A.N.
ro781727 Hello! I'm always glad when people leave reviews.
This story differs from both canon works, meaning it is not a recounting of the movie or the original novel.
The major difference will be that at the end of it all Thorin Oakenshield will be alive, but of course there are many, many other events that were changed.
You should not read farther in case this is a deal breaker.
dr jonesey Hi there! I'm glad you are still reading the story and you still like it :)
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Over the next several days Thorin became once again moody and surly and didn't do much other than staring into the distance or staring at the fire. She was sleeping beside him each night as he seemed to sleep better if she was around. He had done the same for her for so many nights, it was only right to return the favor.
She talked with Fili and Kili when they were riding and with Dwalin, Oin, and Bofur when she was doing her sword practice. Sometimes she talked to Bombur about cooking and with Ori about how her people governed themselves. They were all interesting dwarves in their own right and she hoped they'd become friends.
Since she slept oh so well for the past few days and since she didn't particularly care too much about learning to ride - they were going to lose the ponies in a couple of weeks, after all - she asked Thorin for sword fighting training.
He said Aye and put Dwalin in charge - because why not. Dwalin gave her eight stances to practice and he would supervise and correct her. That'd be around half an hour of brandishing one of Dwalin's daggers, which he loaned to her. The bloody thing was heavier than her foil used to be and shorter. The balance was all wrong. The other thing that kind of baffled her was the footwork, namely the absence of any formal requirements for it. It didn't matter, she remembered enough from her fencing days to know what needed to be done, though she'd have to tape her knee front, back, and sides.
Her goal was correctly executing ten of each movement without pause. Doable - in the near future.
Next, it was the same routine, but with the footwork - meaning that she should be able to slash forward while squat lunging, for example. Not so doable.
The next goal would be an hour straight. Impossible as far as she could tell.
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It was not so bad, but many, many things didn't match her previous experiences.
Her first big mistake was trying to hit for points. Competition points were only scored with the tip of the foil. She favored lunging and spearing with the tip, even though it was useless. Dwalin and Bofur had no problem parrying using only branches. They didn't trust her not to hurt herself stupidly should they wield real weapons. She understood she should use the whole blade and try to slash, not only stab, but old habits apparently die hard.
The second problem was keeping her non fighting arm out of the way, as any modern day competition fencer did. You were supposed to position yourself in a way that would offer as little target as possible. Wrong!
Dwalin was out of his wits trying to make her use both of her arms. The shield - two crossed branches covered in cloth, was not just a cover for her left side. The shield was a secondary weapon. He threatened to make her train with a two handed sword if she didn't pay attention.
She wouldn't have thought it, but she had been a much better fencing student than she remembered and it was a bloody shame because now she could not break out of that mindset and use both arms for fighting. As someone wise once said: in a fight you don't rise to the occasion, you fall back to your basic level.
And lastly she didn't duck enough. Getting out of the way of a hit was a time honored tradition of tiring and frustrating your adversary. She had no business meeting strength with strength because she had no strength to speak of. However, fencing was done on a narrow strip where you had to defend - it was in the rules. In consequence her mind refused to consider taking a few steps to the left or to the right.
She should dodge every blow, evade every chance she got, and engage only when it was worth the investment.
A battle was not a competition won at points, she should get that through her thick skull and she would, with practice. Hopefully it would happen before a goblin killed or maimed her.
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After sword practice she was doing her usual knee strengthening routine, which now included more lunges and some jumping. Each day she should also do ten minutes of aerobic something and ten minutes of strength, plus ten minutes for warming up and cooling down. She should, but she didn't. She just couldn't make herself care.
Instead in the afternoon she took herself away from the group and went through the novels or tech papers she had in her phone. The dwarves knew or suspected she was doing some strange voodoo, but again - she didn't care.
It was unlikely both her phone and her solar charger would survive the journey and she wanted to enjoy herself now that she could.
But - there's always a but, an elephant of sorts in every room. They had no Bilbo. Who was going to find the ring? Should she talk to Gandalf? To Thorin?
On the third such afternoon, she spent an hour looking at the rocks without reading anything at all, without even taking out her phone.
Some magnesium and B6 combo would do her a world of good. She was becoming stressed and anxious.
She had tons of reading material on her phone, although nothing useful in her present situation, but she didn't have music. Note to self: download mp4 files next time you have the occasion. An SD card full of music would have been… It didn't matter because there was no way to get it and thinking about it only made her even more depressed.
So here she was - another afternoon of trying to figure out what to do. There wasn't much: learn by heart how to get to the back door either from the main cavern or from Gollum's lake and hope she'd find the blasted ring. If she could do it without alerting Gollum as to who she was or even that she was there at all, then all the better. She didn't need to be hunted down by wraiths or whatever. For fuck's sake she lived in a world where wraiths existed and hunted in packs! She was about to wind herself up into a headache, she could feel it.
She started to hum Stand By Me and even tried to sing. Her singing voice was horrible, she knew that, but there was nobody to hear her, so it didn't matter. And it wouldn't have mattered anyway. They could take themselves somewhere else if they didn't like it; this was her time to care for herself. She missed her home, she was worried for her mother, and most of all she missed her brother.
Adventure sounds like fun, right? It wasn't. She wanted to go back, she wanted everything to be as before. She wanted to complain of boredom and for her most distressing problem to be a stupid date with stupid Pierre. That and the fact that she didn't wear a dress because she didn't feel like shaving her legs and thank the stars for it!
She was this close to starting bawling her eyes out when she heard a rustling. After ignoring her steadily for a week Thorin picked this moment to come to check on her. Will the wonders ever cease?
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Yeva had been gone for a tad longer than usual and Dwalin thought it best to check that she was fine. He was curious about what she was doing each afternoon if he was honest, but mostly he wanted to assure himself that nothing happened to her. To a large extent, she impressed him so far and he felt it was his duty to watch over her to make up for his doubts when they first met.
He should've trusted that Thorin would never find an unworthy woman for himself, but perhaps he could be excused as she was nothing of what he imagined might attract the future king's eye. She was not a handsome woman, what with her short hair pulled tight at the nape and being rather flat of figure. She gave the impression of being a young lass and more than one of their company would have been perfectly content had she remained with the elves or better yet never crossed their way.
Dwalin himself made the mistake of underestimating her, a mistake he won't do again. It took him some time to work out her methods. She never spoke much around the fire. You could almost forget she was there in the same way one would forget Gandalf was there. Almost, but not quite. Unlike the wizard, Yeva looked at them and listened to them. Her eyes were shrewd and calculating and every once in a while he caught her staring down at the ground, digging her nails into her palm.
She was either laughing at them or was annoyed by whatever she was hearing, he could not rightly say, but she was judging them. It rankled at first, but Dwalin knew all too well that the Company judged her too; fair is fair.
Many, if not all of them, have supposed that Thorin's attention would be diverted from the Quest to her. It didn't happen. Aye, Thorin was courting her, but it was such a dull courtship that one could be forgiven if one didn't even notice it. There were no walks alone, no sneaking around, not even love-struck glances. Yeva favored Thorin's company, that was true, but she wasn't trying to attract all his attention to her person. She wasn't doing anything.
He doubted she and Thorin would have been suspected of any courtship at all if it wasn't for one or the other having a bad night from time to time and finding comfort in each other's presence.
His brother Balin had spoken against her and her wiles time and time again. At least some were lending him a willing ear, but for himself, Dwalin saw nothing of her supposed female tricks. And despite what Balin had said that she would come between Thorin and his people, she was working to come to an understanding with them.
She was subtle about it too, he was sure most of them didn't see what she was doing. Oin thought she knew a lot about the healing arts. Bombur's stews were more flavorful thanks to her way of handling spices and he couldn't wait for a secret dough recipe she promised to teach him. The youngsters were forever pestering her about battles and tactics and Kíli was particularly happy to speak with her in view of her decided approval of ranged weapons. She got Bofur and Bifur to speak more as well, she was listening with honest interest and always asking questions about how the mines and the forges were organized. Not stupid questions either; he did not understand her purpose, but she was simply too pointed in her interest to have no purpose. Ori too spent more and more time with her, she had a never ending bag of stories about long dead kings and queens of her people.
Only Balin, Dori, and Nori were steadfast in disliking her. Balin and Dori because of their opinion that Thorin should seek the daughter of some dwarven lord or another to strengthen his rule and extend his influence.
Nori chafed at being required, along with Bofur, to mind Yeva should a scuffle ensue. It was not ideal, Dwalin conceded, but not because of any inconvenience it caused Nori. He simply didn't trust the middle Ri to take his responsibilities seriously.
So here he was, looking for her to assure himself of her safety. She was alone as he knew she would be, twisting some blades of grass between her fingers and singing softly. She had an awful voice. He already knew that because many times she sang to herself, always the same song in her foreign speech.
This time was different though. She sang in the common tongue and it was a love ballad. She was still terribly off key, but the song wasn't half bad. As far as courtships went, he'd say it was quite lovely.
He was about to call to her and make his presence known as there were a few things he wanted to talk to her about, when he saw Thorin approaching, coming back from the stream. He turned and left without making a sound. Balin would be appalled, but Dwalin reckoned it was high time for some sneaking around.
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"Did you find her?" his brother asked as soon as he was back.
"Aye."
"Well?"
"She was singing, I didn't linger."
Balin rolled his eyes and Nori snickered. Fíli pulled a face; the lad had no choice but to listen to her every day as they rode together.
With that they all returned to their respective tasks. Dwalin took out his polishing oil and a cloth and started to care for his mail. It took more than a quarter of an hour for Balin to remember that Thorin went to the stream to wash and never came back.
"What is Thorin doing being gone for so long?"
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"Hey there." She spoke to him and even smiled, but he could see her heart was not in it. "You're here to talk shop?"
"Talk shop?" Sometimes he thought she was using all these foreign sayings on purpose, although he would not speculate on what her purpose was.
"Were you looking for me because you need me for anything?"
"Nay," she did not invite him to sit beside her and he was not sure he would be welcome. "I heard you sing."
"Don't tell me you like my singing," she huffed a laugh.
"Nay." She rolled her eyes. "I thought you would be reading."
"I did a couple of times, but not today. I was thinking…" She was twisting some grass between her fingers not looking at him. "I miss my home - my brother."
He did not have anything to say that would help. It was unlikely she would go back unless whoever brought them here had any interest in sending her home. He could not imagine why that would be the case. Dwalin told him about Kíli's observation that the man with the white hat was probably following him, not Yeva. It made a certain sense; as far as he knew there was nothing special about Yeva or her life, although he cautioned Dwalin that it was only speculation and they did not know anything certain.
He shuffled on his feet and thought about leaving her alone to her thoughts. But maybe she did not want to be left alone? She supposed he looked for her because he needed her to do something. He frowned. Was she thinking he would only speak with her if he needed her advice? His conscience pricked him and he sat next to her, still not sure about what he could do for her, but determined to let her talk about whatever was bothering her, even if it had no connection to their current troubles.
Still, he would have felt better if she told him what she wanted him to say or do.
"Do you know that I shouldn't even have been at my cabin? I was supposed to be in town."
"Why were you then?" He did not care, not really, but who else could she be talking to about her home if not him?
"I had a date the night before. And -"
"What is a date?"
"It is… spending time with someone who could be a potential partner? I think?"
"You are not sure? Were you in a courtship?"
"A courtship is spending time with someone to assess compatibility for a future permanent relationship, right?"
"Aye," odd that she needed to ask for clarification about such a subject.
"Then I believe dating is spending time with someone to assess if it's worth proceeding to a courtship. Although different people have different views, obviously, and not everyone will agree with my take."
"I understand. You were looking to decide if you should allow a man you knew to court you."
"Nope. It's - kind of complicated. Do you have time? Don't you have something to talk about with your potes?"
"I have time," he answered. He was curious.
"After Ben died I didn't look for another partner. It was - uh - hard, let's leave it at that. This date was supposed to be just having dinner at a restaurant - an establishment like the one where we ate before we lost the path, but nicer. That was all. I just wanted to - I don't know. Get myself used to being alone with a man again, I guess, but in a public setting."
He thought about it and it made sense. Losing a spouse could not be easy, even if Ben had not been her One. If she were looking to remarry this was the right way to meet other men.
"And the wanker touched me, put his hands on me like he owned me."
He did not need to ask what wanker meant, it was clear it could not have been anything good. It made him angry to think somebody would force himself on her.
"Anyway, it doesn't matter. One bad date is all it takes to get to know somebody, right? But I didn't want to deal with him - he lives in the same neighborhood as I do, and in the morning I decided to go to the cabin. And believe me, it wasn't easy to get there. It's about an hour's journey by train, but there was an accident of some kind and it took four hours. Then when I got to Munster the storm already started and I'm deathly afraid of lightning. And then I had to walk to the cabin. I wonder all the time why I was so set to go there that day. I wouldn't be here if I did the smart thing and bloody turned back."
"And then you found me," but for a bad date, they would have never met.
"Yep. I was hiding under the sink and banged my head and then I heard somebody - I mean I must've heard you."
"Nay. I did not call out for help."
"You didn't? You're sure?"
"Aye," he was sure. He would have called for help but he was too weak, too battered to do so. He remembered quite well and he knew he did not make any sound, except perhaps to groan in pain.
"Well, it doesn't matter. I thought I heard - No! I did hear someone. I mean I heard you once and then again and I got out of the house and I saw your hand in the folds of the blanket."
"My hand?"
"Yep. I remember very well."
"Impossible. My cloak was caked in mud and so was I. You could not have seen anything and while I did try to free myself from my cloak, I did not manage. My hands were trapped inside."
"That's… kind of strange. Isn't it?" It was, but many strange things happened that day.
"And now you want to go back."
"Um, yes and no. I miss my brother. And I'm afraid of what comes next in this adventure of ours."
"That is a yes," he smiled at her.
"Right. The no - I still meant what I said: I want to help you; to help all of you take back your home. And I guess you and your potes are not so bad after all, even if Balin is kind of creepy. What's his problem anyway? But thinking about my date made me think that I don't believe I could've been so…" she thought for a while. "So unafraid, I would say, if I would've been in my own world and had to travel with thirteen unknown men. That would've been a very stressful situation for me."
He shrugged, but he had no reply to this. Dwarves were brought up to respect women above all else and the large majority of them adhered strictly to the principles of their upbringing. Then there was the fact that everybody thought they were courting. Lastly, she was not a woman that would be considered attractive by dwarves in general.
"If you think that it's down to cultural differences, namely that I'm so far from the ideal dwarven beauty that none of your potes looks at me, or that I'm a widow, or whatever else you imagine, then you'd be wrong. Being unattractive, or married, or a widow, or anything else really never prevented a woman from being harassed, not in my world."
His impression of her world did not match the picture she described and he shuddered. To think that a community so tame, so placid could harbor such dark souls! And she lived there! At least part of the time she lived alone in a blasted hut in the forest. And that new neighbor of hers! What was she thinking?!
"You're scowling. Care to share?"
"Hm?"
"Would you like to share your thoughts? So that I understand why you are scowling, 'cause it looks kind of fierce."
"You were alone in a hut in the middle of a forest," he explained and tried to tamp down his unease. She was not alone anymore.
"Ah, that. Stuff can happen, you know. By and large, I do not live my life in fear, I just learned to be careful."
Being careful meant that she went out of her way, even putting herself in peril, to save a stranger. If that was Yeva being cautious he did not care to know what she would do that would be reckless. "Yet you came to my aid."
"I'd do it again anytime. Plus I kind of like you. Not completely, mind, you can be moody and I'm never quite sure where we stand. I understand that maybe you don't want to talk too much to me because I might run my mouth at the next elf we encounter. And I understand that my… problems or whatever, are nothing compared to the burden you're carrying. I'm not trying to make you -" She got up to pace. Moving helped her think, so he waited.
"I don't even know what I'm trying to say. On the one hand, you don't owe me anything at all. You don't have to be nice to me, so to speak. On the other hand, you're the only one who knows enough about me that I don't have to censor myself when there's just the two of us. So I wish you'd be nice to me. Nicer than your usual disposition, I mean, although it's not like you can really help it."
"I shall try to do better." She waved her hand as if to signify it did not matter or maybe that she did not believe him. He would try. He cared for her and not only because of the Quest. In fact the quest did not even come into play. He had given it a lot of thought and now that he knew how it would all unfold he also knew what had to be done to succeed. Nobody, not even Yeva could cheat death. He did not think she had any trick to assure they would all survive that battle. What they had was their wits and their hearts to carry them through.
"We are friends and I care about you too." He hoped she would see he was sincere. She cocked an eyebrow and shook her head, but she was smiling.
"That's great, Thorin. We make a good team when we try, I have high hopes for us." She extended her hand to him and he caught it, thinking it was that gesture her people did of touching hands. It was not; she tugged him to get up. "Come on, your cousin will mount a search party when he figures you're at the mercy of my wicked arts."
He wondered if she knew how right she was about Balin. She probably did, he decided, she was observant and clever, she had his measure by now.
Not unexpectedly his cousin threw Yeva such a look when they were back that Thorin was hard pressed not to have words with him right then and there, for all the good that would do. He looked at her and was about to apologize for Balin or maybe encourage her not to mind him, but she did not look upset or even surprised.
"Balin needs to get laid," she said matter of factly and he could not help a surprised guffaw.
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