you look to join in the search."
Thorin glowered at Oin initially, only to have Dwalin move in. The large warrior and initially stood silent, wracked with guilt and sadness, for he had grasped at her with one hand as he fought off orcs but it had not been enough. The piece of cotton that had torn off from her dress then, still remained in his pocket. And Thorin had refused to let him take the blame for her abduction, even after Dwalin had explained it, falling at his feet. Instead Thorin had turned his anger towards the elves, and tortured the few orcs that had been captured.
"Come baheluh, the lass would not want this." He shook his head, and was relieved when Thorin sighed in momentarily defeat. "We will find her, Thorin. I swear upon it, by my very life blood."
….
The boy moved towards the water, only to have his father call out a warning from behind.
"I am going to wash my face. I will be careful." He called back, as he idly trailer over to the river.
They had camped not far from the flowing waters of the Gwathlo to rest their horses on the long journey from their visit to a healer of the dunedain in Eriador. Their people had little need for much, all their ways were to live at one with nature. But they had for many generations traded their special herb that grew only in the forests near the White Mountains. They collected other herbs, some gold coin and other small precious tools in exchange. They made the journey twice a year once in spring and the other in early autumn before the harsh weather set in.
The men of the west called their herb 'Sylvan', it was nothing much to look at but miraculous in its healing properties. Their people never foraged their forests for it, instead they cultivated it near their settlements. It was a well kept secret, and the only two healers that used it, were sworn to secrecy as to its origins.
He reached the waters edge and crouching down washed his hands and face in the cooler water. This was his first trip with his father, since they only deemed him just come of age. It took him most of the journey there to get used to riding the horse, which had rendered him tired much of the time, and the heavier clothes they wore when they left their lands felt itchy and constricting. It had all culminated in him developing a greater fondness of home.
Wondering what his younger brother and sister were doing with his mother, he scoured the bank for several smooth flat pebbles and stood up, taking aim at the water, when something caught his eye.
It drifted along the currents of the river, like a piece of clothing washed away, but he could also make out a face, and arms!
"Papa!" He screamed waving at his father in the distance. "Papa! Papa! Come quick!"
The boys father, who had been packing away their small tent, and tending to the horses, immediately ran over to where son stood shouting out, signalling for him to quieten down. They had been forced to break here last night because of the heavy rainfall yesterday, but he had no intention to lingering for long, or even making their presence known. The wild men of Dunland roamed these lands freely, and they would not hesitate to rob them or worse.
"Quiet child!" The man whispered harshly as he reached the boy quickly, looking around him. "What did I tell you last night –"
"But Papa – look!" The boy whispered back pointing to what now clearly looked like a body that floated in the water.
"It must be some poor soul who fell into the Bruinen. They will be long dead by now child –"
"No Papa. I have seen corpses in the water before…" the boy began to wade into the water.
"Come back here at once! Ghol!" The man sighed angrily, as his son continued to wade into the water. Then resigning himself to the realisation that the boy was beyond control at this point took his rudimentary hide shoes off, and began to wade in.
The water was cold and deep, the boy was now chest deep as he reached the body, but before the man could join him, had already started to drag what was now visibly a woman back towards the shore.
"You have wet your shoes! Boy? Are you listening?"
"Papa! Look it is a woman!" He cried, as he moved her along towards the shore. "She does not look like the other women we have met…"
The man and his son carefully moved her onto the shore, before the man took a good look at her.
"She is dark in complexion like us!"
"Yes child, but I do not think she is a child of the Drûg." He muttered as they straightened her clothing. Then suddenly, he drew back with a gasp.
"What is it Papa?" The boy, who had been focussing on her face, followed his fathers gaze to the rest of her body. He was shocked that he had not noticed before. "Is she –"
"She is with child, boy." He began to examine her closer, and then looked around him cautiously again, before signalling to the boy to hurry. "Go fetch some blankets, boy. And my satchel. Then get out of your wet clothes. Hurry we should not linger here."
He held his hands out over her chest and swollen belly, then shutting his eyes, began to chant.
…
"My Lady, I cannot remain here any longer." Thorin pleaded. After Oin had dressed his wounds, the tincture he made for Thorin had also sent him to sleep for almost a day and a half, such that when he had awoken, several of the search parties sent out by the elves had already returned with no news of her. In a final attempt to delay THorin's departure to wildly ride out searching for her, Galadriel herself had intervened, placing an enchantment that appeared to temporarily change his mood. But even this with time had begun to weaken. "I know you have cast some spell upon me. Or I should have rode out by now."
"I think it unwise to travel unaccompanied. Gandalf has left strict instruction that you are not to leave until he joins you." Galadriel spoke softly, for the dwarf kings pain was now palpable. "You are still not wholly recovered of your injuries, and your ponies need time to recover, or they will surely die on your journey."
Thorin grunted in frustration.
"I cannot simply remain here! I cannot sit and wait!" He ground through gritted teeth now. "Please my Lady, remove this enchantment, and let me leave."
She moved out of the courtyard where they had all gathered, and he seemed to follow. It was her last attempt to keep him there.
"Your bride is a most unusual lady, with certain capabilities thought long lost to the children of men." Galadriel continued to walk on, leading them along open corridors and stairwells that wound themselves around the enormous network of tall silver bark trees that formed the magical dwelling of Lothlorien. "But she was plagued of late with many questions that she feared could not be answered by any…"
"My lady, I knew of her dreams and nightmares… we shared many dreams, some which she was not aware that I stood beside her in…" Thorin confessed quietly. His heart felt heavy, but he struggled to break this strange enchantment that seemed to tether him to this place. It felt unnatural, and unearthly. "But I also realise that she kept certain things from me in recent times. Things which she believed she did not wish to burden me with."
She paused momentarily, nodding.
"Your Queen communicated with me before she left the Halls of Lord Elrond…" she began to descend further steps. "She believed the answers to her questions might be found in my Mirror. That is why she requested that you bring her here."
He did not reply to this, only wishing that he had never agreed to bring her to any of the elves! Unable to do anything else, he clenched his fists at his side as he followed, as if he were sleepwalking.
Of all people, he would have appreciated the unusual beauty of Lorien, with the canopy of leaves above them turned golden in the autumn, glowing against the dark skies above, as they reflected the light of the halls below. And the very wood that they walked on, a strange golden hue, which was very reminiscent of Erebors Gallery of Kings.
But instead, he followed, an empty shell of the dwarf he once was, when he held HER hand. He could only wonder where she was now, with every breath he took.
The helplessness he was overcome with, trapped in this gilded cage this elf had devised for him, was the greatest of torture. It was worse than death itself.
Galadriel, now glowing, descended the final steps that gently spiralled the very lowest part of the enormous silvery trunk. Her bare feet light, as if she were gliding, and her strange silvery white dress trailing behind with its own obedience, until she reached a clearing below with a small pool of water.
The very sound of the gentle gurgle of the water that glimmered was, in itself healing to the heavy heart.
"Perhaps you may look in the mirror, on her behalf… as well as yours," she leant down and taking a tall jug, dipped it in the pool before moving away to a pedestal atop which sat a large, shallow bowl. She poured the water in, filling the bowl, and then moved aside.
"I have experience no more shared dreams, my Lady… do you think?" He confessed, unable to finish his sentence, for the tightness that constructed his chest at the thought.
"That the worst might have come to pass?" She stepped aside to make room for the Dwarven King and turned to offer him a sympathetic smile. "I do not believe that to be her fate. We must be patient, and believe she will return to us, when the time is right."
She held out her hand inviting him to step up to look into the mirror.
Initially, he hesitated, before reluctantly stepping up, and peering into the strange water, that reflected his face, as though it truly was nothing but a mirror. He looked tired, and older than he once recognised, the bruise above his right eye had darkened, demarcating a larger area than yesterday, and the cut on his left jaw, has now scabbed over.
Then before his very eyes, ripples spread across the mirror, and he no longer stared at his own reflection…
….
A land filled with smoke appeared in the water. Within a few seconds the smoke began to clear, swirling around, until a figure became visible in the centre of it all.
His heart raced as it became clear that it was HER!
She stood barefoot on the ground covered in ash, shoot, and black rock, wearing a large white nightgown. It billowed behind her as the smoke swirled about her. Further in front of her a large dark mountain loomed.
"What do you want?" She cried out at the mountain. While no sound could be heard from the mirror, Thorin knew what she spoke of. Her raven hair was loose about her shoulders, as strands flew about caught in the gusts of wind.
"You must take your place, at my side, my child." A rumbling voice came from the direction of the mountain, but it felt as though it came from all around them, as though the very sound rang through his head!"
The very next moment the image in the mirror changed…
He lay, naked, on top of furs, while she straddled his body, as they made love. His hands snaked up her body, one large hand grasping at her hips, driving himself deeper inside her. She threw her head back, her mouth falling open with a sensual sigh. And his other large hand settled itself over her breasts, as he thrust harder, watching her come undone around him.
They rolled over again, and he saw himself making love to her again, this time they lay on mountains of gold. He pinned her down beneath his body as he claimed all of her greedily for himself. She was the greatest jewel of all for him. But as he spilled himself within her, the gold beneath them turned to black rock, soot and ash. And beyond them loomed the giant dark mountain, erupting smoke from above.
And just as suddenly as the images came, they changed…
There she stood, once again, at the foot of that infernal mountain. This time she wore a grand dress, made of a shiny black material that seemed to move and glimmer.
As he stepped closer, it was possible to make out the multitude of scales that made up her dress, like a horrid armour plated dress. She stood tall, and moved a hand across the dress, as he realised, with horror, that it was made of none other than dragon scales!
She wore a heavy gold crown adorned with vicious spikes, but little other in the way of jewels.
Before her he knelt, bowing his head in servitude, dressed in the golden wolf headed armour and best fur, which Thror wore. He held up a hand offering up the brilliant stone that shone like a thousand rainbows.
"All shall bow before their Queen, in her rightful place." The deep voice form he mountain seemed to echo. And before them were vast armies of Dwarves, men, elves and orcs, all bowing on bended knee. "Princess of Mordor."
And suddenly the ripples in the pool cleared once more revealing the image of a young woman, not dissimilar in features to Shobha. The resemblance made it such that it could only be her mother. But she looked distressed, eyes filled with tears, and her clothes dishevelled, and hair ruffled, as she looked up from where she sat on the floor, as a dark, half armoured figure towered over panting.
A gentle hand on his shoulder steadied him.
"These reflections are corrupted with darkness and fear. Let these go, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain!" Galadriel commanded sternly.
And with that a new image cleared in the bowl.
She sat under the shade of a tree, in the fields outside Erebor, looking content, a babe in her arms cooing gently and his chubby hands reaching up to grasp at several of her loose ebony locks. The Lonely Mountain rose in front of her, as the great gate buzzed with activity. She seemed to look lost in thought for a moment, with the babe now happily sleeping in her arms, when she was interrupted by two children who bounded in. The elder, a boy around eight, with raven hair and olive skin, found her first, wrapping his arms around her neck gently, and planting a big kiss on her cheek.
But the girl stopped behind for a bit, waiting for someone. And soon enough the girl was joined by Thorin. He looked older, with more silver replacing his raven mane. He held her hand gently; father and daughter crossing the final distance to reach them.
Thorin knelt down to press a chaste kiss on his wife's lips, and stroke the sleeping babe's head lightly, before sitting beside her, while the children began to play once more.
He pulled himself away from Galadriel's mirror, despite the first bit of relief he had experience since they had left Rivendell.
"Does this mean she is alive?" He asked quietly, in case the seer might disagree.
"The Mirror shows event that may have happened, or events yet to come. All are possibilities." She chose her words wisely.
"I could not find her in my dreams of late." He admitted. "But she feared Sauron had returned, and seemingly recollected something of her childhood that led her to fear that… he might have… somehow been her father. Particularly with what the White Wizard claimed."
"The Istari are not always correct." A brief flash of concern travelled her serene features. "Saruman appears to be preoccupied with other matters of late."
Thorin remained silent, even though Shobha had warned him of the white wizards corruption.
"Your Queen, had a particular reason to travel here. A plan. For she indeed feared the worst." Galadriel spoke with concern. "She wished to return to her home land. And the visions you saw, were those she had dreamt of. They drove her to take this difficult decision."
Thorin frowned at her words; he felt as if he had been punched in the chest. Why would she decide on such a course of action without consulting him also? He felt so broken-hearted at the thought that she might have wanted to leave him.
She watched the dwarf closely, sensing his emotional turmoil, but had no further words of comfort for him. In truth, while she had conviction in her visions, she too feared the possibility that the woman was lost to this world, for she had not sensed any communication.
"We must have faith, Thorin, King under the Mountain." Galadriel sadly offered the only words she could truthfully. "Your Queen will be found."
He stepped away, bowing his head gracefully, and turning, made his way back to find Dwalin quickly.
The warrior, whom he considered a brother, was seated in a clearing by a pool, sharpening his axes using the stones he carried. He looked up from where he sat, and was immediately on his feet, sensing Thorin had much in his mind.
"Dwalin, where is everyone else?" Thorin looked around, speaking in a hushed voice.
"Oin is changing dressings. Ori is keeping his journal. And Nori… is taking a walk." He meant to say Nori was out spying on the elves, but could not imagine there was anything more pressing of value compared to news of Thorin's bride. "What is it?"
Thorin moved closer, and lowered his voice still.
"Did she speak with you of any worries?"
"She worried about you, and the safety of all in Erebor. Particularly after the last attack, but there was nothing else she asked of me –"
"Did she tell you of her plan to return home?" Thorin gritted his teeth in anger. "That is why she asked us to bring her here. So that she might ask the White Lady to return her back!"
Dwalin frowned unable to respond for a moment, as they both fell silent.
"I can only think she felt no other option, baheluh." Dwalin quietly replied, at last.
"The White Wizard hinted at the possibility that her abilities were derived of dark power. She had dreams of Sauron –"
"Eh?"
"Aye. She came to believe that he might be her father." Thorin shook his head. "But why would she not wish to speak with me of this? And instead be happy to run away from us?"
"She was broken after the last attack, Thorin. The lass felt so much death and destruction was brought to Erebor, all in her name." Dwalin felt heart broken for her. He could only imagine that if she made such a terrible decision alone it was to save them all from what she imagined was a terrible fate. But he knew Thorin would not see it as such as the moment.
"You would take her side?" Thorin growled angrily. "Of course you would! You and Balin are her kin."
"Thorin, they have been searching along the Anduin – but where we crossed – the mountain pass, is a watershed. The tributaries there are just as likely to flow into Bruinen from there." Dwalin revealed what he had been worrying about all along. "We need to have them start searching to the west of the Mountains."
Thorin clasped his hands behind his back and paced a few steps, deep in thought.
"There is one other thing that troubles me Dwalin; whoever attacked us, anticipated her plans to travel to Lórien, as well as when we planned to travel and lay in wait." Thorin stopped and turned to Dwalin.
"Aye. I do not imagine it would be the elves though. They seem very fond of her..."
"No – but I no longer trust the White Wizard." Thorin began to pace once more, and then paused again. "We must find a way to get out of here fast. Time is of the essence, they may attempt to abduct her, if they have not done so already. And I will be damned if I let her get away without telling me that she wishes to leave me."
…..
She lay on the grass curled up in her parents garden, with her head in her mother's lap. The autumn sun was pleasantly warming.
"Oh my darling girl, why did you do this?" Her mother gently stroked her hair, as she lay on her side, a hand tucked over her now rather enormous belly.
"You know why Mummy. I had to." She sighed thinking of Thorin.
"But beti, you are married. He is your husband and this is his child too… the decision should have been made together."
Her heart ached as she could only imagine what he was thinking. But she attempted to remind herself that she did what she needed to keep Thorin and everyone she had grown to love in Erebor safe. She promised herself she would tell their son everything about his father. After all, he was also a son of Durin. But so long as she was here, Sauron could not use her as a pawn to control Thorin, and Erebor would continue as a stronghold to keep Mordor's forces from scouring middle earth with ease, when the time came.
"He would not have seen it that way, mummy. Thorin… would put up a fight." She meant even at the expense of his people. Feeling another sharp kick, which she rubbed, she sighed. "Here I am again right? Got myself in trouble with another man and coming home for you to hold my hand again huh?"
"Oh my baby, never apologise for loving someone with all your being." Her mother set down the cup of tea she had been sipping and looked down, eyes creasing softly as she smiled. In that moment, with the light shining from above around her face, and the way she smiled, made her look like some sort of ethereal goddess. "And you are no burden to us, my love. We would fight for you and your sister to our very last breath."
With a heavy heart Shobha couldn't help but imagine Thorin would have felt the same.
"Now don't fall asleep my child. You still have too much to do…"
She smiled at her mother's tone. It somehow reminded her of when she was just a little girl. And so, summoning what energy she had…
She opened her eyes.
…
Dear all,
Thank you so much for all your faves and follows and for cont to post your reviews – I think you all really inspired me to pick up this chapter again.
This was hastily edited by me, so sorry for any typos and my sincere apologies for taking so long for my update.
Please please do continue to let me know your thoughts xx
Special thanks to – Winter Kiss, dragonlover, malachaifire and picklefan14 – your reviews really inspired me to post this update sooner! ❤️🙏
