A.N. Nasume02 Thank you for the review !
There are a few lines about Balin in Chapter 21, if I don't get any ideas and move scenes around.
Tolkien didn't write extensively about dwarves in The Hobbit and I hated that. My mother gave me the book to read and said it was about the extraordinary adventures of some dwarves who fight a dragon. I read it all and the dwarves were just a footnote, so to speak. Bilbo too wasn't a character I liked. I felt cheated :) I was promised a good story and I got nothing for my efforts!
It would take too long to flesh out all the dwarves and give them realistic personalities. Or maybe it is possible to fully draw a character in just a few words and actions, but it's above my skill level. In any case in my story some of them will get a few lines here and there and a bit character development too. At least that's what I mean to do. We'll see if I can manage.
/-
Leaving Rivendell as soon as possible became a necessity. Thorin didn't care about Elrond reading the map in any case. Yeva thought it was something that should be done, on the off chance that there might be differences between the story and the reality of his world.
Yet how could they continue in Rivendell?
He had no doubt she had seen the man. She was not given to flights of fancy and he could not but think that it was somehow tied to her nightmares. The last two nights had been especially bad.
They only had to last another two nights, it was true, but could they chance it? Was she in any danger here? He would have dearly liked to speak to his cousins, even with Balin, and hear their thoughts on the matter, yet he could not. To ask for advice would mean to explain details he did not want known by the rest. He would have to take this decision and live with the consequences, be they good or bad.
Was this how Yeva felt? he asked himself. She too could do naught but think and whatever came from it she had to put into motion, without the benefit of another's wisdom.
One could argue that they were not alone in their respective endeavors, since they had each other, but that was not quite right. He only heard the story once and saw her film and that was all. He would be hard pressed to speak more than a minute or two about what he remembered. In this, she was alone.
"What will you do?"
Dwalin always wanted to do something, he thought with some annoyance. If there was something to be done on the spot, then he would have done it already.
"Shouldn't we be on our way already? What are we waiting for?"
"Midsummer night is not tonight, but tomorrow. Lord Elrond shall read us the map and we shall know what it says."
/-
One scalding cup of tea later she was feeling much better. She was feeling so good that she wanted to laugh and sing. Bloody dwarves, she thought, but it was all very amusing and she couldn't be angry with them. She needed to do something before she started babbling.
A swim! Oh, but poor Thorin didn't know how to swim. They will rectify this oversight right away. She was an exceptional swimmer! The best! She would have won plenty of competitions if only she would have had enough time for practice.
Instead, she wasted her teenage years with fencing and what did fencing ever do for her? She was still the shortest one anywhere and none of the really tall, really cute guys ever dated her.
She was not stupid by any means. She chose fencing after participating in plenty of other sports. And who would think to blame her? Fencers were tall, slim, and bloody quick on their feet. Everything she was not, unfortunately. Hey, it was worth a shot, right? Or a poke! It was hilarious and she laughed and laughed.
"Yo!"
"Yeva?"
"Lass?!"
"Shorty, come 'ere! We gon-" she swayed a little even though she was sitting down. She was hot, so threw off the blanket. "We go-gonna-"
Nah, she was still hot. She pulled on her blouse to throw it away.
"What happened to her?"
"Mon pote," no, that didn't sound right.
"Yeva, look at me!"
Why the bloody fuck were them shorties screaming their heads off? And the nasty one was sneering at her.
"Eh, mec, va-t'en!" Nope, nothing. "T'sais quoi? Va te faire foutre, eh?"
Ah, finally some water. Although how they thought they could swim in a jar, she didn't know. What was she s'posed to do? Teach 'im jar swimming?
/-
A few minutes he was gone, that was all. Just a few minutes and Oin and Bombur almost did her in.
"Quiet!" Nobody seemed to mind him. "Quiet," he roared and they all stopped. All except Yeva, of course, who was babbling in one of her many tongues and trying again to undress herself. "Out."
"Out? We are - erm - out." Kíli, of course, who else would think to utter such nonsense.
"Aye, we'll leave you be. I'll send Oin back if he can think of something he can do."
"Nay," he had enough of Oin's brews. "Now go."
And with that, he left Dwalin in charge of the company, who were none too pleased to be herded away like misbehaving children.
"Yeva?" She didn't look good, she was white with two red spots on her cheeks, and her eyes were unfocused, her pupils dilated. What in Mahal's name had Oin and Bombur been thinking? "Yeva?" he tried again.
"You fro-fruwn," she slurred her words but tried again "you frow ng."
"How do you feel?"
"Sick."
"Do you think you can drink water?"
"Wanna sw-sh-"
"Are you thirsty?"
"Hm." He placed the cup to her lips on the chance it meant she wanted to drink. She took a sip, but made a face and turned her head and most of the water ended up on her shirt.
"You frown," she said much clearer "or scow-skuloul-"
"Scowl."
"Ouai. Sinon, t'es bien foutu, t-toi," she looked him up and down. "Bien, eh?"
He wondered what she was saying. She was speaking much better using this language than Westron.
"T'inquiète," she patted his hand, "j'sais que t'es gro-grog-. J-je t'aime quand même."
And with that she was silent. She stood looking at the grass, although he doubted she saw anything. He pulled her in his lap like he did when she had one of her nightmares and just like in her sleep she didn't seem to notice that he was there at all. They stayed like that so long that she drifted off. She said she felt sick and she couldn't drink water, so he kept her upright, propped against him even when all the others started coming back.
/-
She woke up because she was hot and she was uncomfortable. Her neck, her back, her head - bloody fuck. Every little thing hurt. She tried to move into a better position but couldn't.
"Shh, don't move," someone commanded her and she froze for a moment. "Yeva?"
"Thorin?" Was it him?
"You know who I am?"
"P-please don't yell," did he need to speak so loud when they were so close?
He didn't say anything else and she was about to doze off when he started to shift her. And she thought before it was bad. Moving made everything ten times worse.
"Lady Yeva," someone else came to yell at her and she kicked the bastard.
"Ta gueule," she hissed but didn't open her eyes. She just knew it'd be a bad idea.
/-
The next time she woke up she was too cold. She was shivering.
"She has to drink," someone was saying. Was that Oin? She wasn't sure.
"Or we can let her sleep. Her body will expel the poison in its own time." Somebody poisoned her? Did Thorin poison her? Why?
/-
The next time it was night and everything around her smelled of Thorin.
"Did you poison me?"
"Nay." She believed him, he sounded sure of himself.
"Who did?"
"Oin and Bombur mixed up some herbs and mushrooms."
"Wanna pee," and drink some water too, but first she had to pee.
"Easy now." It was by far the most mortifying experience of her life. Thorin took her to the latrine, kept her in the right position, and helped her clean herself. She was ready to die. There was nothing even remotely interesting or cool about being a damsel in distress, just one humiliation on top of another.
Then he gave her water and they went back to sleep.
/-
"Thorin?"
"Hm?"
"What happened?"
The sun was not up and he would have liked to sleep more but did not have the heart to tell her to wait. She must have been frightened, even if she did not remember all of it; because she did not remember all of it. He knew he would be unsettled were he in her stead.
"Do you recall seeing your neighbor?"
"My neighbor? What - ah-" she paused, trying to remember. "My neighbor, yes, the white hat guy."
"You went to the bathing halls yesterday morning, you wanted to go, but came back right away frightened."
"And?"
"You were in a bad way, shivering and -" he trailed. He could have just waited with her. He should have never left Oin or Bombur or, even worse, the both of them, give her something. "They made you some tea."
"And I got high? I remember feeling drunk."
"Aye, it was too much, you said you felt sick. I reckon you also felt hot, you tried to take off your clothes a few times."
"But I didn't?"
"You did not," because he did not let her. "You slept all day yesterday and all night."
"Did I say anything stupid?"
"I would not know," he smiled, thinking back of how she spoke to Balin, shooing him off. "You spoke in one of your tongues. I guessed it was the French, if I remember well."
"That's - uh, that's good."
"Tonight will be the midsummer night. I shall go to Elrond to have him read the map," he felt her nod against his chest. "Then we shall be on our way."
"Yep, that'd be best. I'll talk to Oin and Bombur later."
"They meant well." He hoped she would not berate them too much. Not that they did not deserve it, but he already did and they were truly upset about what happened. They never meant her any harm.
"I know they did, but they need some remedial classes."
"Hm?"
"I might need some of their special tea in the future again."
"Nay," it was completely out of the question. Never again.
"I shall, I'm sure of it. However, they have to learn what a safe dose means and how to judge. A philosopher and healer of ours once said that the dose makes the poison. Which means that any medicine you take will be beneficial, do nothing, or kill you, depending on how much of it you take."
"You would trust them again?"
"Of course I trust them," she sounded annoyed and he wondered why. "I'm not absurd. They just need - " she propped herself up to better look at him. "I'm not mad at them. Still, they might kill me by mistake and I'm sorry if it sounds offensive but there's a possibility, and I'd rather live."
He thought a little, but he did not understand what she meant to do. He would have to trust her. And he did; for the most part. "Very well."
"Wow, you sound like you just signed their death sentences. Don't be so excited. Come on, it won't be that bad. I like them, I'll be nice to your potes, you'll see."
/-
The day was spent checking that nothing was missing from their packs and then packing everything as efficiently as possible. Yeva too was going to have a pony, she could not continue to ride with someone else for so many weeks. How she would steer it without having ever learned to ride and with a shoulder still not fully mended, was another matter entirely.
"What are you doing, lass?" Dwalin sighed to himself. What life did she live until now that she could not even pack? "You have saddlebags for your belongings. You shall not need a backpack."
"What if I lose the pony?" He rolled his eyes, he couldn't help himself. How could anybody lose a poney?
"Then the pony will come back or we'll go find it."
"If the pony bolts and doesn't come back or if I have to run on foot on too narrow paths, then I want everything packed just so. I'll pick up my backpack and move and never need to waste time in an emergency."
"It makes a certain sense," Fíli observed, "I'd never pack my knives in saddlebags."
"Of course you wouldn't," Yeva nodded. "I guess I need more things than most of you, that's all. Your cloak can serve as a cover during sleep, doesn't it?"
"Aye."
"I don't have anything alike; not with me. You won't freeze to death without your sleeping bag, but I need mine."
"You didn't come prepared," Kíli was shaking his head.
"I had no intention to come at all. And I'm afraid that -"
"Afraid of what? You shouldn't worry, you're not alone." Dwalin was impressed with Fíli.
"You see, when the magic happened, I didn't know. I didn't feel anything." All the dwarves looking at her were nodding in agreement. It was the way of magic, after all. A powerful enough wizard would allow what he would and nothing else. "And what if it happens again?"
"Again?"
"Yep. What if I go wash in a stream and I end up in… in Rohan?"
There was a certain sense in her preparations, as Fíli said. She didn't ask to be here and didn't seem to know how to go back. Perhaps anyone in her place would be a tad worried about their future, Dwalin conceded.
"You've nothing to worry about," Kíli was very sure of himself.
"But someone brought me here and if they did they could send me anywhere anytime they choose."
"Maybe the wizard only meant to bring our uncle. You happened to be with him and ended up here. Why would any wizard be interested in you?" Kíli explained despite a few very pointed shushes. "Are you an important person?"
"Nope, not at all."
"Our uncle is."
That was something Dwalin never considered and he could see that Yeva didn't either. Not the fact that whoever did the trick had business with Thorin. That much was clear.
But this man in white who popped up here and there - he might not be after Yeva. The odds were she wasn't in any danger. Thorin, however, might be. He looked at her and saw her looking at him; aye, she understood too.
"Yes, your uncle is important," she went back to her packing and Dwalin was glad Kíli didn't say anything else.
/-
At night Elrond read them the runes written on the map, including the hidden ones, and everything was the same as what they knew from the story. Gandalf nodded sagely and Thorin made all the appropriate surprise noises when the moon runes appeared.
It was both good and bad, Yeva thought. Good because they could reasonably suppose the journey will not deviate too much from what was written. Bad because the journey will not deviate too much from what was written.
She'd rather skip, skip, skip to the day after the battle and find that everyone survived.
She tried not to think too hard about it, but she knew that when they'll be high up in the mountains there'll be a thunderstorm too - a thunder battle, as Tolkien described it, complete with stone giants and whatnot. Just perfect, exactly what she needed. She was too old for this shit.
/-
Leaving the elven settlement was a relief. She didn't know why, given what was going to happen in a few weeks, but this was how she felt: like an oppressive weight was lifted off her chest and she could finally breathe fully.
So on the one hand things were looking up.
The problem was riding an animal. Her pony was the tamest, most placid beast that ever walked the earth; the elves said so. It didn't matter. Riding was pain.
Her hiking shoes were not good for riding, but her feet were so small that the elves thought some child-sized footwear was the only thing that would fit. Her feet were short in length but too wide to fit into an elf child's boots. So her old boots will have to do.
Fíli and Kíli were tasked to teach her how to ride on account of them being the best riders, apart from Gandalf.
"Don't hold onto the saddle," Kíli ground out for the hundredth time.
"Or the stirrups," Fíli added when she shifted a bit.
"Use the reins!"
Don't do this, don't do that, do this, do that, she didn't remember even half of what she was supposed to do or not do. She was completely useless.
The company had to stop and make camp at noon. Her hips were killing her, her thighs too, her back, and everything else.
She thought it would be a good idea to have all her important stuff in her backpack; it wasn't. Her pack was not too heavy, but it was enough to ensure she didn't have a good position on the pony. Not that without it she'd be any better, but she wasn't experienced enough to manage both standing on the darn pony and having a backpack.
Maybe there was a reason why riders usually put everything in saddle bags and didn't carry weight on their backs? Maybe she should've thought that thousands of bloody years of horse riding experience shouldn't be set aside by someone who never mounted a bloody horse in her bloody life?
She didn't have the good sense to think about it beforehand and now she suffered for it.
The tea also didn't clear her system completely. She felt somewhat fuzzy. Not in a bad way, but she couldn't seem to gather herself enough to care about what was going on around her.
"At least you didn't fall," Fíli encouraged her when they stopped.
She didn't fall because Thorin decided to advance at snail speed and at noon he figured she had enough for one day and stopped early, that's all. She took about two hours to cool down and then asked Fíli to walk her and her pony around. Something she should've done for the past two weeks, but didn't think to. She was too busy feeling sorry for herself, apparently, and forgot that tiring yourself with physical effort led to a good night's sleep.
Not to worry, Yeye, you'll learn all your life lessons anew.
Fíli was a bit reluctant, maybe because Thorin was watching them like a hawk, but in the end he agreed and it wasn't very bad. Without the pressure of having to get somewhere and keep up with the rest of them, she tried to concentrate on form.
Fíli decided it was enough after her fourth fall.
She had to ask Oin to apply diclofenac and tape here and there because her arms were too shaky and sore to be of any use.
"Did I have a nightmare last night?" was the first thing she asked the next morning. She didn't, she slept without making a sound. Did she need any more proof she was an idiot? Nope, but she was going to be schooled whether she wanted to or not.
She asked Fíli if it was possible to tie her pony behind his and ride slowly, seeing that if they did she would be able to stay longer in the saddle and thus advance more miles. Nope, no can do. She had to learn how to ride properly and if his pony spooked she would be in danger of taking a bad fall. He was right.
At least she didn't have her backpack anymore.
/-
"I would've bet she'd turn around after that first day," Oin remarked one evening. Thorin just shook his head but said nothing.
It was strange, Dwalin thought. Yeva had a peaceful rest each night since they left Rivendell. She didn't weep or whimper in her dreams, she didn't crawl out of her bedroll to seek Thorin's strength and protection. His cousin, however, wasn't sleeping well. He turned and shifted all night long and when he was awake he'd always look at her. Dwalin almost hoped she'd have another nightmare to give Thorin an excuse to hold her and get some sleep himself.
He wasn't sure all this love business was worth the hassle.
"She won't give up that easily," Balin replied after some moments, disdain coloring his words.
"She won't," Thorin agreed, "she won't rest until her work is done."
His brother should tread lightly, Dwalin thought, Thorin was not in any mood to hear scorn towards his woman. He wasn't going to caution Balin though; better just let them have it out.
"Aye, that she won't. The gold calls to her."
"It does not." There was an assurance to Thorin's words that could not help but convince. "She has enough of it herself and does not seek more."
"Aye, she cares nothing about gold," Kíli said before Thorin could continue. "Her people value land holdings and she has several properties, doesn't she? Her mother also has property that she'll inherit when the time comes."
How did Kíli know so much about Yeva's arrangements?
"Whatever she now has is nothing compared to what she'll have when our quest is done!"
"That will be then, maybe. But now? Now she's richer than any of us. Is this not true, cousin?" Thorin looked straight at Balin demanding an answer.
"How can I know?"
"Indeed, how can you? Yet you are set on thinking she will become much richer after our quest is done. How can you know there will be such a difference?" To this Balin had no answer. His calculations - and Dwalin knew that not only Balin thought so - were all derived from thinking Yeva didn't have all that much. Maybe because she was living alone in a forest.
"She lives in a hut, Thorin!"
"She does not!" Kíli defended her. "She stays there now and then when she watches for poachers."
"Poachers?" Nori laughed, "she's no fighter, lad."
"She's spying on them," Fíli put in, "she's said she never fought anybody."
"What else did you talk about?" Dwalin was curious.
"Pikemen," Fíli replied.
"And archers," Kíli added. "Her people favor fighting in formations of like fighters, each with their respective role in a battle. They rely heavily on ranged weapons."
"Her husband had a barn full of weapons and armor," Thorin mused.
"He must've been like our brother then," Dori nodded in understanding, "a warrior and a scribe."
"She's never seen a battle," Balin snorted.
"Be that as it may, you shall treat her with courtesy. Nay, cousin," Thorin shook his head when Balin looked about to speak, "you will mind me. She is my choice if nothing else."
"A woman of men, Thorin? A widow too - and barren? What were you thinking?" Balin hissed.
"I am thinking that my courting is my business and my reasons for having her on this quest are my own."
"She is of no use to us! She -"
"She is of use to me. You came for the gold and the glory. You shall have to decide if you want it enough to put up with Yeva. Choose now and let us be done with it."
His brother at least had the wherewithal to say nothing more. Dwalin knew Balin would not give up his attempts to change Thorin's mind. Why, he wondered, did he take such a strong dislike of the woman?
By and large, she was harmless. She wasn't a fighter and she was slowing them down, that was true, but Thorin himself was getting on in years and even without her they would not advance that much faster.
She was also not as useless as Balin claimed. She had an eye for detecting flaws; one could see she was used to searching for such in anything. Even when she proposed a course of action herself she did so under caution of what could go wrong.
So why was Balin so set against her? Try as he might he could not understand.
/-
Later that night Dwalin's wish was granted. Thorin was sleeping fitfully and Yeva woke up around midnight.
He saw her looking at Thorin, then at Bifur who was on watch. She shrugged and got up to move her bedroll next to his cousin's and took his hand in hers. He winced when he saw her suck in a breath and heard her curse. She didn't move, however, just wiggled around a bit trying to find a better position.
/-
She woke up in the middle of the night, not because of any dream, she just couldn't sleep anymore. The camp was quiet and asleep, only Bifur was standing watch. That was too bad because she knew she couldn't just turn around and doze off. She didn't know Bifur, they never said anything to each other except for the usual greetings and maybe a thank you here and there.
So her phone? Nope. Her phone was in her pack and she didn't know where her pack was. Every evening she made herself wash, brush her clothes of pony hair, brush the pony, and eat. Then she'd fall asleep like a log. She could even skip some of the steps; she could skip all of the steps if she were honest, except brushing the pony, although she didn't know exactly why she had to do so. She must've read something somewhere and just did it.
Riding continued to be pain. The way to take her mind off it was to chat with either Fíli or Kíli or even both if the path was wide enough to allow for three ponies side by side.
At first, she didn't like their questions at all. She distinctly remembered that the youngsters were supposed to be somewhat more level-headed and not blinded by the treasure. That didn't seem to be the case: all they wanted to talk about was how much she had in terms of material possessions. In the end, she explained a little about her life. For one it didn't matter if they knew about it or not and for another she could see how they would be suspicious of her if they thought she latched onto Thorin for a share of the treasure.
It took some work but she managed to turn them to other subjects. Anything fighting related proved to be interesting to them so she wracked her brain digging info on medieval warfare.
There was precious little she knew about it. Ben could talk for hours - or years - on anything medieval, but Ben wasn't here. So everything circled around what she remembered from high school and from once going through the badassoftheweek website. What could go wrong?
In any case, there was nothing else to do but keep her arms and shoulders relaxed; don't use the stirrups for steering; keep her back straight; don't hold onto the saddle; don't slouch; Durin's beard, use the reins!, and so on.
So yeah, swiss pikemen became a good subject; so did longbows and the battle of - whatever. She didn't remember the name, but there had been more than one battle where longbows turned the tide. Or more likely the losing side sucked and blamed the longbows instead of their own poor choices.
Dwarves didn't fight in formation and neither did orcs as far as she could gather. It was both good and bad. Good because if orcs didn't fight in formation, then dwarves, humans, and elves would have a huge advantage were they to adopt such a fighting style, and bad because when you've just acquired a skill you need time to perfect it and a broken formation leads to chaos and unnecessary deaths.
Fíli and Kíli were too young to know much. This was something she'd have to take to Thorin or Dwalin.
/-
She was still pondering what to do with her night when she heard Thorin moan. Later she'd have to think about how she knew it was him, but for now, she drew closer to see what was going on.
He was dreaming, probably having a nightmare. There were beads of sweat on his forehead and he was turning around - trying to, at least, the sleeping bag didn't allow for much movement.
Would Bifur care if she stayed with Thorin? Maybe, maybe not. Thorin was on duty when she had nightmares, so it was fair to suppose dwarves didn't care much about sleeping arrangements. Then again Thorin was king and she was not. It was entirely possible that dwarves cared about it, but Thorin was exempt from following the common law.
His face contorted in anguish was what decided the matter. She dragged her sleeping bag near him and took his hand in hers, the way he did when she asked him to because she was afraid. He seized onto it and squeezed so hard her eyes watered. Fuuuck, he was going to break every last bone in her hand. She called his name a couple of times but he didn't hear so she settled as comfortably as she could.
Incredibly enough she fell asleep again and in the morning she felt rested. That was great because the pony was waiting for her. The poor thing had no intention to run away back to the elves.
There was only the small matter of Balin throwing her nasty looks, but he could go pound sand for all she cared.
