Chapter Seven~ An Air of Healing
A/N: Aaaaaand, here we are once again. Hopefully, the dopamine continues for a while so I can actually get a bunch of this story done. Anyway, reviews are a wonderful thing as they let me know that I'm actually doing something right, so let me know, please and thank you.
Also, this chapter has the smallest bit of fluff and such at some point. So, yeah...
Anywho, on with the show.
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Talia's climb to consciousness was slow. Once or twice, she heard people talking, but she never could understand the words, garbled as they were. For the most part, all she knew was the feeling of warmth on her skin, and the occasion weight of something on her hand or face. It was one such moment, where she could feel something cool on her forehead that finally roused her. Her eyes cracked open, closing immediately when the bright sunlight hit them. A soft groan escaped her lips.
"Talia?" a soft voice called from her left.
With some difficulty, she turned her head and eased her eyes open again. "Bombur?"
The fat Dwarf was smiling, eyes bright with unshed tears when she finally responded. "Thank goodness!" he said, dabbing the cloth over her cheeks. "I'll go get the others."
"Others?"
He nodded. "Everyone has been waiting for you to wake up." Bombur was gone before she could ask anything else. He waddled his way towards the door, a little skip in his step. He was out the door in a moment, closing it silently behind him.
Talia settled back into the soft bed she was laying on. She could still feel where she had been wounded. Oddly enough, they didn't hurt as much as she thought they would have. She lay there for a while, taking stock of herself. After about twenty minutes, the door swung open again, revealing the company piling into the room.
"Talia!" Bofur and Bilbo both said as they rushed forward. Everyone gathered around her bed as the two took her hands.
"You had us so worried, lass." Bofur murmured as he stroked her hand.
"Gave us a right fright, ye did," Oin patted her leg, causing her to hiss and pull the appendage away. "Oh! Sorry!" He immediately moved the cover from her leg, examining the gauze that was wrapped around her calf.
"Lass," Dwalin got her attention. "What happened?" he gestured to her leg.
She looked away, eyes drifting to the windows. "The Elf healers said you lost a lot of blood." Bilbo said. "And that you nearly lost your leg." Her brows scrunched.
"They told us all the running caused the infection from whatever cut you to move through your veins faster." Balin explained.
A deep, shaky breath passed her lips. "The Warg...when it fell. I didn't realize at first what happened, not until we stopped moving."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Bofur chastised. "We could have bound it up, kept it from getting too bad before they were able to get a look at you."
"Somehow I doubt that would have done much to help," Gandalf stepped forward. He looked down at her with a soft smile. "Hello, my dear. How are you feeling?"
"Better..." she moved, attempting to sit up. Bofur helped her while Bilbo piled the pillows so she could lean against them. A strange look came over her face. "Why don't I hurt? How long have I been out?"
"Well, firstly, you've been asleep for nearly a week." Gandalf explained. "Secondly, Elvish healing is a wonder, isn't it now?"
"A week?" she looked around at all of them. "Why haven't you all moved on? Doesn't Thorin want to get to the mountain as soon as possible? Where is he?"
At the mention of their leader, many of the faces went dark. It was Balin, who had sat on the end of her bed, that explained the situation. "Thorin thought it would be best for us to rest for a while, give you time to heal."
"But-"
He held up a hand. "As for where he is, we all thought it best if he stayed as far away from you as possible for now."
"Why?" she asked honestly.
Apparently, the question had taken them all aback. "Because of what was said in the Trollshaw, of course." Bofur responded.
"Speaking of which," Dori butted in. "What exactly did he mean by 'your years in the whorehouse'?"
Dwalin hissed at him and swatted at his head.
"What?! We're all thinking about it!"
Talia's eyes dropped to her hands, which were trembling on her lap, so she clasped them tightly to keep the tremors at bay. "I...I was..."
"Ye dinnae have to tell us anything," Dwalin patted her unhurt shoulder in a fatherly way, which was seeming to become more and more common with him.
She shook her head as tears began to roll down her cheeks, just one at first, but it was quickly followed by several more. "That was where Gandalf found me...in the brothel."
"What in Durin's name where you doing there?" Kili exclaimed.
She gulped, took a deep breath, then said, "I was there because I was a whore." Her voice was small, almost too quiet for them to hear her. No one said anything for a long moment, during which time she choked back a sob. "My mother died when I was young, I was taken in by the master of the brothel, Thol. I was there for nine years before Gandalf found me."
"Oh, Mahal," Fili murmured in horror. It seemed that everyone else held very much the same sentiment.
"We've been traveling with a whore?!" Dori's voice was shrill as he pulled his brothers away, only to have Nori yank away from him.
"That is quite enough of that, Master Dori." Gandalf chastised him. "None of what happened within those foul walls was by her choice. If it were, do you think she her skin would be so marred?"
The realization of Gandalf's words brought looks of equal parts horror and disgust to all of their faces. To most of them, save for Bilbo, she was much smaller than they were, and they were all suddenly taken over with grief at the idea of an even smaller Talia trying to fight off grown men three times her size while they did unspeakable things to her until her will was so broken that she stopped fighting. The thought that this young dam, who had done everything in her power to help them on a quest she had no reason to be on, who had been nothing but kind to them, who had saved them from mountain trolls, had been so brutalized that she was forever scarred both physically and mentally brought all of them great sadness.
Even Dori, who had hung his head in shame at Gandalf's words, seemed to have finally taken in the gravity of the situation. Then his head snapped up. "Does Thorin know about this?"
Talia nodded, eyes still on her hands. "I told him weeks ago, trying to build a rapport and let him know that he was not the only one who had seen hardship."
"Miss Talia?" She lifted her head to see Ori moving away from his brother. Bilbo and the others moved out of the way so that he could sit on the edge of the bed facing her. He sat there quietly for a moment, until he reached over and took one of her hands in his knitted glove covered ones and held it. "I am sorry that you had to go through horrible things, but I am also very glad that your life put you on the path that brought you to us." Her throat tightened. "And I don't know about the others, but I am happy you're here with us."
"Yeah," Kili piped up. "We'd all be troll food right now if you hadn't've been there."
A small, teary smile quirked her lips up. "Gandalf would have gotten you out. He wasn't far behind me."
"Nay, lassie," Balin shook his head. "If ye hadn't have shown up when you did, something tells me they were awful close to just squashing the lot of us and being done with it."
"Would've thrown us all in the stew, they would." Nori agreed.
"Y'see, lass," Bofur patted the opposite hand from Ori, "yer just as important as the rest of us. And we can't do this without you. It doesn't matter what happened to you before."
"I am inclined to agree with you, Master Dwarf." A regal voice startled all of them. In the doorway stood Elrond with a She-Elf who looked somewhat similar to him. "Our pasts may shape us, but they do not define who we are." He told her as he strode forward. Talia's face went red as she realized he had probably heard the entire conversation. "You have nothing to be ashamed for, young one. Now, your wounds need to be checked and your bandages changed. And as you have been asleep the entirety of your stay so far, I'm sure you are wanting a proper bath. This is my daughter, Arwen. She will be assisting you while you are here. When you feel well enough to move, she will show you to your room. I hope that you will join us all for dinner this evening. You would be welcome at my table." The last part was directed at Talia, and with a small incline of his head, Elrond turned and strode out the door, leaving Arwen smiling behind him.
"Well, lads," Dwalin chuckled, "I believe that's our cue to leave the ladies to their business." There was grumbling all around as they moved towards the door, Bofur lingering a moment longer to squeeze her hand to reassure her before he too left.
Once all the males were gone, Talia glanced over at the Elf that was nearly floating towards her it seemed. "Nathla, neth min." She bowed her head to the dam.
"I don't know what that means..." Talia told her.
Arwen just smiled. "Welcome, young one. I am Arwen."
"Talia," she murmured.
"It is lovely to meet you, Talia. Do you feel well enough to walk?"
Moving around a bit, she thought for a moment, then nodded. Arwen helped her swing her legs over the side of the bed, which, being normal-sized, was far too large for her easily slip off. Much like the days at the beginning of the quest, Talia's legs were somewhat numb from not being used, and therefore, she had to lean against the Elf-maid as they left the healing rooms while she wobbled like a newborn foal. The walk seemed to take days as they made their way at a snail's pace through the halls of Rivendell. Even in her somewhat pained state, Talia couldn't help but be awestruck by the beauty of the structures around her, at the sweetness in the air. Those that they passed on the way to wherever they were going would stop when they got close and bow their heads slightly, continuing when they had moved on. Talia was confused for the first few times it happened, wondering why Elves were bowing to them, then she remembered she was using the Elf-lord's daughter as a crutch. The thought made her pull away slightly, attempting to put more weight on her unsteady legs. At the feel of a change in pressure on her arm, Arwen looked down, head tilted in curiosity, but she said nothing.
Finally, they came to a stop outside an elegantly carved door. Arwen pressed against the light wood with one hand and it swung open silently. The Elf-maid gestured for her to enter first. Talia made her way into the room, unsure, taking in the simple bed, nightstand, and armoire, all set within room that was lit by large glassless windows which opened up onto a balcony. Arwen followed behind her, shutting the door behind them, then crossed the room to another door that was standing open beside the opposite wall. She stood there quietly while she watched Talia taking in the room. After a moment or two, the dam finally looked at her.
"The bath is through here, my lady."
"I...I'm not a lady," Talia ducked her head as she made her way towards the other room. She started to say something else but was struck dumb by the sight of the large bathtub in the center of the room, steam rising from the water. The scent of herbs tickled her nose.
"You travel in the company of a king, and were, from what I understand, the lady of the house of the Halfling."
"I wouldn't call myself the lady of the house. I was Bilbo's ward; I just did things around the house to help out." Arwen made a small face, but said nothing else on the matter, leading her to sit on a stool so she could unwrap the bandages around her leg. Talia's eyes bugged out of her head when she saw the wound, which she could feel when it happened that it was bad, was now almost completely healed after only a week.
"I am sorry to say that you will have a scar here, and perhaps one on your shoulder as well."
Talia, who was still marveling at the pink, scabby skin, shrugged. "Not the first, won't be the last, I'm sure." Arwen, for her part, was confused by this admission, but continued on with her job of helping her get ready for the bath. Upon motioning for her to lift her arms, she pulled the shift up and over her head, gasping quietly when she saw the silver and pink marks littering Talia's skin. She muttered something in Sindarin, Talia could tell that it was an exclamation of horror. The dam's face reddened again as she turned it away from the Elf, suddenly very self-conscious. "Like I said, not the first..."
The Elf-maid's face evened out from a look of surprise, to a soft smile. "Most beings are born without blemishes, and gain many by the end of their lives. Scars tell of our journey through life."
"Yes, well...my journey has been long and fraught with evil." There was a bitterness in her voice, a bite that took Arwen aback.
"Perhaps. But you have many more miles to go yet. And who knows what hardships you will face before the end. But enough of that now. Let us get you clean."
With some help, Talia was able to lift herself over the edge of the tub, which was full of steaming hot water. She settled in slowly, hissing when the heat touched her wounds, but sighed when she was fully emersed and her stiff muscles began to unwind. After a moment, she pulled her hair from the braids, placing the beads safely on the stool, and dipped her it into the water for a moment, allowing the water to separate each and every strand, using her fingers to help do so. Once her hair was well and truly soaked, she rose out of the water up to her shoulders. Arwen crossed the room to a small cupboard, taking out a bit of soap and a vial of amber liquid, along with a washrag. She passed the rag and soap to Talia, allowing her to begin cleaning herself. She started with her hair, attempting to rid herself of the grimy sensation. Even after dipping it into the water, her curls were still heavy from dirt yet wavy from the braids it had been in. She washed her it three times, feeling the greasiness ease out of her locks a little at a time.
Once she was satisfied that her hair was clean, she moved on to her body. While she was scrubbing vigorously at her skin, Arwen had taken to running oil-covered hands over her hair, massaging the liquid into the strands and her scalp as thoroughly as possible. By the time both women were done, the water was grey and dingy with soap, dirt, and dead skin, and had gone lukewarm. Arwen had her stand up and rinsed her off with a pitcher of clean, warm water to get whatever was clinging to her off. Then, helping the dam out of the tub, she held out a large white towel. Talia moved to take it, but Arwen shook her head and stepped forward to begin drying her off. Sheepish, Talia just stood as still as possible, only moving to allow the Elf to get under her arms. Once she was satisfied, Arwen produced a smaller towel and began to gently pull the water from her hair while Talia just stood there with the other one wrapped around her, held tightly by her arms over her chest. While they were still in the bathing room, Arwen took out another vial of oil and offered it to her. Talia smiled a little at that. After she had rubbed the oil into her skin, they moved into the other room (Talia swiping up the precious beads as she passed them), where she was guided to a stool that had been pulled out from beside the armoire.
"We do not usually have visitors of you...stature, but our tailors were able to alter a few articles of clothing so that they might suit you better." From the wooden structure, she pulled out a dress so fine that Talia couldn't help but gasp. Without thought, she reached forward to touch the cloth. The green fabric was like water slipping through her fingers. "We were also able to acquire some of your underthings from your pack. Would you like help dressing?"
Talia nodded mutely. Allowing Arwen to pull the towel away, her wounds were redressed, then she was helped into the outfit, having some trouble raising her arms high enough to let it slip over her head. Arwen apologized, explaining that the break in her ribs would take a little longer to heal that the cuts. Once her clothing was situated, Arwen turned her towards the mirror and began combing out her still damp locks. Once she was satisfied that they were as untangled as the strands could get, she moved to begin fixing Talia's hair. The dam was quick to stop her. "I'm sorry. I've...got beads I need to put in. I don't think anyone else is supposed to touch my hair but my family..."
Arwen looked confused, but eventually inclined her head and muttered, "Of course." Then backed away to allow her to do it herself.
It was difficult, as Talia was not used to doing braids any smaller than the main plait she always wore, but she slowly managed to twist the locks behind her hears into relatively even braids before she secured the beads in place. Once she was done, she stared at herself in the mirror for the first time since leaving Bag End. While she was definitely not an Elf, somehow, she seemed changed. Her face seemed slimmer, the angles of her face sharper. She realized with a start that the Dwarves had been correct in their observation that she was losing weight from the constant travel and training. Her cheeks were gaunter than they had been in years, though she still seemed to be glowing, as opposed to the normal sallow tone of someone who had been laid up for a week. She attributed this to the magic of the Elves, which she could feel in the very air around her. With every breath, it seemed like all her burdens were lifting off her shoulders.
Talia was suddenly pulled from her reverie by something touching her head. It startled her, but she calmed when she realized it was just Arwen tucking a soft pink rose behind one of her ears and securing it in place with a small clip. When she was satisfied with the placement, she stood back and smiled gently at the dam.
"Dinner will be ready shortly, if you would like to make our way to the dining hall." Talia nodded, to which Arwen inclined her head and held out a hand for her to take. After the long, hot bath filled with healing and revitalizing herbs, and since she had been out of bed for a while, Talia found it was a bit easier for her to walk, only having to hold onto the Elf-maid's arm for balance. Even so, the walk to the dining hall was slow, as she was still a tiny bit wobbly. Not to mention that her dress was a tad long, which meant she had to hold part of the skirt with her hand to keep from tripping over the hem. "We will have the tailors adjust the length now that you are awake. Tomorrow, perhaps, if you are feeling up to it." A sheepish smile crossed Talia's face as she nodded.
They had finally made it to the outside of the hall. Inside, she could hear gentle music being played, and the quiet tones of her Dwarves grumbling amongst themselves. The thought made her stop short. When had she began to think of them as her Dwarves? When had they become her Dwarves? Arwen was watching her with a curious expression, to which Talia simply shook her head and took the last few steps into the room.
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The hush that fell over the group brought Thorin's attention to the fact that there was someone else in the room. All of them were staring, some open-mouthed, at the two females that had graced them with their presence. One was the statuesque daughter of the Elf-lord who had opened their home to them. The other... It didn't register who was holding onto the arm of the Elf-maid for a moment, thinking it might have been a child, until he took in the stature and womanly shape of the female. Thorin straightened in his chair when he realized that it was Talia. While she was a bit thinner than she had been back in Bag End, she seemed healthier than she had on the road, with a pale pink flush to her cheeks that matched the flower in her hair. And there was no mistaking the gentle dark honey curls and bright green eyes that took in everything around her. He was somewhat surprised to see that she still only had her family braids in her hair, seeing as she had been dressed by an Elf. He had half expected her to come in with the same braids that he saw so many of them wearing. Instead, his heart began to hammer in his chest when he saw her loose hair cascading down her back and over her shoulders, while her family beads lay against her chest.
He made to get up, to escort her to the high table, but he was beaten to the punch by the Elf-lord, who rose gracefully from his seat and was halfway across the room before Thorin could even leave his own completely. Elrond placed his open palm to his heart as he bowed ever so slightly. "My lady, it would be an honor to have you join me at my table."
Talia's eyes drifted to said table, meeting Thorin's eyes for the first time in a week. The gentle flush of her cheeks deepened to a darker shade as she dropped her eyes. But she eventually nodded, curtsying a bit to the lord of the house. Elrond said something to his daughter in hushed, Elvish tongue, who bowed her head and transferred Talia's hand to her father's, then turned to leave. Elrond, placing her hand into the crook of his arm, guided her towards the high table. Something about the sight of it unnerved him. She would let some random Elf she had never met touch her with nary an issue, and yet she retreated from him when he had only brushed her skin. Although, he did suppose that was a bit different. All of them stood as she was led to the table, waiting until she had settled into the chair Elrond held for her to return to their seats. He could see that the rest of the Dwarves (and the Hobbit) were watching her from the corners of their eyes.
"So, my dear, how are you feeling? I would wager the bath recovered you a bit."
Talia dipped her head. "It was very refreshing. I feel much better, thank you."
"And your wounds? How do they fair?"
Her right shoulder lifted slightly in a shrug. "I can barely even tell they are there."
"Good. Very good. The healers did say you would no doubt have scars from your first encounters with Trolls and Orcs."
A small smile graced her lips. "Scars tell stories. They show our history."
The smile was infectious all around the table. "Well said, my dear Talia." Gandalf quipped, raising his wine glass.
"Gandalf has told me of how you came by your injuries. You were quite brave to face down three fully grown mountain Trolls on your own. Especially having very little training."
At the mention of the Trollshaw, Talia and Thorin's eyes met for a moment. Eventually, she dropped hers to the plate in front of her. He could see her throat working as though through a lump. "It wasn't all that impressive. I didn't really do much to help besides distracting them long enough for Gandalf to get there. Mostly, I just got thrown around."
"Nonsense." Thorin's sharp tone made her jump. All eyes turned to him. "If not for you, we surely would all not be sitting here conversing so jovially. They meant to make short work of us, and you stopped them."
Her eyes turned hard. "I disobeyed orders given to me and ended up gravely wounded in the process." The Dwarf-lord started to say something, but she turned back to Elrond. "I am sorry, but would you mind if I sat with my family?"
"Not at all, my lady." He inclined his head. "However, I would ask that you meet with me in a day or so, when you are feeling stronger. Gandalf has brought something to my attention that needs seeing to."
"Of course." With that, Talia scooted her chair back with the assistance of one of the attendants, who took up her food, drink, and silverware and carried it down the steps to the others. A space was made for her between Bofur and Kili.
"Now there's my beautiful little sister. Feeling better, I hope."
"Much. A hot bath works wonders."
The Dwarves all chuckled. "Indeed, it does, lass." Balin reached across the table and patted her hand.
Something in her peripheral vision made Talia turn her head. Ori was holding out a piece of parchment to her from across Bofur. "What's this?" The young Dwarf didn't say anything as she took the parchment. A smile crossed her face as she realized it was a sketch of her from his point of view as she had walked into the room. It was a rough sketch, just the beginnings really, but she could still tell what it was. "It's lovely, Ori. I'm sure it will be beautiful when it's finished." Ori's cheeks flamed bright red under his beard as he took the parchment back, tucking it against his chest as Dori's eyes softened at the sight of the interaction.
"Change the tune, why don't ye?" Nori quipped at the musicians behind him. "I feel like I'm at a funeral."
"Did somebody die?" Oin asked. Talia noticed he had stuffed a napkin into his ear horn, presumably to keep out the sound of the Elvish tune.
"I quite like it." She told them. "It's calming."
"Aye, calming enough to send ye ta sleep." Dwalin grumbled.
"Right then, lads. There's only one thing for it." Bofur pushed himself away from the table. When he met Talia's confused expression, he tapped a finger against his nose, then patted her shoulder and climbed onto a dais in the middle of the room.
"Theeeeeere's...an inn, there's an inn,
There's a merry old inn,
Beneath an old grey hill.
And there they brew a beer so brown,
The Man in the Moon himself came down,
One night to drink his fill."
The other Dwarves had begun to tap their feet and fists, singing along to Bofur's song. Something about the tune was familiar, tickling the back of her mind as he continued.
"Oooooh, the ostler's got a tipsy cat,
That plays a five-string fiddle." Food had started flying as he made a pantomime of playing a fiddle.
"And up and down he saws his bow,
Now squeaking hiiiiigh..." Talia ducked as a bit of bread came flying toward her, using Kili as a shield to keep from being hit, giggling the whole time.
"Now purring loooooow.
Now sawing in the middle." The stomping started again. Talia noticed that Thorin had taken up a stance across the room from the high table, watching on as they made a mess of the dining hall. He was grinning as he took a swig from a flask. More than likely it was something ungodly strong compared to the wine they were drinking.
"So, the cat on the fiddle
Played hey diddle-diddle,
A jig that would wake the dead.
He squeaked and he sawed
And he quickened the tune,
And the landlord shook the Man in the Moon.
'It's after three!' he said"
By this time, the ruckus had amped up to the point of food flying in every direction, hooping and hollering, and Talia began to full on laugh as she saw the faces of the Elves. They all looked mortified. It didn't last very long though. Her ribs couldn't handle the motions of laughter and she was quickly rendered breathless, gripping Kili's arm as hers was wrapped around her torso.
"Are you alright?" the young Dwarf asked quietly, putting an arm around her.
"Fine. Just realized that laughing so hard probably isn't a good idea until my ribs heal all the way."
"Do you need to go and lie down?" By now a few of the others had noticed the situation and quieted down.
"No, no. I'll be alright. I just need to get a bit more of this Elvish wine in me and I should be right as rain."
Those who had stopped yelling, laughed heartily. Dwalin pounded the table. "That's my girl! Drink up!"
Everyone had heard the last part, and cheered, taking up their goblets and downing the contents, some of it spilling down their beards. Talia, for her part, did try to follow their lead (albeit a bit more gracefully), but only managed to get half a glass when she finally felt the burn of alcohol. It wasn't as harsh as brandy, but it was still there. Taking a moment to breathe, she finished her wine off in a few swallows. Another cheer went up as they all saw her polish off the glass. Poor Bilbo looked absolutely lost, simply holding his wineglass in front of him like he'd been about to take a drink, but had gotten distracted by the kerfuffle around him.
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Talia and her guardian were taking a stroll through the hall of Rivendell after dinner a later that evening after it had gotten dark, taking in the sweet air full of magic. The others were still enjoying the hospitality of the Elves. Talia's was giggling and a bit wobbly on her feet due to the small amount of wine she had drank. She had never been much of a drinker, and it seemed that Elvish wine had quite a bit more alcohol in it than the taste first led one to believe. As such, Bilbo was propping her up as they climbed the stairs to the next level, not really going anywhere in particular, just taking an explorative stroll with no destination. They had just come to the next landing when voices broke them out of their pleasant thoughts.
"-and really, I think you can trust that I know what I'm doing." Gandalf's voice carried over the open space from another bridge some distance away.
"Do you?" It was Elrond. "That dragon has slept for sixty years. What would happen if your plan should fail? If you wake that beast?"
"And what if we succeed? If the Dwarves take back the mountain, our defenses in the East will be strengthened." Talia's brows furrowed. Defenses from what?
"This is a dangerous move, Gandalf."
The hairs on the back of Talia's neck and arms stood on end, causing her to spin around. A figure in the shadow made her gasp a bit, bringing Bilbo's attention to the fact that they were not alone in their eavesdropping.
"It is also dangerous to do nothing!" Gandalf's voice rang out as Thorin shook his head, telling them not to say anything. "The throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright. What is it you fear?"
"Have you forgotten?" Talia was frozen in place as the males turned their attention back to the conversation across the way. "A strain of madness runs deep in that family." Thorin moved forward, now intently listening, apparently unaware that the dam's eyes were still on him. "His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness." Finally, the King Under the Mountain's face changed. No longer was he curious about what was being said. "Can you swear that Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?" Watching his face, the female could see how the words were digging deep into him. She could almost hear the wheels in his head turning them over and over, wondering if whatever fate it was that befell his forebearers would also afflict him as well. "Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle Earth."
"With or without our help, these Dwarves will march on the mountain. They are determined to reclaim their homeland."
Thorin turned and stalked away. The absence of him let the breath Talia was holding finally leave her lungs. Whatever was said next was lost in the wind as they moved farther and farther away from the trio. Bilbo turned to say something to the leader of their company, only to find him gone. "What sickness do you suppose that is?"
"I don't know..." she murmured. But she was intent to find out. Gathering up her skirts, Talia took off down the steps after the Dwarf-lord. Peaking her head into the dining hall, she could see he was nowhere to be found, so she moved on. Following the path, she found herself in the gardens. Her feet led her deeper and deeper as she took in the sight and smells of the flowering trees, bushes, and herbs all around her. Even in the dark, she could hear small creatures moving through the brush, birds settling down for the night in their high nests. She turned a bend and, by the light of the moon, she saw a lone figure on one of the stone benches. She stopped in her tracks.
"You may as well come closer." The deep timbre of his voice made her jump.
"I'm sorry. I..." she took a few steps forward, stopping when he spun around, eyes wide with surprise.
"I was expecting Master Baggins would be the one to..." he stopped; eyes wary. "Why are you here?"
Talia moved towards him slowly, waiting until she was not but a few feet away before she spoke. "Are you alright?"
Thorin huffed out a wry laugh. "Why do you care?"
Hesitantly, she lowered herself onto the bench, keeping her eyes on him as she did so. "You are the leader of our company. Why wouldn't I?"
He dropped his head, obviously ashamed. "I thought perhaps you would stay as far away as possible, considering..."
"Considering?" she knew what he was hinting at, but she wanted to hear what he had to say.
Letting out a harsh breath, Thorin placed his face in his hands, elbows on his knees. He rubbed his face for a moment, then placed his fingers to his lips, hands folded as if praying. It took him a long moment before he finally spoke again. Turning his head toward her, but not looking at her, he said, "Considering the terrible words I said to you in the Trollshaw."
Talia's heart skipped a beat. "I think it would be best if we didn't talk about it." She made to get up, only to be stopped by a hand on her wrist, which froze her in place, eyes wide.
"Wait, please." Thorin guided her slowly back to sit beside him. "It was wrong of me to say such things, I had no right. It was not my place to tell the others your story, and I betrayed your trust in doing so the way I did. And for that, from the depths of my heart, I am sorry." He turned away from her again, a deep sigh escaping him. "I do not ask for your forgiveness, as I do not deserve such kindness."
A silence fell over them as his words turned over in her mind. The longer she thought, the more his shoulders seemed to slump and his face turned more and more dour. She could see that he did truly regret what had happened, and she knew that for him to admit that he had done wrong was an extremely difficult thing to do, given how proud of a Dwarf he was.
The feeling of something against his hand made his head shoot up. Talia's eyes were focused on something in the distance, but he looked down to find her own hand tucked softly into his. Thorin blinked. He tried to think back over all of their interactions, trying to remember a time in the last month and a half where she had actually willingly, knowinglytouched him. Other than the river when she fell on the rocks, he couldn't think of a time where their bare skin had touched for any length of time. She had always been so careful around everyone, especially him, not to touch them. And yet, here she was, holding his hand. He turned the appendage slightly so that he could better grasp hers. He heard her breath hitch. Her hand was so much smaller than his, yet seem to fit perfectly into his curled palm.
Clearing her throat lightly, she glanced at him for half a moment before looking up at the moon. "You've spent the past week in a place with a people you hate, just so that I would have time to heal. You kept away out of fear of angering the others. I know that pride is a hard thing to overcome, and yet here you are, apologizing to me." She hesitated. Inhaling the fragrant night air, the words seemed to tumble from her. "Am I angry with you? Of course. I won't say I'm not. What you said cut deeply. I had thought you had done it because you were genuinely angry with me for not listening." Thorin looked away from her, ashamed of his actions that had caused such pain to the young dam. "But..." his head spun back to her direction. "I know now what you said, you did so out of fear for my safety." When she finally looked at him, she saw that he had a small smile on his face. "That doesn't make it alright."
"No, of course not." He shook his head emphatically. Looking down at their hands for a moment, he then looked up at her from under his brows.
Talia sighed heavily, eyes searching his face. Within her fingers, he could feel the faintest flutter of her heartbeat. She reached forward and covering their joined hands with her other one. "I would forgive you..." hope sparked in his chest. She raised a finger to emphasize what she said next. "Under the condition that you never say anything of the sort again."
With a fist over his heart, Thorin bowed his head, "I swear, Mahal as my witness, such words shall never again pass my lips."
"Good." They sat in silence for a long while, each lost in their own thoughts, until Talia remembered the reason she had followed him in the first place. "What was Lord Elrond talking about?" He froze, the muscles of his hand turning to stone under her fingers. Adrenaline shot through her, turning her blood to ice in her veins. "I'm sorry," she whispered, trying to extract her hand from his. It tightened, stilling her attempts. Her eyes darted between their hands and his face, which was frozen into a mask of something she couldn't quite identify. "Thorin..."
Her voice was so quiet, he almost didn't hear it. But he did, and the sound of fear startled him. Forcing himself to relax, he shook his head. "My apologies. I did not mean to scare you." With a sigh, Thorin finally met her eye. "My grandfather lost himself to dragon sickness."
"Dragon sickness?" she repeated, confused.
He nodded solemnly. "His love of gold grew so great that he thought of nothing else. Not his kingdom, not his allies...and not even his own kin." The last words were said with his face turned away from her. "It turned him cold to anything else. I remember, he would spend days on end in the vaults, simply walking through the piles of treasure. My father had begun the same descent when Smaug attacked."
"So... Lord Elrond is convinced that if you retake Erebor, that you will follow in their footsteps?"
"So, it would seem." His voice was laced with irritation, but she knew it was not directed at her.
"Is there any sort of cure?"
Thorin shook his head. "No."
"Oh..."
After a few silent moments, Thorin turned to face her, taking both of her hands in his. "I would ask something of you, though I know I have no right to do so."
Furrowing her brows, she leaned forward ever so slightly. "What is it?" her words were hushed, as if worried there might be prying ears around.
"I would ask that, in the event that I do..." his throat worked around a knot. "In the event that I follow my forebearers into this madness, that you will do everything in your power to bring me back. And if you cannot...that you put an end to the insanity."
Talia was taken aback, mouth agape like a gasping fish. "W...why me?"
Thorin's eyes were focused on their hands, thumbs running over her knuckles. "I fear that my men will not know what to do. That when the time comes to finish things, they will be unable to do so."
"And what makes you think I will?"
He didn't answer at first, but eventually his eyes found hers and one of his hands lifted to her face. Unintentionally, Talia flinched away, then forced herself to sit still. He saw this, and there was a sadness in his eyes, but continued on his path, resting his rough palm against the soft curve of her cheek. Her heart skipped a beat or two. "Because if that happens, there is no telling what will happen or what I will say. My grandfather became cruel. The others may not be brave enough to speak out against me, as I am their king. You have no such reservations." A soft scoff rushed from her lips, which made him smile a bit. "You underestimate yourself. You have already shown that you are stubborn enough to force your body past the point of exhaustion just to prove someone else wrong. And you have shown great courage in the face of danger, to save the lives of your companions." His face turned serious again. "Will you do this for me?"
Talia swallowed thickly. She had never been good at keeping eye contact for any length of time. Yet, for some reason, she could not look away from the azure orbs that pleaded with her in that moment. His hand was so warm against her face. "If you do succumb to this sickness, I will do everything in my power to fix things. But I swear you will not come to harm until I have exhausted any and every possibility to bring you back from the madness."
A breath whooshed from him, and he hung his head. He seemed to have been holding his breath waiting for her answer, and fanned over her face. The scent of the sweet Elvish wine and something stronger washed over her. "I thank you, Talia." His head lifted, a small smile gracing his lips as his large thumb brushed over her cheekbone, just under her eye. "You truly are a remarkable dam."
Talia snorted, a most unladylike sound that made him chuckle. "Not so remarkable, really. I'm sure any of the women of your people would promise the same. From what I've heard, Dis is particularly strong willed."
Thorin rolled his eyes. "Mahal help us all." Shaking his head, his eyes found hers again. "You are right in thinking so, but even she would not dare go against not only her king, but her elder brother as well. No, our women may be just as hard-headed as we are, but they are still usually subject to the wills of their male family members. On some things, anyway." Talia dropped her eyes, nodding. Thorin's head tilted in confusion. He ducked his head to try to meet her eyes again, but she just turned her head slightly to look at the flowers behind their bench. Sighing deeply, his hand shifted from her cheek to her chin and applied the slightest bit of pressure. When she finally looked at him again, he asked, "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?" her voice was near a whisper, eyes flicking down towards the key that lay against his chest.
"Hide your eyes. You've always done it, unless you were angry with me. It's only then that you seem to forget that you feel the need to look away from someone."
Talia shrugged. "When you've lived the kind of life I have, you tend to not want to look people in the eye. Whether to not see the look of cruelty, or the one of disgust."
Thorin's shoulders fell a bit. "But it also keeps you from being able to see when someone speaks true. The eyes tell you everything about a person. Their emotions, their personality. If you know how to read them."
"The only thing I know how to read is when someone is angry, or..." she didn't finish her statement, but he knew what she was going to say.
With a sigh, he pulled up her chin again. This time, when she looked at him, her eyes darted away for only a moment before settling back on his. He could see how hard she was trying. His hand was still holding hers, stroking the knuckles. "Someone with such beautiful eyes should not hide them away from the world."
The words took her aback, and she gaped at him like a fish out of water. He could see how her breaths were coming faster now, pushing the swell of her chest out a bit more. Granted, he didn't have to look down to see it, it was just in his periphery, but he saw it nonetheless. They sat there, staring at one another, waiting for the other to say something. After a few moments, she finally closed her mouth. The movement brought Thorin's attention to them before his eyes rose back to hers. She saw something working behind them. Finally, she asked him, "What are you thinking?" She could see his Adam's apple bob a bit through the open collar of his shirt. When had he undone the laces? When she'd last see him at dinner it was still tied. Maybe he had gotten too hot from the boisterous mayhem of his men. Maybe when he had run off after hearing Gandalf and Lord Elrond talking, he felt he couldn't breathe.
Her thoughts were cut off by his hand moving from her chin, knuckles dragging across her skin. His fingers briefly touched the braid behind her left ear before coming to cup the curve of her jaw. "If...if you would permit me..." his voice sounded rough, dry almost, and he cleared his throat. "I would like to try something."
In a small, nervous voice, she asked, "What is it?"
As slowly as possible, so as to not startle her, as well as to give her time to move away, Thorin leaned forward. They had already been sitting rather close, having had to do so on the small bench, so he didn't have to move very much to be mere inches from her. A small tremor ran through her, which he could feel from where his hands lay against her skin. "It's alright," he assured her in a whisper, thumb brushing gently against the skin of her cheek. He almost felt as if he were dealing with a young filly, one that would bolt at the slightest chance if he wasn't careful. Then, he turned her head to the side slightly, and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Talia froze, shocked by the feeling. His beard tickled the side of her face, though not in an altogether unpleasant way. When he removed his lips from her skin, he set his temple against hers, just taking in her scent. The herbal scent from her bath earlier that day, as well as the subtle hint of something that was simply just...her. Then he realized she wasn't breathing. "Talia?"
That seemed to snap her out of her daze, causing her to gasp quietly. "I'm sorry. I-I-"
"Shh," he murmured, moving back and looking away. "Do not apologize." They stayed like that for a few breaths, then he turned back to her. "It's getting late. You should go to bed." She nodded mutely. "Would you like me to walk with you?" he knew that she was still getting used to the home of the Elves, having only been awake for a day while the rest of them had had over a week to find their way around. The room that she had been given was actually right next to where the rest of the Dwarves were sleeping, but separate from them, considering she was a female. For some reason, even though she had been sleeping in the same area as them for the last month or so, the Elves thought that her propriety was of more importance than her company being able to keep an eye on her.
Talia nodded again, this time adding, "I'm sure the others are wondering where we are by now. I left Bilbo in a bit of a hurry. He's probably told the others I went to look for you."
"We'd best be on our way, then." He stood and, having still been holding her hand, helped her up. Tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, Thorin led her away from the garden, back down the halls towards the area where they were all staying. They were silent the whole way, each lost in their own thoughts. It was a short walk, though it did take a bit longer than normal because of her injuries, as most of the areas of Rivendell were in close proximity to each other. Once they arrived at her door, they stopped, Thorin turning to face her while removing her hand from his arm. "You need to rest, get your strength back up. I will speak with Lord Elrond tomorrow about replenishing out supplies. With any luck, we will leave this place within the week." Talia nodded, eyes downcast toward her hands. "Also, it seems I must beg your forgiveness once more."
Her head shot up. "What for?"
Thorin's head tilted a bit as he gave her a small sheepish smile. "For scaring you. I should not have done such a thing, and I am sorry." He placed a closed fist over his heart, bowing his head.
"Oh," Talia blinked owlishly at him. "N-no, it's quite alright." Her words came out hurried and jumbled together, which only succeeded in making his smile widen a bit. One of her hands raised to fiddle with the bead on her right braid, something he had noticed she'd started doing when she was nervous or uncomfortable, or when she was thinking deeply about something. "I-I should..." she gestured towards her door.
Thorin breathed deeply. "Yes, you should." He agreed. "I will bid you goodnight, Talia." With a quick incline of his head, he turned to leave.
She looked after him, then, after a quick moment of uncertainty, she called out. "Wait." Considering she had not said it very loud as to not alert the others, Thorin barely heard her. He faltered a step, trying to decide if he had actually heard her ask him to wait or if it was the sound of her door closing. In that moment, Talia had made her way over to him, only a few steps away. He had only just registered that she was there and started to turn his head when he felt her hand on his arm to steady herself, then her lips against his cheek. It was his turn to freeze. "Goodnight," she whispered, then was gone in the next breath, quickly closing her door behind her.
Though only a peck, it was enough to send a wash of heat through the spot. A smile crept its way across his face, broadening to a grin when he finally fully understood what had happened. He looked towards her door, beaming, then turned on his heel and moved away as quietly as possible. Stopping before the entrance to their sleeping quarters, he hesitated. The others would most likely not be very happy to hear that he and Talia had been in each other's company, even less so if they truly knew what had transpired that evening. So, he schooled his features into a neutral mask, internalizing his pride of having made her comfortable enough with him to not only allow him to make such an advance, but to reciprocate the gesture. Then, he stepped into the doorway, entering the room where the other Dwarves were gathered around a fire they had built from some of the Elvish furniture.
"Ah, there ya are, laddie." Balin greeted him from across the room, making the others all turn towards him. "We were beginning to wonder if you'd been spirited away somewhere."
He chuckled lightly and moved closer to the fire. He noticed Bilbo pacing back and forth on the balcony, stopping only when Balin's voice alerted him to the fact that Thorin had returned. "It would take more than a few of these sprites to take me away."
"Where's Lia?" Bilbo interjected. He had a look of concern about him as he wrung his hands together. The others did not seem surprised by the question, instead simply turning to him for the answer.
"Worry not, Master Baggins. Our Charmer has been safely returned to her rooms." He assured the Hobbit.
"Oh, aye," Dwalin cocked his head. "And just how do ye know that?"
"Because I am the one who returned her." There was a hushed murmuring amongst them, and he saw Bofur eyeing him in distaste. Knowing that this sort of thing would only continue, he puffed out his chest and announced to them, "I have apologized to Miss Talia, and she has forgiven me though I do not deserve it. She has asked that we speak no more on the subject."
"Is that so?" Bofur asked. "Well, maybe I should go and check on my little sister." He said as he stood from his position by the fire. Thorin inclined his head, moving out of the way for the dwarrow to pass. Bofur gave him a sour look as he did so.
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Talia leaned against the wood of her door, hand pressed to her chest in an attempt to calm her racing heart. It was just a peck on the cheek. So, why was it causing her to feel like she was running from Wargs again? Her body felt flooded with adrenaline, fingers and toes tingling like she'd just almost fallen off a cliff. When she really thought about it, Talia could almost argue that it was the Elvish wine that had caused her to become so bold. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Puffing out her cheeks, she blew a harsh breath, then moved away from the door and towards the armoire that sat against the wall. To the far right were nightdresses. They were thin, gauzy things. But, like the dress she was currently wearing, it was of the finest material she'd ever held in her hands. She had just pulled her dress over her head with some difficulty, cursing the entire time from the pain, when she heard a knock at her door. Confused, she called out. "Who is it?"
"Just me," Bofur's voice was muffled through the wood, but she could still distinguish who it was.
"Give me a moment." Talia didn't bother to unbind her breasts, just yanking the nightgown over her body, fussing at it as she did so. Once she was presentable, she padded, barefoot, over to the door. She cracked it open. "Sorry, I was getting ready for bed."
"No, no, it's alright. Just wanted to make sure you were ok. May I come in?" She blinked at him for a moment, then opened the door some, stepping to the side. As he entered, he looked around, saying, "Thorin said he walked you back." He leveled her with a look, one that made her duck her head sheepishly. "Said he apologized."
She nodded. "He did."
"And that you forgave him, asked not to talk about the whole debacle?" Even though he wore his hat low on his forehead, she could still see the singular raised eyebrow that he was giving her.
Shuffling, she told him, "Yes. I told him that as long as he never said anything of the sort again, that he was forgiven. I just want to put it behind us. We all have too much else going on to worry about a few harsh words."
"Talia," he sighed, shaking his head. "Those were more than just a bit harsh. They were downright cruel. What he said-"
"He did so out of fear." She interrupted. "You weren't there, Bofur. You did not see his face when he asked...begged, for my forgiveness." Honestly, she thought that if he thought it would make her happy, he would have been on his knees. Though, being a king, probably not. He wasn't the sort to degrade himself for the sake of others. "He truly regrets what he said. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to stop talking about it." With that, she turned and went to gather up her dress to hang up in the armoire.
Bofur was quiet for a moment, thinking over what she had said. "I'm sorry, little sister." She stopped her motions, turning back to glance at him curiously, though warily. "When I saw how upset you were after he said that, I saw red." He hung his head. "I-I wanted to hit him."
This surprised her. Bofur had never been anything less than jovial, even when he was describing Smaug to them in Bag End. Covering the short distance between them, she placed a hand on his arm. His head lifted only marginally, enough to look at her from under bushy eyebrows. A small, apologetic smile shown under his moustache. "I have a feeling most of us did. But," she sighed heavily, "It's done, over with. It can't be taken back. I'd like to just forget about it as much as possible. Please."
He nodded, patted the hand on his arm, then turned to leave. It wasn't until his hand was on the handle that something occurred to him. "What took the two of you so long?"
Talia froze, hand hovering momentarily with the dress on the hanger. She subtly shook herself, placing the dress on the bar and smoothing it out, trying to give the impression that she wasn't internally panicking. What had Thorin told them? "We were discussing the quest." She was attempting to sound calm, despite the knot forming in her throat. "Trying to decide the best way to go from Rivendell. I don't know much about the area besides what I've seen from Bilbo's maps."
"Aye..." he didn't sound convinced. "And what did the two of you decide?"
When she turned around, he was watching her closely, arms crossed. "He thinks the best way would be through the mountains." The lie rolled off her tongue like water off a duck's back. She was thinking back to when she had heard them talking about the best path to take, putting in what little she knew from said maps to fill in the blanks. "Personally, I think it would be best to go through Rohan. There are too many dangers in the mountains. Creatures notwithstanding, there's also the unpredictable weather. Especially around this time of year, the storms up on the peaks are far too harsh for us to easily pass."
This seemed to placate her newly adopted brother, because he nodded thoughtfully. "You make a good point. But in the end, we have to do what Thorin thinks is best."
"Which is exactly why I was trying so hard to convince him otherwise." Forcing a yawn, she stretched. "Ooooooh!" she said exaggeratingly. "It's getting late. Lord Elrond wants me to meet him at some point tomorrow to discuss something of great importance."
"And just what might that be?" He was on guard again.
"I have absolutely no idea. Maybe he and Gandalf have found a way to actually help me control the powers I supposedly have."
"No 'supposedly' about it, little sister. You saw what happened in the Trollshaw. The only way those yous could have appeared is because of you. Gandalf wasn't near enough to do anything at that point. How did you do that, by the way?"
"I don't know..." her face scrunched as she tried to think. "Everything was happening so fast, I just remember thinking how I wished there were more of me. Then I suddenly got hot, and the next thing I knew, there was four of me. I didn't exactly stop to figure it out. I just knew I had to get you all of you. I don't even know what happened to them after I turned around." She shrugged. "I don't know. All I do know is that I am tired and would like to rest without the lot of you keeping me up with your snoring."
"Hey, now!" he protested.
Talia laughed lightly, turning him and pushing him towards the door. "Go on. You all need sleep as well."
"Alright, alright, no need to push. I'm leaving." He opened the door, then Bofur turned back to her and studied her for a moment. Then, pulling her into a tight hug, he sighed. "Don't scare me like that again."
Talia shook her head. "No promises. Now, go." Extracting herself, she sent him on his way, making sure that he was around the corner before she shut her door and gasped. "Damn it all." She didn't like lying when it was necessary. Doing so to Bofur felt like a huge betrayal. But she knew he would not approve of her being alone with Thorin for any length of time if he thought there was something going on between them.
Was there something going on between them? No. Surely not. He was apologizing, begging for forgiveness. He probably just got caught up in the moment and was relieved when she gave it. Even so, the memory of his lips against her skin made her face burn. It was probably the most chaste sort of 'affection' a male had ever given her besides her new family. Even Bilbo made a point of not touching her. No, she knew it was definitely the softest thing she'd felt from a male since she was a child. She shook herself once more, forcing the feelings out of her head, and made her way to her bed. She was starting to get sore from the full day of movement, so she lay down. She was quickly swept away into the blissful state of darkness.
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A/N: AAAAAAAAAH!
Sorry, this chapter has been a royal pain in my ass.
Anywho, there ya go, a little bit of fluff. More to come. If you can't tell, it's kind of a slow burn, but we'll get there eventually.
Read and Review, my lovelies, for it makes me ever so happy to hear from you.
AcaciaDawn