A.N.

dr jonesey Thank you! I hope you will like the next chapters too :)

Nasume02 Ah, I read so many stories with Google translator or DeepL. I'm glad you enjoyed it so far :)


/-

The night had been bad. She woke up unsettled, with images from her last dream still playing before her eyes: Kíli ahead with his bow, Fíli rushing after him, both of them dead. Two more bodies added to the pile of orcs and wargs remains.

Next to her sleeping bag, she found a small pile of clothes: breeches, shirt and tunic.

She went to the bathing hall, which was a pond encircled by a low wall on one side and trees on the other. Can something be called a hall if it doesn't have a roof? And was she supposed to get naked just like that?

After a few minutes of pondering and trying to wake herself up and come to some conclusion, she decided that it didn't matter. She needed to clean herself. The saving grace of the pond was its warm water. Not hot, but still warm enough to not be completely unpleasant. She would have liked it hotter, but she supposed hot water would only be available if she took one of the offered chambers and that was something she had no intention of doing.

She washed, dressed, and then washed her clothes too. It was mindless work and she cast her thoughts back to the day before: the ride with Thorin, the chase, Kíli and Fíli, and finally the reluctant welcome they found with the elves. It was beyond fucked up.

She sighed. There were so many things she didn't understand.

The second night was the same, only a little bit worse, for Thorin too died among the many orcs and wargs; same the third night, and the fourth. By the fifth day of their stay with the elves, she was dead on her feet. She had to do something. It was unclear what exactly.

She kept a little away from the company, even from Thorin; easily done since he kept his distance too. She was in a poor mood, tired and sore and worried. Ruven continued to make a nuisance of himself. He would come to visit now and again, baiting them with talk of Iron Hills and weddings.

She had no help among the dwarves. It wasn't unexpected, after all, she brought this on herself. The most she could say was that she was grateful did they didn't lose their temper and said anything stupid. Either dwarves, in general, were the most disciplined people ever to walk the Earth or Thorin ran a tight ship; or both, who knew.

For herself, she felt like she was about to crack. Ruven was at it again and she had not an ounce of patience left. And then, wonder of wonders, someone spoke.

"Oh, aye," she heard Dwalin drawl, "our journey is long and perilous. Do you travel often to Greenwood?"

Close your mouth, Yeye, or you'll catch flies. Was Dwalin helping her?

"To Greenwood? No."

Quelle surprise, Ruven! If only Dwalin would keep talking, distracting the sob.

"A shame is what it is. You are a stone's throw away from your kin, are you not?" The elf looked a little ill at the mention of having kin among Thranduil's people. "I'd sojourn every year if my kin was in easy reach. Family bonds are worth the discomfort of travel."

The rest of the dwarves murmured their agreement and the talk continued along the same lines. They reminisced about times passed, births, deaths, and quite a bit of gossip. She did not need to open her mouth again and fell asleep in the grass, in the shadow of a large tree. She didn't sleep long, not nearly enough, but she felt so much better. She even ate well that evening.

/-

On their first full day, the elf came to their campsite and Dwalin didn't spare him any attention. He let the woman talk to him, not even bothering to listen very closely. It was her story, she knew it best, he reasoned.

On the second day, he felt slightly annoyed that the elf came back. She was sleeping poorly and was not in the mood for games of wit, yet she soldiered on.

On the third day, he noticed a pattern: the elf would speak about the Iron Hills, she would speak about Thranduil; he would ask about dwarf weddings, and she would comment on how she wished to see an elvish one. And on it went between the two of them.

By the fourth day, she was dead on her feet. She never cried again during her sleep, yet he could see she did not get any rest. And still, she said nothing to them, she never asked for help. Very much like a dwarf, this woman of men. He told Thorin that he should talk to her, see what was wrong, but Thorin didn't, as far as he could tell.

And here they were on their fifth day and he didn't think she would make it through another - erm - parley. He tried to pick up the undertaking and… it worked? In a matter of moments Ruven was completely forgotten, his companions more concerned with the latest gossip than the elf's pointed questions.

Was this what she had been trying to achieve? It stood to reason that the answer was yes. He was a right fool to not have seen it before. From him, he turned to Thorin. Why didn't he do something? She was his charge, was she not?

If she did indeed all that Thorin said - saved his life, cared for him, took on a warg when he had been too stupid to look out for himself - why then was he ignoring her?

Something was not right and he intended to find out what.

/-

She came with him without any fuss, almost like she expected his request.

"What would you like to know?"

"The truth, if you please," he brought her to a clearing far enough away from the rest so they could speak in peace. He would not let it rest until he knew it all.

"I - um - let me think."

She was confounding. He never met somebody that would so openly admit to deceit.

"Okay, I thought," she said after a couple of minutes of pacing. "I cannot tell you much now; in fact, I cannot tell you anything at all. I can promise, however, that I will answer your questions - yours and everybody else's - once we are out of Rivendell. The truth, only the truth, and nothing but the truth."

He could wait. Oh, yes, he could; and then he was going to know everything. He would have preferred to come by the knowledge now but could understand her reticence when it came to elves. She never made a secret of her distaste for them. "You swear to it?"

She scoffed. "Oaths mean nothing to me, just so you know. There's nothing I hold sacred. This is my offer: I will answer truthfully, I will not use misdirection. Take it or leave it."

He blinked, hardly believing what he was hearing. There's nothing I hold sacred. How, he wondered, how was he to ever trust her? It was impossible! His mind strayed to Thorin and felt his anger rising. Why did he bring her with him? Why was she here? What was her hold on him?

He fought to bring himself under control. The woman was waiting patiently, looking at him with polite interest. She was holding up rather well, he thought, for how tired she looked.

"And we can ask anything?"

"No. I will not answer questions of a personal nature."

"Personal?" What did she mean by that?

"Parents, friends, siblings, lovers and so on." He opened his mouth to assure her that he was not interested in that. What did he care about those people? "You said anything," she continued without giving him time to cut in. "My life, my business."

"Aye," he did say it. She was right to want assurances that they would not overstep, although for him it was understood that he would never ask her anything that wasn't his business to know. Although now that he thought of it he could see Nori needling her; or even his brother. Balin would not rest until he knew everything there was to know about her.

"There are some things - let me think again." She paced again for a minute or two, then she started to speak slowly as if she was still weighing what to say. "I will not answer any question about my husband; not one."

He shrugged. He didn't care about her husband one way or another. He was dead and of no use to him.

"For all the rest, if I cannot answer truthfully then I will not answer at all. I will say: 'I cannot answer this question'. And it will be the truth, meaning that I cannot answer because I am not allowed to."

She was not speaking sense. He turned her words in his mind, but no. What was he to make of it? "I do not take your meaning."

"Let me think?" She laughed and winked at him and paced around some more. "Look, Thorin knows. He knows everything there is to know about what happens now."

About what happens now? What does it mean? "And you are not hiding anything from him?"

"I am not hiding stuff from him. I do know more than he does about certain events, that's true, but they are not about him, or about you all, or the quest, or the dragon, or whatever else happens now."

"I don't suppose you'd offer any proof to that, would you?"

"I. Cannot. Answer. This. Question."

It felt like being punched in the stomach. He sucked in a breath and then another. Mahal, what did the woman know? What did Thorin?

"I want something in exchange so to speak."

"What?" Very much like a dwarf, indeed.

"The way I see it, it's up to Thorin what gets said and what not. If you have a problem with this you should pester him. What I cannot figure out, because Thorin doesn't even come near me, let alone speak with me, is… How do I say this?" She paced some more. "I don't know if he wants the rest of you to know that he knows."

He felt himself nodding and his respect for the woman in front of him increased a smidgen. He did not consider this when he set out to question her. He did not consider much at all if he was honest. At first, it seemed that Thorin had some interest in her. Then once they were in Rivendell he all but ignored her. It was impossible to understand their relationship, it was also impossible not to be suspicious.

He didn't envy her position. She trusted him to know what to do, but with so little information it was hard to discern what was best. There was something else too: she trusted him, although he did not give her any reason to. Which meant that Thorin told her about him; at least enough for her to know he could be trusted. Why didn't Thorin tell him about her, then? Did this mean she was not to be trusted?

Between Yeva and his cousin, Dwalin felt his head was going to explode. What in Mahal's name was Thorin doing? It made no sense.

She was still waiting for him to say something.

"What do you need?"

"I want you to get everybody to move on when I don't answer a question. Sign them with your hands -"

"You know our language?"

"I know that it exists. You use it quite often and I'm not an idiot. Anyway, sign, if you have to, speak to them in Kahzal -"

"Khuzdul."

"Right, Khuzdul, I'll try to remember. Do what it takes to get them to move on to other subjects. It will be awkward if all I say is that I cannot answer. I can easily imagine getting stuck on some… things - and I don't want this to happen."

"I agree." She was smart. Too smart for him, if he was any judge, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was being played. Most likely he was, he decided. But how? What did he agree to?

She looked so unassuming, so ordinary, that nobody would give her a second look or thought. Threat and defense analyst, she said. He had laughed at her then; he was not laughing now.

"Anything else I should know?"

"Let me think," she answered and started pacing again.

Mahal, no! Why did he even ask? A sense of dread came over him. What else was she going to spring on him?

"I have some problems - health problems - that you should know about because they will affect you all. Unfortunately, Thorin doesn't know about them - I mean he knows some, he probably figured out others, but the subject never came up, you know?"

He nodded. That was not so bad.

"I still don't know how I got here," he heard her whisper to herself. "Anyway: I have a bad knee from an old injury - can't run at all, can walk, but not fast; I have some illness in my joints - sometimes it hurts so bad I cannot move my arms or my hands, fingers, feet - you get the idea."

"Shouldn't you talk to Oin?" Why was she telling him all this?

"Why? You're here, aren't you?"

"I'm no healer, lass."

She let out a loud laugh. "Yeah, you're no healer," she said and laughed again, but then she straightened herself and skewered him with a look. "You came to interrogate me, Dwalin, didn't you?"

He wanted to protest the word, but she was right. He wanted to have answers and he intended to press her until he was satisfied.

"Exactly," she nodded as if she knew what he was thinking. "I don't mind. I'm glad you did. I only wonder what took you so long. But when you take initiative like that, then you assume responsibilities, mon pote."

"Huh?"

"My friend. Pote - friend, pal, buddy, mate. You did this without talking to Thorin, or anybody else for that matter, so now it's yours to manage."

Mahal help him! Mahal help them all, the woman was trouble.

"Close your mouth, will you? I'm not done. Next up panic attacks. I'm deathly afraid of lightning and I might get panic attacks - can't breathe, choking, shaking, whatever. To fix it you should keep me calm, tell me to breathe slowly, and tell me it will pass. It will pass and it's not life-threatening in any way. Just not nice to live through one or watch one unfolding. Any questions?"

"Are you done?"

"No. Last on my list: alcohol. I drink but rarely, never more than a small glass of wine. One glass relaxes me, two will make me laugh a lot, three glasses and I'll answer any question put to me and volunteer additional info if I have it."

"Surely you are jesting?"

"Am not. It's why I'm sleeping on the ground with you all and not in one of the chambers offered by the elves. If the beverage is sweet I can get drunk before I know it." He saw her frowning. "It happened before and some are not above taking advantage. Any questions?"

Yes! Why are you here? Why don't you go back to wherever you came from? Why is he keeping you around? "Does Thorin know?"

"No. It never came up, as I said. Anyway, this is not something that you should keep to yourself. It just suits me to speak with you because you are one person rather than having to explain this to all of you. I don't like being the center of attention."

"That is all?"

"I guess so, we covered everything. It's up to you how you use all of it. If I think there is something else you should know I will come to talk to you right away."

To him? Why not to Thorin? "Why would you come to me?"

"You mean why not go to Thorin?"

He nodded. He didn't care for the glint in her eyes.

"Thorin has a lot on his mind, wouldn't you say?" She didn't wait for him to agree. "You now know all there is to know about me. I'd say your questioning yielded good results, right?" She patted him on the back. "Let me think."

No! He did not want to know more, he had enough troubles to last him a lifetime.

"Tomorrow I want to talk to you again. I need to order my thoughts first and I hope I can sleep and maybe feel a bit better - calmer. I don't wanna yell at you for something that's not your fault."

His fault? He frowned and tried to think about something he did or they did that might have displeased her.

"Not entirely your fault," she amended, "although I hold you responsible; somebody has to be, and you're here."

And with such lovely parting words, she waved to him and went back to her spot under the tree. What did she mean? What did they do? He looked at her retreating back and tried to come up with anything when she stopped and turned and gave him a large smile before continuing on her way.

Ach, but she knew what she was doing! She knew full well he would stew in it until the morrow. Mistress Yeva was not to be trifled with.

/-

"What did you and Yeva talk about?"

Hm. Dwalin peered at his king and friend and wondered about him demanding answers. He did not interrupt us, but he wants to know. And he will not ask her.

Earlier he would have thought that Yeva held something over his head, but now he knew better. She was clever; clever enough that she could say nothing at all and still make one think she answered in full. Yet she did answer him, as much as she thought she could; more would be coming later.

In one way the talk did him good: she was not false, he knew that for certain. He still didn't understand much about her, but he knew that in her own way she was not their enemy, nor would she work against them if she could help it.

So why was Thorin worried?

He remembered he was none too pleased with his cousin at the moment, so he shrugged and grunted in place of an answer.

"She said she wanted to tell everybody about herself; said she felt alone not being able to talk for fear of letting slip more than she ought," Thorin continued out of the blue.

So Thorin knew her secret. She told the truth. And she said she knew more. Her burden must be heavy indeed. He did not remember Yeva and Thorin speaking these past few days and in any case, the woman said they didn't.

"When did she?" Mahal have pity on you if you wronged her, for I shall not!

"When she rode with me; our last day on the road."

That was five days ago! Five days and nights she had been left to her nightmares and her loneliness.

"Did she or did she not save you when you washed out near her home?"

"Aye, that she did." Thorin looked a tad disconcerted that he was the one answering questions but complied readily enough.

"And cared for your injuries? And fed and clothed you?"

"Aye," he answered and Dwalin was pleased to see that his cousin was beginning to think of his actions.

"And took on a warg for you and the trolls for us and Mahal only knows what else?"

"You made your point."

"Does she have anywhere to go? Any family to take her in?"

"Nay."

"Nobody at all?" Dwalin's voice rose in disbelief. Menfolk were rarely ever without a large family, at least in his experience.

"Nobody," he confirmed. "At least nobody she can reach. She has a brother somewhere."

"But she cannot make her way to him?"

"Nay."

Thorin doesn't even come near me, let alone speak with me, she said. And that she did not know how she arrived here, in this place. His hands twitched at his side. "Come," he demanded.

/-

Once he was satisfied his friend understood his duty, he stopped. Dwalin had no wish to truly hurt his king, much as he deserved it. As things stood he was satisfied that the memory of their sparring - and the bruises that were sure to come - will serve as a reminder of what was expected of him.

He stooped over Thorin and pulled him to his feet, not letting go of his shirt. "Your woman did not sleep since we got here," he hissed in his ear, "nor did she eat enough, far as I know."

/-

Let this be a lesson, Yeye: Sargents rule the army.

She had seen them sparring and it looked horrible. Who needs orcs when they have Dwalin? She couldn't stand to watch to the end, she felt every whack that landed on Thorin as sure as if it was herself in there.

That afternoon Thorin sat himself next to her. They didn't talk, but at least he was there. She was too tired and felt drained after her little chat with Dwalin.

"Need tape for your shoulder?"

He huffed a laugh and squeezed her hand and all was well again.

Only later when Thorin had the both of them sleep next to each other, his hand in hers, did she piece together what had likely happened.

Yep, let this be a lesson.

She still dreamt of Kíli and Fíli, and death, and orcs, but she was not alone and it helped.

/-