It rained rather heavily the next day, forcing everyone to stay inside. Megan spent the day with Oin and Gloin. She was sad to hear that Bofur and Bombur were not speaking over her, Bilbo, and Thorin. He had tried to knock some sense into his younger brother, but was accused of being insnared, and going against dwarven traditions with his gullibility.
"I have never seen Bofur so angry before," said Gloin. "He let his brother have it and told him that he was disappointed and ashamed of him. It is the same with Balin and Dwalin, Balin simply will not see reason.
Dwalin accused him of putting his politics ahead of the happiness of their best friend.
"It matters not what I do or do not approve of, I care that Thorin has some happiness in his life. That is what he said," said Oin.
"That is sad to hear," said Megan. "We didn't put these marks on us, we did not ask for this, but here we are. I have been asked to speak to Lord Elrond, but I don't know if he will have any answers. I don't think he could say anything without revealing his bias against you all. He would make a terrible journalist, you cannot show your bias when you report on stories."
"Aye, If it was me, I would wait to see if these marks have any side effects, and then find someone to talk to," said Gloin.
"What I want to know is, what is taking him so damn long to read that map?" Megan asked. "He sure is taking his time."
"I wonder that as well," said Oin. "I wonder if he can even read the map, or was Gandalf saying that to make us come here."
"It seems like something he would do," said Megan. "I am ready to get out of here, I need to find my Mom, and I can't find her sitting here in this valley."
"Aye, the elf may be trying to stop our quest from going forward," said Gloin.
"Yeah, he had some pretty despicable words about Thorin's Father and Grandfather. Why, if he said anything like that about a patient who was mentally ill, he would be fired for malpractice and going against his Hippocratic oath of doing no harm. Best healer in Middle Earth my ass, if that is the best we have for healers, than y'all are fucked. Elves may have great knowledge about medicine, but that doesn't make you a good healer, compation for others does."
"That is right," said Oin. "It is important to have compation for others in order to be a good healer. I always wished to help others, and that is why I became a healer. Groin, our Father was a healer, and I apprenticed under him."
"I am certain that you shall find your Mother," said Gloin.
"Aye, let us hope that the elf shall get on with reading the map so you can find her. In the meantime, let us continue training you so you can better defend yourself if we are not around to help you."
The three of them headed to the private training ground where a huge umbrella was set up by a rather thoughtful Avorniel.
"There is nobody else here," said Gloin.
"Aye, they must not wish to risk getting wet, our Megan is braver than the rest of them." Gloin laughed at his brother's words.
"Do not let Dwalin hear you say that, he shall fight anybody whom says that he is not brave."
"That is true," said Oin.
Avorniel glided over to them to watch.
Gloin ran her through a review of what he thought. Once she remembered with flying colors, he and Oin snuck around to see how she would do with people moving around.
She missed a few times, going in the wrong direction. She had to really concentrate to hear their movements and where to attack, but she began to get it down after listening more carefully to their movements.
"May haps she needs an elvish blade," said Avorniel. The dwarves muttered to each other. She knew that they were not pleased at taking advice from elves, but they knew that she was right.
"Very well, let us see what shall work for her," said Oin. Avorniel lead them to the armory where weapons of all sorts were kept.
After a few tries, they found a nice sword that worked with her form.
"It is so light," said Megan.
"Indeed it is," said Avorniel. "Let us see how you do with an actual blade. The trick is to use your speed." Megan nodded.
Oin and Gloin put her through her paces, and she began to improve. They took breaks for lunch, water, and snacks, but trained for most of the day.
"Very well Megan," said Oin. "Let us stop for now, you do not wish to exhaust yourself, do you?"
"No, I don't," said Megan. Avorniel took her weapon.
'I shall put this in your chamber for you in a safe place," she said, leading her to her chamber for a rest. Once she placed her blade in a safe spot, the elf drew her a hot bath.
Avorniel smiled at her human friend as she began to clean the chamber. Once she was sure that Megan didn't need anything, she left to take a walk. She ran into Dwalin who agreed to walk with her to her cottage and have another ale.
She didn't understand why he was spending time with her, he seemed the most vocal dwarf apart from Thorin whom didn't like elves. She shrugged, deciding to enjoy his companionship.
They sat together in the small kitchen with mugs of ale. Her parents were out for another stroll, while her brother was off doing whatever he did. Probably stuck in his chambers, writing music and avoiding his less than perfect sister who spent her time with mortals. Avorniel looked at him. He looked quite handsome with his tatoos and dark eyes. She hoped that she could get him to trust her, she wished to get to know him more.
She had never felt any romantic attraction for anybody before, but she had always longed for a close and intimate life-long companion. She hoped it would be this dwarf.
She had no reason for this, they hardly knew one another, but he fascinated her.
How would he react if I took his hand? She asked herself. Slowly, her hand inched towards his, and then froze, afraid he would either lash out or reject her and deem her quear.
To her utter surprise he placed his hand in hers. She gasped as a blinding light filled the room before leaving.
"Eru has blessed me with my wish," she whispered, tears of gratitude appearing in her eyes. She could sense the energy flowing between them. Dwalin gazed at her in confusion and wonder.
"What do you speak of lass?" he asked. There was no hostility in his tone.
"Eru has blessed me with an answer to my prayers. DO you not sense the connection between us?"
"I am sorry lass, but I do not. I suppose we dwarves to not have the powers of the first born. I did see the bright light however, and I do sense a closeness, but I do not see anything."
"I do not wish to alarm you, but our souls are bound together. The valar have chosen you as my life-long companion." She was quite nervous, afraid that he would pull away.
"Is this the same thing as my king has with Miss Megan?"
"Indeed, it is quite similar. They have visible markings that show their union, as we do not. She is bound to them, and they are bound to her. No, not to each other, only to her.
They are three pieces of a hole. The Valar have made it so per Eru's will."
"It simply seemed so sudden," said Dwalin. "One minute Thorin was normal, and now he is marked. I have been trying to wrap my head around it. He does seem happy however, and that is all I wish for him.
He shall not be happy about the strife this has caused in our group. My own brother shall not speak to me over it." Avorniel could feel his destress.
"I am truly sorry," she said. "I also understand if you do not wish to be with me, I am a mere elf, the one thing you hate and mistrust."
"No," said Dwalin. "I do not wish to leave you, and I do not hate you, even though I should, due to our history, but I do not hate you at all. Does this mean that we are husband and wife?"
"It does," said Avorniel, a giddy thrill running through her at the thought.
"I cannot ignore the pull to be with you lass," said Dwalin. "Will your parents be mad?"
"No, they shall be over joyed. They know how I have longed for this very thing. I believe there are marriage bands that they have. Do you wish to see them?" She thrilled at the burst of happiness from him.
"Let us be wed," said Dwalin. She lead him towards the river where her parents were sitting together.
Her Mother gasped as they approached.
"It finally happened," she said to her husband. "Our girl is finally married." With that, she burst into happy sobs.
Her Father wrapped her in a huge hug, then he gave Dwalin an embrace as well.
"Take care of my daughter, and welcome to our family," he said.
"You care not that I am a dwarf?" Dwalin asked, the tone of mistrust returning.
"No, I care not, as long as my daughter is happy. Yes, you are mortal, and she shall have to face the bitterness of that, but we shall be there to help her when your time comes. In the meantime, we shall enjoy the time that we do have to get to know you as our son." Dwalin hugged him back, a warm smile on his face.
"I do not love her in a romantic way," he said.
"My daughter is the same way, she has never felt romantic attraction towards anybody, but that does not make your marriage less special than my own. There is love there, but a much different kind than romance. Do you wish to do the ceremony now?" Dwalin nodded.
"It is best that we do an elvish wedding, I am not ready for my dwarven companions to know, there is enough discord, and it shall grow worse when I show up with an elf for a wife."
"If they truly care for you, then they shall get over their anger in time," said her father. He left, returning with a pair of wedding bands.
"It is tradition that elves get engaged for a year before they are wed, but there are times that we must break tradition. I know not why, but Eru as chosen you to be wed," he said, handing each the rings.
The ceremony was done in western for Dwalin's benefit, and it was quick, just as Avorniel and Dwalin liked.
"By the blessing of Eru, you are now bound for life. Be blessed and joyful together," said her Mother. Dwalin's lips met hers, and she closed her eyes in happiness as her parents cheered.
The two couples had a merry feast of meat, veggies, and fruit pie. A small and informal meal. Avorniel and Dwalin drank deeply from mugs of ale as per dwarven tradition, while her Mother played songs on her lute.
Dwalin nearly choked on his ale at the sight that greeted him across the river.
Miss Megan was in a boat with Oin and Gloin. Neither looked too pleased at being in such a light craft.
This didn't surprise Dwalin, dwarves were not fond of boats The woman was stirring the boat with expert skill, while the dwarves clutched the sides of the craft for dear life as it sped through the water.
"You all can face down orcs and shit, but your afraid of being in a boat?" Megan asked, her laughter echoing across the water.
Dwalin could tell that she was teasing them. Oin and Gloin were grumbling, though he couldn't catch their words.
"Oh come on," said Megan. "Where's yo sense of adventure my dudes?"
"What is dude?" Avorniel asked. Dwalin shook his head, having no answer to her question. Miss Megan had a strange way of speaking.
"I do not like climbing trees if I can confess," said Avorniel. "I am skilled at doing so out of necessity for when I go on scouting trips, but I am not fond of climbing. Heights give me a quear feeling. I would not like Lorian, where they live in houses off the ground." She laughed at his surprised expression.
"I am certain that you think that all elves love climbing trees and such, but that is not entirely true. A vast majority of us do, but I suppose I am an exception. Trees have feelings and we can sense them, but I still do not like climbing."
"I understand that," said Dwalin.
"She has always hated climbing," her Mother chimed in, "even sense she was a small girl. It is simply not in her nature."
"I deem that is one reason why my brother wishes to avoid me at all costs," said Avorniel, unable to hide the bitter anger from showing in her tone. "I am not elven enough for his sensibilities."
"That is not true," said her Mother. "You are every bit as elven as he is, you simply have a few aversions to things that are in our culture such as climbing trees."
"Lindir keeps his own council on this matter," said her Father. "I know not why he went astray from this family, I suppose the grandeur of being a composer and that recognition blinded him and made pride of the wrong sort grow within him.
There are some Master Dwalin whom say that pride is bad. That is not entirely true. Pride in one's work is a good thing, pride in one's family is also good. There is however the pride that can blind you from the realities of life and the people around you. I am afraid that our son has that bad pride within him. He has let fame consume him, and has chosen to stay at the master house so he can soak up that adoration. I am proud of my son's skills as a musician, but I am not proud at how he treats his family who chooses to live in this humble cottage and off what we can scrape from the land. My wife and I are not comfortable with grand houses and people, and our daughter has followed our example. My wife built this little house when we first moved to Imladriss. We have had to rebuild after a fire and a rain storm that flooded the place, but it is our little home.
Yes, there are hardships in maintaining this cottage, but we would rather have the work, than have all the servants in the world wait on us hand and foot. My daughter works long hours at her job, and she doesn't often seem to be appreciated and thanked for the work that she does. She is a mere servant whom must do her duty to some up there.
Lady Arwin, daughter of Lord Elrond is quite fond of Avorniel, and thinks highly of her, and trusted her to take over whilst she is away."
In spite of himself and his never wavering mistrust of elves, he was beginning to respect this family at least. They were not haughty folk whom seemed to look down on mortals as beneif them. The family reminded him a bit of his own Mother and Father, and anybody whom reminded him of his parents were good folks to him.
He didn't approve of folk who were manipulative and calculative of others. He loved his brother, but Balin had a calculative streak that drove him mad. He wished his brother was more plain spoken and not so sly.
He was a very good diplomat there was no mistaken that, but Balin sometimes acted too much like a politician for Dwalin's liking.
He knew that this grated on Thorin as well, he did not miss the often impatient and annoyed looks when Balin took too long to get to a point when times were rushed.
Thorin could be long-winded as well, but he knew how to get to a point and didn't ramble needlessly, trying to meander to the point that was being discussed.
Dwalin didn't want to know how Balin would react to his new wife, especially sense she was an elf.
After the meal, Dwalin was lead to Avorniel's small sleeping chamber. There lay a simple queen sized bed with soft pillows and blankets.
"Do you wish to get married now? Or do you wish to wait?" Avorniel asked.
"I thought that we were wed," said Dwalin.
"That was merely the ceremony. A true elven marriage takes place when the marriage is consummated." Dwalin nodded in understanding.
"I mean, I do understand if you do not wish to, I am a mere elf, the one thing that dwarves hate, and I will cause further strife with your company."
"I do wish to wed you," said Dwalin. "I shall not tell a falsehood in claiming there won't be strife, but we shall deal with it when the time comes. You are not a lowly elf to me. It shall take quite some time for the rest to warm up to you, especially Thorin. He has had a rough time in his life, and does not trust easily. I do however, wish to be wed in spite of that.
We dwarves only love once. When we have found the one whom is made for us, that is for life. I never thought that my one would be an elf maid." He saw her nod with a soft shy smile on her face.
He was surprised that she didn't think positively of herself. He wondered if her brother had something to do with this.
He could see that she had a tendency to throw herself into her work as a distraction, hoping that the work would distance herself from her pain and sadness.
Elves had all the time in the world, which made their grudges against one another all the more terrible. They had time to let the anger grow and fester inside. There was no clock ticking away their time of life, so there was no excuse to fix the problem.
He shuddered to think how long she had been in this cycle of overwork and self-doubt.
He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. A strong surg of protectiveness went through him. He would make sure that she took better care of herself, and help her with her self-worth as Miss Megan called it.
He kissed her softly.
The newlyweds woke to a sunny morning. They made breakfast together in the modest kitchen. Her soft fluffy cat rubbed against Dwalin's legs. He chuckled and gave him a soft pet across his head, scratching his chin and ears.
They sat down to eggs, bacon and fish with mugs of steaming coffee.
Now that they were married, Dwalin understood what she meant by her question of sensing their union. He could feel her very feelings as if they were his own, the same was true of her thoughts.
He could speak to her through their shared minds if he wished to. Dwalin was happy, but also concerned.
He could sense the cracks in her spirit. It was a wound that no quick healing could fix. She wished to live, but her soul was deeply damaged by harsh dealings with her brother.
Dwalin was afraid that if this kept going, he would lose her. Words and thoughtless deeds were far more harmful than a blade ever could be, they festered in the mind and soul until rot formed.
She was quite vulnerable, which made him reluctant to introduce her to his dwarven companions. They knew nothing of elves and how they sensed the hearts of others, and how easily they were wounded.
Was Lord Elrond wounded? The elf Lord seemed so distant and elufe. Bilbo Baggins deemed him as kind as Summer, but he did not mingle with others very much.
If he was wounded, what caused his hurt? He stopped his train of thought.
What did he care if the elf was harmed? He was supposed to hate him was he not?
He found however, that he did care, at least a little.
His thoughts turned back to his wife. Was her spirit going to be so wounded that she would be as elufe as the elf lord someday? He didn't want that to happen, and vowed that it would not.
He could just make out Miss Megan walking with Bilbo, their hands intwined with Thorin behind them.
He hoped that Thorin was not still being a full and had made up with her.
He had been glad to see her having a good time on the water, laughing with Oin and Gloin. Had he ever heard her laugh before? May haps once, but not too often.
He did not like that.
"You worry for her do you not?" Avorniel asked. Dwalin poured himself another cup of coffee.
"I do, she has been through quite a lot."
"Her spirit is deeply wounded, and so is her mind." Dwalin sipped his coffee.
"Aye, she calls it Post Traumatic stress disorder. She calls it an illness of the mind."
"Is there any treatment for it?" Avorniel asked, taking a bite of eggs.
"I know not," said Dwalin, spreading a thick pad of butter on his bread. "All I know to do is give her support." Avorniel nodded with a sad smile and began to clear the dishes.
They walked from the cottage about an hour later, walking the ten minute walk towards the main house. Thoughts raced through Avorniel's mind, which Dwalin picked up.
He was saddened by what he saw there, fears that she was ruining his life by becoming his wife. Panic entered her eyes as they neared the training grounds where the dwarves were going through drills. Thorin was sparing with Balin, while Megan and Bilbo watched from a nearby table which was piled high with breakfast food. Avorniel dropped his hand.
"What is it?" Dwalin asked, knowing very well what it was, but wishing her to confirm it.
"I don't want you to be ashamed of being with me in front of the others. They shall all hate me, and turn on you by association." Dwalin lead her away from the dwarves so they wouldn't be overheard.
"I am not ashamed of being with you," he said. "Not one bit. You are not ruining my life, I am glad to be your husband.
I know that you are afraid, I am as well, but we cannot let that stop us from moving forward." He took a breath. "I shall not lie. There shall be hard times for us as this shall effect my relationship with my kin." She let out a muffles sob at this.
"Shh," said Dwalin, holding her close for her comfort as well as his own. "All shall be well," he said, trying to comfort both of them.
Dwalin truly was afraid. It would take time for Thorin to accept due to his hatred of elves, but it would take the traditional Balin far longer to get over it. He followed rules quite religiously, but Dwalin knew quite well that the Valar were under the will of Eru, and followed his directions, like they were trying to do.
Dwalin was not as religious as his brother, but he tried to follow the will of Eru every day. If an elf was to be his one, then so be it, he was not arrogant enough to try and go against Eru's plans for him no matter how difficult he found them to be.
Once she was calm, Dwalin lead Avorniel towards the group. She nearly fled at the look on the faces around her.
"No, we must face this," said Dwalin, tugging on her arm. He too wished to flee at the look on Balin's face, something he would have normally never considered. A warrior did not flee from a fight like a coward, and Dwalin was no coward. This situation was different. It tore at his heart to see the utter fury upon it. This was his elder brother, the one whom was supposed to be there for him always.
Did politics matter so much to him that he would turn on his own brother? This was not like Balin. It must be the fact that she is an elf.
Dwalin waited for him to say something, but he did not. He merely turned away, a look of cold contempt on his face.
Dori, Nori, and Ori were all glaring at Avorniel, and looking at Dwalin as they would a traitor, while Fili and Kili pretended he was not there.
Thorin looked at him for a long time.
"I do not understand this Dwalin," he said. "Why an elf?"
"I know not," said Dwalin. "I am still trying to wrap my head around it all, but she is my wife, and I am glad that she is. She is my one Thorin."
"You cannot be in love with her," scoffed Thorin. "You barely know her."
"I am not in love with her, nor is she in love with me, it is a marriage of intimate companionship, nothing more."
"She is an elf," said Thorin, sounding angry for the first time.
"She is not like other elves," said Dwalin. "She does not see herself greater than we mere mortals." Thorin scowled.
"That means nothing. She could betray you at any time." He switched to the dwarven language.
"She could betray our quest. Were you foolish enough to tell her of it?" Dwalin glared at Thorin.
"You know perfectly well that I would not give this quest away to anybody. I have not told her, and she has not asked about it. She can however, read my every thought. That is part of elven marriage, but she has not inquired of the quest, even though I am certain she knows of it. I can read her thoughts as well."
"You are truly going to go through with the marriage?" Thorin asked. Dwalin wasn't really mad at Thorin, he was merely looking after him as he always did.
"Aye, she is a good lass when you get to know her. I have not said a word against your growing relationship with miss Megan, I would appreciate the same courtesy and trust." Bombur scoffed.
"You can't trust human and elven women," he said, butting into the conversation. "They are not like dwarowdams, they are too soft and delicate."
"That is right," said Dori. "Can this wife of yours defend herself? I doubt it from the looks of her, too skinny and willowy.""
"I can fight Master dwarf," said Avorniel, tone flat and hollow. She was resigned for further mental torment. Not from her brother, but from Dwalin's fellow dwarves.
He had the uncomfortable feeling that he would be as hostile as they were if it was one of the others, but he pushed this thought aside, it was not helpful for their situation.
Bifur smiled at Avorniel, giving her shoulder a gentle pat, and offering her a rose. A small smile appeared on her face at the kind gesture.
Bombur scowled at her, while Bofur looked as if he didn't know what to think of it all. Oin and Gloin looked like they would stay neutral for the time being. They gave her polite nods which she returned rather hesitantly.
Thorin didn't look happy at the situation as he nodded at Dwalin, trying to give him a supportive smile.
This would be hard on the King, he had deep hatred of the elves, this needed processing. Dwalin hoped that his hatred would not blind him to the many long years of friendship they shared between them.
Dwalin smiled back, though it was forced.
His gaze turned to Miss Megan, and for the first time, he realized what it was to see as elves did.
Tears blurred his vision as he could clearly see her wounded heart and spirit.
"Has she turned you soft?" asked Nori, giving Dwalin a hostile look. Avorniel glared at him.
"Hush dwarf," she said coldly. "You know not what you speak of on elves or your friend. Elven marriages are special. If the bond is strong enough, each partner inherits the gifts of the other. It appears that Dwalin has done so."
"You mean to tell me that he is turning into a tree shagger?" Nori asked. Ori simply wrote in his journal, ignoring everyone. Avorniel scoffed.
"No, he is not becoming an elf, what foolishness." She gave Dwalin a look of concern as he tried to stay his tears.
"She shall be well," she said to him. "It is hard to get used to, but you shall in time. This gift is to help others see wisdom that they may not see, and is to help them on the path forward.
She needs all the love and support we are able to give. Use this gift to aid her and others such as Thorin." Dwalin nodded, pulling himself together with a glare at Nori.
Like Ori, Dori was ignoring him completely, mending a tear in his shirt. Dwalin glared at them all and stomped away, Avorniel following him.
They walked back to the cottage in silence.
Dwalin was lead inside towards the couch. He sat down and let out a sound of grief. The reactions of his ken was tearing him apart. He knew that it would be difficult, but he hadn't been prepared for how truly hard it was, especially Balin's cold anger towards him.
He hadn't even given him the usual look of concern, nor even a passing glance. He had merely looked right through him as if he were nothing.
All these events were fracturing the company, and he was afraid that there wouldn't be any pieces to put back together if this kept up. The tension in the air had been so thick that a knife could cut it.
Thorin was in the same boat as he, a majority of them were not happy with his, Bilbo's, and Megan's relationship. A woman with two husbands was not traditional in the least.
He hadn't missed the sad look of dawning understanding on his friend's face as he left the group.
They were both in relationships that were outside the dwarven tradition with the two races that were not to be trusted, elves and humans. Dwalin watched as Avorniel left the Livingroom on silent feet, returning a couple minutes later with a cup of tea. No sweetener but with a touch of milk, just how he liked it.
He took a sip. Sweet, with a hent of cinnamon and orange.
Things with the company were going to get worse before they got better, he was sure of that.
Avorniel sat down with a cup of spiced milk. Dwalin took a sip. It was icy cold, but quite tasty.
He had always hated milk, unless it was in tea. If it was made like this, he believed he would grow to like it.
"The head chef gave me this," said Avorniel. "He also helped me with this ice house that is in the kitchen. He stocks it for me every time it is empty."
"That is kind of him," said Dwalin.
"He is. He has been my companion sense my family and I fled from and orc attack in our village about fifty years ago. I am 200-years[-old. Lindir was living in Rivendell at the time, so he was fortunate to not have witnessed the attack. He was never content living in Mithland as we did, and left early in life when he came of age. After the orc attack, we followed our missing family member to Rivendell, and the head chef has been my friend and companion ever sense, looking after me as a second Father."
"Do you miss your former home?" Dwalin asked.
"At times I do," said Avorniel. "This is my home now, and I do not wish to move from here save some life event take place, or my husband wishes to move on." Dwalin nodded. He had a feeling that he should tell her of his quest, but he knew that she knew of the quest due to their new found marriage.
She was obviously hinting at it. He smiled at her.
"We shall see when we get to it," he said, setting his teacup on the coffee table.
All hell broke loose as soon as Dwalin left. Arguments broke out amongst the company, voices growing louder and angrier. Megan was afraid that they would start throwing punches.
"Enough!" Thorin bellowed. "I shall not have discord amongst us, that shall not bid well for our quest. I suggest you sort yourselves out." There was silence after Thorin's words. It was not a happy silence, but a silence of anger.
Thorin sighed. Megan was sure he was running her hand through his hair. She doubted it quite strongly that they would sort themselves out anytime soon. Between her, Bilbo, and Thorin, and now Dwalin and Avorniel's sudden marriage, things would not settle anytime soon.
TO her utter surprise, Thorin took her left hand in his own. She could almost since his destress. She squeezed his hand in return as they walked away from the company. As she predicted, the arguing broke out behind them.
Bilbo took her right hand as they walked.
"They won't sort themselves will they," said Megan.
"No," said Thorin. "I deemed it best that I try. These events are far outside of dwarven tradition, and it shall take time for them to get used to it. This connection between the three of us, and ow Dwalin and that elf, Avorniel. That shall take time for me to get used to, but that shall not stop me from wishing him well in life. He is my oldest friend and shield brother. In the meantime, when shall Lord Elrond read my map? We have been here for three days or so, I know not, it seems hard to tell the days and nights from one another. If he does not get a move on soon, then I deem we should leave and find someone else whom can read the map." Megan nodded in agreement.
This place was nice, but all she wanted to do was find her Mom and home.
"Today is your hair wash day is it not?" Bilbo asked. Megan slapped her forehead. How in the hell could she have forgotten.
"It is," said Megan.
"Come then, we shall prepare a bath for you and the appropriate oil for 4c curls." Megan grinned.
Fifteen minutes later found them in their chambers. Bilbo ran a bath in the huge bathtub. The scent of flowers filled the air. Thorin rummaged through hair oils that Avorniel had found for Megan. He nodded to himself as he found the right one.
While Megan bathed in the rose scented water, Bilbo and Thorin arranged the vanity with hair oil, combs, and other hair accessories.
Megan soon exited the bathing chamber, entering the sitting room, her head wrapped in a towel.
"How would you like your hair today?" Bilbo asked.
"Dread locks," said Megan, sitting down at the vanity.
Making dreads was a labor intensive process. Bilbo and Thorin switched off each hour, helping Megan carefully shape the dreads.
Thorin was amazed the lengths that black people seemed to go to keep their hair pretty and healthy.
Hours later, the job was done.
She had to correct them a few times on how to twist they hair, but they eventually got the hang of it. The result was quite beautiful.
"I need a sleeping cap to keep the dreads in place, and to keep moisture locked in place," said Megan as they walked to dinner.
Once they reached the pavilion where the dwarves were eating, Thorin counted heads. Dwalin and his wife were not there. Thorin fought back his concern. May haps he wished to be with his bride this eve.
He sat down with the other two and filled Megan's plate with her favorites. It was amazing how quickly he picked up on what she did and did not like.
Bilbo and Thorin filled their own plates before giving Megan a jug of milk for her drink. After pouring, she dug in. Thorin and Bilbo followed her example.
The three of them ate in silence as they listened to the chatter of the dwarves around them. Thorin could sense the tension between them, and was saddened how some of them ignored the three of them.
Oin and Gloin waved to them, while Bofur gave a cheerful hello which Megan returned. They quickly finished their plates, none of them able to bear the strain at the table for much longer.
The air seemed to hum with the cold tension, as if the whole table would explode into fighting at any second.
The three of them rose from their seats and walked back to their chamber. Thorin and Bilbo were so focused on their misery, that they didn't notice Bofur's concerned glances at them.
They entered their chambers and sat together on the couch in front of the roaring fire.
There they sat, letting the gloom take hold. Feeling too miserable to speak, they sat, holding hands in silence, letting the crackling fire and their breathing fill the chamber.
After a while, they silently got ready for bed. Sleep eluded them however, so they sat back down on the couch, too miserable to walk around the large house.
"This is fucking bull shit," said Megan. "Bombur didn't say one fucking word to me all through the mother fucking meal.
Worse of all, everyone is all up one another's throats about our fucking relationship. This is between the three of us, it ain't their fucking business. I mean fuck, Balin didn't say one damn word to you Thorin." Thorin watched as she got up and began pacing the room.
He exchanged a sad look with Bilbo. Thorin still didn't understand what Gandalf was thinking wishing for this small creature to be a burglar. He was too weak to survive in the wild, and did not know how to fight.
Yet with the relationship that they shared with Megan, he was beginning to respect him for his gentlemanly ways towards her. One thing was for sure, Bilbo respected women, and anybody who respected women was well in his eyes.
"I just don't understand any of this man," Megan continued, sitting back down between them. "I just want to find my Mom and figure what the fuck I am going to do here. I don't understand why I am even here. I'm in the fucking dark, AND NOBODY HAS ANY FUCKING ANSWERS!" Her voice rose to a shout as she grabbed a candle and threw it at the wall. Thorin and Bilbo watched her quietly. Thorin knew all too well what it was to be so angry that you needed to destroy objects.
He had demolished a room full of knickknacks after his brother-in-law had died. Angry at Dis for seeming not to care for her husband's death, he had lost it and took out his rage on a room.
He had been mistaken however, she was in deep mourning, but was trying to hide it to not stress her overworked brother.
"I talked to Elrond after I took a nap this afternoon, and he had no answers for me. I was hoping that a good calming hair day would calm me down, but it didn't." A vase hit the opposite wall with a loud crash.
"I'm just so damn angry right now and I know I am being selfish. You have shit do deal with of your own Thorin, but I can't help it." The next vase went near the fireplace, smashing into the wall near the chimney.
"I have lost control myself," said Thorin. "You are not selfish. You have lost everything that you hold dear. Family, friends, your journalism, and everything that was home to you. I would be throwing things too if I were in your situation."
"Thorin is right," said Bilbo. 'I was so angry after my Mother died, that I hid it away. I had to become the Master of Bag End which meant moving on with things. We all lose control at times. It is better that you destroy objects than harm others. Items can be remade, damaged relationships and feelings cannot."
"I do not care for that green vase," said Thorin, handing it to her. Her next throw landed near the bathing chamber door.
Once Megan grew tired of throwing the various objects that Thorin and Bilbo weren't fond of, she sat back down as they took her hands in theirs. They sat in silence for quite some time in the wreckage of the chamber.
They scooted closer to her until they were touching.
"I am just so God damn tired," she whispered. Thorin and Bilbo exchanged another look. They saw their own sadness and weariness in the other's face.
"So are we sweetheart," said Bilbo. "I do not like all this conflict." The three of them sat in silence after that.
If one were to look in, they would see the three of them sitting silently with hunched shoulders, silent tears running down their cheeks. They looked frozen, like three statues of misery that some depressed artist decided to paint.
Two figures ran through a dark and dense wood. One a dwarf, another an elf with gold rings on their right fingers.
They weren't able to deal with the stifling cottage which seemed to make their sadness worse, so they fled from it, running through the night.
They ran until they couldn't run anymore, exhaustion making them sit down under an apple tree.
"Let us stay here." Dwalin's tone was flat and lifeless. He couldn't get the image of Balin's cold fury out of his head.
Avorniel nodded in agreement.
She was not ready to face her own brother at the moment, and Dwalin couldn't blame her. Lindir had no idea of the marriage, and they both knew that things would not be well when he did.
They shared an apple between them. It tasted as tart and bitter as their feelings.
"Let us make this our place," said Avorniel.
"That is a good idea," said Dwalin. "It shall be our secret." Dwalin wasn't big on nature, but this place was quite nice. They were in a grove of apple trees with a running stream along side them. On the other side was a field of tall wild flowers as far as the eye could make out.
The two friends held each other, trying to send the other comfort that they did not feel. Eventually, they fell into a restless sleep, their weapons within easy reach of their hands.
Upon waking the next morning, they took turns bathing in the cool stream before settling to a light breakfast of nuts and berries they found.
The breakfast didn't taste as good as it usually did, and they were not enthusiastic about their sparring match afterword's.
They sat down at the bank of the stream, splashing their heals in the water. A kind of numbness was falling over them.
They were not ready to face the rest of the world and were perfectly fine in their isolation. They stayed in their hiding place for the rest of the day, talking together about anything and everything that came to mind.
After a while, Dwalin picked some flowers, and braided them in her hair.
He thought of her as he worked. She was so gentle, shy, and humble. When he was younger, he often thought of whom his one would be, someone who was tough like himself, a strong dwarowdam lass like Dis, tough and stoic.
Avorniel was quite different. She was so gentle and had a caring spirit. She was awkward around others, preferring the company of a small few close friends.
It pained him to see how her brother was slowly wearing her gentle spirit down, and leaving her confidence in the dust.
She was the last person in Middle Earth who deserved such treatment.
"Tomorrow is the day that I give foo to the poorest of the village and cheer up the sick children," said Avorniel. "Would you care to join me?" Dwalin smiled.
"I would be honored to join you," he said.
Dwalin helped Avorniel packed the jars of food that were in her cabinets before she went into her closet to change.
He met her in the sitting room a couple of hours later. He bit back a laugh at what he saw. Avorniel was wearing a frilly pink dress with many holes throughout.
On top of her head rested a hat with a tall point. She held a sword in her left hand, and a bag of gold coin in the other. She limped across the room on a wooden peg leg, and when she smiled at him, she revealed disgusting looking fake teeth.
A stuffed paret rested on her left shoulder.
"Megan told me of a character in her world called Captain Jack Sparrow, so I decided to make his costume and have fun with it." Dwalin grinned.
"You look nothing like an elf," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the wagon.
Once the food was handed out, Captain Jackalin Sparrow limped with Dwalin towards the makeshift healer's ward.
"Hello me hearties, Captain Jackalin Sparrow has landed with treasure." The children laughed as she pulled out little sweets from her pockets and handed them out.
"Ahoy maities, this is me prisoner, the dastardly villainous dwarf Dwalin. He shall walk the plank at sunset unless he gives over me treasures har har har."
"Oh no," one of the girls squealed. "I shall save you Master Dwalin."
"She is a liar," said Dwalin, getting into the role. "She has stolen my treasure, simply search her pockets and you shall find coin." The children giggled and found her coins taking them and handing them out to Dwalin.
Captain Jackalin Sparrow gave more sweets, toys, and hugs to the children, threatening to walk Dwalin off the plank and send him to Davie Jones locker every so often.
The children petted her paret named Paula.
"Ahoy maities, I have drinks for you. Try me own specialized homemade rum." So saying, she poured out spiced milk and handed it to the kids.
"This is not rum," squealed a redhead. "This is milk. I want rum."
"Har, Har, Har lassie, not until ye are seventeen and have become an official pirate of the seven seas, then ye shall join me crew on the Black Pearl forever more." The child hugged her, and kissed her cheek.
"I wanna be a pirate, I wanna be a pirate, I wanna be a pirate."
"Har, Har, Har, ye shall be a pirate on the magical day when you turn seventeen," said Jackalin.
Captain Jackalin Sparrow was a huge success with the children. Dwalin had quite enjoyed the experience. Megan laughed when they told her about it upon their return.
"Johnny Depp would be so proud," she said. "He is the actor who plays Captain Jack Sparrow." Dwalin smiled.
"I believe that Avorniel has some talent as an actress herself." Avorniel blushed.
"I was all right I guess," she said.
"You have a gift, you should use it," Dwalin whispered. Avorniel smiled as they walked to their cottage for dinner.
